Peacekeeper 2 Page 4

  Cassandra’s face lit up with understanding. “So you love Lashpa like a sister!”

  “That’s pretty close,” Tom admitted.

  “Now I really feel like an idiot,” she said, looking down. “I just don’t want to see my brother going through life alone.”

  “I’m perfectly happy with my life right now sis. I do appreciate the attempt though and I’m still going to have breakfast at Paula’s diner when I get back.”

  “She’ll be so glad to see you,” she beamed.

  “The main reason I called is that I need to ask you a favor.”

  “Sure. Anything.”

  Following Tom’s explanation, Cassandra was quick to agree to his request. “Certain words need to be spoken,” he said in conclusion. “I’ll send you an email with the exact details so you and John can get it right.”

  “The kids will be visiting next weekend,” she replied. “We’ll make the video then.”

  “Perfect. I gotta run sis. Thank you.”

  “I love you Tom,” she said, wiping away a tear he could not see.

  Tom reached out and put his finger over the button that would terminate the call. “I love you too sis. Bye.”

  “Bye, booger br- - -”

  Tom ended the call before she had a chance to finish.

  Chapter 6

  “Multiple drive-wakes detected!” the tactical station announced. “They’re on a direct course here.”

  “It’s probably the hunting party returning with their latest prize,” Base Commander Zathkra said.

  “Confirmed. Three drive-wakes. Our two ships and an Alliance vessel. ETA 48 minutes.”

  Zathkra flipped a switch on his simple console causing a loud tone to sound throughout the underground base. “All available personnel prepare to receive supplies. Chief Engineer Masthuma, report to the operations center.”

  A few minutes later, Masthuma walked into the room. It looked nothing like the sleek, operationally efficient, technologically advanced, tactical operations center they were all used to. This one had been assembled from the scavenged components of destroyed ships built by several different species.

  After learning they were trapped in Alliance space, Group Commander Choback decided that instead of dying in useless combat they would find a place to build a temporary home. It took a month of searching and hiding from the Alliance patrols looking for stragglers like themselves before they happened upon a large planetoid floating in the depths of space. Detailed scans found the planetoid to be nothing more than a barren ball of rock. The Commander ordered the construction of an underground base.

  His first priority was to build living quarters for the crew of the most severely damaged battleship. It had barely managed to make it to the planetoid. As soon as enough room was carved out of the solid rock to house them, the crew moved into their new quarters and the task of dismantling the damaged ship began.

  Its weapons and fusion reactors were removed and used to power and protect the new base. The entire ship was eventually cannibalized, its structural members were now part of the tunnels and rooms they had dug. Sensors, computers, water and air purification systems, and other useful items were now a part of the base’s infrastructure. Other parts were used to repair and maintain the remaining two ships.

  “The Commander is on his way back,” Zathkra told Masthuma. “He’ll want a report of the results of your activities.”

  “If the Commander hadn’t ordered us to maintain communications silence I could already have told him,” Masthuma complained. “The Alliance cannot detect our transmissions.”

  “We don’t know what technology the Kyrra shared with the Alliance,” Zathkra sharply replied. Masthuma had always been lax when addressing his superiors and Zathkra was becoming tired of such behavior, especially since it had become worse in recent weeks.

  “Be careful about voicing such opinions to the Commander when he arrives,” Zathkra added in an icy, warning tone. “He’s not as forgiving as I.”

  “What can he do?” Masthuma asked. “Sentence me to life imprisonment on a barren ball of rock in the middle of enemy space?!”

  “That will be enough!” Zathkra got out of his chair and approached the engineer. “None of us are happy with our current situation. The Commander is in charge and you will respect his authority or I shall make sure that your unpleasant stay on this barren ball of rock becomes even more unpleasant.”

  Masthuma stared at the Base Commander then tilted his head up slightly to signify compliance. “I’ll have my report ready by the time the Commander returns. He can find me in the conference room.”

  Zathkra watched as Masthuma turned and walked out of the room. They had once been close friends but when Commander Choback promoted Zathkra to base commander shortly after discovering the planetoid, it had put a strain on the friendship. Zathkra was a firm believer in following the rules and showing proper respect for his superiors. Now that he was base commander, he expected the chief engineer to show him the respect he deserved. It rarely happened.

  Chapter 7

  “We’re being asked to participate in a search and possible rescue,” the Orion whispered in Tom’s ear. “A small course correction will be required.”

  Tom finished removing a sliver of wood from along the roof-line of the tiny house he was carving. Setting the knife down, he asked, “What’s going on?”

  “A civilian cargoliner, the Spirondak, carrying 107 passengers has apparently vanished. It was on-time and on-course at its last checkpoint but has failed to check in at its next checkpoint as scheduled. They’re now overdue by over half a day. We’re not far from their flight path.”

  “Acknowledge the request and alter course,” Tom ordered. “Maximum speed until we’re on our assigned search path then slow to 1,000c.”

  The hum of the stardrive deepened as the ship accelerated. Setting his carving aside, Tom made his way to the control center.

  The main screen displayed a long-range tactical view. The known course of the cargoliner was displayed in red along with an icon indicating where it had last been located; a deep-space monitoring station located about 34 light years from Glish. The Orion’s assigned search path was identified by a blue line. Unlike most other vessels, the Orion was designed to be operated and crewed by a single individual. Instead of a bridge, the ship had a control center.

  The control center consisted of a single, custom-built chair specifically designed to accommodate the ship’s cybernetically enhanced owner. The main screen was mounted above the center of the control panel. Secondary screens were stacked three high and arranged in a semicircle around the command chair. Navigational controls for maneuvering were located directly underneath the main screen. An array of switches and other discrete controls filled the angled portion of the control panel. All of the ship’s functions could be controlled and monitored from here.

  “Civilian ships just don’t disappear,” Tom said, as he settled into the command chair. “They’re required to follow very specific flight paths and they carry multiple distress beacons.”

  “Three other vessels have gone missing over the past two years,” the ship stated.

  “In this area?”

  “All within 50 light-years of our current location.”

  “That’s odd. Other than during the war, I can’t remember the last time I heard of a civilian ship being lost.”

  “Based upon the records I have available, the civilian shipping industry had a near-perfect safety record prior to the war.”

  “You’d better send a message to Lashpa informing her we might be a little late,” Tom said.

  “Already done.”

  Fifteen hours and seven light-years later, the Orion slowed as it began to move along its assigned search path.

  “Transmitting beacon activation signal,” the ship announced.

  Even though the ship’s sophisticated AI was fully capable of carrying out the search on its own, Tom didn’t feel comfortable leaving the control cente
r. He could have returned to his carving or spent time watching one of the hundreds of science fiction films stored in the ship’s memory but doing so would not have felt right. He always felt a need to be where the action was and that meant staying in the control center.

  He busied himself by pulling up the specs of the Spirondak then keeping a close eye on his instruments as the search progressed. He would occasionally communicate with the other ships conducting the search, if nothing more than to check up on their progress. One of the advantages of being a cyborg was the ability to remain seated or standing for hours without becoming uncomfortable. The only time Tom left the control center was to eat or relieve himself. What little sleep he needed was taken in the command chair.

  Thirty-four hours passed.

  “Incoming transmission from the Clepter,” the Orion announced.

  Glancing at the tactical display to confirm what he already knew, Tom noted that the Clepter, a Shandarian light cruiser that had been running parallel to his own course since the beginning of the search, was rapidly coming to a halt. A single thought directed to his biolink caused the image of the cruiser’s captain to appear on one of his displays.

  “How can I help you Captain Naruth?”

  “We may have found something,” the Captain replied. “We picked up a momentary faint distress signal. We’re reversing course to see if we can’t pick it up again. You’re not far from my location and we could use the help.”

  The Orion’s AI had already taken action, rapidly slowing the ship. As the Seeker-class scout dropped out of stardrive, Tom replied, “Reversing course now. I’ll have my ship link up with yours so they can work out a search pattern.”

  “Thank you for your help Peacekeeper Wilks.”

  The Captain’s face faded from view. “Link established with the Clepter,” the Orion announced as the ship reengaged its stardrive. It was far easier to drop out of stardrive and then reengage in the opposite direction than to make an enormous, multi-billion kilometer turn at FTL velocities. Changing course at faster than light speed is not as easy as people seem to think. Ships cannot instantaneously stop or alter their direction.

  The Clepter had reversed course and was now approaching the area where the signal had been picked up at a greatly reduced velocity. The Orion headed for the same point in space but at a slightly different angle. About 15 minutes later, the Clepter suddenly dropped out of stardrive as it reacquired the signal. Three minutes later, Tom experienced a wave of dizziness as the Orion executed an emergency drop to normal space.

  “I have a signal,” the Orion reported. “The beacon ID indicates it’s from the Spirondak.”

  Signal strengths and directions were compared, the math was solved and both ships took off toward a point in space under sublight drive. Working together, the computers aboard the two ships continued to refine the projected location of the signal.

  Forty-five minutes later, the Orion announced, “Picking up a small object directly ahead. Distance 1.43 million kilometers. It’s about the size and configuration of a work pod. Moving to intercept.”

  “Nothing else?” Tom asked.

  “I’m detecting no other objects in the area. I’m also detecting a short-range radio carrier on the same frequency used for inter-suit communication.”

  “The Spirondak wouldn’t have left a work pod behind. Where are they?”

  Multiple attempts by both rescue ships failed to elicit a response. Tom waited while the Clepter used a repair drone to retrieve the pod.

  “We have a survivor,” Captain Naruth reported. “Other than being slightly dehydrated, he’s in fairly good shape physically but he appears to be in a state of shock. He’s completely unresponsive and just stares straight ahead like he’s trapped in his own personal hell. We’re taking him to Glish.”

  “I’ll remain in the area awhile longer,” Tom replied. “But I have doubts we’ll find anything. The Spirondak would never willingly leave someone behind. Pull the pod’s log. It might provide some information as to what happened.”

  “Will do. Thanks again for your help. Clepter out.” The Captain’s face vanished from the display.

  “Orion, contact the Pattington and have them fit us back into the search.”

  “The Pattington reports that our assistance is no longer required,” the ship replied.

  “In that case, set course for Glish.”

  Chapter 8

  Transdimensional Barrier: An extreme warping of an enormous volume of space caused by an artificially generated hyperdimensional field. The Kyrra trapped the Chroniech along with themselves inside this hyperdimensional bubble bringing an end to the Chroniech war. Since gravity transcends all dimensions, the gravitational effects of the stars within the barrier can be felt outside. This lead to navigational problems for ships until a fix was developed.

  The conference room was not much more than a metal-lined artificial cave with a table and some chairs set in the middle. Instead of the standard holographic display, a large computer screen was mounted on one wall. The table and chairs were from a fancy dining room and the door had been salvaged from the cabin of the same captured passenger ship.

  “What have you found?” Group Commander Choback asked after having taken a seat.

  “Detailed scans of the surface have failed to identify any abnormalities Commander,” Masthuma replied.

  “Do you still believe you’ve found some sort of hatch?”

  “I do. I also believe it was designed to be nearly impossible to detect. It was cut out of the solid rock of the planetoid itself using a force field. This makes the hatch indistinguishable from the planetoid. The glide rails must not reach too close to the surface or the drone’s sensors would have found them.”

  Masthuma touched a key on a keyboard causing a graphical image to appear on the wall-mounted screen. It was an image of a huge plug of rock hanging above a hole in the ground. Cutaway views indicated the location of the rails that helped guide the plug into the hole.

  “My men manually chipped away the rock around the object in the new tunnel and after close examination we’ve confirmed it’s a very large glide rail. This image is an estimate of what the plug should look like based on the rail’s configuration and the slight curvature of the discontinuity we discovered earlier.”

  Choback stood up and walked closer to the display. “How would such a hatch be opened?” he asked, tracing the outline of the plug with a claw. “And where does it lead?”

  “As for how it’s opened,” Masthuma replied, holding his hand out, palm up, claws extended in a gesture meaning he was grasping for answers out of thin air. “A tractor beam? Hydraulics underneath? An exterior mechanism that has long since vanished? I don’t know Commander. But I do intend to find out where it leads.”

  “How?” Choback asked.

  “We tunneled around the glide rail and continued forward three meters into the hatch. The tunneling rig’s waste conveyor has been modified so it can dig straight down. If this is indeed a removable plug, we’ll soon find out what it opens into.”

  The Commander rubbed his chin in thought. “Have you taken precautions in case you encounter a vacuum?”

  “I have. We’ve installed an airlock scavenged from the last ship you captured. Anyone going beyond the airlock is now required to wear a spacesuit. We’re dumping the debris from the excavation into one of the side tunnels originally scheduled to be outfitted as crew quarters.”

  “Well done. You will immediately inform me the moment you find anything no matter what the time of day.”

  “Understood Commander. I’m assuming you’ll want me to look at our most recent prize?”

  “Not until after we know where that door you discovered leads. That is your top priority at the moment. We brought back a large cargoliner and it will take some time to unload. Afterwards, you can survey the ship for useful components.”

  “Excellent! The furnishings for the passengers should enable us to complete the base’s crew quarters as
soon as we’ve finished excavating them. Was there anything of interest in its cargo hold?”

  “Nothing you would be interested in,” the Commander replied. “We’ll be eating quite well for some time though; the hold is packed with edible plants.”

  “Zathkra will be pleased,” Masthuma said, keeping the tone of his voice neutral.

  The Commander slid his chair back and stood up signifying the end of the meeting. “I know you don’t approve of my assigning Zathkra as base commander,” Choback said. “He is your superior officer and I expect you to treat him as such. Your recent lack of respect for his position has been noted. You will adopt a more respectful attitude towards him. Am I clear?”

  “Yes Commander,” Masthuma replied, lifting his chin.

  “You’re my best engineer,” Choback said. “Don’t worry. I don’t think it will be much longer before our people find a way to break free of the dimensional barrier.”

  “It’s been over three years,” Masthuma heard himself say. Too late to retract his statement, he added, “This is not how a soldier should live.”

  “A soldier will live any way his commander tells him to and he will do so without complaint,” Choback said, as he turned and walked out of the room.

  Masthuma left the conference room in a foul mood. He had joined the space force to experience the thrill of combat. Being forced to spend the rest of his life hiding inside a barren planetoid was beginning to wear on his nerves. After donning a work suit, he cycled through the temporary airlock and entered the tunnel leading towards the new excavation. The conveyor carrying away the waste rock took up almost half of the tunnel. Over the conveyor’s rumble and the squeaking of its rollers, he could hear the sound of the tunnel excavation machine.

  Suddenly, the whine of the rig’s drilling motor increased in frequency. A second later, there was a loud screeching sound followed by a roar as the conveyor violently jerked. Masthuma quickly slammed his helmet down and grabbed hold of one of the conveyor’s supports as a strong but brief wind tried to pull him off his feet. His suit stiffened as the air was evacuated from the tunnel, pulling clouds of dust and small particles of debris with it. Rocks fell off the conveyor as it came to a rapid halt. As soon as the wind died down, he broke into a run and quickly made his way to the control station.