Measure of Dissent: The Torian Reclamation, #4

By Andy Kasch

A fool assumes his allies are immune to treason's seduction
 
Three years after the first Ossurian War, the Erobian Alliance begins to fracture when one of its most powerful members commits baffling acts of dissention. In an attempt to diffuse a precarious hostage situation, the Torian High General turns to his most effective tool: the prominent Earthling Brandon Foss. Brandon is reluctantly thrust into a high stakes game of interstellar diplomacy which tests his gamesmanship as well as his battle skills in an effort to prevent an all-out war between three star systems. But he may already be too late.
 
Unfortunately, far-off star systems aren't the only place where the flames of discord are kindled. The twin planets of Tora enter into a decisive struggle as Belle-ub, the red Sheen leader who has usurped control of Amulen, shows his true colors in an attempt to take over Banor as well. Few see him for the threat he actually is. A violent struggle between the two Sheen factions ensues, which inadvertently entangles Derek—a man only trying to return to his hippie roots—who must now face his own defining test of character.
 
All the while, something mysterious begins happening to the Torian humans. Something that might even explain much of the burgeoning strife in the Erobian Sphere. Consequently, their list of enemies begins to grow. It's a shame the only ones who don't seem to know about it are the humans…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Andy Kasch
• Release date: Nov 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215788097

Book preview

Babul Star System, Torian Year 5359

The lone ship discovered drifting in Babulian space was too small to become overly concerned about. For exactly that reason, newly-appointed Fleet Admiral K.ZZ Karabel became highly concerned.

I don’t share your sentiments, Fleet Admiral. Rear Admiral Abegno was respectful in his tone, though Karabel knew he still held doubts over his new commander’s abilities.

One could hardly blame him. Karabel showed himself to be an exceptional diplomat on many prior occasions, but military leadership was a new proving ground. He knew he would have to earn the respect of the veteran officers directly beneath him. For now, they all acted as if they fully expected the new fleet admiral to indiscriminately comply with their every suggestion.

They were going to be soberly disappointed.

Even if this is a malicious intrusion, Admiral Abegno continued, the vessel is simply too small to be wielding any appreciable destructive power.

At that moment, the tiny alien ship flashed in a bright quasar of white light.

Fleet Admiral! the chief navigator called out. The rest of the bridge went silent.

I see it, Karabel said.

Are they distorting away? Abegno mumbled.

A few minutes passed as they watched. The lack of a torus-shaped ring around the outside of the alien vessel indicated it used virtual distortion-drive technology, which meant it could land on any surface, including transport ship hangar decks. But when the quasar faded, the ship was still there.

Apparently not, Karabel answered. He turned and shouted to the senior physicist. What about our scans?

The senior physicist delayed his response, hurrying to gather the last of the data from his readouts. Admiral Abegno’s body language displayed a growing impatience. Karabel stood calmly.

The flash doesn’t appear to have been anything more than light, the senior physicist finally replied. And I can now confirm there is only one life form aboard the vessel.

No crew? Abegno said. How can that be?

Karabel left his side and stepped down to the lower portion of the bridge, uncurling his tail in the process to steady himself. That old injury in his right leg only really bothered him on steps.

Still no broadcasts, the communications officer reported, accurately anticipating Karabel’s next question. And they’re not responding to our hails.

Karabel nodded when the communications officer looked up. He liked this one. Good at his job, and one of two Sazzi officers on the command ship. Karabel worked with Sazzis in the past, and always found them diligent. Being a minority group, they tended to work harder, probably because they felt they had something to prove.

Karabel never understood why. Should having hair on the left side of your body, rather than the right, make any difference in one’s capabilities? But some still held to these primitive prejudices, even now, more than 2,000 years since the interstellar age began. He strongly suspected Admiral Abegno of being one of them, especially since he made no effort to conceal his contempt for the Babulian half-breed race.

Karabel turned back to face Abegno and raised his voice.

Size can be a misleading basis for gauging a potential threat, Admiral. If you ever encountered a viperworm, you’d know that. Karabel rubbed his leg.

Admiral Abegno frowned. Commander, I’m fully aware—

And there are reports from the center of the sphere of an unknown weapon of mass destruction capable of wiping out entire fleets, which can be wielded from small vessels—perhaps no larger than this one.

Unsubstantiated rumors, Abegno said. Started and maintained by the founding members of the Erobian Alliance as a fear control mechanism, most likely. I do not challenge the wisdom of such a ploy. But the weapon’s actual existence is questionable.

Karabel stepped back to the upper platform. Tell me, Admiral, what are your personal thoughts on accepting the invitation to join the alliance?

 I believe it’s an unprofitable trade-off for Babul. Abegno snorted before elaborating. Such an alliance makes sense for those in the center of the sphere, and even for those on the inner edge, where foreign threats have recently revealed themselves. But out here on the fringe of the galaxy, we stand to receive little benefit in return for committing our precious resources of ships and crews. It’s better for Babul, in my opinion, to look after our own affairs.

I appreciate your candor, Admiral. Karabel pointed a thumb to the main screen behind him. We’ve tolerated this situation long enough. Tow that thing into our primary hanger and let’s open her up.

Aboard …our ship?

Yes.

Commander, I see that as an unnecessary risk.

I thought you didn’t believe in the ‘light weapon’ rumors. Bring it here, Admiral. Leaders must show courage if they are to earn the blind loyalty of their soldiers.

Abegno begrudgingly issued the orders. The bridge crew watched as an asteroid mining craft responded, escorted by a squadron of fighters. The mining craft established a position in front of the intruder and attached a tractor beam.

An hour later, the alien vessel was on board the Babulian command ship. Even before the hangar door was sealed, a team of ground soldiers, technicians, physicists, and medical personnel was sent to figure out how to open it.

It didn’t take long.

We have one fresh alien, alive and breathing, waiting for you in the medical center, the chief physician soon announced over the bridge intercom. Admiral Abegno began walking towards the lift.

Stay here, Admiral, Karabel said.

Abegno stopped in his tracks.

Karabel hit the intercom to the medical center. Put a camera on the alien and patch the image through to screen three on the bridge, Doctor.

Abegno rejoined Karabel on the center platform. He didn’t seem annoyed this time. Good. Maybe he was getting used to having a new superior.

The door to the lift opened on the bridge. Berosus, the scientist Karabel had reassigned to the command ship, emerged. Holding a cup of coffee, Berosus stumbled as he came forward, spilling some and making even more noise than usual.

Were you summoned? Abegno coldly asked Berosus.

Berosus turned around full circle, confused. His tail rattled, betraying a sudden nervousness.

Karabel chuckled. Berosus was a prodigy youth, fresh from the university, years in advance of his peers. He was so young he had yet to fully shed his rattle.

I …thought I was, sir, the boy responded.

He was, Karabel said to Abegno.

Video of the alien now on screen three, the communications officer announced.

Karabel turned back around.

The alien was small and white, with hair on the top portion of its head. Fully clothed, it stared blankly ahead, blinking occasionally.

Soft, weak-looking species, Abegno muttered.

Only on the outside, Berosus said, suddenly sounding confident.

Both admirals turned to him.

That’s a human, Berosus explained. Indigenous to a planet called Earth, located just beyond the outer edge of the sphere somewhere. An underdeveloped world.

Then what is one doing floating in a spacecraft in the Erobian Sphere? Abegno asked.

Tora, Berosus replied. He took a sip of coffee before seeming to realize both admirals were still staring at him expectantly.

He straightened up. There’s a small population of Earthlings at Tora—including a handful enlisted in their military. Some are reputed as being extraordinarily skilled pilots and soldiers.

Admiral! the chief navigator yelled.

Karabel spun back to face the main screen, correctly discerning the alarm in his navigator’s voice. A large fleet of alien transport ships was suddenly in the process of materializing directly ahead. Babul’s largest moon helped illuminate their oval hulls, providing a pale yellow backdrop on one side.

Identification! Karabel shouted. Scramble all fighters! And get the rest of our fleet here, fast!

Everyone on the bridge got busy with their jobs. Karabel noticed some of them fumbling, succumbing to the stress of their first ever real military situation. Abegno saw it, too, and reacted by walking around to individual stations giving direction where needed—but in a manner that was more pressuring than helpful.

Outside, dozens of intruding ships completed making their arrival in Babulian space. Most were larger transport vessels, but a smattering of interstellar fighters dotted the space between them. They came in facing Babul, a perpendicular position to the seven Babulian ships which happened to be already deployed responding to the small alien vessel discovered. For the moment, Karabel’s much smaller force had the intruders flanked.

Despite their numbers, the unexpected visitors didn’t necessarily look threatening—yet, anyway. This location might be intended as a staging area for a diplomatic mission; one where they also desired to make a show of force. Their transport ships were currently closing ranks to a tighter formation, and weren’t launching any conventional fighters.

Fleet Admiral, what position do you wish our I-fighters to take? the chief security officer queried.

Flank them on the opposite side, Karabel said. But have the rest of our fleet join us here. Any word on who they are?

Noors, the communications officer answered. They’re from Noor.

Positively confirmed? Abegno barked.

Not yet sir, but that’s how they’ve identified themselves. They see us here. We’ve received a hail requesting a video conference.

Karabel exchanged curious glances with Abegno before looking back at the screen. The Noor fleet turned to face them now, with one of the larger ships pulling in front.

Admiral Abegno rejoined Karabel on the upper platform. Karabel instructed the communications officer to begin the conference.

Screen two fizzled for a moment, but then came to life with a live shot of two aliens. Both stood in what was apparently a command area on the bridge of one of their ships, in similar fashion as the two Babulian admirals.

Those are Noors all right, Berosus commented from the side. Karabel almost forgot he was here.

Confirmed, the senior physicist added.

Yes Commander, one of the Noors said, having overheard them. We are from Noor. Please forgive our unannounced arrival. I assure you our intentions are peaceful. I am Fleet Commander Major General Sor It Va Cu Icenson. We thought we would be far enough away from your world here as to not appear hostile. To whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?

Admiral Abegno made a curt introduction while Karabel studied the Noors. They were medium-sized beings, slightly larger than Babulians, with no additional appendages other than the usual two arms and legs. The Noors wore sparse clothing around their mid-section and upper torsos. Everywhere else their dark green skin was exposed, which appeared thick if not necessarily tough. No hair. Their heads had a square shape, as did their shoulders. Eyes, ears, mouths, and noses were all proportional, though their facial features were a lighter shade of green than their torsos.

We’re pursuing a small craft, the Noor commander explained, with a single alien on board. We’re fairly confident it came to your system, and offer our apologies for this. Have you encountered it?

Karabel thought for a second before responding.

Major General … Icenson, is it?

Yes.

Why does an entire Noor fleet chase a single human in an unarmed vessel halfway across the sphere?

Then you’ve received him? was all the Noor commander replied.

Yes. Karabel eyed screen three, where the physicians were now conducting various tests on the Earthling. We’ve received him. He’s safe on board one of our transport ships, currently undergoing a medical examination.

You mustn’t do that! the Noor commander said. This alien is in a chemically unstable condition, and possibly presents a threat to your safety. We respectfully request you return him to us immediately. Then we’ll be on our way.

Return him to you? Karbel asked. With all due respect, what business does Noor have with a member of this underdeveloped race? Aren’t all Erobian Sphere humans residents of Tora?

The two Noor commanders looked at each other before replying. They obviously weren’t expecting Babulians to know anything about the alien. Karabel quickly spoke again.

Major General Icenson, please stand by. He walked off the platform and signaled the communications officer with his left hand. Pause the conference, please.

Screen two froze.

Karabel hit the intercom for the medical center. Doctor, what’s the status of the alien?

Fascinating, the physician’s excited voice answered. The subject is delusional. He knows his name, but nothing else—such as why he’s here, or where he has been.

Why is that fascinating?

The subject is emitting unusual amounts of energy, Fleet Admiral. Mostly low-frequency electromagnetic pulses, but in gigantic wave formations. I’ve never seen anything like it.

Thanks, Doctor.

I don’t like it, Abegno said when Karabel released the intercom button. This alien could be harboring an unknown weapon.

Karabel turned to his favorite scientist. Your opinion, Berosus?

I’d keep him a while for further examination, sir. Berosus remained calm and even took a sip of coffee as he spoke. Something’s not right about Noors chasing down a member of a Torian minority race. And I’d like to get a chance to study those energy waves the physicians are picking up.

How’d humans get to be on Tora? Karabel asked.

I’ve read different explanations for that, Admiral. The one with the highest probability of being correct is they bred there, after a smaller size group was abducted from their home planet as part of a space exploration program.

He could also be a spy, Abegno said.

Karabel chuckled and rejoined Abegno on the upper platform. Before he gave the order to reconnect the video conference, he took another look at the odd alien on screen three. This time, something about the Earthling captured his interest. Karabel couldn’t explain it, but he didn’t want to let him go.

All right, resume the conference.

When the image unfroze it caught the Noor commanders in the middle of what appeared to be a heated exchange. But their words were not complete enough for the Babulian translation devices to decipher before the Noors noticed the video feed was live again.

Will you be delivering the alien to us? Major General Icenson eagerly asked. Or would you prefer we send a small team over to retrieve him?

The human is not coherent, Major General. Moreover, he seems to be ensconced by an unknown energy field, which concerns us. Our scientists wish to study him. And we are lacking clarification as to exactly why he came to our system. I tend to agree with my command team that an explanation from the human himself is desirable.

He’s not here as a spy, the Noor commander shot back. He’s nothing more than a wayward alien who wandered too far from home. And you won’t get anything out of him. His condition is the result of radiation experiments gone awry, which is why the best thing is to simply return him to us. Our scientists need to finish their own studies on this human. That’s all I can tell you at the moment, but we are willing to have all the data sent to you when the process is complete, if you so desire.

Karabel cocked his head. You came here with a full fleet chasing one ‘wayward alien’ who had been undergoing radiation exposure tests? Those must have been some very interesting experiments, Major General.

At that moment, several squadrons of Babulian interstellar fighters materialized directly behind the Noor fleet. The Noors distracted their commander from the conference with the news of it. As his bridge crew updated him on the changing military status, more triangular-shaped Babulian I-fighters hit the field, distorting in on all sides of the Noors. Karabel thought they came in a little too close to appear strictly defensive. In the distance, coming from Babul, conventional fighters could now be seen filling space like swarms of angry wasps. They would be here in a matter of minutes.

The Noors began launching their own fighters in response. Their design was distinct with three engine pods, one on each side of the cockpit and one above it. It was easy to see that what they lacked in maneuverability they made up for in speed.

Icenson finally turned back to the conference. We do not wish for a confrontation! Please remember, Fleet Admiral Karabel, you have but to utter the words which will make your world and ours sworn allies.

Karabel raised his voice and walked in a circle. Do you speak for the Erobian Alliance, then, in your demand for deliverance of the human?

No. This is strictly a Noor affair. Something suddenly changed in Icenson’s tone, which was noteworthy. He seemed to become tense at the mention of the Erobian Alliance.

The chief navigator below spoke. Admiral, three new vessels just arrived on the port side. Not Noor. They look …Torian.

Confirmed, the communications officer said. One Torian transport ship escorted by two interstellar fighters. They’re asking us for an explanation on what’s happening here, Fleet Admiral.

Tell them we’ll relay that information as soon as we figure it out ourselves.

Tense seconds ticked away while the Noor commanders reacted to the Torian arrival. They didn’t bother pausing the video conference, but probably should have. Hushed words were exchanged and animated orders issued. They were not happy about the development.

Meanwhile, the Noor fleet continued deploying their fighters as the Babulian forces amassed. An additional three dozen transport ships now supported Karabel’s command ship, all of which also got busy launching fighters.

The communications officer spoke again. Fleet Admiral, the Torian ship is asking if we’ve encountered a small craft with a human aboard.

Karabel exchanged amused looks with his second in command before answering, knowing full well the Noor commanders could still hear him.

Tell them yes. The small craft and the human are both safely in our care.

Karabel turned back to screen three where the physicians were proceeding with their tests on the human, now placing circular light fields in front of him. The human was responding to instructions, reaching out and touching the light fields, then touching them again after they vanished and reappeared in a new place. But he still looked confused.

On the main screen, a squadron of Noor fighters broke away and approached the Torian vessels. They moved too fast to be on a diplomatic mission.

One of the Torian I-fighters lit up its dag and vanished. The other held its position.

I’ll bet that one’s going home to report, Abegno said.

Screen two showed the Noor commanders barking new commands. The Noor fighters on the main screen then broke off their approach on the Torian ships and returned to the Noor formation.

Several minutes passed.

Karabel turned to Abegno. I believe you’re correct, Admiral. Very good analysis.

Sirs, the communications officer said. The Torians are asking us to surrender the human and his vessel over to them.

Karabel glanced at Admiral Abegno and then back at screen three before making a quick decision.

Tell them no.

Amulen C3 Central Valley, Tora Star System

Chapter One

Let him in, Belle-ub said.

Cime-jez hesitated. Don’t you want to watch the match? he asked. He surely expects to have to wait. I’m surprised you don’t outright refuse him. Showing up now and requesting an audience with you is brazen and absurd.

Belle-ub half smiled. You were one of them once. You know how the Sheen operate.

All the more reason to refuse him. Cime-jez glanced out to the terrace. I do know how they operate. If he comes here today, it can only be with the intent of provoking a confrontation.

Belle-ub frowned and nodded. But then he smiled again. Did he call you by your old name?

Cime-jez cocked his head. Yes.

What was it again?

Simin3.

Cime-jez realized his response was timid. Extat. He would never be promoted to Belle-ub’s right hand displaying such a pitiful lack of confidence.

Belle-ub, mercifully, didn’t react to it. He merely climbed to the top step at the far side of the room, fit his red cloak over his head, and settled into his lavish seat.

Send him in. And leave us alone, please.

Alone? That was odd. Belle-ub rarely saw anyone alone. Cime-jez always sat on his left, with Dan-rar on his right, during meetings—even those of the highest security.

Cime-jez pulled his own red hood on, bowed, and left the council room.

Out on the terrace, most of the privileged guests were squeezed together at the railing watching the final match—all except Dan-rar and the Sheen visitor. Those two stood to one side and patiently waited for Cime-jez to either admit or refuse the Sheen to the council room.

The crowd noise engulfed the stadium in its own extraordinary thunder. Different races had different ways of cheering. Some made high pitched screams, others low frequency booming sounds, and everything in between.

The Callians were unique in that they exercised an impressive degree of spectator restraint. They would stand in unison, turn their blinking-helmet covered heads to one side and clap before calmly sitting again. Some would probably find their self-control improper, seeing as their champion was once again a finalist and now in the process of defending his title.

A sudden uproar prompted Cime-jez to peer out onto the field. The two final players moved their chairs about via the mechanical arms, placing the oversized game pieces in the giant square magnetic field. The Callian was the curved pieces this time. This is what they all came to see. Races from all over the Erobian Sphere were here to witness the Eighth Annual Amulen Polwar Tournament, and they were getting their money’s worth.

Cime-jez turned back to the side, where the sight of the two contrasting Sheen struck him in a peculiar way. He almost did a double take, not understanding why. Madkin5, the sachem of the Landen Sheen colony on Continent-5, wore the traditional gray cloak. His skin shone brightly from his hands and face, even in the late afternoon sunlight—especially when standing next to Dan-rar.

It had been years since Cime-jez was last in the company of an orthodox Sheen. Most of those from Continent-3 had long since either converted to the Belle clan or moved away from the great central valley. While there was no official hostility between the Belle Sheen and the orthodox, a rift undeniably existed between the two orders.

Cime-jez sensed it was about to become wider.

The brightness of Madkin5’s skin was startling. Yes, Cime-jez was aware of the gradual dulling of his skin over the past few years. They all were. But the Belle Sheen assumed it was attributable to the changing atmospheric conditions on Amulen, the same environmental issue which caused the last Earthlings to move to Banor eight years ago. To see an Amulite Sheen still shining so brightly was an abrupt disillusion. Cime-jez sought an explanation. He approached Dan-rar and Madkin5.

Tell me, Madkin5, have the Landen Sheen developed an innovative means of skin protection?

Madkin5 slowly shook his head in response. Simin3, Simin3.

My name is Cime-jez now. Please don’t call me that.

The light of your being dims in concurrence with the dimming of your heart. Madkin5 looked back and forth between Dan-rar and Cime-jez. All of you. When you allow yourselves to be seduced away from truth, and make the lusts of carnality your master, your light fades, until it is eventually snuffed out. Then you are no longer of Erob heritage.

Cime-jez experienced a strange reaction to Madkin5’s denunciation. He found himself tempted to shout harsh words, and even entertained thoughts of raising a hand in violence. He never felt true anger before. This was so new he wasn’t sure of the correct procedure for expressing it. So he simply motioned with his head towards the council room door and spoke through gritted teeth.

The master will see you now. Alone.

He is indeed a master; a master of deceit and covetousness. Which means these traits have become your masters as well, Simin3. Along with other manifestations of the flesh, such as wrath. Even now you battle these primordial emotions not fitting for a child of light. It is a fight you will, unfortunately, lose. Madkin5 bowed.

Cime-jez discovered he was unable to return the salutation, and, in fact, struggled to step out of his way. Madkin5 gently pushed him as he moved past, further fanning the flames of resentment.

As soon as the council room doors consumed the visitor, Dan-rar spoke.

You’re angry?

Yes.

Interesting.

Cime-jez focused on his contemporary, a person who was, from all outward appearances, his only friend. But that was also changing as Cime-jez had recently come to desire his position.

Have you ever been angry? Cime-jez asked.

Dan-rar nodded. Yes. As of late, those kinds of moments have occasionally displaced my thoughts. But rather than discuss the matter, he unceremoniously walked towards the railing to watch the match, leaving Cime-jez to guard the council room door alone.

Cime-jez peered through the window to see Madkin5 exchange greetings with Belle-ub. Their actions were formal, lacking any flicker of warmth. He understood Madkin5 was not here to pursue friendly relations, and would likely rebuke Belle-ub as he had Cime-jez, probably even more so.

That would make him an open enemy of Belle-ub, and, consequently, all the Belle Sheen. Belle-ub didn’t need domestic enemies, especially now. No doubt that’s why he agreed to see him.

Cime-jez wasn’t sure what would come of it. He