A short story

[Dotard]

(Author Unknown)

Unwelcome Contact
or
In space, no-one can hear you preach

The stars reappeared as the explorer ship Sisyphus dropped back into normal space near a binary yellow dwarf star system, the Hawking Distortion Engines loosening their grip on the space-time continuum. The ship maneuvered between the fourth planet of the system and its moon, and proceeded to scan the local volume for any signs of its assailant. It seemed that they might have finally escaped. Repair teams began to work on the damage the hull had suffered, and Counselors started prioritising the traumatised crewmembers. Non-essential systems were shut down as the crew attempted to minimise the chances of detection. The Sisyphus hung in space, dark and silent. The next few weeks looked to be quite busy.

Eight hours later, the automatic alarms sounded. An anomaly had been detected towards the edge of the solar system, and the Sisyphus went back to Full Alert.
"Is it them?", asked Captain Morgan.
"They have not yet come through, but in all likelihood, it is them.", replied Fahar, directing the long-range sensors to the source of the disturbance.
"Shields to maximum, secure bulkheads, power up the Wide Spectrum Cannon and the defense grids.", Morgan said, trying to keep the despair in her voice at a minimum.
Beyond the orbit of the outermost gas-giant, the stars briefly whirlpooled, and a single point at the centre expanded rapidly to form the familiar, geometric shape of the enemy ship. Formed from six distinct cubes, it was a three-by-two rectangle almost a mile long. Each section appeared to be intricately carved from a solid block of dull grey metal, with no apparent outer hull. The occupants were more concerned with function than form. Their mission had little time for aesthetics. Almost impossibly quickly, the ship altered direction and headed towards the fourth planet.
"Captain, they're coming." called Fahar, stating the obvious. Of course they were coming - that's what they did. That's all they did.

There was no sense in trying to hide now, and the ship's systems were powered up once more. The repair teams finished what they were doing, and the Sick Bay prepared for casualties.
"Hail them.", said Morgan, "I know it's probably pointless, but we can try to reason with them again."
"Opening channels... They are responding, Captain. Putting it on-screen now.". This was Jackson, at the comms station. He was sweating. Seeing the adversary again so soon was something he did not relish.
The screen switched from a view of the gently swirling clouds of the planet below to the face of the enemy.

"Captain Morgan. My designation is Proselytiser Eight Of Ten. Drop your shields. Do not resist us. We bring good news." Morgan looked into the visage of horror that was the face of her pursuer. The shiny, pasty white skin; the slicked-back hair; the suit with creases so sharp you could shave with it; the fixed smile, strangely warm and yet somehow also contemptuous and pitying. The Christ-Borg had found them once more.

"Proselytiser Eight. How good to see you again.", spoke Morgan. "Our position remains the same. We will not join you. We have no need of your beliefs. We will resist you to our last breath. I suggest you turn around and leave now."
"Humans. Resistance is futile. You will be assimilated. We are Christ-Borg.", droned Eight through his gleaming smile. "We will reach you within five minutes, at which time you will become one with us. Your vessel is damaged and you cannot outrun us."
"We do not want to fight you, Eight. We are heading back to Federation Space and wish to have no conflict with you. We believe what we believe, and you believe what you believe. Can't we be reasonable about this?". Morgan was trying to remain calm. The Captain losing her temper was the last thing the Sisyphus needed. She knew the Christ-Borg would probably see that as an example of inferior morality, and attack immediately.

"Reason is irrelevant. You will be assimilated. Every knee shall bow. You are sentient beings, therefore it is required that you accept Christ Jesus as your saviour. This will happen. Do not resist.", commanded the Proselytiser. Morgan had heard this speech before. Many times.
Muting the connection, Morgan spoke to the bridge crew. "Are the shields at full strength? Good. People, we are still a long way from home. We've escaped the Christ-Borg before, and we can do it again. They might have strength of numbers, and a superhuman faith in their own righteousness, but we have one thing they don't. Independent thought. Remember, they are a hive-mind. They cannot be considered to be individuals. The entire ship is a colony of one, and to join them is to become part of their collective consciousness. We think freely, they do not. We can outwit them, even if we can't outrun them. We escaped from the Islamic Jihad Fleet, when everyone thought they were an unstoppable Hegemonising Swarm. We passed undetected through Mormon Space, and we can escape from the Christ-Borg also. So, let's do it! Fahar, what's their status?"

"Captain, they are currently traveling at relativistic speed, and seem to be charging up their Dogma Weapons.", replied Fahar. The Vulcan did not appear to be worried, but then, they rarely did. The Vulcans were one of the few species that appeared to be naturally immune to the pleadings of the various religious Crusade Empires.
* * * *
The Empires had come into being shortly after Earth had mastered faster-than-light travel. With the development of Hawking Distortion Engines, Warp Drives, Energy Grid Grippers and Abyss-Gates, humanity quickly spread through the local spiral arm of the galaxy. Many neighbouring solar systems were colonised simply to ease the burden on the overcrowded home-world. Science stations were set up on exotic planets, or in orbit around those worlds where various interesting forms of life had evolved. Many of the larger organised religions headed off on their own, to create entire worlds devoted to the worship of their particular Gods. Many still traded regularly with the (relatively) secular worlds, and occasionally sent Mission Ships to the more backward planets on the edge of Federation Space, or into uncharted regions, hoping to spread their beliefs to as yet undiscovered alien intelligences. Few came back. Vatican VI, the sixth world of the Vatican System, was home to the Roman Catholic Universal Church (commonly referred to as Pope-World). The other large church-worlds included Planet Of Islam, Sri Baba's World, and the Religious Conglomeration World (a mixed-faith planet, consisting of those religions that could co-exist peacefully; a prime target for missionary expeditions from the fundamentalist worlds).

As has happened throughout history, the larger religions produced extremists. Whilst most followers were content with their life within the churches, and often spent a good deal of time on the secular worlds, others were not content. Numerous factions felt that the teachings of the mainstream church had become too liberal in an attempt to accommodate everyone, and had lost their focus on the True Faith. Fundamentalist prophets rose at the fringes of the religions, and if they became too large or powerful the main church would often provide them with transportation and supplies so that they could start their own church-worlds, preferably a long way away. The best way to deal with doomsday cults seemed to be to get them away as quickly as possible. Often, these factions would eventually trickle back to the main churches, or simply never be heard from again. Travellers would bring rumours of planet-wide suicides or natural catastrophes, but many church-worlds simply cut off all communication with the outside. (The Amish, for example, bought passage to a planet on the edge of Federation space, and have lived in total isolation since. No radio transmissions have been heard from them for decades now, and no-one knows if they are happily surviving with no technology or have suffered some terrible disaster. Their request for absolute isolation is being respected, although there are still a handful of listening-probes on the edge of Amish Space, in case they ever do need outside help.)
Occasionally, these sects would become Crusaders, building fleets of vast starships and traveling from system to system spreading their Good News, by force if necessary. Of these, the most feared are the Christ-Borg. Originally a minor sect on Robertson's World, they began altering their bodies, attempting to use technology to achieve communion with their god. With the realisation that independent thought was unnecessary, even hazardous, to their beliefs, they merged their beings into one hive-mind. There could only be One Truth, and there was no need for anyone to think differently. They would all believe as one, and all be Saved as one. Soon after this, they started Crusading. Theirs was the Truth, and all others must be made to realise that.
* * * *
The Sisyphus' shields flickered briefly, as they absorbed a stream of energetic particles from the larger of the local binary stars, and then restored themselves to a mirrored ellipsoid around the ship, perfectly reflecting the planet, moon, stars and rapidly closing Christ-Borg vessel. As it slowed, the structure of the vessel altered. The intricate cubes slid past each other in a carefully co-ordinated ballet of tractor beams, until they were in the standard Christ-Borg attack formation. A crucifix, over a mile long. The twin suns cast a double shadow of the ancient instrument of execution, passing slowly over the cratered surface of the moon below as the ship powered up it's Gospel Beams and opened the gun-ports of the powerful Testament Cannons.

"Proselytiser Eight! There is no need for this. We understand your beliefs, but we simply cannot adopt them. To you, they are the total truth, but we cannot follow the logic behind them."
"Logic is irrelevant. You will have faith. You will be assimilated. Every knee shall bow. Every tongue shall praise His name."
"Maybe if you give us time, we will come to accept your beliefs. You must let us think them through by ourselves. Return to your Church-World and leave us in peace."
"Thought is futile. There is nothing to consider when presented with the Truth. The collective will think for you. You will think like us, you will dress like us, you will act like us, you will worship with us. There is no alternative. Repent your sins. We are Christ-Borg. You will serve God through the collective."
"Never! You might consider difference of belief a sin, but we do not. We are humans, and the freedom of our minds is supremely important to us. Why would you take that away?"
"Your mind exists only to serve Him through the collective. We love you. Jesus loves you. You will become one with us and sing His praises with one voice to all the heathen worlds, that they may see the error of their ways. You have been presented with the Revealed Truth, and to deny it is now a sin." Eight's eyes seemed to be glazing over, and his smile was becoming more fixed. Morgan recognised the warning signs, and changed her tactics before the Proselytiser started reading the Bible at her.
"Listen to me. Many members of my crew already believe in your God, but choose to worship in their own way. We even have a multi-faith Chapel on deck nine. They do this and can still think for themselves. There are followers of eighteen different religions in my crew, as well as atheists and agnostics. Most of us simply don't share your beliefs. Can you understand that? Power down your weapons."

"You lie. Those you speak of are not Christ-Borg, therefore they are false Christians. Those followers of false gods are Deceived, and will be Enlightened. The unbelievers amongst you, including you Captain, will witness the Glory of His Truth. You have no need for thought, only belief. Your false Humanist religion will not save you, it will only cast you into the Pit. Your minds and bodies will be altered, the blood of Christ will flow in your veins, and the words of the Good Book will fill your every thought. Every knee shall bow. Your knees will bow, or you will be utterly destroyed, that you may spread your lies and hatred no more. God is merciful."
"Eight. For the last time, I do not share your beliefs. We respect your right to those beliefs, but do not try to force them on the crew of this ship. If we want to join you, we know where to find you, but leave us alone until that time."
"Why do you deny the sovereignty of the Lord? What has He done unto you that causes you such hatred? You will be assimi-"

Morgan cut the transmission. "It's no use. They appear to leave us no choice. Ensign Kuvel, bring the Logic Probe online. Drop the rear shields to twenty percent and route all available power to the WS Cannon. Reason is irrelevant, eh? Let's see how relevant they think this reasoning is."
The crucifix-ship lowered it shields as it prepared to attack. The Sisyphus' battle computers expected this, and instantly a window irised open in the mirror-field around the ship. The Wide Spectrum Cannon discharged, visible as a pencil-beam of pulsating rainbow radiation. It flashed across the intricate surface of the Christ-Borg cubes and penetrated all the information systems, flooding the electronic thought processors of the collective with information, rational ideas, critical thought functions and volumes of scientific facts. The collected works of a thousand freethinkers were transmitted in a nanosecond. Each member of the collective was forcibly made aware of the entire four-thousand year history of their religion; all the people it had helped, and all those it had destroyed; all known arguments for their beliefs were shown to be incoherent or unsupportable; their inbuilt double-think was stretched to breaking point with demonstrations of all the inconsistencies and contradictions of their faith, pumped into the hive-mind too quickly to be rationalised away. The collective intelligence suffered the distress of cognitive dissonance. The Automatic Faith Enhancers were overloaded, the Emergency Heresy Dampers sprang into life, and the main Prayer Reactor shut down. The cruciform starship hung in space, dark and lifeless, twisting imperceptibly in the solar wind.

"Captain, the ship appears to be disabled. Its shields are lowered and the Gospel Beams are powering down. Do you wish to attack?"
"No, Kuvel. I think we've already done plenty of harm. Anyway, there will be more of them on the way now. These ones will either be re-indoctrinated or expelled from the Empire, depending on how much damage we've inflicted. Either of those are punishment enough." Captain Morgan sat back in her chair. "Shields down. Bring the Distortion Engines up, and get us home."
The ship slid out of orbit, and once it was at a safe distance from the planet, Kuvel engaged the Hawking Distortion engines once more. Six hemispherical pods along the spine of the ship split open and slid noiselessly back down into the hull, and the fractal branches of the Distortion Engine emerged, growing almost organically to their full height as they wove into the stuff of space-time and took hold. The space around the Sisyphus appeared to twist into a knot as the ship punched through into Hawking Space, and emitted a shell of violet light as it re-aligned itself afterwards.

Undetected by either the Sisyphus or the Christ-Borg vessel, the Jehovah's Witness Preacher-Class cruiser, the WatchTower XII, gracefully lifted from the surface of the moon. Electrostatic charges dispersed the dust that had settled onto the hull, and formed a faint trail as it increased its velocity. Ignoring the Christ-Borg ship, it tracked the Sisyphus' progress and plotted an intercept course. These were the Last Days, and there were souls to be saved.

[Violet]

Good read, but didn't i read this like a year back when I was poking around in the really old threads?

[Dotard]

Yes you did.

I tend to re-post things after much time has passed for the enjoyment of new members and those who may have missed it the first time around.