The Lost Stories: A Series of CoSmic Adventures

Lost Empire

Gathering my crew back to my ship was much harder than it should have been. If I was away on vacation and my boss was looking for me, I wouldn't answer my phone either, but really, I expected more from them.

Eventually I tracked them all down and we were ready to get underway.

“Neat mission, eh, Winston?” I said to my first officer, the next day. We were escorting the ship we'd captured back to Other Side space. Of course, we weren't sending it back with its original crew.

“I don't know, Captain.”

“What do you mean? It's brilliant. They were helping Dr.Evan defect to their side; well, if they want him so badly, we'll give him to them. Or at least, someone who looks just like him.”

“That's just it, Captain,” Winston-the-worrywart said. “What if they figure it out? This could escalate the war to disastrous proportions. We should have sent the ship and crew back, minus Dr.Evan. The ceasefire we have is tenuous at best, but it has averted immeasurable bloodshed in the last few months. Don't you think this could jeopardize all of that? I just can't escape the feeling that this is a dangerous game we're playing. We might not have that much to gain and we have so much to lose.”

I was accustomed to Winston's constant second-guessing, but this was getting to be too much. How could I work with a first officer whose main joy in life was spoiling any enthusiasm I cared to show? It all made me so mad I wanted to scream at him.

“You raise a very good point, Winston,” I said. “However, we have our orders and I intend to carry them out.”

“Of course, Captain. But it's not too—”

Whatever insolent phrase Winston was about to say never made it out of his mouth.

“Captain,” Nikki, my very beautiful and long-legged, although tragically not green-skinned, tactical officer said.

“Yes?” I said, turning my gaze—very happily—away from Winston and onto Nikki.

“We're being followed, sir. The ship just appeared on my screen, but it's gaining on us at an incredible rate.”

Despite his tendency toward worrywarting, Winston was good under pressure.

“Silent alert,” he said immediately. If I were stranded on a desert island and could only pick one person to be with me, Winston would be my last choice. But if I were stranded on a desert island and was being attacked by savages and had run out of food and could only pick one person and it couldn't be a woman, Winston would be close to the top of the list.

“What do you think, Winston?” I said, speaking low enough that only he could hear me.

“We're still too far away from Other Side space for this to be one of their ships,” he said, whispering back. Despite his words, Winston looked and sounded worried.

“We're a warship, Winston,” I said, trying to reassure him. “Or have you forgotten?” I turned to my tactical officer and said, “Nikki, what can you tell me about that ship?”

Nikki's slender fingers flew over her console. “It's a small ship, about the size of one of our scouts. I'm not reading any weapons systems, but the energy signature is unlike anything I've ever seen before. And it's almost on top of us.”

“Full alert,” I said.

“Captain,” Winston said. “I suggest we stay on silent alert.”

“Oh?”

“We don't know who or what is inside that ship. Maybe they've got hostile intentions, but maybe they don't. Going to full alert might send the wrong message.”

My security officer was waiting.

“Stay at silent alert.” Whispering, I said to Winston, “This flight plan you wrote—did you look into the systems we'd be going through?”

Winston nodded. “All of these systems are supposed to be uninhabited. We're in the”—he checked the console on his chair—“Stratocat system.” He paused again, pressing several contacts on the console. “There hasn't been a ship to fly through here in a hundred years. And that ship did so without incident.”

“We're being hailed, Captain,” my communications officer said.

“On screen.”

Nikki made an “aww” sound as the view on the mainscreen switched from a star field to a little man in a little chair. He looked like a human baby, complete with a bald head with tiny wisps of hair and several rolls under his dimpled chin.

The baby spoke gobbledygook until we could get the translator tuned correctly. Finally he said, “Can you hear me now?”

“My name is Captain James Kollins of the warship DeVille,” I said. “Identify yourself.”

“My name is Lon,” he said, sending shivers down my spine. “I come from a system not far from here; I am an emissary on a mission to find other civilizations.”

Despite the thoughts racing through my mind, I managed to keep my cool. “Yes, of course you are, Lon. And what is it you're supposed to do with these civilizations once you find them?”

The little baby looked surprised at the question, as if he didn't know what I was getting at. “Why, to form a relationship of course. We wish to exchange ideas, trade goods, share experiences, and learn from one another.”

“That sounds great,” I said, ignoring for the moment the indignity of a little baby lying to my face. “That's exactly what we want too. Are you authorized to provide me with the coordinates of your home-world?”

“Of course I am.” The baby pushed some buttons on his console; a moment later, my communications officer nodded. We had them.

“That's fantastic, Lon. We have to go now, because we're on an important mission. But I'm going to send one of our emissaries to your home-world, and we can negotiate a treaty and do all that other good stuff you talked about. Sound okay?”

“Yes!” the little baby said, almost jumping in his seat out of excitement. “I think this is the beginning of a great friendship.”

“Oh, me too,” I said, cutting the connection.

Winston turned to me. “This is incredible, Captain. We've discovered a new species and laid the foundation for a cultural exchange that will benefit both of our civilizations.”

“This is a greater opportunity than you think, Winston. Send the board a top-priority message.”

“Captain?”

“Tell them to assemble every fighting ship in the fleet.”

“I don't understand.”

“Tell them to descend on the coordinates we give them and obliterate Lon's homeworld before that evil civilization of his has the slightest chance to destroy us first.”

“What?” Winston said, his voice full of despair and confusion.

“Tell them,” I said, with a heavy sigh, “that we've engaged the lost empire of Baby Lon.”