Star Trader Update .041

041.01

Tal’on had drifted off into a troubled sleep where the beings on this planet hit and probed him with their fiery sticks. He was brought back to reality by the sound of something grating against the stone floor. He bolted to his feet and yanked his chain to its full length in order to follow the sound to the see-through wall. He was surprised to see part of the wall was open now. One of the beings, blue from neck to feet, except for his hands, was standing there flanked by six other red beings, equipped with the pain sticks Tal’on encountered before. Several other beings of multiple colors stood behind them. Tal’on could see at least four more before the cave curved to conceal where others of their kind might have been hiding.

He wondered if the color of the beings designated their rank in their society as the color of his skin gave others an idea of his lineage, age and status. Perhaps the blue was a ruler…a leader of some type.

Tal’on projected his thoughts to the being, something he had not thought to do when they took him prisoner. He saw no recognition from the being. Perhaps they did not communicate like his kin. Verbal might be better. Tal’on cleared his parched throat and spoke.

“Where am I?” was his question.

The man in blue responded by taking a step back and turning to his collages for counsel, or to instruct. Tal’on could not tell. Their language was as alien to him as his must have been to them.

Tal’on decided sign language might be a way to communicate. He wanted out of these chains, out of the cave, and out of here. He hoped that being in this strange cave was what was blocking his communication with Graf’tal. He had not been out of range of the old dragon since becoming his companion. It was unsettling, indeed frightening, with these alien beings in such close proximity.

Tal’on stepped forward with his hands out prepared to go down on one knee. However, before he could complete his bow of submission the red beings moved into a protective shield around the blue one and struck him with their sticks. Tal’on was brought to his knees and eventually thrust back down into unconsciousness.

041.02 

The young dragon awoke in a pool of his own vomit. The beings had beat him until he had heaved and passed out. They were gone now thank the stars and planets. He rolled to his feet and found to his dismay he could not rise. A collar had been added to his neck and it was attached with a very short chain to the ring in the floor where his foot had previously been chained. They obviously thought he was dangerous and violent. He had to prove to them that he did not, and would not, hurt them if they just let him go.

His mouth tasted foul and he ached all over. A whimper escaped his lips. He snorted to think he sounded like a hatchling crying for its mother. He was a youngling. Almost ready to fledge. An Early Graf’tal had said.

He heard a noise from the direction of the see-through wall. Tal’on found himself cringing before he could stop himself. He snorted again. He was a pitiful example of his kin. He wished he could rise to his feet in order to feel more in power and less like a beaten prey.

A being advanced tentatively into the cell. It was green from neck to feet. Tal’on couldn’t remember seeing this color in previous encounters. The being had a bucket and Tal’on could smell water. He came to life. He was unable to rise any further than a sitting position, but he did make it to his knees and rocked back to sit on his heels with his tail extended behind him. He placed his chained hands on his knees, laid back his ears and lowered his head in a submissive posture. He made no move toward the being.

The green made sure to stay out of Tal’on’s reach. It said something softly, in what sounded to Tal’on’s ears as thought it were soothing. He had a moment to think that the being sounded female as opposed to the other louder voices he’d heard from the beings with sticks, but then the bucket of water was splashed on him and the floor around him.

The water was icy cold. Tal’on’s head shot up in surprise. He gasped at the shock. The green looked contrite, but turned and left immediately.

Tal’on shook to free himself of the water. He was running his hands over his body to disburse the rest when the green returned with a broom. She, for Tal’on was sure it was a female now that he had a closer look, gave him a wide birth and put her broom to use sweeping the vomit lying in the pool of bucket water to the open drain behind Tal’on. She was cleaning up. Tal’on scooted around on his knees and cocked his wedged head in her direction. He smiled a toothy grin trying to look friendly. She looked as frightened as he felt. She scurried around him and back out the open wall only to return with another bucket. This time Tal’on was prepared when she flung the water. He rose to his feet though still in a squatted position because he could not rise any further, but he lifted his tail and let the water run past. She swept the rest of the refuse down the drain. Off she scurried again and returned with a third bucket. Tal’on felt she had accomplished her task and was about to attempt some sign language when she put the bucket down and with the broom pushed it within his reach.

He grabbed at it thankfully and buried his muzzle in the cold water almost up to his eyes, sucking and lapping away until it was empty. How long had he been without something to drink? In fact, how long had he been here? There were no openings in the walls, no indication of passage of time. He wanted to go home. When he looked up the green was still standing there, leaning on her broom, with a smile on her face.



“Delevy turned out to be Tal’on’s only friend on Valdare,” Rudd’ard explained. “She was the only one to take the time to try and communicate with him and eventually assist him in getting home.”

“With the way the rest of her kind acted, I am surprised she tired,” I said. I stood up to stretch my legs.

“The Valdare’s are a people at war. They are constantly fighting among themselves. They were sure Tal’on was just another weapon against them sent by their enemy,” Mul’drak snorted in derision. “They had been at war so long they did not even know how or why it started and yet they were so insane they continue to fight.”

It didn’t make a lot of sense to me, but when did war ever make sense? It was an interesting story and I wanted to hear the end. I sat back down to listen to Rudd’ard’s gentle baritone as he continued.

041.03

Delevy pushed the platter, of what Tal’on could only assume was food, toward him with her handy broom handle. She had been in and out over the last few hours. The young dragon decided she had been assigned as his guard. She lengthened the chain that was attached to his neck by flipping a lever on the wall which allowed the ring in the floor to detach and rise up on its own length of chain. The young dragon could now stand and stretch his legs.

Tal’on reached out and fingered the ‘food’ on the platter. It was some sort of vegetation – multiple colors and textures. There was no meat visible on the tray. Nothing that Tal’on would actually term as food. He pushed the stuff around with a claw. He was ravenous. He had no idea how long he had been without food…long enough to feel a bit dizzy when he stood…long enough that if he were home he could have eaten a full grown Crazar without difficulty all on his own. He looked up into the green’s smiling face. She encouraged him by signing an eating motion with hand-to-mouth.



“It’s food. Eat it,” Delvey said.

She knew the lizard looking beast had to be hungry. It was captured over three days ago and no one had offered it anything until now. She motioned with her hands and rubbed her tummy with a satisfied grin on her face. She hoped she was getting her point across. It seemed reluctant. Of course, who could blame it? There were so many things running through her mind. What was it? Where did it come from? How did it get here?

It had appeared out of nowhere in the middle of town square during the Commission Day celebration. Every able bodied Soldier advancing in rank had been at the Festival. The beast was lucky it lived through it. With all the Soldier’s families there for the celebration, and all the Soldiers in full military dress, they instantly went into a defense mode when it appeared. They used their stun batons to subdue it and then dragged it down here to lock it up until they could question it.

When it made a move against the Prime, the first time they made contact with it again, his personal guard beat it unconscious.

Delevy was the guard for the Sandcor prisoners. She assigned herself to guard this thing when she found it lying in its own vomit. Nothing deserved that kind of treatment. She would not let a Valdare treat one of her Sandcor prisoners that cruelly.

She imagined the Prime was consulting with his staff as to the disposition of the beast. Delevy heard rumors their ruler thought it might be a creature genetically altered by their enemy and sent to assassinate him. The Prime was present at the ceremony to advance the ranks. Though if that was the case, it was a poor attempt on the Sandcor’s part. They should have sent more than one.

She sighed. Delevy wished she could talk to the beast. If the Sandcor had bred this thing in a test tube, why didn’t they give it the ability to learn the people’s language? What was the use of having a Soldier you couldn’t command?

“You must be hungry,” she said and motioned again.

It was dull being assigned guard duty. Having this thing here was a bright spot in her day even if she did have to clean up its vomit.



Tal’on picked up something orange in color and about the length of his hand. He sniffed at it. It smelled of dirt, not appetizing at all, but it was obviously all they were going to offer him. He bit off a piece and chewed. It was abSolutely revolting. As soon as the taste touched his tongue he ran to the drain and spit it out. It was all he could do to keep from dry heaving over the after-taste it left in his mouth.

When he turned back to the green, she had a frown on her face and was twisting a lock of the long black fur on her head between her fingers in what Tal’on could only interrupt as an agitated fashion.

He decided to make a point. He strode back to the platter, lifted it from the floor, took it to the drain and dumped all the contents into the hole. He knelt down and slid the tray back to her, then stood and dusted off his hands with a note of finality.



Well, Delevy thought, that was easy enough to interrupt. He didn’t eat growth. If he was a creation of the Sandcor, what had they bred? What gene pool did this beast rise from? What did he eat? Everything on Valdare survived, nay flourished, on growth except for the Knots the Valdare bred for sentry duty and bomb sniffing. They were bred to like flesh so they would bite and tear the Sandcor. Perhaps their enemy had developed this beast for the same service even though it walked on two legs instead of four.

She took her platter and went to the Klay to obtain some meat from the keepers of the Knots.



Tal’on watched the green leave. When he heard the opening on the partial wall scrap shut he went to the wall of his prison. He could reach the back stone now that she had lengthened his chain. He ran his hand over one of the azure colored. It was like the mountains at home he could feel the vibration it made to his touch.

Where in all the stars was he? He couldn’t be on the clan’s home world. He had Jumped all over their planet. There were no beings such as what he encountered here. He tried to think of what was in his mind at the last Jump with Graf’tal. He shook his wedged head in frustration. His head hurt. He reached up to rub it and found that his horns were no longer knobs, but had acquired a pointed tip. He was Turning. Oh no…He couldn’t do this alone. He couldn’t make it through the Turn without his Great…without Graf’tal!

Tal’on scratched at the base of his horn with a claw. It did ache. He had to get out of here. He couldn’t remember any of the last Jump except for the landing…that was permanently etched in his brain. His body still ached from the odd weapons the red’s used. Or was it the weapons after affects? It could be the Early Turn coming on. What came next? What was it Graf’tal told him about the warning signs?

He would ache from the growth building within him. He would experience chills and headaches. The last thing he would feel before he drifted off into stasis would be intense pain in his back where his wings would sprout while he was unconscious during the long sleep. Graf’tal’s thoughts would soothe him through the worst of it. When he awoke he would be a fully fledged dragon.

He had to get home…He couldn’t do this alone.

Tal’on ran a claw around the edge of the azure stone where it joined with the other darker stones. His body vibrated with the sense of home. Vibrated…he ran his claw around it again and it hummed to his touch. His red eyes squint in pleasure. He could make a Sollen. If there was a dragon anywhere near his location they would answer the call, even if they didn’t belong to his kin. No dragon could resist the call of a Sollen. That was what Graf’tal taught him. For the first time since his landing in this horrid place Tal’on had hope. He had a plan. He might just get out of this pit. He began to claw at the stone in an attempt to loosen it enough he could carve a piece from its corner.



Delevy returned with a platter of meat to find the lizard beast clawing at the stone in the wall. It was desperate to get out. She had seen the Knots chew at the bars of their cages in the past. It was an unsettling sight. After all, they were meat eaters. It was only the fact they kept them well fed and their intense training using the stun batons and regular beatings that kept them in check. They had no loyalty to their handlers. They would turn on them in a second if not shown the dominating factor of their Valdare Soldier masters.

It made Delevy question her leniency in giving the beast more slack in its chain.

The creature turned at the sound of her approach. Its ears lay back against its head making the nubs of its cream colored horns more visible. Delevy studied the beast for a few moments as it looked as though it were embarrassed it had been caught digging. Did its horns have a sharper tip then they had when she first cared for it yesterday? She could have sworn they were more rounded on the end.

The beast lifted its head and inhaled deeply. It smelled the meat and started slowly toward her. All of a sudden she felt as though she were being stalked. She stepped to the wall and brought the lever up to retract the creature’s chain. The beast was dragged back to the center of the room as it growled and struggled against the chain. It was yanked to the floor where the ring fell back into its hole.

It looked at her with fiery red eyes that seemed to burn her with their intensity. It grumbled out something unintelligible and yanked at the chain.

“No, not until you are fed and I am sure you won’t take a hunk out of me,” Delevy said. She put the platter on the floor and pushed it toward the beast with the ever handy handle of her broom.



Tal’on struggled against the shortening of the chain and the collar around his neck.

“I am not a Threat!” he seethed.

But, he couldn’t be angry for long. He could smell the food. When she pushed it toward him he fell on it like the beast she probably imagined he was. He didn’t care. He was starved. He would try to explain later, after he finished. A shiver ran through him with the first mouthful as the flavor caressed his tongue. He had only a fleeting questionable thought of whether it was a shiver of pleasure or a shiver as a precursor of the Turning before his thought went Solely to filling his very empty stomach.