Tales of Reign

by M E Wise

  “The vessel was detected Reign. The vessel did not yield a life sign of any regard.”

  “A probe then? Maybe a drone?” I expressed urgently running toward to the rear of my own vessel as if I could somehow avoid detection.

  Hermes adjusts the ships path suddenly into a mass of debris. “That is a possibility Reign. Although I have no signatures of a threat on the vessel. No reading of nuclear weaponry. Nor beam weaponry. There was no cause for alarm. It appeared inert.”

  I again made for the cabin feeling more cautious but relieved of Hermes findings. I could see the size of this vessel dwarfed Hermes and was also fully intact. It was searching in multiple directions. It’s beams bouncing off of objects nearby and some scanning farther away. The ship itself was highly irregular in shape, seemingly pieced together in space as the need arose. One huge side had what seemed like permanent vandalism in dramatically oversized letters that read, TEK OR DIE!

  “Tek or Die”, asked Hermes questioningly. “A moniker perhaps Reign?”

  “It could be Hermes. But I remember some slang about technology-something like that.” I paused.

  The vessel lights began to scour over Hermes like a predator who suddenly spotted a much needed meal. It circled about and moved closer to the field of rock and metal. The heavily reinforced nose pushed into the fodder effortlessly. We were in trouble. Pluto’s belt may not be the cause of all the loss of life after all.

  “What is the course of action Reign?” Hermes asked. “You have little time before I make a command decision to protect our assets.”

  “Protect our ass…?” Before I could finish the sentence Hermes fires a pulse. The flash is so bright I am temporarily blinded. The barge that was barreling our direction was now cold and dark. The once persistent lights streaming from its hungry body were turned off. I felt an immense relief and an equal amount of frustration. “Could you have given me a moment to respond!”

  “Your moment had passed Reign.” Hermes announces boldly. “This is not our earth. This is not the rendezvous we have traveled so far for.”

  “That’s not the point Hermes!” I shouted.

  “The pulse only disabled functionality. Vessel no longer a threat.” Came the callous logic of a machine pretending to be the conscience of a group of emotionless aliens in some strange synchronistic simulation. The illusion was often enough to feel right but on this long trip there were too many times I was acutely aware I was alone and along for a ride I was not in control of.

  “The primary mission Reign. Designate. Return Reign to origin for diplomatic communications regarding transitional amalgamation research.” Hermes auto-voiced in a monotonous manner.

  “Sow the seeds of peace in soiled ground.” I bantered back.

  We quietly exited Pluto’s Belt, unharmed and somewhat disillusioned on my end. Bodies both celestial and unclaimed now scarred in my memory from moments ago filled my thoughts. It would take five days to get into the reaches of more traveled space at our current velocity. We don’t want to alarm anyone with speed or overwhelming superiority in happenstance. My excitement has now turned to dread. What if I am the wrong spokesman? What if they see our vessel as some intruder hiding in their own backyard? So many things fill the void of my sleepless anxiety. This could end before it begins. Were the Mor’h gambling as much? Remember your roots Reign! Remember your roots.

  “Will I die? Can I die?” The tank held me suspended. I dreamed of being born again.

  

  I took a couple of days to brush up on some Sol system history. I had forgotten so many things. Hours were spent focusing on my sharing and adapting it to the Hermes collective. I could feel a larger network in the region but I couldn’t pinpoint how to address it. There were so many distractions in my mind and I had to learn to hide those from myself, mask them to prevent spoiling future encounters with whoever I confer with in Sol. The goal was to get an escort to Luna, establish a diplomatic conference if possible. All of this certainly feels like a possibility from the optimist’s perspective. Lately though, the deeper I transgress into Sol my skeptical side dwells on something I remember of a darker history.

  Mankind relished in the ideal that martyrdom was heroic. The holos held some truly horrible acts of such idealism. Movies celebrated their dying heroes without remorse. Seeing these only from my perspective though could be misinterpreting the value in it. One link lead to another about kamikazes, suicide bombings and ritual warfare. There was no end to the graphic nature that these events played out. I have no memory of the Mor’h experiencing this behavior. They either hadn’t or they neglected to teach it.

  I couldn’t sleep the last night or two. It was starting to affect my mood and I had no real way of correcting the situation. Anxious dreams swirled about in ultra-realism and at times some sharing would slip causing Hermes to engage me in conversation waking me up. I need to be more controlled for this plan to work. The sense of urgency was so incredibly strong. I know this is something entirely beyond the realm of possibility, a quick end. Peace achieved easily is a peace often eroded in my view. History dictates such.

  I floated listlessly in the center of the bay and rotated with the turning ship. The viewports of the airlocks changed with every other turn. There was so much infinite darkness. Light was the rarest treasure of the universe. Where you found light eyes could truly enjoy how special it was. The silence was overwhelming. Hermes was to receptive to sing or talk out loud. I longed for some radical change in companionship. Someone to share my ideals, dreams and observations with. If you can find yourself in isolation, I had found the end of that. I didn’t want to be alone anymore.

  In the far distance I saw minute streaks of light moving together. I scrambled to push off something to catch a longer glimpse of what it was out there so far away. Life? Yes, life! Finally, I could see ever so tiny and unassuming, the motion of working crews on a deep space asteroid. The relief was astounding. I watched them as we gradually passed for hours. What if we changed course just to see what they were up too? How much of a difference would that make? In the grand scheme of things, it probably is best to carry on. Meet with the Orbital Guard in their element on their terms.

  The rush of relief made me exhausted. Thank you. I pressed my hand to the icy glass. Whoever you are out there, you saved me from a sinking depression. I wall-crawled to my bunk and strapped in while Hermes monitored our path. Some sleep is just what I need.

  

  Reign Chapter 7

  Prisoner of Mor’h

  My first steps were taken in a sealed and mirrored room. The panels would change often into scenes of the serene natural surroundings that covered Mor’h. I could watch everything going on outside with a thought. The act of it was greatly unnerving at first. When I realized I had some control over it the scenes could change as quickly as my attention span did.

  Stumble and fall. Stare at the wall.

  I can’t remember much interaction with anyone other than myself. Sometimes I can faintly remember touching and almost tenderness while I dreamed. When I struggled against my surroundings a constant repetitious sound filled my ears. The sound was not of the room; more like inside of my mind. It was a heartbeat not my own. Over and over, repeating this rhythm, a lullaby to tide my anxiety. Was it my mother’s heart? It must have been but I knew her death. How was it I knew it now? Then?

  Their bodies are similar but not like mine. I am different, they are the same. I am alien.

  

  Hermes flight path had taken us past Jupiter before we began to see mobilized lights tracing back and forth in the asteroid belt between the great gas giant and the next planet Mars. Miners and surveyors most likely canvas the area for resources. Humans notoriously consume as much of their environment as possible it would seem. Qz admired the resourcefulness in his way. Often alluding to humans like the Insectae versions of Earthen ant colonies; both cultures carefully eradicate their rivaling swarms with the conscience not to wipe them
out of course. After seeing the effect of Pluto’s Belt, I feel this is not limited to insects; intended or not.

  Human beings had a second space race in the mid to late 2000s according to my studies. Sometime before the moon colony; where I was born was established, governments began giving licensure to large corporations to fund space programs and exploration. During the years between the first and last space race government sponsored space exploration was cost inefficient and merely a matter of state propaganda. The agencies involved catered to the countries who could pay into the program and the humans with the wanderlust were eager to act the part for the chances to visit the heavens. Eventually more profitable ways to politicize patriotism were focused on. However, corporations saw big currency to be made in pioneering space. They could finance themselves and sponsor whomever had the finances to ensure success and profit.

  A celestial land rush took shape over night! A corporate conglomerate claimed the moon, another Mars. Several smaller countries began coveting large areas of the asteroid debris in the solar system and they began to compete with the tactics of war. Governments sat and watched as surveyor groups of ragtag makeup died from greed and hope to further profits. Their crafts were sufficient enough to make it to space but too prone to constant repair to make it back home. These people became indentured into contracted identities so binding that once adrift each outing only covered the cost of the next. Much like ancient coal companies leasing life to its employees by keeping them in debt to the company store, space provided a grander stage to play this tragedy upon. Sometimes the cost being the very air they breath.

  War wreaked havoc between three Martian companies for nearly a decade. A fuel developer and building supplier in Red Planet Industries failed to maintain safe conditions and supply the miners of MCD (Mineral, Chemical and Drill) with housing, transport and protection. Alongside the Japanese space module and service provider Home²; MCD were contracted captives without supplies or transport. The two began guerilla style sabotage attacks on equipment and RPI craft after a rumor that some miners who refused to continue working were subsequently cutoff from their oxygen supply and suffocated. News agencies ran two different stories based on political ideology and corporate funding. MCD and Home² became the Crimson Dust, often linked to corporate funded terrorism to some and symbolic tyrant slayers to others. Somehow they managed supplies from off world; how, still remains secret. The Mineral Wars or the Great Red Conflict led to some sweeping change on the surface.

  The people began to campaign for safer conditions and the human rights of their terrestrial origin to be granted in space. Corporations; even against popular opinion, fought much of this cry for help. There existed no guardian of equality in the free range of space. Governments had secretly given absolute license over these endeavors to corporations for mineral rights and patents on the craft developed to make it happen. The people however would eventually get their wish in the form of the Orbital Guard. A treaty was established between the European Union, the North American Union and China to combine the NAU Navy and Air Force programs into a global inter and extra-planetary protection force. They had been gathering the technology, resources and contracts all along to pave this endeavor.

  The Orbital Guard took control of the lunar facilities established there in 2075. A carefully worded clause in the contracts granted the Moon government oversight because of the direct orbit of the Earth. Subsequently creating a power vacuum allowing them to rein in some of the bad business they distanced themselves from. Anyone in space-faring life know different. The OG took space and made you like it. A consulate was created on the moon as well as a grand military base. Luna had become the official name of the moon state.

  Hermes and I had been heavily briefed and quizzed on all of these details. Much of that recent history had no holohistory to view. I often wondered why that was. The Mor’h were greatly advanced and meticulously kept Earth’s history on record. They could have easily captured holo on all of these events without being noticed. Something had to prevent it or why would they hide a history of footage I already was aware of? World Wars were no random occurrence in human history. Plenty of film was made on the first two alone. Even smaller scale events had constant literature and discussion on the goings on. As we approached those lights, I kept their history replaying in my mind. Both of their histories, Mor’h and Human alike.

  “Contact will come at any moment Reign. The closer we tread into the active freight lines the greater opportunity to encounter the Guard.” Hermes announces.

  “It’s beautiful Hermes.” I say while gleaming into the bustle of activity as we approach. “If that is the right phrasing. It feels right anyways.”

  I make my way down into the observation portal. It is an oversized circular window opposite the air lock. Human design does have a balanced aesthetic when it comes to vehicles of this kind. Symmetry was definitely in full consideration. The curve of the inset glass allows me to fit inside. I laugh as I think of myself being in an aquarium. The specimen from Mor’h!

  In the closing distance are more vessels, manned vessels. I am relieved that the pilots are alive. Although I cannot see them, most of the crafts in operation are piloted by a living person according to our scans. Even the drones are monitored or guided by some human, alive and well, going about their daily life. A shuttle launches by quickly above us. I briefly feel his sharing and the hair on my neck stands on end. It was a simple hunger for lunch. “The pilot was hungry!” I cried out. A deep smile covered my face.

  The lanes are getting busier now. Ships pass at odd angles, displaying both the flexibility and danger of space travel. They range from single occupier pods to completely eclipsing transports and flagships. Man has come such a long way from their humble beginnings. From horses to starships; like the Mor’h they pulled themselves from the ground, denied gravity and touched their sky and beyond. We were approaching what appeared to be an intersection in the lanes. Seems like as good a place as any to wait for the next phase of our plan.

  Our ship passes unnoticed in the myriad of traffic. Hermes drifts into a stalled position a mile outside of most of the hustle. We want their attention. Someone needs to alert the guard. Someone must set in motion what I have traveled across a galaxy to attempt. This Hermes craft is copied of an older model for these times. It would be considered a show of distinction. A classic!

  “And now we wait.” I say calmly to Hermes.

  “One-fifth of my personality offers some words to consider.” The artificial voice deepens with a gravelly over tone. “Deep in our system we stay rooted. A time came to move. Move we did. The Mor’h moved from their entrenched earth and found new roots. Our limbs reached high. The flesh of our crowns fed in new light. Our chlora now flowed with the future in time. So shared Poh’n Tah’l.” It’s strange to hear something like this. The Mor’h written history must go deeper than I imagined.

  “Poh’n Tah’l was the Siddhartha of Mor’h lore correct?” I asked.

  “Lore cannot speak Reign. Poh’n Tah’l lived and shares space amongst the other four-fifths of my collective mind.” Hermes quickly denounces. “In the matter of our boarding Reign. The safety measures will effectively case my core in a manner human cannot breach. This small core will be undetectable and hidden near the central ship. You will share it’s rooting in mind.”

  “I will know without knowing where your core is?” Often the way I feel the sharing works.

  “Of course Reign.” States Hermes. With that said the perimeter alert went off. Alongside our port bow a single piloted ship slowly drifts by. At first I feel a great fear that our investigator is only some hijacker looking to score a vacant vessel. Then I see the insignia on the craft is of familiar order. Just beyond the craft passing in the distance is a magnificent warship and could house one hundred like scout ships, possibly more. The scout ship holds position next to us and we begin receiving COM static on our receiver lines. It is a universal hail in several languages and code. The wall
screen on all control panels throughout the Hermes craft begin to list the repeated lines. “Your transport is unregistered. Prepare for impound and tow to OGFS Stonewall. Provide proper identification or contracts or face detention.” End transmission.

  “Reign they are going to board and take you now. This craft will not cause any more suspicion until you are detained. Hermes is as ordinary as any scan can detect. We will be watching.” Hermes says as the airlock seals compress. The officers making entry have no trouble using the technology so carefully built to be familiar. I stand firm and face the door. I have no idea what I am about to experience. We have discussed this but human behavior is unlike Mor’h. That predictability is subject to too much change too quickly. Sharing is also out of the question. If they are frightened or angered the sharing will be spoiled and effect all in the link only making the situation worse. I am literally unequipped for this.

  The door glides open from the center. Two armored men hidden behind black mirrored visors cast an image of myself back in the reflection. I am not like them and my eyes widen! They are alerted to this difference as well. I can’t read their faces for the visors. They move in quickly. I don’t resist but they don’t intend on surrender either.