The control room was 20 feet wide and 30 feet long. The master control panel and captain's couch were set on a platform raised about 8 inches above the floor. A wide view screen, currently showing a picture of Earth in a background of stars, dominated the bulkhead behind the control panel. Other than the master control platform, the entire room was bare of any other furnishings or control stations. A closed door in the starboard bulkhead had a telepathic token labeling it the General's Ready Room.
Acting completely unsurprised that a human had just walked into his control room and was standing calmly beside a Chrysallaman, Hisspat Zeck said, "At last the traitor stands before me with his pet human. I began monitoring you the moment you left the saucer. Remove that ridiculous hat and stand before me, Curtilact Kutlurr. I want you to introduce me to your companion."
Taking two steps forward, Whatsit lifted his hands and slid his sombrero off the back his head, letting it dangle by the draw cord around his neck.
"What manner of chicanery is this?" Zeck demanded as his hands clutched at the arm rests on his couch. "You aren't Curtilact Kutlurr!"
Whatsit answered telepathically in his best modern English, "No duh, Sherlock!"
Completely missing the reference, Zeck responded angrily, "My name is Hisspat Zeck, and I am the Fleet General of the Chrysallaman invasion force! You will treat me with the respect I'm due!"
Recalling some of his favorite lines from the movie, 'Die Hard' and ad-libbing a bit, Whatsit replied, "Well, Yippee ki-yay, Mother Chriker! Don't look like you're in command of jack shit from where I'm standing!"
Tom Blunt couldn't help himself, he snickered so loudly and strongly, if he had been drinking anything at the moment, he would have spewed it out his nose all over the deck. His reaction infuriated Hisspat Zeck.
"Enough of these insults!" he snarled. "Guards!"
Without warning, ten heavily armed Chrysallamans quickly moved into the control room, surrounding Whatsit and Blunt. Each lizard had his cutter ray pistol ready to fire.
Whatsit and Blunt both slowly raised their hands, palms outward, indicating surrender, but their faces showed no fear.
General Zeck grinned wickedly. Looking at Blunt, he growled, "I would normally kill you outright, but I have decided it would be better to deliver a human animal to our glorious Emperor so he can see for himself the type of beings who think they can deny their planet to the benevolent Chrysallaman Empire. However, this traitorous Chrysallaman must be put to death. Guards!"
Just as all ten guards leveled their ray pistols at Whatsit, the five standing on the starboard side of the room flickered suddenly and dissolved into human commandos. Jenson, Stoneman, Chang, Fields and Kurstow fired their pistols at the five thoroughly shocked Chrik guards and sliced them in half. Rising from his command couch in open mouthed surprise, Hisspat Zeck fumbled for his cutter ray pistol, but his ceremonial robe tangled in his fingers, and he finally gave up.
Sitting down heavily in his command couch, Zeck looked up to find Whatsit standing before him.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"My name is Whatsit, son of DrrTrr Zennk, the captain of the exploratory scout saucer, UurBereck."
General Zeck was normally never rendered speechless, but what he had just heard did the job. He finally blurted, "But you're dead!"
"Apparently not," Whatsit replied levelly.
Looking from Whatsit to the humans standing in his master control room, Hisspat Zeck mustered what courage and bluster he could. Sitting up straighter in his command couch, he declared, "The Emperor will come to this planet with so many mother ships and scout saucers, the sky will turn black from their numbers. You and your descendants shall be swept away by the power of the mighty Chrysallaman Empire!"
"No he will not!" General Tom Blunt said with a telepathic power so strong Hisspat Zeck's brain seemed to burn as the message flowed into his mind.
Flinching at the power of the thought, General Zeck stared wide-eyed as Blunt walked up to stand next to Whatsit.
"We're taking the battle to Chrysalis," Blunt declared and watched with satisfaction as Zeck's green skin color paled with dread. "Our scientists are close to duplicating your gravity drive, and humans don't take kindly to being attacked and controlled. You Chrysallamans should have left us alone."
"So you will kill all our colonists in orbit around the moon of your largest planet?" Hisspat Zeck said provocatively. "Humans are no better than Chrysallamans except you will murder my people while they sleep in stasis, completely defenseless!"
"No, Hissy," Blunt replied. "Humans are going to slowly bring all your colonists to Earth and welcome them as settlers. We'll do it slowly of course so the planet can absorb the population increase, but we won't murder any of them. From the information Whatsit pulled from the brain of Curtilact Kutlurr, the fusion reactors on the mega liners will keep them powered for at least another 70 years. Plenty of time to save every colonist."
Placing his hand on Whatsit's shoulder, Blunt looked squarely into Hisspat Zeck's black eyes and said, "By the way, I'd like to introduce you to the Official Ambassador of the Human Race to the Chrysallaman Empire. The United Nations of planet HG-281, otherwise known as Earth, bestowed the high honor to Whatsit for his unfailing efforts to defend humans against the murderous fleet you commanded."
While the human named Blunt had been babbling his absurd tale about defeating the Chrysallaman Empire, Hisspat Zeck had surreptitiously gripped his cutter ray pistol hidden beneath his robe. As quick as a striking snake, he whipped the pistol from his belt and began to push its firing button. Grinning with delight at the thought of a silvery beam cutting down the offending humans, he prepared to sweep an arc of death across the room. However, he was not prepared for the speed and power of Tom Blunt's thoughts.
Just as his finger began to depress the firing stud, Hisspat Zeck's entire body seized up like a stone statue. Unable to move a single voluntary muscle, he watched Blunt and Whatsit shake their heads in sadness.
"What a jerk!" Tom Blunt declared as he stared at the unmoving lizard.
"A piece of garbage not worth recycling," Whatsit replied with disgust.
"You don't think the colonists will be like this heathen do you?" Blunt asked.
"A few might be, but the vast majority will be grateful, productive members of our combined societies," Whatsit said with assurance.
Turning to Jenson, Blunt said, "Doug, why don't you and Becky take Hissy and put him on ice in a stasis chamber. We may have some use for him later when we meet the Emperor."
Hisspat Zeck's last thought as he was disarmed and led out of his control room was, "Stupid humans. If they put me on ice in a stasis chamber, I'll freeze to death!"
Placing his right hand on Whatsit's shoulder, Tom looked him directly in his eyes and said, "Rebuilding the destruction caused by Zeck and his fleet will take years, but humans are very resilient. We'll come back stronger than ever."
"My people and I will help! When the colonists learn the Emperor was going to commit the mass murder of innocent people to clear a planet for Chrysallamans, my people will not rest until the damage is healed.
Nodding his head, Tom asked, "Are you ready to return home and confront the Emperor? You'll have the full support of the entire human race to back you up."
Reaching over his shoulders and pulling his sombrero back onto his head, Whatsit straightened to his full height and replied, "Yes. Time to go home and show the Emperor the error of his ways. A Chrik has to know his limitations!"
####
Thank you so much for reading my book. I hope you enjoyed The Origin of F.O.R.C.E. and will look forward to my next book in the Series. Whatsit returns to Chrysalis with his human friends and discovers he must unite the Earth humans and Chrysallamans against a new enemy so psychologically perverse even Hisspat Zeck can't make friends with them.
As an independently published author, I count on you to spread the word about my book. So if you enjoyed The Origin of F.O.R.C.E., please
tell your friends and family. Won't you please take a moment to leave me a review at your favorite retailer?
Thanks!
Sam B. Miller II
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sam B. Miller II holds a Bachelor of Science degree in Finance, and a Master of Business Administration degree in Finance, from the University of Tennessee. He has five children and lives with his wife, Susan, and their many dogs, in Northeast Tennessee. The Origin of F.O.R.C.E. is his first novel.
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The Origin of F.O.R.C.E. Page 35
