High atop the city of Utopia in the majestic capital building an old white haired man was looking out one of its large windows. Sharmov furrowed his yellow wrinkled brow as he looked down on the city and wondered just how well his people were doing. Finally he let out a long sigh and turned away from the window and faced his humble living quarters. His main living room was small and had only a few sparse furnishings. The walls were a warm cream color and glowed slightly giving the room its indirect lighting. There was a small bedroom, bathroom and kitchen adjacent to this room. Having been a bachelor for many years now he no longer required a large home. It was the smallest suite available for council use. Most of the other members preferred much more luxurious accommodations, even though they did not live on Earth full time like Sharmov. “Activate channel B one eight three four, main viewer,” said Sharmov to the room. “Yes sir,” said a soft warm disembodied feminine voice. A screen of light near a far wall appeared from nowhere showing a handsome man and gorgeous woman going over the news. The man was heard in mid sentence saying, “… has caused a number of shortages since the forming of the alliance. Many feel that this alliance has been detrimental to the Terron kingdom. This is just one more example of the short comings as they continue to come from the Council. There is also talk about extending the required two years of draft service to three because of the short falls in…” “Crap and more political crap. Those fools just don't understand what's at stake,” Sharmov interrupted. “Let see channel N two three four nine.” The image changed to show a very old movie. It depicted two crewmen discussing options as their small spacecraft is being attacked. Just like before the sound for the images seemed to be coming from the screen itself. “They are still coming at us from all sides!” said one of them at the ships controls. The other one stood behind him and replied, “I don't know how long we can last, damn those pirates.” As Sharmov walked around the room the screen constantly adjusted itself to stay directly in his eye sight. Even when he walked closer to the wall its size shrunk so most of the screen could remain in his field of view. The scene changes and he sees three larger space ships firing on the small one. Suddenly from no where several blasts hit one of the pirate ships and it explodes. Quickly the other two pirate vessels scatter. Then the silhouette of a larger space craft looms over the small two man ship that was being attacked. Again the scene changes back to the crew inside the small craft. A transmission cracks over their radio and says, “This is the destroyer T.S. Nemo. I'm Captain Maro Keel, are you guys ok?” “Hum,” Sharmov said with a smirk, “I'm not interested in looking at a documentary right now, go to personal storage files. Pull C one two five six.” The image of a very primitive flat two dimensional cartoon formed on the screen showing an animated rabbit talking to a big headed hunter. “Ah there we go,” said Sharmov as he walked into the bedroom and lay on the bed. The image followed him and was now on the ceiling above him. Sharmov looked up and saw the rabbit give the hunter a big kiss on the forehead then the hunter started to chase the rabbit. Sharmov rolled over on his side and he shut his eyes. The sound dropped and the screen displayed a timer in its upper right corner and it ticked down to zero. Every time Sharmov reopened his eyes the timer automatically reset itself. After a few minutes Sharmov was sound asleep. After a few more minutes the timer reached zero and the screen disappeared. Sharmov softly snored on his bed for a few moments before a bell noise interrupted his sleep. It took several rings before he rose off the bed and grumbled, “This better be important.” The warm lady computer voice replied, “Yes, according to your preset requirements…” “Yeah, what ever, what is it?” Sharmov interrupted and headed for the living room. “You have a call from Omal's Vice Chancellor Tyu,” replied the lady's voice. “What? What does that bum want from me now?” Sharmov said yawning as he flopped on a chair in his living room. “Unknown sir, shall I patch him through?” “Sure, give me full two way video,” said Sharmov with a grin. A flat screen of light appeared in front of Sharmov. At first it was a field of snow then quickly changed to a sharp crisp picture of a short white bearded gentleman with pale skin, yellow eyes, and gray hair. “To what do I owe this harassment Vice Chancellor Tyu?” Sharmov quickly snapped. “Nice to see you too you old Fart,” Tyu retorted. With that Sharmov let out a loud belly laugh and Tyu soon joined in. Seeing Sharmovs disheveled appearance Tyu asked, “Did I wake you up Mike? It's got to be noon earth side. That's the middle of the day.” “I know Chang, it's the first day I've had off in a long time. I've been so busy with keeping this alliance together and bolstering the Terron peoples resolve I just don't get much sleep now days,” explained Sharmov. “Yes, the Empire keeps us all on our toes. It's very different from the old days when we were both in the ambassadors' core,” Tyu reminisced. “Ah yes, things were a bit wilder in those days,” said Sharmov as he fondly began to remember. “It's funny you don't think your getting old until the first time you start talking about the old days.” “Too true, it's also interesting that the only thing back then that got us together was to fight pirates and organized crime,” said Tyu. “Ironic that the things that upset the security of the sovereign kingdoms also helped bring us together,” stated Sharmov. “We went from meeting on old dirty military vessels and eating rations to planetary mansions and fine cuisine,” Tyu added while stroking on his white beard. “For a while at least, so what happened? All the kingdoms were getting along so well.” Sharmov asked. “I guess we were too successful. We took care of all our joint concerns and didn't need each other anymore. Our ambassador duties became less and less important. It turned into casual contact and trading discussions,” said Tyu. Sharmov added, “As time went on I tried my best to keep in touch with as many as possible, but…” “Remember good old Jill Johnson of the Meant Kingdom?” asked Tyu interrupting. “Oh my yes, she was very attractive,” Sharmov said with a smile. “What ever became of her?” Tyu wondered. “She seemed to disappear right around the time the Empire was formed,” “I don't know. It's very odd indeed. Many odd things began to happen when the Empire formed,” Sharmov said staring off into space. Breaking Sharmov from his trance Tyu said, “It's been too long my old friend. I'm sorry I haven't called you in a while.” “Yes it has. It's funny you should call Tyu. I am planning on proposing to the alliance the entry of the kingdom of Omal. I think this will…” “No, I'm afraid that will not do,” Tyu bluntly interrupted. “Wha… What do you mean?” Sharmov said shocked. “Is this a secure line?” Tyu asked. Sharmov replied, “Yes, its standard security protocol…” “Switch to encryption code three B seven,” Tyu interrupted again. With a smile Sharmov said, “All right then.” Tyu's floating image dissolved into a fuzz of snow and numbers. “Set for deep encryption code Tyu one,” Sharmov told the computer. “Yes sir, encryption code loaded,” the disembodied woman's voice said. “Reactivate communication link,” Sharmov said to the voice. “Signal active, encryption accepted,” replied the computer. Tyu's image emerged into sharp clarity on the screen once again. “You know we only ever had the one encryption code Tyu.” “I know that and you do, but it will help to confuse anyone monitoring us, especially if they managed to get our one and only code,” insisted Tyu. Sharmov nodded his head in agreement and said, “You have a point, but who would be interested in the ramblings of two old...” Tyu interrupted, “It would not be wise to include Omal in the alliance.” “Why?” asked Sharmov. “I'm afraid our Chancellor may have been… compromised,” Tyu replied. “Compromised, by who?” again Sharmov asked. Tyu coldly replied, “Not by who my old friend, but by what.”  ©Lee Crystal's Outpost 13 All rights reserved