Peacekeeper 2 Page 7

  “What kind of joke is this?” Varku demanded.

  “This is not a joke,” Commander Choback replied. Pointing an extended claw at the screen he continued, “That is indeed a Kyrra planet-killer.”

  “Why are we sitting here?” Zathkra demanded. “We must destroy that ship. Now!”

  “The drone has found no signs of power production or usage,” Choback said. “The ship is completely powered down and at the moment poses no threat.”

  “If the AI on that ship wakes up we’re all dead,” Varku said, his voice on edge.

  “Sit down!” Choback ordered.

  Zathkra looked around the room then returned to his seat.

  Varku, however, remained standing. “What do you plan on doing?” he demanded. One lip was pulled up just enough to expose his teeth, a clear challenge and a demand for an answer.

  Choback had expected as much, especially from Varku. He was surprised that none of the others in the room had chosen to challenge him. He looked at Varku and waited until the Captain sat down before saying, “There’s no doubt we’re in a perilous situation. The ship appears to be completely inactive but there’s still a chance it could self-activate. If that happens, the ship’s computer will undoubtedly annihilate us. But I don’t think we have anything to worry about. I believe the ship was stored here by the ancient Kyrra, hidden away in this secret hangar on a remote planetoid, in case it was ever needed again. A handful of those warships nearly sent our ancestors into extinction. If we can learn its secrets, we will never again be defeated.”

  “You want to board it?” Varku asked, his claws dragging across the surface of the table as he balled his hands into fists.

  “Gritharg,” Choback addressed the other captain in the room. “Have your weapons officer rig a nuclear warhead so it can be remotely detonated. As soon as it’s ready, deliver it to Masthuma. I will be instructing him to attach the warhead to the planet-killer’s hull. We will evacuate the base and then Masthuma will enter the ship through the manual airlock. If it shows any signs of activation I will order its destruction.”

  “The warhead will be ready in a few hours, Commander,” Gritharg said.

  “Zathkra, evacuate the base. Gritharg, Varku, as soon as everyone is aboard, move the ships to a safe distance. I will remain here. Masthuma will enter the ship along with a small repair drone. Questions?” Choback looked at each of the senior staff, pausing just long enough to see if anyone had anything to say. “Very well. Dismissed!”

  * * * * *

  “The warhead is attached and armed,” Masthuma reported. “I’m heading for the airlock.”

  Choback kept a close eye on the readouts from the repair drone accompanying Masthuma. It was outfitted with extra sensors to detect even the slightest change in the warship’s power emissions. Using a repulsor pack, Masthuma floated down the side of the ship and approached the airlock. A dark panel, most likely a powered down touch-screen, was located to the left of the circular airlock door. A handwheel about a third of a meter in diameter was inside a recess under the panel.

  “I’m going to try to open the door with the manual handwheel,” Masthuma said for the benefit of everyone listening.

  He grabbed hold of the mechanism and turned. But instead of the handwheel moving, his entire body, supported only by the twin beams of the repulsor pack, began to rotate. The pack was meant to be used to maneuver a worker along the hull of a ship in space and was not designed to hold someone up in a gravity field. The engineers had modified it, boosting the repulsor’s output.

  “I don’t have enough leverage to turn the handwheel,” he reported. “Standby.”

  Reaching into his tool bag, he pulled out a magnetic clamp, positioned it near the hull, and then turned it on. The clamp refused to stick. “The hull is non-magnetic,” he said. “I’m going to have to use a stick-on.”

  Putting the clamp back in the bag, he foraged around the various tools inside until he found what he was looking for. Reaching over his head, he placed the base of the pyramid-shaped object on the hull and triggered the stick-on by pushing down on its rounded top. A black, gooey substance formed a bead around the base which quickly hardened. He gave it a tug.

  “The stick-on adheres well.”

  He placed a second stick-on then hooked himself to them with two short cables. Bracing his feet against the hull he leaned back until the cables were taut and tried the handwheel. After a bit of effort, it began to move. The hatch slowly swung out from the hull revealing an opening just over a meter in diameter.

  Sticking his head inside, Masthuma said, “It’s not an airlock. The hatch leads directly into the ship. Apparently the vessel was never designed to be occupied.”

  “Step back,” Choback ordered. “We’re sending the drone inside.”

  Masthuma reluctantly complied and watched as the drone, built to perform repairs inside cramped spaces, slowly entered the ship and then vanished from sight.

  Three hours later, satisfied that the planet-killer was completely inactive, Choback recalled his warships.

  * * * * *

  “The planet-killer is ours to do with as we please,” Commander Choback addressed his assembled staff. “Our inspection of the interior has revealed that all power accumulators are completely discharged and none of the auxiliary reactors are fueled. The drone also identified what we believe to be the main reactor but it is of a type we’ve never seen before. Chief engineer Masthuma is of the opinion that it is a matter/antimatter reactor. The entire ship appears to be in perfect condition.”

  Still images of the ship’s interior were appearing on the conference room’s main display. Choback entered a command into his keyboard causing the stream of images to be replaced by a view of the top of the ship. A large turret could be seen with what looked like the barrel of a gun protruding from one side.

  “This is the ship’s primary weapon; an energy cannon of immense power. If the stories from our ancestors are to be believed, this weapon is capable of defeating any known vessel.”

  A tap of a key caused another image to appear. This one showed a view of the underside of the warship. A series of cone-shaped objects could be seen clustered together in a large rectangular pattern taking up most of the bottom of the ship. “Masthuma believes this to be the actual planet-killer weapon. According to our ancient records, the Kyrra were able to seed the atmosphere of a planet with large amounts of antimatter. The annihilation radiation is what killed all life on the surface. We believe these cones are some type of weapon capable of converting matter into antimatter at a distance.”

  Choback brought up another image. This one showed a large spherical object surrounded by a web of conduits and heavy shock absorbing mounts. “This is the vessel’s combined stardrive and shield generator. If we can figure out how to make it work and to expand the field’s operational diameter, we’ll be able to protect this base against any conceivable form of attack.”

  Another click caused a schematic diagram of the ship to appear. “As you can see from this simplified diagram,” Choback explained, “All three of these components are powered from the single main reactor. Four additional fusion reactors are used to supply power to the 16 point defense systems. They also feed into the ship’s internal power grid. The AI appears to be housed in multiple modules scattered throughout the interior.”

  “That will make it difficult to completely disable the AI,” Gritharg said.

  “There will be no need to do so,” the Commander said. “I plan on dismantling the ship. Each of the components will be examined until we understand how it works. We’ll then incorporate those components we find useful into this base’s defense network. When our people free themselves from the barrier, they can use the knowledge we’ve obtained to build a fleet of warships that will crush the Alliance and then we’ll have our revenge on the cursed Kyrra.”

  “Or we could mount them on one of our ships and defeat the Alliance before our people return,” Masthuma said.

  Ch
oback glared at Masthuma. The engineer had come dangerously close to challenging his authority. “And if we fail,” he said, “the knowledge we’ve gained will be lost. Pick a team and develop an efficient method to disassemble the warship. Your first priority is to get the shield generator operational to provide the utmost protection for this base. After that, concentrate on understanding the weapon systems.”

  “I serve with honor,” Masthuma replied, saying the words ritual demanded in a bland, monotone voice.

  Varku approached Masthuma in the tunnel after the meeting broke up. The Captain looked around, not hiding the fact that he was making sure nobody else was within ear-shot. “I would like you to keep me informed of your progress,” he said, keeping his voice low.

  Suspicious, Masthuma looked at the Captain. “I’m sure the Commander won’t mind.”

  Taking a step closer, Varku lowered his voice to almost a whisper and added, “I don’t see any need to bother the Commander with the details of our arrangement.”

  Masthuma looked into the Captain’s eyes and saw a person who believed in the same things he did. “I serve with honor,” Masthuma replied with as much formality as he could.

  “I see we understand each other,” Varku replied. “I would also appreciate it if you would think about how to implement your idea of mounting the Kyrra components on our ships. There are some who are not in agreement with the Commander’s current line of thinking.”

  Raising his chin, Masthuma replied, “Such people echo my own thoughts.”

  “I’ll be in touch,” Varku said as he turned and walked down the tunnel.

  Chapter 12

  Seeker-class heavy scout ship: Built specifically for peacekeepers to serve as their home and office for as long as they remain a peacekeeper. The standard model is a black disk measuring 115 meters in diameter and 30 meters thick. Armament consists of a large Tholtaran-built antimatter-enhanced particle beam cannon, two free electron lasers, and a large capacity missile rack. The ship is protected by a Rouldian-built shield similar to those used in Mishpa-class interceptors. The power required to operate the vessel is provided by three 1,100 mega-watt fusion reactors and one 4,300 mega-watt main reactor. Personnel accommodations consist of three staterooms. The stateroom for the ship’s master is large and furnished according to the owner’s wishes. Two significantly smaller staterooms along with a shared bath are available for the rare guest. A slightly larger version is used for Rouldian, Shiltan, and Borillen peacekeepers.

  Lashpa paused at the entrance to the stateroom. Tom waved her inside.

  “Let’s get something straight right now,” he said. “We’re taking this trip together so we can get to know each other better. I don’t plan on ever closing my door. You may come and go as you please.”

  Pointing to the bathroom, he continued, “I do ask that if that door is closed you don’t open it unless there’s an emergency.”

  “I was hoping you would feel that way,” she replied, entering the room. “The same rules apply for myself as well. Get settled in while I put us on course to Fanish.”

  “That’s a good idea. I’ll swing by the control center when I’m done.”

  Lashpa began to leave then turned around. “Tom,” she began, then hesitated for a moment. “Thank you.”

  Tom walked over and patted her neck. Like his chest armor, the armor protecting her neck was removable and she was not wearing it at the moment. “You don’t need to thank me. This is the right thing to do.”

  “Parichtur tried to talk me out of this,” she admitted. “She’s lived among Terrans for many years and was quite upset when I told her we were gragrakch.”

  Tom nodded his head in understanding. Parichtur, was Lashpa’s supervisor and he could easily see her being upset. “I’ve encountered the same thing. My sister is not at all pleased with our relationship. She thinks we’re in love and you’re the reason why I’ve not settled down with a human woman.”

  “Love is an emotion with as many meanings as there are species,” Lashpa replied. “It’s not an easy word to translate. Shandarians love whoever they’re with at the moment. Tholtaran love is based on a chemical change that takes place during mating that profoundly affects the female’s behavior and causes the male to become extraordinarily protective. Rouldian love is directed towards our mates and our family and once formed it can never be broken.”

  “You’re one of the few advanced species that mate for life,” Tom said, walking over to the bed where his small bag of personal belongings lay.

  “Unlike Terrans,” Lashpa said. “If a Rouldian mate dies, the other can never find a replacement. It’s physically impossible for us to do so. Terrans seem to be far more flexible than many other species. I’ve heard it said that Terran love is as powerful and as fleeting as a supernova. When you’re in love it consumes you but the emotion can quickly pass.”

  “That’s as good an explanation as I’ve ever heard,” Tom admitted, dumping the contents of his bag on the bed. “There’s a lot of truth in that.”

  Lashpa turned to leave, and again stopped and turned back around. “Do you love me Tom?”

  Tom froze. For a brief instant he felt panic. How was he supposed to answer such a question? Can a Rouldian truly understand what the word meant to a human? Grabbing his bathroom bag, he turned around and said, “Yes I do, Lashpa. But I don’t love you like I might love a wife or my parents. I’ve had a chance to do a lot of thinking about this. The best way for me to describe how I feel toward you is that it’s one of absolute trust. There are no boundaries between us. No secrets. Nothing hidden. A human couple would call this love. But we are of different species and the only word that describes what we have is gragrakch.”

  Lashpa dipped her head and turned away. From the look of her tail and the way she was walking, she was very pleased with that answer. Tom stood and stared out into the empty hallway for several seconds, a huge smile on his face. He then resumed the task of stowing his personal belongings. A few minutes later, he felt the ship lift off. They were on their way to Fanish.

  After putting the rest of his stuff away, Tom headed for the control center. As he passed Lashpa’s stateroom, something hanging on the wall caught his eye. He stopped and went inside to get a closer look. It was a picturesque scene of a field of flowers in a mountain pass. What had originally brought it to his attention was its size; three meters wide and two meters high. His interest grew into amazement as he examined the details. He was still standing in front of it when Lashpa walked into the room.

  “Do you like it?” she asked.

  “I love it,” Tom replied. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

  “It’s called living art,” she replied. “I started it at the academy.”

  Tom reached out and gently touched one of the tiny flowers. “You did this? These are real!”

  Close examination revealed that the entire scene was composed of tiny plants arranged and carefully groomed to create a three-dimensional picture of incredible beauty.

  “My mother taught me. If properly cared for the picture will last for many years but it does require constant care.”

  “Like a bonsai tree,” Tom said.

  Lashpa paused as she queried her ship for information then replied, “Yes, except this scene is made up of hundreds of carefully selected plants.”

  “I had no idea you were so talented,” Tom admitted. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  Lashpa and Tom quickly discovered that living together within the close confines of a scout ship is an eye-opening experience. Each had received a basic education on the other’s culture as part of their academy training. But a two-hour lecture was no substitute for living side by side every hour of every day for weeks inside a small metal container hurtling through space. The large amount of time they spent together at the academy had given them a head start towards a deeper understanding of each other but it didn’t take long for the two peacekeepers to realize they had much to
learn.

  After two days they settled into a sort of routine. Their day usually began in the ship’s tiny kitchen talking about themselves over breakfast. Because of the time they spent together at the academy, Tom was used to the fact that Lashpa preferred her food live and squirming. On the other hand, she had learned to tolerate the smell of cooked meat. This allowed them to focus on what was more important, getting to know each other.

  After breakfast, they usually played a game of chess or just sat and talked. The time after lunch was unofficially designated as private time although this was rarely the case. Lashpa spent her time tending to her living art, reading, communicating with her relatives, and keeping an eye on the operation of the ship. Tom liked to read and watch old science fiction and comedy shows. Most of the time, these became shared activities.

  Their evenings were usually spent together alternating between one or the other’s staterooms. They would talk, play chess, or simply sit in quiet silence, each engaged in a private activity such as reading.

  “Why do you find these shows so fascinating?” Lashpa asked one day.

  Tom paused the show he was watching. A spaceship that looked more like a spiny puffer fish was firing an energy beam at another vessel.

  “I really don’t know,” he admitted. “The physics is all wrong and some of the ships are completely illogical. The stories are interesting though.”

  “We produced similar shows in our past,” Lashpa said, settling in next to him. “But I don’t find them interesting enough to spend time watching them. Do you have a favorite you could share with me?”

  “That’s a tough one,” he replied, stroking his chin with his thumb and index finger. “This one is called Babylon 5. It has a good story line and the characters are all interesting. I’m also a big Star Trek fan. There’s another series called Battlestar Galactica that has some interesting ships and machine intelligence but their fighters fly through space as if they’re in an atmosphere. And then there are the movies like The Forbidden Planet and- - -”