Thumar

“Jack!” Derak exclaimed in excitement, as he embraced him.

“Ouch… oooh… let go, please, the ribs. The doctor told me it will take weeks to heal.”

“Sorry, are you alright?”

Jack caught his breath. “Yes, it’s good to see you again. What are you doing here? I thought you would have your own command by now.”

“I do, but it’s not a ship. I was supposed to be assigned to The Apache, but Morton overrode those orders. I’m a base commander assigned to the diplomatic corps.”

“Tara?” Jack asked.

“Yeah, Morton was all smiles as he watched my shuttle leave. What about you? Commander and XO, how did The Armstrong perform in trials?”

“Great, she handles like a dream and came through with flying colors. I love the reverse magnetic thrust space drive. Have you come to inspect her?”

“Yes, that and a general inspection of the space docks. You’re welcome to join me.”

“You need to see the vids first. They’re quite enlightening in a bad way. The Kek’s have a new weapon we have to deal with now. It rendered our shields and armor useless.”

“I might be able to adjust the field harmonics of the shields. I’ll have to study the reports first. Show me the vid now.”

The room darkened and the 3D holo-vid played back the entire battle.

Derak was silent for a moment; the carnage saddened him greatly. “What happened to Eregor, did they survive?”

“Thankfully, yes. The ASOs destroyed one Ging cruiser. Caught them with their pants down. They shot out of the atmosphere and shredded their bottom side with phase cannon fire. By the time they finished them off, they sustained enough damage to take them out of the fight, with only two minor injuries. The Apache arrived the next day and fortified the base. Three Calvary class cruiser are assigned to protect them.”

“What about the new weapons, do we know anything yet?”

“No, Thumarian science teams are going over the ship now. Alliance representatives are arriving in three days to assist them. This new technology scares me, Derak.”

“It is alarming. How’s Bob? I understand he took a beating.”

“He’s fine, recovering in the space docks hospital. He has broken ribs and suffered a severe concussion.”

“What were your personnel losses?”

Jack lowered his head in grief. “The hydro-bay and large sections of decks four through six on our port side, mid-ship, are just holes now. Almost one hundred dead and just as many injured. We lost good men and women in nuetral space.”

“You saved the ship and brought the rest of the crew to safety, an admirable feat. You should be proud of yourself, Jack.”

“It’s hard for me to feel that way. The loss of one life is too many.”

“War is hell, Jack. That is what we signed up for. Now you need to show me the damage.”

Jack took him on a tour of The Armstrong’s damage. The open grid structure of the lower half of the space docks had a force field around it with a heated oxygen atmosphere inside. Activity was buzzing with ships getting refueled, refitted and repaired.

The AS Armstrong occupied one of the larger berths. They boarded an open-air flitter and began the inspection. She was pretty thrashed; her aft starboard and the port armor were missing half of the plating, revealing the first layer of her hull.

Minor hull breaches pocketed her aft side, with cross beams and the interior of the ship in view. A major hull breach behind the bridge opened up to what used to be the hydroponics bay. The breach on the port side was larger. Forensic science crews scoured every inch of The Armstrong that sustained damage.

They entered through the largest breach and made their way to the bridge. Wiring and support beams hung from the ceiling and littered the deck. Some had blood on them from where they struck the bridge crew.

“I’m surprised you brought her here in this condition, Jack. I must commend you on a job well done.”

“We almost didn’t make it,” Jack admitted. “We had to drop out of hyperspace early to eject the core. The sub-light drive survived with just enough to get us into orbit. They had to tow us in the rest of the way. The med teams did a marvelous job with the wounded. The fire control teams stabilized the remaining space drives, and we saved the primary systems.”

Jack became very agitated. “They came out of nowhere, Derak. I’m telling you, those cruisers were highly modified. They were as fast and agile as fighters. Those last two hits scared the shit out of me. If they have more of those cruisers, we’re in for big trouble. I’m just thankful we got out when we did, or we would have been part of that debris field.”

“I am too, Jack. I’m so sorry for your losses.”

After finishing the inspection of The Armstrong, Derak and Jack were shown the rest of the space docks. At lunch, Derak told Jack about the festival.

“Jack, Thumar is holding a global holiday for the next three days. Come and join me for the celebration. Give your crew some shore leave. It’s guaranteed to be fun.”

“That sounds like a good idea; the crew could use some R&R after what they’ve just been through.”

“Call your crew together for a briefing.”

An hour later, Derak and Jack found themselves in a large briefing room in the upper half of the space docks. The crew filed in and took their seats. Both of them walked out to the lectern.

“Officer on the deck.”

“As you were,” Derak said. “Please take your seats. I’m captain Jamar, and I’ve been the Kalidar base commander for the past six months, I’m the Alliance’s military representative to Thumar. In that time, I’ve become acquainted with some Thumarian customs. You have all been notified about the Festival of the Lights, a global festival celebrating the discovery of the Anean Light Caves. Before you attend, I need to address some Thumarian social protocol. You must remember this is not Earth or any Terran colony. Thumarians adhere to strict public practices.

“I’ll start with some slides.” The room darkened and the giant plaz-screen came to life. “This is an average Thumarian woman.” A picture showing a tall, beautiful woman filled the screen. The vid showed an angular face, high cheekbones, auburn shoulder length hair, and hazel eyes. A few hoots and whistles escaped the men.

“None of that, men. Act like that tomorrow and you’ll be escorted back here, very quickly,” said Derak.

“Now, it’s the women’s turn.” The next slide followed with a typical tall, buff Thumarian man. He had a strong jaw, green eyes, and short black hair. A few of the women’s reactions mirrored their male counterparts.

“The same rules for the men apply to the women. There will be no fooling around. All of you represent the Alliance. This is the first time outsiders have attended this celebration.”

The next slide showed a couple holding hands. “Hand holding, light body contact, and kissing is only reserved for engaged and married couples. When a Thumarian couple is dating, they can walk or stand close to each other.

“Thumarians can be very friendly and they initiate regular interactions. Do not try any pickup lines; save it for that pleasure planet, Nova III. Remember the protocol; it’s strictly a hands-off policy. Otherwise, you might find yourself engaged. That’s all. Enjoy the festival.”

“Attention.” The entire room rose in unison.

“Impressive, Jack, you have a sharp crew.”

“Thanks. Let me walk you to your shuttle.”

They talked about old times and new assignments on their way to the shuttle bay. Back on the shuttle, Derak contacted Terga.

“How are the upgrades going, Terga?”

“They should be finished today.”

“I’m going to take a little detour on the way down. I’ll be back on the surface in about an hour.”

As the shuttle cleared the docking ring, Derak gave his pilot instructions. “I want to look at the station and Thumar from a higher orbit.”

“Yes, sir, setting course now.”

Lieutenant Franks, a very capable pilot, had been assigned to him by central command. It was one of the only assignments he agreed with in a long time. They cleared a higher orbit and settled in above the space docks. Derak marveled at the view. The hull of the artificial moon gleamed golden in the reflecting sunlight, with Thumar sparkling like a priceless gem below.

Descending to the planet, Derak instructed lieutenant Franks to pass by The Armstrong. She was a beautiful ship. One thing, the Alliance got right, was her design.

“Approaching the planet’s atmosphere, sir.”

I would love to experience the RMT, even if I didn’t build it. Perhaps I can get Jack to take me on a tour of our solar system here. After all, the repairs have to be tested before they go out into deep space again.

“Very good, Lieutenant, take us over Ganmer’s capital city, Shenmar. I want to take a look before tomorrow’s festival.”

“Yes, sir, plotting course now.”

Upon returning to CNC, Carol handed Derak the directions that the ambassador had given her. He was to be picked up at 1730 hours by her bodyguard, Karn. He would then fly him to her favorite restaurant. She even outlined the civilian clothing to be worn for proper attire. He left CNC and went back to his quarters to get ready, hoping that he had something in his wardrobe that was appropriate. Derak’s usual assignments, in the past, had little to do with this level of social interaction and the contents of his closet reflected it. He managed to find one suit. It was more than acceptable for Terran black tie affairs: a gray double-breasted suit with a white shirt and a new collar tie. At Terga’s reminder of the time, he walked to the rendezvous point. Karn was waiting.

Karn was six feet, six inches tall, burly and muscular. Derak could tell by his predatory body language that he was highly trained in his profession. Both men assessed each other. Karn nodded and then led Derak to the open door of the ground car. It was a thirty foot long, sleek black limousine with auto tinting plaz-glass. It was equipped with a magnetic suspensor lift system, capable of terrestrial and space flight. It definitely was the most luxurious model Derak had seen to-date, with large viewing windows and was phase cannon-proof. Diplomatic flags

flew on the front of the car that would grant them admittance anywhere.

Karn arrived at Theregon’s in the Pargon dining section of Shenmar. The Pargon section was where the higher echelons of Thumarian society gathered. He parked the car and showed Derak to the front door without saying a word.

Once inside, the host met Derak with a sour look. “May I help you, sir?”

“I’m meeting Shesain Andehar. I’m Captain Derak Jamar.”

“Right this way, sir.” Derak received strange looks from the other diners as he passed them. Shesain looked up at him from the table and frowned.

“Thank you, Telkar. I’ll take it from here.”

The host left with a relieved look on his face.

“You look like you’re mourning the loss of a loved one.” She remarked and stood up. “Follow me, and let’s put some color into that drab outfit of yours.”

He followed her to a wardrobe room where she began to look at multi-colored sashes until she found an appropriate one. She walked over and gracefully placed it over Derak’s left shoulder and smoothed it out.

“That’s better.” She commented. “Your Alliance formal wear is as bland as your diet.”

She gave him an appraising look, sort of. Suddenly, Derak was taken in by the full impact of her beauty and the fullness of her tall, voluptuous figure. She had a serene face with full lips, long auburn hair, and kind brown eyes. He could get lost in those eyes forever. He must have been far too angry to notice them when they were in his office.

“You look enchanting in that dress,” he said.

“Thank you, Captain. Those colors make you look… far more acceptable, but we are going to have to do something about your wardrobe. For now, let’s get back to our table.”

He didn’t receive any more strange looks on the return to the table and Telkar seemed considerably relieved when he saw him again.

“May I get you something to drink?” he inquired. “An Andehar chardonnay, a ’05 vintage?”

“Yes, Telkar, that would be fine, thank you. You seem to be in a better mood, Derak. I think we can address each other on a first name basis now since we will be working together. In my experience, you get more accomplished if you are not trying to bite someone’s head off.”

“Certain people need more than their heads bitten off, but you make a good point, Shesain,” he answered calmly, smiling.

“Let’s try and have a pleasant evening, shall we?”

Telkar returned with the wine and menus. He started to hand them to them when Shesain indicated that she was ready to order. “I’ve had experience with Terran’s, and I know an excellent introductory dish to start you out with.” She ordered the appetizers, dinners, and dessert. Telkar smiled and walked away.

Derak took a sip of the wine and complimented her on the choice. She told him it was one of her father’s best years.

“I have a question, Shesain, and I hope I’m not being too impertinent.” he hesitated.

“Ask the question, and I’ll let you know.”

Still hesitant, not wanting to offend, he asked. “Are all Thumarian men and women so well developed?”

“That was very diplomatic, Derak. Most inquiries I get on that subject usually have offensive off-world slang attached to the question. Our women, for the most part, have figures similar to mine. Others have slimmer figures, but those generally make up our dancers. The average height of most of our women is five foot ten inches tall. Some do have thicker figures, but these come from our agriculture districts, built by hard labor in the fields. They are a hardy folk with a rich sense of humor. Our society is structured around hard work and equality, with no gender bias.

“The village folk have the usual identifiable Thumarian face, but with a thicker bone structure. The high cheek bones, you may have noticed, are more prominent in the Founder’s bloodlines. We have kept to our agrarian roots and honor those who provide our food. The men are the same in their variety and average about six feet four inches tall with stocky bodies much like yours.”

The appetizers arrived. Shesain described them. “We call this charush. It’s a vegetable dish lightly sautéed in a garlic butter. Enjoy.”

They ate in silence, and the charush was exquisite. Thumarian food had its merits, even if it was mainly vegetarian. Shesain finished her appetizer, took a sip of wine, and continued the interview.

“Now, I would like to know more about you. Shall we start with where and how you grew up?” She smiled as her brown eyes glittered with anticipation.

Derak hesitated while he wiped his mouth with the napkin. “My story isn’t that unusual,” he dryly replied.

“I beg to differ; I’ve read your file. There remains only a handful of living recipients of the Zertha Braid in the galaxy, and most of them aren’t in the prime of health as you are. In fact, most of them are dead. You must have a very interesting back story, indeed.”

He stalled for time. The circumstances behind the braid, is something I’d rather forget. “That back story is filled with bad memories.”

She smiled a sweet, disarming smile. “Then we will leave that one alone. Tell me about growing up on Earth. You have my full attention.” She insisted.

He took a drink of wine and started. “I was born in 2365 in New York City, on Earth.”

“2365? You don’t look… forty nine.”

“It must be my genetic makeup.”

“New York City? Tell me about it.” She smiled.

“NYC is considered one of the least attractive cities to live in the United Regions of North America.”

“Where did you grow up in New York City?”

“I grew up on the border of Brooklyn and Queens, the Irish side.”

“How far from Brooklyn did you live?”

“Fifteen feet away from trouble, literally, nowhere near the neutral zone. It’s a rough life outside of the neutral zone, and each borough is territorial. You either joined the established borough unions or the street gangs. The unions are nothing more than sanctioned gangs, I chose neither.”

“How did you survive?”

Leaning forward in his chair, his voice took on a hard edge. “I grew up angry, hard, and fast. The streets were my school until I was taken in by a martial arts master. Master Li was a Master of Kung Fu, Wing Chung, and the ancient art of Ninjitsu.”

“And this association helped you?” She probed further.

He leaned back in his chair again and softened, somewhat. “Not only did this help me in fights, Master Li taught me the mental discipline to prevent them. He helped me channel my anger and gain control of my mind and thoughts. The hardest lesson I learned was to stay out of fights and walk away, as often as it was feasible to do so.”

“Did it work?”

“Most of the time, my lessons in the dojo were harder than life on the streets. Master Li nurtured my intellect and understanding. I was always smarter than the other students, but I didn’t know why. I think my parents knew, but they never gave me the encouragement or support I needed. Not because they didn’t love me. They knew I had to grow up tough to survive. Master Li taught me to work as hard in school as I did in the dojo. Failure was not an option, and the punishment when I did fail was tough. My father was rough on me out of frustration. He neither understood nor accepted the fact that I was different. Master Li pushed me because he wanted me to live up to my potential.”

Dinner arrived and was served with a flourish. It was another vegetarian dish with superior taste. The wine complemented the meal.

“You don’t eat meat?” Derak asked.

She eyed him with a sour look on her face. “I must remember your Earth customs. Our diet is mostly plant-based. We eat meat on special occasions, temple celebrations mostly. We’ve learned to flavor our food to make it more appetizing.”

“I’d like to know a little about you,” he questioned. “How did you enter the political arena?”

She smiled before she started. “My ancestors are the founders of modern Thumarian culture. Our family has held important political positions for centuries. My uncle Remor is the current president of Thumar. I decided, early on in life, that I wanted to enter politics. I studied political science and entered the ambassador corps as an intern. I worked my way up through numerous key assignments which highlighted my talents. It was soon discovered that I had the ability to read a situation and come up with profitable solutions that benefited both sides, always tilted in Thumar’s interests, of course. That’s how I rose to my present position. Family names are important while rising through the ranks, but performance determines who gets the job in the end,” she concluded.

“And you’re single. Have you never had a Thumarian man catch your eye?”

“I haven’t found the one that leaves me in wonderment yet.” She smiled.

“Like an Earth man on shore leave for the first time on the streets of Shenmar?” Derak quipped.

She laughed with a sparkle in her eyes. “Not that obvious.”

Dessert arrived. It was a delightful flaming berry sorbet. A glass of dessert wine finished the meal off. The table was cleared as Derak enjoyed an evening with a smart, compassionate, beautiful woman.

“Derak, I would like you to accompany me to the Festival of the Lights tomorrow, as my guest,” Shesain stated with a serious smile. “It would show signs of diplomatic progress. I would also like to know more about you on the ride since we will be working together on civilian matters.”

“I would be honored,” he replied. “Where shall we meet?”

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll pick you up at 0630 in the morning, in your lobby. Karn will drop you off at the base tonight. Get a good night’s sleep. Our festivals can be exhausting.”

“Why so early?”

“I’d like to show you some of our countryside first and there will be a reception line with VIP introductions. We need to arrive before my uncle starts the festival.”

They walked out to the lobby, and Telkar received his sash. Shesain was escorted out by another large bodyguard. Karn directed Derak to the waiting ground car and delivered him back to the base. Upon entering his quarters, Terga inquired about his day.

“How did your evening go with Shesain?” Terga asked.

“How do you know about that?”

“She contacted me to remind you, in case you got too busy.”

“I never gave her your frequency. How did she get through?” His irritation was rising.

“I don’t know. You have a level one subspace vid-com coming in from admiral Morton,” Terga informed him.

“Thanks, Terga, put it on my office screen.”

He’s got to be calling about Tark. Derak walked to his office and poured himself a stiff shot of ancient Jack Daniels. He dug it up on an early archeology expedition in the old United States. It was rare and next-to-impossible to find now. He hoarded it, but here was an occasion worthy of dipping into the rations.

The screen turned on to reveal admiral Morton with his veins popping out of his neck. He stood five foot ten inches tall, with a small paunch at his belt line. He had an ordinary face with a receding hairline that he kept closely cropped.

A permanent scowl was etched on his stone-like face. When he was angry, his lips disappeared completely, turning into a thin line. He more than made up for his size by the forcefulness of his demeanor.

“Captain Jamar! What right do you have to keep me waiting?”

“I just got back from a long meeting with the Thumarian ambassador.”

“That’s no excuse, Captain!”

“Why don’t you tell her that, Admiral?”

He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. Then, he sat down behind his very large desk and faced Derak again, his lips forming that line. “Lieutenant Commander Tark informed me of your rude treatment of him in your office. He represents my full authority.”

“To begin with…”

“Shut up, Captain! I’m not finished yet! Tark represents my authority as his own. You need to remember your chain of command, mister!”

Derak was starting to lose his cool. “Tark needs to…”

“Shut up, Captain! I’ll tell you when I want you to speak!”

“You did when you ordered my report, Sir!”

“Then give it to me. Your time is short.” He spat out.

“To begin with, Sir! He arrived unannounced by either sub-space or by contacting my office. I had a meeting with the Thumarian ambassador and an inspection of the orbital space docks. I cannot cancel my meetings on someone else’s whim.”

“On a whim, Captain!” The admiral retorted.

“That meeting took weeks to arrange. One doesn’t abruptly cancel a meeting with ambassadors. It would be seen as an insult and would be an inappropriate message to send to establish diplomatic relations. A “brush off,” due to the whim of a subordinate would not be taken lightly by this particular ambassador,” Derak tartly replied.

“Who is this ambassador?” He demanded.

“Shesain Andehar. She is the niece of the sitting Thumarian president.”

This threw him for a loop. He had to ponder the significance of the new information. “Perhaps you were correct, but your treatment of Tark is still inexcusable. You could have included him at the space docks, at the very least.”

“I needed to get him settled into his quarters first, and I didn’t have time to make the arrangements myself, with no warning of his arrival.”

“So you assigned him a Thumarian!” The disgust on his face was palpable.

“She was the only one who wasn’t busy with a task.”

“Tell me why you scared him so badly.”

“Because…” He’s an ass like you “… he breached protocol and got too personal with his insults.”

“What did he say?” Morton asked with a sardonic grin.

“He said, loud enough to hear, ‘Damn New Yorkers.’ We should have posted you on the rim.”

A quick smirk appeared and then disappeared just as fast. The Admiral’s next comment sent him over the edge. “Maybe he was right.”

Derak nearly spat out the drink of Jack Daniels he had just taken. “What? You disrespectful…” Morton stopped him before he could get “fat bastard,” out.

“Don’t get smart with me, Captain! On second thought, that’s not a bad idea,” he said with a smirk, as he took another sip of scotch, straight up. “One way or another, you have always been more trouble than you’re worth.” Admiral Morton threatened.

“You so much as raise a finger to remove me, I’ll put a scandal on your plate that you’ll never see the end of!”

“Captain Jamar, consider yourself...”

“Shut up, Admiral!”

Morton’s mouth dropped at the defiance. The veins on his neck bulged.

“This is not a threat, it’s a promise! I’ll reveal the locations of your illegal munitions factories to the ethics committee and you’ll be so deep in tax trouble, you’ll never find your way out. You know the rules about owning private companies that sell directly to the military. It would be embarrassing to be caught breaking your own regulations.” Derak wore a wicked grin.

Morton’s face turned white.

Derak continued with fervor. “Not only do I have the locations of all of your factories, but I also have your multiple bank accounts with the account numbers. They might even add credit laundering to your tax evasion charges, so much for the honorable Morton family name.”

Morton looked as pale as a ghost now, and it took a few moments before he spoke. “How…how…did you find…”

“That doesn’t matter! You can’t move your credits fast enough, because I’ll know where you moved them and will obtain the new account numbers with no problem. Now call off your bulldog and instruct him to behave, or I’ll call up his part in your side business faster than hyperspace.”

“You…you can’t…” Morton said in shock.

“Watch me!”

Morton was recovering from the initial shock. His neck and face turned bright red. He got out of his chair and stalked over to a wooden sculpture. “You son of a bitch, if I could get my hands on you right now…”

“You’d be dead in a second.”

He looked at Derak knowing he wouldn’t hesitate. Then he grabbed the sculpture and broke it into pieces. His anger still not sated, he returned to his chair and sat down, seething. His mouth line disappeared as he took a big drink of scotch. Then he cleared his throat and spoke with controlled rage.

“I’ll instruct Tark to keep it to business only and to stay out of your way.”

The vid screen went black. Derak finished his Jack Daniels with a satisfied smile, looking at the half full bottle. Damn good whiskey.