Diana's Writing Blog

This is my personal account of the worst assignment I’ve ever had. If you take the time to read my official report you’ll find that they differ a bit. 

It was 0500 hours standard time when we approached Planet Zeronagisu (I call it Planet Zero). I had set my alarm for 0430, but had slept right through it. The chime of my communicator finally roused me. I groaned and rolled over, trying ignore it.

My second-in-command, Lieutenant Reilly, overrode the privacy lock on the communicator. “Captain? We’re ready to dock with the space station.”

I struggled out of the bed. “I’ll be there in two minutes,” I said. I dressed quickly and hurried down the corridor while wrapping my hair into a bun. By the time I reached the bridge, I was in fairly presentable condition. “Prepare to dock,” I said, taking my seat in the command chair.

As soon as we connected with the space station, a woman’s face appeared on the viewscreen. “Welcome, Captain McCallister,” she said, smiling politely. “I am your aide and attaché, Alissa Reed. We have a lot to discuss. I’ll meet you in the briefing room as soon as you’re aboard.” She hung up before I could get a word in edgewise. I shrugged and started for the corridor.

“Good luck,” Reilly called.

I would need it. My assignment was more than difficult. It wasn’t fighting any war. No, it had been thirty years since the last real war. Thirty years of peace, in which time the citizens of the Allied Planets had grown complacent. They began to doubt the need for the fleets of ships that the military was maintaining at the taxpayers’ expense. So in response to this growing doubt, our leaders added a new responsibility to the Fleets’ job description: peacemaking. We are now expected to travel to Allied worlds and try to negotiate peace amongst warring factions.

My mission was to make peace between the two warring factions on Zero. These are two of the most stubborn, narrow-minded, and selfish groups of people in the known galaxy: the Terrostanzktyl and the Hendarstanlntyl. I copied these directly from the briefing. I can’t spell them or pronounce them without help. I call them the Terros and the Hendars. Ambassadors would arrive ––on separate ships–– at 0600 hours.

Ms. Reed reminded me of this very fact when I reached the briefing room. “We have so much to do!” she exclaimed. “Here is a dossier on both of the Ambassadors.” She handed me two small black viewscreens. “Your translator.” It was a handheld one about the size of a human hand. She slapped a hand to her forehead. “Oh! You still have to get dressed!”

“Get dressed?” I asked, puzzled. As far as I knew I was wearing clothes already. I looked down to be sure: yes, I was wearing a standard uniform. “Dress in what?”

“This.” Reed produced a large box and held it out to me. Inside was a simple white dress.

“Why?” was all I could manage.

“The Terrostanzktyl and Hendarstanlntyl,” you have to admire the fact that she said these without tripping, “consider it a threat to wear a uniform to peace talks.”

At 0600 hours I marched into the negotiation room wearing the long white dress. Grudgingly, I might add.

The room was a medium sized conference room with a six-foot table in the center. An ambassador would be seated at either end in a moment. I sat down at my seat, which was directly in the center of the table, and waited. At 0610, a chime sounded and each Ambassador entered through a door directly behind his chair. The first thing that I noticed was that they were both wearing their uniforms. The Ambassadors noticed this, as well. Immediately, both began shouting about the insult and disrespect the other was showing. Never mind that he himself was wearing a uniform.

It took me ten minutes to get them quiet and seated. I managed to get them to introduce themselves: the one to my left was Michalaranghi (Mitch, as I call him) and the one to my right was Luktagomaron (Luke). After that, I said, “Now, I want each of you to take turns telling his side of the problem.”

Bad idea. Halfway through Mitch’s speech about how Luke’s people were, “Immoral, unclean, sacrilegious, criminals.” Luke dived across the table and began to choke Mitch, while screaming something like, “God–killer and murderer.”

I really wished I’d brought my gun. Nothing gets a room’s attention like a blaster fired at the ceiling. Unfortunately, I had nothing but a pair of dossiers and a translator. I ran for the two guards outside the door. When the fight was finally broken up, I suggested a thirty minute break to let the Ambassadors collect their thoughts––and their teeth.

I sat alone in the negotiation room reading my dossiers: Luke’s people are monotheists. Mitch’s people are polytheists. The problem was that both races were fiercely adamant that theirs was the only religion and all others were unclean. This had resulted in a dividing of the planet and four world wars. Unfortunately, the races had evolved to a point where nuclear weapons were a viable option. And they intended to exercise that option sometime very soon. The resulting blast would completely destroy the planet.

At 0700 the Ambassadors filed reluctantly back in. I had the guards standing on the inside of the door, just in case. “Now,” I said, “can we talk civilly about your problems?”

“This is futile!” Mitch yelled slamming his fist down on the table. “I am tired of dealing with inferior heathens. There will be no peace with murderers!”

Luke jumped up. “You dare to call us heathens and murderers when you bomb our churches, burn our towns, and murder our women and children!”

The peace talks dissolved into name-calling and insults again. This time, I stalked out before it could turn into a fistfight. I flopped down on the couch across the hall from the negotiation room and poured myself a glass of water. Ms. Reed walked over. “How is it going?” she asked.

“Do you think if I shot them, I’d have better luck with the next two?” I asked.

“What?” Ms. Reed exclaimed. She clearly didn’t get my subtle ––and always tasteful–– sense of humor.

“Never mind,” I said, sighing. I finished my glass of water and examined my empty glass. Suddenly, inspiration struck. “I think I’ll change tactics,” I announced. I strode back into the negotiation room and sat down at the table. I waved the guards out of the room. Then I pulled out my Blaster, which I had retrieved on my way back, and brandished it for both to see. Immediately, they fell silent. I set my empty water glass down on the table with a loud clink. “Now,” I said. “I want both of you to listen to me and don’t say a word, understood?”

“This is an outra––” Mitch began, but I fired a shot over his shoulder.

“Understood?” I repeated.

They nodded silently.

“I haven’t really read your dossiers fully, but from what I’ve gathered you two have a lot in common: you’re both stubborn, narrow-minded, and willing to sacrifice your entire planet to prove that you are superior. Now, obviously you aren’t going to listen to each other or me or my government. You are going to continue this foolish war until you kill yourselves.

“So, I’ve decided that I am going to come back after you do. I am going to scrape what little remains of your planet into this very glass,” I held it up to illustrate, “and I am going to personally place it on display at our museum on Earth. Right next to the dinosaur display––they’re extinct too. Underneath this glass, I’ll write: ‘The remains of the Planet Zero. Contained herein is all that remains of the ten billion men, women, and children of the Planet Zero. Unfortunately, the stubbornness and stupidity of two leaders led to their demise.’ And you know what? It won’t matter who killed who or who bombed which church because there’ll be nobody left to care. Just a pile of dust in the museum. But, hey, don’t feel bad. This cup is probably the first thing you’ll be able to share without fighting.”

With that, I set the cup down in front of them and left the room as the Ambassadors stared in stunned silence.

I returned to my ship and waited.

I fully expected to be chewed out by the highest official we had for alienating the two Ambassadors, so the call from Admiral Springton came as no surprise.

However, what she had to say was not at all what I expected: “Captain McCallister,” she said, “congratulations. The Ambassadors are begging to resume peace talks. They want to meet with you again tomorrow. I don’t know how you pulled it off, but good work. You may be getting a medal soon.”

I had a feeling that if anyone ever found out how I really pulled it off I’d be facing a court martial instead of a medal.

 The End