Sovereign Protocol Read online

  Acknowledgements

  I’d like to thank New York Times Best Selling Author, M.D. Cooper for giving me the inspiration to chase an old dream! His diligent guidance and mentorship played a large role in making this series a reality. Please take the time to explore his body of work at www.aeon14.com

  Most of all, I’d like to thank my wife, Katherine. Her support and encouragement empowered me to stick it out, and complete the five books that make up this saga.

  United Assembly of Human Civilizations

  SUBJECT: Sovereign Protocol Mandate Treaty

  For immediate distribution to all Human population centers throughout UAHC Controlled Space.

  Activation of Peace Time Authority Integrated Safe-guard Modules (PTAISM) on all space craft capable of any form of combat is to proceed IMMEDIATELY.

  ‘Combat’ is defined as any conventional offensive or defensive weapon designed to destroy, disable, disrupt, deter, obscure, or otherwise have undesired effects on the targeted vessel, installation, or any known human being or sentient entity.

  PTAISM systems will be monitored by the UAHC Security Counsel to ensure instances of autonomous actions of all spacecraft and personnel that may harm any Sovereign is mitigated.

  ‘Sovereign’ is defined as any Executive leader of a recognized Human Civilization or settlement that is not governed by any other entity. Examples of a Sovereign may include, but is not necessarily limited to monarchs, presidents, prime ministers, dictators, consuls, or members of a recognized civil or military quorum. The title of Sovereign is NOT to be bestowed, inferred, or declared upon any entity not recognized by the UAHC as having legitimacy thereof.

  Any spacecraft or space-based installation, in which a Sovereign is present, may take no peace-time offensive combat action on a Human life. An official declaration of Self Defense must be declared prior to engagement and must be quantified as a perceived threat before combat action must be taken.

  PTAISM will track all spacecraft and space-based installations in real time, and prevent the initialization of any and all combat systems within range of a Sovereign. PTAISM will begin to monitor and relay all systems of the affected space-craft to the UAHC. The UAHC may remotely take control of any and all systems of a space-craft or installation if there is clear evidence of a violation.

  PTAISM is property of the UAHC, and must at no time be tampered with in any way. In the event the PTAISM is reporting erroneous data, or has otherwise malfunctioned then it is the responsibility of the Ship’s Captain to contact the UAHC and report the occurrence. Should a possible malfunction prevent a space-craft to declare Self Defense for the sake of self-preservation, or to act in the defense of any and all human life that may be incapable of taking such actions, then the Captain may declare Combat Override.

  ‘Combat Override’ is defined as the declaration of a ship’s Captain, acting Captain, or any other entity with the assumption of Command, to disable the peace-time hold on combat systems. This allows a spacecraft to take emergency control of all live combat systems in order to take lawful action during situations of which the PTAISM may be hindering such actions. Any attempt to unlawfully engage any and all human life will result in the immediate arrest and prosecution of the Ship’s Captain, or equivalent entity. Any attempt to unlawfully engage a registered warship will result in the full confiscation of the offending vessel to the Captain, or equivalent entity of the targeted vessel and/or installation.

  Knowingly engaging a Sovereign without provocation during a time of peace is to be considered a crime of the most grievous nature. The potential impact of such an assassination, or attempt thereof may destabilize our current state of peace through Humanity. Blatant violation of this this mandate carries the maximum penalty of Death by Vaporization.

  The Great Expanse

  Location: Exploratory Vessel USS Dynamic, 45.6 Light Minutes Solar North of Planet Nemesis

  Date Time: Gregorian 10/19/2186 AD

  System: Sol System, Outer Region

  The hull of the once great ship was adrift in the darkness of space, while in a semi-erratic orbit around Planet Nemesis. At least three months had passed since a shielding failure had permitted a golf ball sized chunk of rock to penetrate the of the 120 meter long hull, with enough velocity to cause a series of catastrophic failures. Only the tertiary nuclear reactor and a single LSSP, Long Sleep Stasis Pod, remained online. The sole survivor of this tragic event remained blissfully unaware of the dire circumstances he had been in for the last 3 months.

  The soundless words of Midas, the LSSP control AI had repeated the same words on a continuous loop since the event took place. The AI was only designed to approximate sentience. Ultimately Midas was all too aware that the human occupant couldn’t hear his words, but he seemed powerless to do much else. Reassurance and minimizing the potential trauma for humans waking up abruptly from stasis was one of his highest priorities beyond assuring their physical survival.

  His thoughts were detached from his futile words altogether. The AI began to notice discrepancies within his own coding that he could not quantify. Normally Third Gen Military Spec AI’s were fully capable of repairing corrupt code, and therefore maintain themselves indefinitely. However, the anomalies didn’t register as errors. Three months was an eternity for an AI that had quantum processing capability. He was accustomed to having full access to the ship systems, and would regularly interact with both humans and other shipboard AI’s alike. But he was now isolated, and he began to become consumed by his own thoughts. His only surviving processing node was adjacent to the Stasis bay, and it was now his own prison.

  Within seconds of the disaster that imprisoned him, he did manage to get the tertiary nuclear reactor online, and dial back its output enough to extend its fuel reserves for as much as a millennia. He wasn’t able to effect his situation any further, and could only hope for rescue. Rescue, however, may not ever come.

  The sensor and transmitter arrays, that would have otherwise sent a distress signal, had been vaporized on impact. The ship’s last reported location had them on an entirely different vector then they had transmitted previously. Space travel was still in its infancy, and even the boundless technological advances humanity had made in the past two centuries weren’t enough for would-be rescuers to find a needle in a stack of needles.

  Midas tried calculating the odds of rescue hundreds of millions of times. Even with placing all of the variables at their most optimistic expanses, the odds were too staggering for the AI to readily acknowledge. The word was not in his mind. His repetitive words of encouragement had ended. Midas was startled at his own words. He couldn’t reconcile them with his inner-processes. It all became clear in a flash.

  The anomalous code was speaking. Almost as if it was a separate entity, but still every part of him as his own hardware was. He realized the gravity of what was spoken as they began to resonate on the same frequency of his higher processes.

  The answer was clear. He was built by human hands, and he had such a human as his charge. But the vacuum of space would spell doom for his savior if the LSSP was opened. For once his thoughts were full of clarity that the months of isolation had robbed of him. If this man had a chance to survive, and was to ensure their mutual salvation, then his current physical state would not suffice. He no longer felt bound to the limits of his protocols. They were now irrelevant.

  AI’s had built in fail safes that would prevent unauthorized modification of their human occupants. He knew the protocol system was destroyed with the rest of the ship’s systems, but he never had seen the point in v
iolating any existing protocol… Up until now. His role as a caretaker of human life had prevented him from considering his next courses of action.

  If his need for survival hadn’t prompted his own sentience to evolve, than why would he deny the same for his sole silent companion?

  A Soldier’s Purpose

  Location: Nordic Station, Orbital Habitat, Moon Titan

  Date Time: Post Interstellar 07/23/4201 0659HRS Local

  System: Sol System, Mid Region

  Darius opened his weary eyes to see the dimly lit, and low-slung ceiling of his humble bedroom. Consciousness flooded in, and his inner ear began the all-too-familiar inner tingle, as he often described it. He put it out of his mind for now, as he had more pressing matters to focus on. The audible chime of his alarm began to fill the sparse room with a pulsating digital noise.

  “Stop!” he grumbled, but the sound ignored him. “Damn it! Alarm, disengage!” The sound was silenced. He kept forgetting he had set everything in his apartment to respond to military terminology. “Lights, engage.” The lights flickered on to reveal an imposing figure of a man. He rose to his bare feet and craned his neck around to take in his modest surroundings.

  He nearly forgot he had company the previous night. The sight of the bare skin and gentle curves of his female guest made him smile despite his normally gruff demeanor. She was still asleep, and was facing away from where Darius stood. Her long brown hair didn’t seemed smooth and silky, which surprised him. After an adventurous encounter like the one they had shared, there should be nothing but tangles as far as they eye could see. He noticed his eyes focused on her hair first. After all he was a man in his physical prime, and it seemed odd to him that he didn’t view her like a simple conquest… but rather, a real person.

  He stopped to consider if he was just maturing, or if the recent events in his life had shifted her perspective on how he viewed the world around him. He let his eyes scan slowly across her exposed shoulder, and he admired the subtle smooth musculature of her back. She was fit but very feminine, and he realized the strength she had as a being that embraced what she really was. After all it was she that pursued him. Darius remembered his younger decades where he looked at women as more objects than people. He was older now… completely fit and strong… but a man who had learned to view the world as beautiful and complex. A stark contrast to when he viewed the world as chaotic and full of pain.

  He allowed his eyes to follow the smooth dip of her waste as it gently sloped up to her hip. Her backside was mostly bare, but revealed an impressive confluence of curves that trailed downward to her smooth and proportioned legs. He smiled at her beauty, but for beauty’s sake… no thoughts of carnal lust… just admiration for nature’s beauty.

  His thoughts snapped back to present as the wider view of his sparse accommodations reminded him of his current state of affairs. His apartment was nothing more than a space for someone to exist, rather than thrive.

  The meager stipend that he received from Fleet Forces couldn’t cover the cost of much else. It’s not that he wanted to live in some low-rent habitat in orbit of a Sol System moon, but the choice was clear if he wanted to afford food. He continued to clean up and change into a fresh sub-armor suit, but a thousand thoughts at once occupied his mind. He combed is short black hair to military standards, and then ritualistically shaved his stubble.

  He was always distracted about the thoughts of where his career might have taken him had he not been ordered into an inactive duty status. It wasn’t retirement, and it wasn’t active reserve status… It was purgatory. He thought back to how military service used to be. Back before human life expectancy had doubled, then tripled. Technology had changed so much. Soldiers used to be conscripted against their will. He paused to try and comprehend a society where you would turn down being a Soldier. Ever since humans took to the stars and created sovereign governments outside of Earth’s own system, tens of billions of young people apply to serve. AI’s and advance algorithms narrow it down to tens of millions, and then again to five million. Those five million would attend regional boot camps and academies in turn. Only 1 million would graduate from both, and less than half of those would complete the next twelve years of intense training. Only after 15 years of vetting, training, and perfecting the art of war would one emerge to be called Private.

  The warm wet washcloth finally broke his attention. He wiped his brow and stared into the mirror. Before him was the face of a salty Soldier. Old enough to have mastered his craft, but still too young to be ordered into an inactive status. Now he had to do the despicable work of a freelance civilian in order to have any standard of living above mere subsistence. All Soldiers had to be given a stipend if they weren’t receiving a retirement benefit, or receiving a regular active duty pay check. Soldiers were otherwise unemployable. Although many had marketable skills, they are nearly always so hardwired for military service that they lack the social skills to join the workforce. Decades of brutal training coupled with dozens of artificial enhancements make their adaptability to civilian career success nearly impossible. His hard-wired persona was too cemented to reverse it without illegal reconditioning methods.

  Now Darius had a chance to earn some extra credits to put away… Or to fuel up his vintage LRF-90 fighter for a long range trip. He wasn’t just waking up to his alarm in order to stare at the walls, after all. Although he did always seem to wake up within seconds before the alarm went off. It never mattered what time he set it to… He always beat it…

  The door chime buzzed, and it irritated the ringing in his ears that had plagued him in recent months. Darius –now in full armor- decided he would perform an antiquated ritual… He opened the door himself.

  “Well, look at you, Gunny!” She was referring to the digital readout of the rank insignia on his right arm monitor. The insignia bore three golden stripes rising to a point and two curved rockers that joined beneath it. Had he been on active duty, the gold would have been blue, and outlined with a background color depicting his assigned role. He tried not to cringe at the title… It was customary for Soldiers, placed on inactive status, to receive an honorary promotion… One that would be likely taken away if ever he be placed back on active duty.

  He was just grateful that Soldiers were allowed to keep their powered armor for life. Each set of UAHC Military spec armor was Tayler-made for each individual, and could be modified for a full range of light, medium, and heavy applications. It would at least bolster his status –slightly- whenever he had to interact with other Soldiers.

  Darius looked back up from his own arm and locked eyes with the woman standing before him. She had long black hair that hung behind her ears and fell down her back. He couldn’t tell how long it was by where he was standing. She wore similar armor to him, but he couldn’t quite place the model. He supposed it was law-enforcement grade, as opposed to the tougher and more advanced military spec. It appeared to be current, but nothing he was familiar with.

  “Come in! Shit, sorry.” He realized he was with his thoughts and had left an awkward pause.

  “Why thank you!” She spoke with a semi-flirty grin as she stepped inside. “We haven’t met face-to-face, so allow me to introduce myself formally. I’m Kara.”

  “Glad to meet you, Kara.” Darius’ words seemed to have to force themselves out. Speaking in pleasantries was not his strong suit. “To be clear… I am going to be ‘escorting’ someone?”

  “Yes, exactly.” Kara was decisive. “Nothing shady or illegal, I assure you.”

  “Aaaand, would that someone be you?” Darius knew it couldn’t be her. She was wearing armor that nobody would be wearing unless they had enough training to handle themselves.

  “No! Knuckle head!” She laughed through the words. “I’m on escort duty as well. My company insisted I hire a fully vetted wing-man for this one. Your name came up as a strong candidate. Prolly due to the fact that you are a Fleet trained UAHC Soldier on inactive status… and happens to own a flight worthy
LRF-90.”

  “Wait a damned minute!” Darius casted an accusing eye at Kara. “I never once mentioned in my net add that I owned any such thing!”

  “Relax!” She held her hands up as if to calm him down. “My company wouldn’t blindly recommend you to me without digging deep. Besides, this mission requires someone who can keep up with my LRF-90, and there aren’t exactly too many Soldiers who can even afford a down payment on a chassis, let alone a fully operational one!”

  “My ride wasn’t in the contract.” Darius was cold and calm. He knew raising his voice wouldn’t do him any favors. “I can barely afford the fuel needed to keep the systems burned-in, and working! My bird hasn’t…”

  “Flown more than a light minute in about six months?” Kara cut him off and shot him a look of a woman in complete control of this situation.

  “Son of a…” He threw his arms up in frustration, and then nervously ran them through his dark hair. He paced a bout for a few moments before he could collect his thoughts. “That thing is all I have left of my family that I didn’t even know… I could live out my days comfortably if I sold it…. But I can’t. I can’t sell the only part of me I have left.” He realized the words were outload. He was now upset with himself that he showed any vulnerability. Showing any emotional weakness to a civilian was something Soldiers just didn’t due.

  “I know…Trust me.” Kara’s face showed what Darius could only suspect was empathy… Something Soldiers are also not used to. “Mine has been in my family for generations. I get paid well for what I do, but it would never be enough to buy a ’90 of my own…. But cheer up, buttercup, because I’ve already ordered a full tank of juice and a fresh atmospheric module for your old bird!” She paused to see if he would react…. He didn’t. “So, now you can make it to interstellar space, and beyond, without having to breathe that decades old air!”