by Doug Farren
“Have all ships regroup closer to Almaranus. Move all operational defense stations in closer as well. Perhaps we can draw them in so the planetary guns can take them… ”
“Emergency coms coming in on the hytrans!” the communications station suddenly yelled. Without waiting for Doug’s order he routed it through the speakers. “… all hostilities. Repeating, disengage from the Chroniech and cease all hostilities. All Chroniech ships have been recalled. Allow them to depart. Do not pursue. You may defend yourself if attacked but do not continue hostilities if the Chroniech disengage. More information to follow.”
Scarboro suddenly felt his knees go weak and he collapsed into his chair. He didn’t know why or how, but the war had ended. He suddenly felt very tired. “Give the order,” was all he could muster.
* * * * *
Stricklen stood next to Zatch just outside the inner airlock door of the Alliance shuttle. They were once again docked with the Captain's ship. Both Captains had been quiet during the return trip keeping their thoughts themselves. Now that it was time to part company, both were struggling to find the appropriate words.
Stricklen was the first to break the silence. “I don’t know what will happen in the coming months. I hope we never have to treat each other as enemies again.”
Zatch looked down at Stricklen. He now saw this pink skinned, hairless, Human in an entirely different light. Instead of seeing a rival life-form, he saw a fellow military Captain for whom he had a great deal of respect. “If what you say is true, and the files you have given us show it to be true, then perhaps we will never again meet in battle. It will take time though – a lot of time.”
“What are your plans now Captain?” Stricklen asked out of curiosity. “Your debt to me has been satisfied. Will you return to your ship?”
Zatch thought about it for a moment then said, “I must see my family first. Then I will return to wherever the military sends me.”
“I would one day like to meet your family,” Stricklen said gazing at the floor. “Provided our two cultures can learn how to peacefully coexist.”
“I would like that very much,” Zatch replied. Somehow, Stricklen’s sincere request had given him a warm feeling deep inside. “You greeted me in a very honorable way when we first met. I would like to return the favor. How do you Humans greet each other with respect?”
Stricklen smiled, this time keeping his teeth from showing. “Oddly enough,” he replied extending his hand. “We often greet each other and say goodbye to each other in the same way. Hold your hand out like this.”
Zatch looked at how Stricklen had his hand positioned and did the same. Stricklen reached out and the two Captains shook hands. “Goodbye Captain Zatch,” Stricklen said as he hit the key to open the inner airlock door.
“Goodbye Captain Stricklen,” Zatch replied and stepped into the airlock. As the door started to close Zatch added, “I will see about making your request come true.”
A few minutes later, the two ships separated and Stricklen headed back to the Dragon. He seriously doubted he would ever see the Captain again. He planned to retire as soon as the Dragon could get him back to Earth. He had had enough of war.
The Circle is Complete
Ken Stricklen, dressed only in shorts, was completely relaxed in the hammock. His mind, assisted by a generous amount of rum, was drifting in and out of the twilight zone between wakefulness and sleep. The hammock rocked gently back and forth in response to the waves quietly slapping against the side of the eight meter sailboat. The summer sun bathed his tanned body in its warm rays.
Through half closed eyes he watched a shadow from a passing cloud make its leisurely way across the surface of the lake. High overhead, a pair of hawks circled looking for prey. The wind whispered through the trees generating a constant, soothing white noise. A Cicada’s high pitched mating call carried across the lake.
The perfection of nature’s concert was shattered by the distinct, impossible to ignore, thump of a shoe hitting heel first on the wooden pier. Ken counted fifteen of the intrusive thumps, each one louder than the one before until they stopped and a voice shouted, “Hello? Anybody aboard?”
For a moment Ken thought about ignoring the intruder but when the voice repeated the question it became obvious that the visitor would not be satisfied with silence as an answer. Getting up from the hammock strung between the railing and the main jib on the side of the boat opposite the pier Ken raised his voice and replied, “Can’t you leave an old retired Captain alone? I’ve saved the Alliance for the last time.”
Doug Scarboro stood on the dock dressed in the uniform of a full Admiral. He chuckled and said, “Permission to come aboard sir.”
Ken let loose with a whistle upon seeing the Admiral’s uniform. “Full Admiral. I’m impressed! Permission granted. What brings you back out here Doug?”
Stepping onto the boat, Doug extended his hand and the two old friends shook. “You have been invited to participate in the official signing of a peace treaty between the Alliance and the Chroniech. I have been tasked with making sure you accept – one way or another.”
Following the end of hostilities, the Chroniech had withdrawn from Alliance space. Both sides had taken the time to allow the tensions created by the war to ease. Ken had once again come home to a hero’s welcome. He endured the fame and hero worship for a short time knowing that having someone the people could look up to would help speed the healing process.
However, as soon as he was able, Ken resigned from the military and returned to Earth and his house on the lake. At first he did not know what he would do with the rest of his life. He did not want to simply sit in his house or lay on his boat and grow old. He needed something to do. He needed a purpose in life.
One day, while sitting at the desk in his study, he looked over at the massive book shelves and his eyes rested on the worn covers of his old diaries. He got up and picked one out at random and started reading. The words he had hand written so many years ago brought back memories and emotions he had forgotten. He read until he fell asleep at the desk. Unable to stay awake any longer, he set the diary down and went to bed.
The next morning, after breakfast, he returned to the study and looked at the shelf holding all his diaries. His most private thoughts, his dreams, his life from when he was a little boy up to the present were recorded in those pages. What a wonderful story they would make!
Coming to a decision, Ken had sat down at his computer terminal and looked up the number of a publisher. His name caused the call to be routed to the company’s CEO. Within a few short days the details had been worked out and Ken now had something to occupy his retirement. He would use his diaries to create his own autobiography. After several months of work the manuscript was nearly complete.
Three months after the end of the war, worried about the silence from the Chroniech, the Alliance sent a ship to the very edge of Chroniech space. For a week it sat there transmitting a request to open a dialog between the Alliance and the Chroniech to negotiate a peace treaty between the two cultures. The Chroniech finally responded saying they were not ready but would contact the Alliance when the time was right. The ship departed and returned home.
Three months after that, the Chroniech sent an unarmed ship to the edge of Alliance space. A barren world near the Chroniech border was selected as a place to hold the discussions between the two cultures. At first, both sides showed little willingness to trust each other. But, as time went on and the negotiators began to know each other, progress started to be made. Ken had been surprised to learn that Elizabeth was one of the primary negotiators.
Months later, a peace treaty had been created. Both sides realized that cultural differences would be difficult to overcome. Education as to how to act when in the presence of the other race would be required to prevent misunderstandings. Tolerance of each culture’s own traditions and mannerisms would also be required. Peace was possible, but it would require a great deal of patience and time before the tw
o cultures could be fully integrated.
Ken realized the importance of the signing of the peace treaty between the Alliance and the Chroniech. As one of the two principle individuals involved in the ending of the war he realized the strong message that would be sent if he was not there. In realizing this, it dawned on him that Captain Zatch would also most likely be there as well.
“I accept,” he told Doug. “When do we leave? Where are we going? And, how long will I be gone?”
Doug was actually surprised that Ken had agreed without a single argument. “The Dragon is in orbit,” he replied. “We need to leave no later than two days from now. We are heading for the Chroniech – Alliance border. And, considering the distance, we will be gone at least a month.”
“Let me pack some things,” Ken said. “Pick me up on the beach tomorrow morning – say 1000?”
“The shuttle will be there,” Doug said turning around to leave. “I will see you tomorrow.”
“Hey wait!” Ken exclaimed causing Doug to stop and turn around. “You didn’t drive up here in an ATS again did you?”
Doug pulled his shirt away from himself and smiled. “With this on? Not on your life! My staff car is sitting at the end of your access road.”
The next morning, much as had happened over a year ago, a shuttle descended from space and landed on Ken’s beach. After taking care of the legal issues so his property could be cared for Ken helped carry his bags aboard. Unlike the last time, there were no tears, no longing looks toward a grave. In fact, Ken seemed to be in good spirits.
On the way back into orbit Doug kept glancing over at his friend. Finally, Ken couldn’t stand it any longer and said, “What?”
Doug chuckled then replied, “You look much better than the last time I picked you up in a shuttle. I was just trying to make sure you weren’t putting on an act.”
“I guess I was a bit of an ass during our last trip. I still miss Tash but I’m no longer depressed over her loss. And, I’ve found something to occupy my time.”
“And that is?”
“Do you remember that I keep a written diary?”
“I do. I always thought it was a bit old fashioned.”
“Over the years I filled up quite a number of notebooks. I’m putting them to good use. I have been working on my autobiography. My publisher claims it will be a galactic best seller.”
Doug nodded his head in approval. “I have no doubt about that.”
The two chatted during the trip up the to Komodo Dragon then parted company so Ken could settle into his stateroom. It was the same room he had occupied during his last visit before he had transferred to the Captain's stateroom. As soon as he had the chance, he visited the bridge. Along the way, every sailor he passed greeted him by name.
The Dragon cruised through space at a leisurely speed of 10,500c arriving at their destination just over eight days after departing Earth orbit. Prior to their arrival, Scarboro had invited Ken to the bridge. “Approaching destination,” the helm announced. “Dropping to normal in two minutes.”
Ken looked at the long range display and saw nothing. Turning to Doug he asked, “Why are we stopping out here? Are we going to pick up a Chroniech escort?”
“Not exactly,” Doug replied in a tone indicating he knew something he did not want to tell Ken.
The announcement was made and the Dragon dropped out of stardrive and reappeared in normal space. “Full sensor sweep,” the Captain ordered.
Ken had been pleasantly surprised to find that the same person he had turned over command of the Dragon to when he retired was still sitting in the Captain’s chair. Captain Bill Baker was a seasoned officer with a distinguished career. He could easily have written a best selling autobiography himself.
Born of poor parents in the slums of New York city, Captain Baker had always dreamed of traveling among the stars. Instead of joining the local gangs he stayed in school. He studied hard and did whatever was required to further his education. A week after graduating he had applied to and was accepted into the Alliance officer candidate training academy. He graduated near the top of his class and from that point on his career had continued propel him forward until he now commanded one of the Alliance’s most amazing and distinguished heavy cruisers.
“Scans are clear – no contacts.” the tactical station reported.
“Very well. Coms, hail them. Helm, standby for docking.”
“Hail who? Dock with what?” a very confused Stricklen asked.
As if in reply to his question, the main monitor on the bridge sprang to life. The furred face of a Kyrra stared back at them.
“Greetings Komodo Dragon from the Kyrra worldship. Place your controls to neutral and standby for docking tractor beams.”
Stricklen looked around the bridge and suddenly realized that everyone except himself had known about the Kyrra. Turning to Scarboro, Stricklen found him grinning from ear to ear. “You knew!”
“Along with everyone else on the ship except you. Surprise!”
Stricklen was at a loss for words. Even the Captain was smiling. Finally, Doug explained, “Nobody could decide on an appropriate location for the signing of the peace treaty. The Alliance wanted to have it on one of their worlds and the Chroniech wanted to do it on one of theirs. Neither side would budge. The Kyrra offered to host the signing on the worldship. So here we are, meeting it at the border between the Chroniech and the Alliance.”
The cruiser shuddered slightly as the Kyrra tractor beams grabbed hold and started to pull the ship toward the still invisible worldship. As this happened, the image on the screen said, “Tractor beams engaged. The Chroniech representatives have already arrived. The signing ceremony can begin as soon as your ship has been docked. Worldship out.”
The image on the screen vanished as the Dragon was brought through the gigantic docking hatch which had seemingly appeared out of nowhere and into the Kyrra worldship. Doug turned to Ken and said, “Meet me on the hanger deck in 20 minutes.”
Without waiting for a reply, Scarboro spun around and left the bridge. Ken quickly followed. Twenty minutes later, Ken walked through the hatch onto the hanger deck. It was Scarboro’s turn to be surprised.
Ken had changed out of his civilian clothes and into his Alliance space force dress uniform. Seeing Scarboro’s surprised look, Stricklen said, “I am retired so technically I am still allowed to wear the uniform.”
Scarboro’s look of surprise was replaced with a smile. “Indeed you are.”
A Kyrra transport floated into the hanger bay and the the Alliance representatives climbed aboard. For all but two this was the first time they had seen the inside the worldship. The transport lifted and left the hanger bay. As had happened over 15 years ago, the transport took them through the vast hanger bay, through a short metallic tunnel and into the worldship’s interior.
There were gasps of surprise and a buzz of conversation as the distinguished Alliance representatives, one from every member of the Alliance, gazed at the awesome beauty and technological achievement of the worldship. To Ken and Doug, it brought back many memories. As far as the occupants could tell, they had been magically transported to the surface of a lush and wonderfully beautiful world.
Their destination was a large clearing in the middle of a wooded area. As they descended, Ken could see a large circular table sitting several meters from another group of tables. These held a variety of foods and refreshments. There were a large number of people milling around including at least 30 Chroniech. It was an amazing sight seeing Chroniech and Kyrra freely and peacefully talking together.
Ken stepped off the transport, took a few steps and stopped as a familiar figure appeared out of the crowd. “Trel’mara!” he shouted barely able to contain his joy.
As soon as the pair were within arm’s length, Ken placed a hand on the shoulder of his alien friend. “It is good to see you again Ken Stricklen,” Trel’mara said. “You are looking well.”
“And you as well,” Ken replied. “
Are the others here?”
“We are all here and anxious to meet you. But before you meet them, I have been asked to take you to meet another friend. Please, follow me.”
Ken followed Trel’mara as he led him toward a group of Chroniech standing off to one side apparently awaiting his arrival. As they approached, one of them stepped forward. “Captain Zatch!” Stricklen said smiling without showing his teeth. “I am very glad to see you again.”
The Captain extended his hand in the Human custom and the two shook. “All this,” Zatch said waving his arm in the air, “is a direct result of what you did when you saved my family. You will be remembered by both our peoples for a very long time.”
“As will you,” Stricklen replied. “If you had not risked your life and career to find me none of this would be happening. We are both responsible.”
While they had talked, another Chroniech had approached. Zatch reached over and wrapped his arm around the other. “This is my wife Tochiack. She was aboard the passenger liner that you rendered assistance to.”
Tochiack extended her arms, forearms up, toward Stricklen and uttered that ancient Chroniech word. Stricklen placed his hands on her arms and lightly pulled them toward her fingers. He replied as he had remembered although he didn’t quite get the pronunciation correct. Tochiack chuckled and whispered something into Zatch’s ear.
Zatch smiled and said, “She said you don’t have any claws to extend.”
Ken was introduced to the rest of Zatch’s entire family including his second wife and eight children. He then met with all the other Kyrra whom he had rescued from stasis over 15 years ago. After spending time with his old friends Ken wandered off towards the edge of the crowd and stood looking at the gathering.
