The Broken Peace

He sat alone at the end of the bar facing the entrance to the establishment. The open windows allowed the ocean breeze to wash over the dozens of patrons, most dressed in swimwear or skimpy beach attire. It was late afternoon local time, and though it was not a weekend or any holiday, everyone seemed to be having a good time.

Of course, Pax Oceana was a planet you came to if you were looking for a good time. It was an open planet and welcoming to anyone who wanted to escape the politics of the galaxy. It was one of the few places that did not take sides in the conflicts that often embroiled the universe. The planet itself was home to several landmasses, more the size of large islands instead of continents found on most other planets. The resorts located in its tropical zones tended to be the most popular. Still, there were others in more temperate or even much colder climates for those seeking a different sort of vacation.

As he sat there, he caught the attention of a group of young women. One of them, a beautiful blonde wearing a bikini top and a wrap around her waist, gave him a long stare and a sly smile. He responded with a slight smile of his own and a head nod in acknowledgment. Too young for me, he thought but being polite never hurt. She was probably young enough to be his daughter if he chose to have any kids. He was nearly fifty, his light brown skin darkened by the sun. His shoulder-length, braided hair and scruffy beard made him look younger than he was. He was in great physical shape despite his age, which considering humans lived on average about 120 years, he was not even middle age.

He finished his drink and motioned for the bartender to bring him another one. A couple of years passed since he first arrived on Pax Oceana. The city of Seaside Villa was where he found himself these days. It was not the largest of the resort cities nor the most exclusive, but it suited him fine. Money was not an issue; he had amassed a large sum over the years but had little to spend it on. All of that changed right after he arrived on Pax Oceana. These days he mostly spent his time trying to blend in with the locals and the tourists. The quiet life was beginning to agree with him.

A slight commotion at the entrance caught his attention. At first, he could not see what was causing the loud protests from the owner, but when they came into view, his heart suddenly froze. A man in a grayish-green uniform came around the corner leading two men and a woman similarly dressed but armed with automatic rifles, searching faces at the bar. He knew the combat helmets the others wore had facial recognition software built into the faceplates covering their eyes. He also recognized their uniforms as those of the Spartiartes special forces, intelligence division, if he remembered correctly. So much for respecting the neutrality of Pax Oceana.

As discreetly as possible, he got up from the bar and made his way to the back exit. He opened the door just enough to catch a glimpse of two more Spartiartes standing outside, covering the doorway. He peered back to the bar and caught sight of the young woman who smiled at him, pointing in the direction of the back exit. The Sparitartes began moving quickly toward him. I should have known better than to be suckered in by a pretty face; he thought as he tried to form a plan to escape.

He decided it was better if he tried his luck with the two outside. With the element of surprise, he might even get lucky enough to make it out alive. Taking a deep breath, he counted to three and flung open the door. Luck was with him as he startled the two Sparitartes tackling one and leg-whipping the other one. He knocked out the one he attacked and then turned to the other as he tried to get to his feet. A swift kick to his head put the man out of action. He was starting to feel good about his chances of escape until he noticed two others rushing to help their friends.

It turned out the reinforcements were unnecessary as he heard the clicking of automatic weapons behind him and the call to freeze. Slowly he put his hands in the air and stood to his feet. One of the men behind him bound his hands behind his back. “We got him,” one said into the built-in communication array in their helmet.

A couple of minutes later, the blonde woman from the bar walked toward them, leading four uniformed Sparitartes. Calmly he remarked to her, “You must be desperate if you’re willing to violate a long-standing neutrality and kidnap someone in broad daylight.”

The blonde-haired woman’s smile returned to her face. This time it did not have that flirtatious vibe, more like a cat that cornered a mouse. “It’s an honor to meet you, at last, Admiral Tasso. Take him.” With that, the soldiers forced their way through the forming crowd.

The group headed to a nearby plaza as a landing craft began its descent. The vessel lowered its rear ramp, and the entire group went aboard the ship. Before Tasso could seat himself, the craft lifted skyward.

Within minutes the small craft broke through the atmosphere and set a course to a larger, sharply angular ship.

About ten minutes later, the shuttle docked with the ship without a jolt. The ramp lowered again, revealing the bustle of activity in the landing bay. The soldiers to his right and left pulled him to his feet. The blonde woman joined them, this time dressed in a long gray-green dress coat with the rank of a captain in the Sparitartes intelligence service known as the Krypteia.

“Let me guess, follow you to the interrogation chamber?”

The sly smile returned to her face again. “I’m sorry, the ship tour ends here,” she said as she produced a small device from a coat pocket. She slammed the device hard against his chest, and the resulting surge of electricity caused him to lose consciousness and fall to the floor with a thud. “Take him to the holding area, and make sure he’s comfortable enough for the trip.”