tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49460511884280447702024-03-05T22:54:01.566-08:00Theresa Snyder - Serial Story BlogUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger215125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-47273604083763972312023-01-22T12:16:00.000-08:002023-01-22T12:16:41.550-08:00Andrew the Agent<p class="MsoNormal"><b style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">It’s
never a good time to be a spy. It’s always dangerous to a greater or lesser
degree. Usually greater, as in this case. My mission required the elimination
of a target in a foreign country and the securing of another individual for
transport from said country. I accomplished the mission, but now we’re unable
to get out of the country. The longer we stay the more likely we will be
tracked down, discovered and caught. Who would have thought a pandemic would
foil my mission?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">When
I left the US for Italy to intercept the Iranian scientist defector and kill
his uncooperative partner, the chance of a pandemic locking down the world was
only a whisper in the higher ranks of the government. It wasn’t enough to put
my mission on hold. If we held off, we would have missed the opportunity to
secure an essential key player in the international arms race. Javid held
classified information in his head that the Iranian’s would not want leaked to
the US. He was allowed to visit Italy for a conference, but it was only a
window of twenty-six hours to work with. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I
had to get him out, but at this point it was impossible.<span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">The
country went into full lockdown two weeks, one day, six hours, and forty-two
minutes ago, trapping us in the hotel room I had rented under a false name. I’d
made the necessary extraction requests over and over again, to no avail. Italy
had locked down tighter than a virgin on her wedding night. No air or motor
traffic in or out of the country. No one allowed on the streets without proper
papers to show they were essential to the ongoing operation of the country.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Javid
and I had watched news broadcast as the information unfolded. The Cauldronvirus
was spreading like a wildfire across the globe. Italy was hit hard because they
were a nation of multi-generational families housing together and a social
climate that brought adults together for coffee before work and drinks after.
The infection rate overwhelmed the hospitals’ abilities to deal with the
pandemic. Patients were lined up on beds in the hallways and in the waiting
rooms. Hospital staff were overcome by the influx of the sick and dying. The
country was stunned to see deaths climbing so fast that refrigeration trucks
were being used to store the bodies until graves could be dug. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Each
room in the hotel was issued with a bottle of hand sanitizer, an additional bar
of soap and a modified room service menu for orders to be delivered to our
rooms. We were advised to shelter in place until informed differently.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">There
was nothing to do but wait. I read a book I downloaded to my phone. I know
Central would have words to say about me using their equipment for such a
frivolous thing, but I was going a little mad listening to the latest news, and
Javid refused to turn the TV off. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">His
disappearance did not even appear on the news, so I relaxed a bit. I still
pulled my gun each time there was a knock on the door for a meal delivery or
housekeeping. We waited as the days progressed into a week with no notice from
my contacts about any plans for extraction.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">On
the eleventh day of our isolation Javid complained of a fever with alternating
chills. He developed a cough later that day. I ordered aspirin to be delivered
with our lunch. Within another day he was having difficulty breathing. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I’d
listened to all the advice on the news and anything I could pick up on social
media, which I also added to my phone and will no doubt catch hell for when I,
if I, return to the states. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I
couldn’t call for assistance. He couldn’t be taken to a hospital. If he was
admitted, then he could be tracked back to me. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I
laid him on his stomach because the news said your lungs were more open that
way then lying on your back. I patted his back to loosen the phlegm. I ran
cold, wet towels over his sweat drenched body. I tried to keep him hydrated as
I listened to him struggle for breath. Eventually, on the fourth day of his
illness, he succumbed. His last breath was ragged, but almost silent.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I
waited until no one was in the hallway on our floor. I bundled him in a sheet
and sent him down the laundry chute to the basement. Things were in such a
turmoil that I doubted his body would be discovered very quickly. Once
discovered it would take some time to mobilize the forces to search the nine
floors of the hotel for me, provided someone from the staff didn’t make the
immediate connection between the dead man and me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I
have packed the small bag Javid had with my stuff, and I intend to leave
tonight after I get the food service delivery I ordered for dinner. I told the staff
member taking the order that we were celebrating Javid’s birthday and that was
the reason for the extra-ordinarily large order. I might need supplies for
several days of travel and I can’t risk getting close to populated areas once I
get out of the city.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I
will need to make my way on foot at first. All vehicle traffic has to go
through roadblocks. Once out of the city, I can steal a car and hopefully make
it over the boarder to Switzerland. I have seen on the news that they have not
closed their boarders yet. From there I might be able to make it home.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; text-indent: 0.5in;">I
just wish I wasn’t so tired, and it wasn’t so damned hot in this room. The
power grid must have been affected by the lockdown. I wipe my brow. I’ll feel
better once I get out in the cool evening air.</span> </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkm9lXsx9r1iRtJ6gUZyiSRgrWyB2aeRTBgbovw6LKtuzhzV0PbT-V6fapUJda4KKrW_SQndXQ3fV1fmFG8LnuaHLV8E8vYbaaAhyeCeblNRyphUZ58sGPHwqg8yRtMuZlse5z1p5bQQKpRTNr8IYpXeE__BGuPgabDxiA-be0tYb6-cj70v6YOmzGAQ/s316/agent.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="316" data-original-width="300" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkm9lXsx9r1iRtJ6gUZyiSRgrWyB2aeRTBgbovw6LKtuzhzV0PbT-V6fapUJda4KKrW_SQndXQ3fV1fmFG8LnuaHLV8E8vYbaaAhyeCeblNRyphUZ58sGPHwqg8yRtMuZlse5z1p5bQQKpRTNr8IYpXeE__BGuPgabDxiA-be0tYb6-cj70v6YOmzGAQ/s1600/agent.png" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-53596511522429681002023-01-10T11:54:00.002-08:002023-01-10T12:00:32.118-08:00Maximillian the Meticulous <p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Max heard the chime notifying him
that his delivery had arrived in the box attached to his safe room. He had
time. It would take the box a few minutes to run its decontamination program.
Even though he was in a hurry to see what had arrived from his black-market
contact, there was no rush. He would finish his toilet. He brushed his teeth
and combed his short gray hair. He took the time to wash and polish his glasses
and run a razor over his morning stubble. He slipped on his sweats and headed
for the waiting package.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Each
month Max paid an enormous amount to procure a package such as this. Sometimes
the contents were worth the price and more… Sometimes he was gravely
disappointed. He hoped this month would bring something worthwhile. He was
expecting company and wanted to show it off.<span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">He
slipped into the safe room and dawned his hazmat suit. Even though the package
contents went through the decontamination process, it wasn’t safe to touch
until further steps had been taken. He lifted the box up to the desk he had in
one corner of the room. He was a little disappointed when he saw there was only
one item in the package. Pickings were getting slim out there in the Cull
infested world.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">The
item was wrapped in shrink-wrap. It had a bold red, black and white warning
band circling it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;"><b><span style="color: red; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">WARNING!<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">The Surgeon General has declared
Paperbound Books to be Hazardous to Your Health!<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;"><b><span style="color: red; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">OPEN AT YOUR OWN RISK!<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Contents most likely Contain Cull
Virus!<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Max
was old enough to remember his parents reading to him prior to the
Cauldronvirus descending on the world population. His father was a teacher, his
mother a librarian. Both held a great respect for books and the knowledge they contained.
He followed in their footsteps and become a teacher himself. He had students
all over the globe who took his literature classes to pass their university
exams. He was extremely popular. Max attributed that to his parents instilling
in him the worth of books and reading.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">When
the Cull ran rampant across the globe, and it was found that the virus attached
itself to paper as well as other porous materials, books (paper items of all
sorts), started to be the enemy. First newspaper delivery ceased. It was
rationalized by many that they could obtain their news from the television or
off the internet. Next postal delivery became suspect and tens of thousands of
government postal workers were put out of jobs. Email became the choice for
correspondence.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">The
last to fall were the books. Fear and misinformation pushed people to do
irrational things. The library of congress went up in flames as people in
Washington, DC stood back and cheered.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">For
years Max’s parents kept their book collection hidden in the basement so it
couldn’t be seen through the windows. When Max’s parents died of natural causes,
Max took the master bedroom on the second floor, knocked out the wall to the
adjoining bedroom and created a library. He walled up the windows. There were
still radicals out there that might report a person for having a collection
such as his. He built bookshelves from floor to ceiling to house the family
books and his ever-expanding collection.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">His
friend in the black-market trade found him a heavy library table. He had to cut
it in half to get it up the stairs, but it made a beautiful centerpiece in the
room once he put it back together and surrounded it with comfortable reading
chairs. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">He
held his little monthly soirees at that table. Through his black-market
connection, he found banker’s lights for the table. He built a bar in the
corner for sherry and liqueurs and installed a hot pot for tea. It was a
perfect meeting place. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Max
turned on the desk UV light and got his disinfectant wipes out of the drawer.
He broke the seal on the book and unwrapped it. He couldn’t believe his luck
this month. Books were getting harder and harder to find. He was delighted with
this purchase. It was one he had on his Wishlist. His contact would find a big
tip when he delivered next month’s finds.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">He
sat down and began the painstaking cleaning of each page of the volume. It
would take most of the morning, but it would be worth it. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Later
that evening Max watched through the plate-glass of his safe room as his guests
devested themselves of their hazmat suits before entering his living room. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">“It
is so good to see you all,” he said as he took their coats. “I hope the walk
over was not too eventful.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">“After
the bear encounter last month, the raccoon family that took up residence at the
old Hancock place seems tame,” Roger said with a grin. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Max’s
friends were all old neighborhood chums. They had all grown up here. The area
had a few gaps now due to deaths. Few people left an inheritance anymore. When
someone passed, their things usually just wasted away, unclaimed. Few people
wanted to take the time to clean, or the chance of bringing the Cull into their
home. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">The
Hancock place had been empty for over twenty years. Max scrounged all the books
from the home years ago. The Simpson place, three doors down, burned several
years ago. Unfortunately, John was in the house at the time and died in the
fire. Some said he was lucky. Dying in a fire was preferable to dying of the
Cull.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">“I
enjoyed seeing the deer in the Simpson’s old lot. They are so curious,” Marilyn
said.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">“She
wants to bring carrots next time to feed them, but I asked her if she trusted
them not to puncture her glove,” her husband of fifty years said. Daniel handed
over his coat.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">“Not
worth the risk I would say,” Thomas added. He was always the pessimist in the
group.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">“I
do miss the old days. I loved my horse.” Marilyn looked as though she might cry
at the thought of her lost childhood. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">“Now,
now,” Max said and patted her arm. This night was special. It was the only
time, once a month, that he got to have physical contact with another human.
“Let’s not start the night off in such a somber mood. I have a lovely surprise
for you upstairs.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">He
led the way to the library. He fussed about getting everyone settled with their
drink of choice. Marilyn always had tea, Roger and Thomas liked Amaretto, and
Daniel had a thing for Kahlua and Cream. Max always made a great effort to have
cream on hand for his drink as well as for Marilyn’s tea. He put the tray of
mini opera cakes out in the middle of the table with a server and placed a
plate, fork and napkin in front of each guest before sitting down with his own
tea.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">“You
spoil us, Maximilian,” Marilyn complimented him. She helped herself to a
chocolate opera cake.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Thomas
added his usual comment. “I honestly don’t know what I would do if we didn’t
have this monthly get together.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Followed
by Roger’s standard joke. “You’d stay in your pajamas all month.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">They
all laughed even though it was an old joke. This time together was special for
all of them.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Thomas
lived along. He had lost his wife almost five years ago. Women were more
susceptible to Cull. She had encountered it at her volunteer workplace in the
hospital. She never even made it home to say good-bye. It was quite tragic.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Roger
was a bachelor too. His partner had died of an appendicitis attack. Everyone
was afraid of hospitals and waited too long to have other ailments looked
after.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Well, I have a treat for us all tonight. We
can take turns reading aloud from my newly purchased volume. It is freshly
cleaned and ready for handling.” Max opened the drawer on the end of the
library table in front of him, pulled the book out and laid it on the table.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">“Oh,
my word!” Marilyn exclaimed turning her head to one side to make sure she read
the title correctly.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">“Damn,
Max! Your black-market man is the best!” Roger literally crowed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">“Don’t
make us wait, man,” Daniel urged.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">“Yes,
read, old boy,” Thomas ordered as he lifted his glass. “To one of the masters
of fiction,” he toasted. “Ray Bradbury!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Max
lovingly caressed the book cover. Opening it gently to the first page he read:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">“Fahrenheit
451.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Chapter
One…The Hearth and the Salamander<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">It
was a pleasure to burn.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">It
was a special pleasure to see things eaten, to see things blackened and <i>changed.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><i></i></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhfVNHpV-jtOt6yduEqcXJV7xZiVavwfsvkM03pZMzHNyyB2vcDTNMaC9ekTZJ-lh6HmV8wWLgUh1KoULArN2Wu6MWMkT7IIUv2-X1-eT1zx3GbdvPTUmErHzM1Zo7B3iO3_u82lAyvQykXWdPcRUU4Q3j_dReFrhhtie5sWoznmnYVxBiCE6XywrxYig" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhfVNHpV-jtOt6yduEqcXJV7xZiVavwfsvkM03pZMzHNyyB2vcDTNMaC9ekTZJ-lh6HmV8wWLgUh1KoULArN2Wu6MWMkT7IIUv2-X1-eT1zx3GbdvPTUmErHzM1Zo7B3iO3_u82lAyvQykXWdPcRUU4Q3j_dReFrhhtie5sWoznmnYVxBiCE6XywrxYig" width="240" /></a></i></div><i><br /><br /></i></div><i><br /><br /></i><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-75140041612356831022022-12-19T12:32:00.007-08:002023-01-10T11:59:07.403-08:00Dan the Deliverer<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I need a new hazmat suit. I went
over mine last night with the approved sealer, but I just don’t trust it. I’ve
asked for a new one for the past three weeks. No one seems to care. I’m not in
a Level I delivery district. I’m not even in a Level II or III. I service a
Level IV. I am fooling myself to think that I am high enough priority to get a
new suit. Heck, I’d settle for a used one in better condition than mine.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">As
much as I’d like to procrastinate, I eventually slip on my suit and head to the
supply depot for my load of daily deliveries. I’m lucky in some sense, because most
of my Level IV deliveries are small. Residents of the Community Units don’t
have a lot to spend.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I
get my truck loaded up by 6:00 am and I’m at my first stop by 7:00 am. My Level
IV district is on the outskirts of town.<span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">It’s
rough out here. I carry a gun and pepper spray. The gun is for a rouge gang
that haunts the area. They stole some suits years ago from a truck that turned
over on Stark Street. Whether they were responsible for the accident is
unclear. No one lived to tell the tale. The shipment of suits was worth a
fortune and no doubt made their way to the black market, but the gang kept one
for each of them. They have roamed the Community Units area ever since, stealing,
scrounging and looting whatever they can.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">My
gun keeps them at bay. I don’t have to be a good shot. No one wants to take the
chance of their suit being punctured. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">As
for the pepper spray, it is meant to deter the feral dogs. They were pets, a
few generations ago, that were left behind when their owners succumbed to the
Cull. They escaped their homes, formed packs, interbred, and started hunting
for their food. Unfortunately, anything out and about, ie delivery personnel,
are on their menu. I can avoid the packs. I can get my truck up close for the
deliveries, but I do worry about Aslan. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I
named the cat after the lion in a fairytale my parents used to read me when I
was a kid. I just wish he liked humans as much as the character in the books.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Aslan’s
parentage must go back to some large breed of domestic cat, maybe a Maine Coon,
who got loose and mated with a wild cat. Maybe a cougar. From there, his
relatives must have continued to inbreed until it resulted in Aslan. He is the
size of a mountain lion with long variegated black to multi-shaded grey fur, so
thick you could probably sink your hand in to the wrist if he was sweet
tempered enough to let you. That is not the case. He has found that my Level IV
district is a good hunting ground. With the absence of humans, wildlife has
exploded. Deer browse the recreational areas, parks, parkways, and overgrown
streets and highways. Wild boar root through the underbrush and rabbits pop up
everywhere. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Aslan
hunts these… and me. He has taken to stalking me. I looked up, on the World
Web, what velocity of gun would stop a lion. It was recommended a hunter use a
.350 Riger Mauser. I have a snub-nose .38. I don’t want to take the chance of
just wounding him. That would make him even more dangerous. Instead, I have
become extremely vigilant. He is sneaky and very intelligent. Unlike the dogs,
he climbs and lays in wait for his prey. I watched from a safe distance the
other day as he took down a huge boar. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">One
swipe of his clawed paw and I wouldn’t have to worry about him eating me alive,
I would succumb to the Cull entering my suit from the claw ripped fabric.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">~*~<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">You’re
reading this, so you know I lived through the incident, but it did not turn out
as I expected. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I
was on the last deliveries of the day. It’s an old prison. When the Cull first
hit, they installed some ventilation scrubbers on the roof and threw up some
plastic paneled barriers over each cell entry with a ‘safe box’ for sliding
food through to the prisoners. The halls stayed open to the outside hence
preventing the prisoners from trying to escape as the law enforcement staff
dwindled. Prisoners left at their own risk. Some did try. Others stayed and
continued to live off society.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">As
the prisoners died of natural causes the desperate and homeless started to take
over the cubicles of the safe cells. That was the early days of the Cull. By
the time I started making deliveries the place was full of poor, free folks
that had taken refuge there. The government keeps track of the head count. Some
cells have as many as five people in them. The powers that be send a weekly box
to each cell. They have permanent service personnel who pick up garbage.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">So,
I deliver one hundred and ten packages to the former prison once a week. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I
can’t park as close as I would like for these deliveries. The foliage around
the prison has grown up too high and the authorities see no need to spend money
on maintaining it since they feel they are already going out of their way to
feed what they perceive as rejects of society.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I
park my truck in the drive-up delivery space and make several trips with a full
hand truck back and forth to the building.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I
had just finished the final delivery and came out the door to find Aslan
sitting in the sun between me and my truck. I was hot and sweaty in my suit from
the multiple runs up the stairs that need to be made for this building. He
looked content. Just sitting, licking his paws and cleaning his face.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I
stood for a moment thinking. It wouldn’t do any good to run. I’d seen him take
down prey that was far faster than me in my bulky hazmat suit. I thought a slow
approach with gun at the ready and using the hand truck as a shield might be
the best bet. The roll up door on the back of my truck was open. The bed was
filled with empty boxes. I always offer to take the box from the previous
delivery from my customers. Many don’t have room to store them and they can be
sterilized and reused.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">So,
I figured if I could make it to the truck, I could just dive in and use the
boxes to cushion my fall, slam the door down, and run for it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I
started edging my way toward the truck, giving Aslan a wide birth. He kept
cleaning, but I knew he was watching my every move. I do believe he was playing
with me. Cats do that you know. Play with their food. I’ve seen it on the web.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I
inched forward and he didn’t turn until I made my way out of his peripheral
vision. I was walking backward, keeping the hand truck between him and me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">When
he came to his feet, I raised my gun. When he crouched and started to wiggle
his butt in preparation for pouching, I fired my gun in the air. He jumped like
he had been shot. Obviously, he had never heard gunfire before. I took the
opportunity to pick up the pace and started to run, dragging the hand truck
behind me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Aslan
decided he wasn’t as afraid as he thought he was and started to chase me. I was
gaining on the truck. Just a few more strides and I would be home free. Aslan
lunged. I pushed the hand truck toward him, and it was enough to distract him
for me to jump in the truck. I scrambled to my feet inside, kicking boxes out
as I quickly slammed down the roll-up door. I heard Aslan hit the door. It made
the door boom and rattle loose on its hinges.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I
ran to the front of the truck, started it up, and sped away to a safe distance.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Aslan
didn’t follow. He must not have been used to prey fighting back. Instead, he
decided to investigate the boxes I kicked out. I sat at a distance, in the
safety of the truck, and watched as the cat played in the boxes. Yes, he
played. He rolled on them. He hid behind one to pounce on another. He even
found one big enough he wedged his butt in it. With his head hanging over the
side of the box he gave me a ‘come hither’ look. I found myself smiling at him.
Maybe we could be friends, or at least not enemies.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">He
opened his mouth in a massive yawn, showing off huge fangs. When he closed his jaws,
it was over the edge of the box. For the next thirty minutes he proceeded to
tear the cardboard into palm sized piece. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Friends???
Uh, maybe not…<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgw_Pqry9nu08mLpOlafQGHzJ84b4YXIN_PcnRc9XCe8AbrJqe3RgpfZW98o_zOP4wXtVza_kM1b2O49FmkpvXrPdO757Rlkl3HEeK6c9kl8AOQXLmDoFswhF3bVixGq9-5NtsfX4HmJqmdbiI_DCoygxyWhfaGlgYUmVua4-WIU2oUgXeyVtblwAXjZw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="512" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgw_Pqry9nu08mLpOlafQGHzJ84b4YXIN_PcnRc9XCe8AbrJqe3RgpfZW98o_zOP4wXtVza_kM1b2O49FmkpvXrPdO757Rlkl3HEeK6c9kl8AOQXLmDoFswhF3bVixGq9-5NtsfX4HmJqmdbiI_DCoygxyWhfaGlgYUmVua4-WIU2oUgXeyVtblwAXjZw" width="240" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><br /><br /></span><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-34615364525705198662022-01-03T20:25:00.004-08:002023-01-10T11:57:41.446-08:00Honey the Humble<p>It's been over a year since I posted to this blog. It used to be a weekly post for which I did not fail, but times change and so do people.</p><p>In my last post, November 2020, I explained that my father had a heart attack, but seemed to be recovering. I am so sorry to say, he didn't. He died November 11, 2020, leaving me and the family cat, Watson, in a very lonely and seemly forgotten state.</p><p>Things are a bit better now. We both have worked hard to adjust to our quiet home. The holidays were far better than last year, which seemed inexistent. </p><p>I've had a difficult time getting motivated to write. I am a naturally sociable animal and need that input. The loss of dad, my compromised immune system due to my lungs, and the pandemic make socializing more than difficult. Without it, I find I have very little to interest me in putting fingers to keys and creating.<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>However, I have written a handful of short stories over the past year. I thought that I would begin to share them with you. My intention is to post once a week again. Whether I can follow through on that or not, I cannot say. I will try and commit.</p><p>I hope these stories are thought provoking and in their way entertaining. I've just taken the world a step further down a path I hope we will not end up on in the future.</p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Honey the Humble</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">My father said he named me Honey so
he would always have something sweet in the house. He was born during the first
wave of the Cauldronvirus, or Cull as it is now called. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">The
name of the virus was also appropriate. It burned through our planet’s population
like fire, culling us down to little less than three billion from what was
close to seven and a half billion. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Over
the past ninety-five years we have learned to live with the constant threat of
exposure, but it took us way too long to recognize the danger, hence the deaths
of over half the population. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Today,
we live with it. I grew up with it looming just outside. No open windows or
doors. The virus, which started as a direct contact contagion when my father
was born, became airborne by the time my father was less than a year old. ‘Stay
at Home’ orders from the government were not enough to contain it. If you
wanted to be safe, you quickly equipped your home with an air filtering system,
and you didn’t go outside without a hazmat suit.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">My
grandparent’s generation were scared to let their children out even with hazmat
suits. They remembered their time running free outdoors, and the rough and
tumble childhoods they lived through. They were so afraid their child would
puncture their suit that many refused to buy them. Dad told me he heard stories
about his mother and father’s adventures, but he was never allowed to roam
beyond the walls of this house.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">My
father’s generation never shook hands, never touched. Never kissed unless they
were in the same household. Houses were modified at the front door to have a
‘safe delivery area’ where groceries and other supplies could be dropped off. Most
of the earlier areas were no more than a four-by-four box. Everything in that space
was exposed to a strong ultraviolet light to kill the Cull before the item was
brought into the house. Later there developed a need for larger ‘safe rooms’. They
allowed for the passage of the remains of a victim of the Cull out to the
Disposal Team. My grandparents had both died before I was old enough to know
them. Our household consisted of Dad, Mom and me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">My
father met my mother online. By the time he was in his late teens the internet
was the only way you met people. They courted online. Dad introduced his
parents to her online. After all, if she agreed to marry him, she would move in
with the three of them. Lucky for me she applied for a permit to travel, dawned
her hazmat suit, and made the trip from New York City to Portland Oregon.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I
have lived in this house all my life. In the old day’s dad used to say I would
be cataloged as paranoid… I am afraid to go out into the world even with a
suit. I get my supplies delivered to me through the ‘safe room’. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I
shipped my dad and mom’s body out through the ‘safe room’.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">I
will die and this house will sit empty… deserted… I never found anyone online
to share it with. No one to leave it to. Mother nature will reclaim it as she
has her planet. We are just specks of dust on her surface… for now.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 8.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiKXapMdlefaK8RyeWTGK9tXsCq6tLNQ07gomfQTjKN_deOEtTsoPnutkFF7vRufsPh9aJSdWdL2rDR6eb9S46eF59WZt9VK6U_NEeOoVBXeiPAJEdOUuGA4UK_O1K68k0ac_EAvOtrpmQeDUL1v2im1u2BTxOM3NSnz8d_EKK-DP_ep0fBWZjmydTCGw=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiKXapMdlefaK8RyeWTGK9tXsCq6tLNQ07gomfQTjKN_deOEtTsoPnutkFF7vRufsPh9aJSdWdL2rDR6eb9S46eF59WZt9VK6U_NEeOoVBXeiPAJEdOUuGA4UK_O1K68k0ac_EAvOtrpmQeDUL1v2im1u2BTxOM3NSnz8d_EKK-DP_ep0fBWZjmydTCGw=s320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Watson and I hope you enjoyed "Honey the Humble".</div><br /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-73580782387373058782020-11-02T11:40:00.000-08:002020-11-02T11:40:04.764-08:00Star Trader Update .051<br /><b>I apologize for not posting this past Saturday, but life got in the way of art. My 94 year old father, who lives with me, experienced a heart attack. He is recovering slowly, but it may be a while before I post to the blog again. I hope you will scan through the other stories I have here and find something to keep you busy until I return. </b><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Thank you so much for your readership. I love you all. </b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Once dad and I have established a new routine I will be back with another great story either </b></div><div><b>sci-fi, fantasy or paranormal.</b><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Don't forget to check out my main website for free books and great series.</b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.theresasnyderauthor.com/" target="_blank">Theresa Snyder's Books</a></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Now on with the conclusion of our story...</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>051.01</b><br /> <br /><br />“I was one of the first to hear its call,” Mul’drak told us. “Tal’on was my father’s Great. When I was a youngling. I listened to his tale of Tal’on over and over again.” <br /><br />“So, it was at least three generations between Tal’on’s capture and the Sollen sounding again?” Jake asked. <br /><br />“Yes, and for your humankind, many, many more generation,” Mul’drak said. “You live such short lives.” <br /><br />“When the call came five of us answered. We mistakenly thought five was enough,” the old dragon said and shrugged his shoulders making his wings rise in the process. “We found out later that the Prime passed on the story of the Sollen and its location through his family and political associates as Tal’on and my father had passed it on to us. In fact, the ruling of the Valdare had been retained in the Prime’s family line. When we arrived, we found the Valdare had developed into an advanced technological society with no pity for their own kind, much less ours. <span><a name='more'></a></span><br /><br />“The current Prime sent a small army to wipe out the village where Delevy’s progeny lived and retrieve the Sollen. When we arrived, the village was nothing but an ash heap with troops stationed around it on all sides,” Mul’drak explained. <br /><br />There were tears in the old dragon’s eyes as he started to describe the scene. I noticed Arr was tearing up. I thought he was probably seeing it firsthand from the ‘picture talk’ the dragons used. The young Henu reached over and took my hand. I squeezed it in a comforting way. It must be so overwhelming to have a photographic memory, where you recall each little incident in perfect detail. I often wondered about that, because Jake and Arr fought mission after mission as mercenaries. That was their job. Jake could eventually file away the acts of violence they had to commit, but Arr, where did he tuck those tough pictures away? How did these dragons with so much age manage to handle the burden of their memories? <br /><br />“It was a trap,” Mul’drak snorted. “We should have known. The leader of the human’s stood holding the Sollen and when we appeared, they were ready. Their flying machines had advanced. Their weapons were stronger. I, and my friend Alm’mar, were the only ones who escaped, and we found out later that was only because they let us. Alm’mar roasted the leader and grabbed the Sollen. We jumped!” <br /><br />“And the Valdare followed,” Jake said with a note of realization in his voice. He had been a mercenary all his life. His father was a mercenary before him. He knew how these scenarios played out. <br /><br />“Yes,” Mul’drak confessed. “The Valdare had made listening devices in the space above their planets. They tracked the call of the Sollen as Alm’mar held it in his paw. They pen pointed our home word and followed us here.” <br /><br />“They had very advanced flying machines, much faster than your…” <br /><br />“Pod,” I supplied. <br /><br />“It’s just a transporter,” Jake supplied. “They probably had fighters.” <br /><br />“They were very quick and small, with a much tighter ability to turn. They hid in the rocky cliffs of our mountains and struck and struck again.” Mul’drak went on to explain. “They carried weapons that burned and killed our kin. Our scales were no longer protection for us.” <br /><br />“Lasers,” Arr said through his tears. <br /><br />I was now sure he could see what the old dragon was remembering. <br /><br />“The adults fell from the sky like leaves,” Mul’drak said with a shake of his head. “We were able to keep the troops at bay. Even though they possessed battle armor, it was still not match for tooth, claw and fire. We captured one of their leaders. Under duress, he told us of the new Prime’s plan. They were to kill off all the adult dragons and then capture the younglings. The one’s this size.” He nudged Rudd’ard in the thigh with his muzzle. “They intended to take them home and match them with riders during their stasis in order to form an army which could finally overwhelm their Sandcor enemies.” <br /><br />“Why didn’t they just overtake them with their own advanced weapons?” I asked. It didn’t make any sense to use dragons against lasers. <br /><br />“The Sandcor were no longer an organized army. They were pockets of resistance with less advanced technology,” Rudd’ard started to explain. <br /><br />“Resistance fighters,” Jake supplied. “Guerillas, dug in and hard to root out.” <br /><br />“Terrorists,” Arr added. <br /><br />“Indeed,” Mul’drak agreed. “The Valdare soldier said the stories of Tal’on’s fighting skills with claw, tooth and fire were the nightmares of the Sandcor. Tal’on’s name was used to scare children into submission and made grown men shake their head, even these hundreds of years later. <br /><br />“We could not let our youngling become slaves, yet there was nowhere on this planet to escape from the Valdare,” Mul’drak went on. “Each adult was paired with a hatchling or youngling, or two. Some of the young ones had never been on a ‘jump’ before and many would not make it, but we had to try.” <br /><br />The old dragon took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. “Our best and strongest stayed behind to keep the Valdare at bay. The enemy had determined where the nursery was, here in these caves.” He waved a wing. “The rest of us ‘jumped’ with our charges.” A tear rolled down his cheek. “Many did not make it. Who knows what world they landed in, helpless like Tal’on - probably without the proper stone to fashion a Sollen to call us to their rescue.” <br /><br />Jake and my eyes met. I could tell he had the same thought. Had some of them landed on Earth? Was that where our dragon legends came from? <br /><br />“The Valdare were so angry they left the planet as you see now,” Rudd’ard said, as he stroked his Great’s neck in mutual comfort. <br /><br />“It looks like they nuked it,” Jake offered. “Radiation levels are low now, but it’s been a long time since it happened.” <br /><br />“And the Sollen was left behind?” I asked. It seemed like a very illogical thing to do when they knew they were drawn to it as a species. <br /><br />“Alm’mar hid it as soon as we realized the Valdare followed us. He told one other dragon and they were both killed during the initial fighting with the invaders,” Rudd’ard explained. <br /><br />It seemed that Mul’drak was too lost in his memories to go on. I also noticed Arr was purring again. Trying to calm himself. <br /><br />“No one knew where it was, so we couldn’t take it with us. We thought it destroyed until we heard its call when your parents unearthed it.” Rudd’ard continued to stroke Mul’drak. The old dragon’s wings drooped and he laid his large wedge shaped head in the younger dragon’s lap. “It only sings when you handle it, so the call was short. By the time we arrived. Your parents were gone. We didn’t hear the call again until Arr of the Henu began to play it.” <br /><br />“What will you do with it?” Arr asked. He pulled the Sollen from it place in the pouch at his waist. <br /><br />“We will destroy it.” Graf’tal said with finality. “The Valdare may still have the means to track it when it sings. No more of our kin must die because of its song.” <br /><br />“That’s how they knew we had it on the Opus II,” I said. “When it was given to me, I handled it off and on for a couple of days before I headed out here.” <br /><br />“Destroying it will be the only thing that will finally release our kin from the Valdare,” Rudd’ard said. <br /><br />Jake drew his blaster. “Put it on that stone over there, Arr.” He pointed to one of the large boulders scattered around the cavern floor. <br /><br />Arr, Mul’drak and Rudd’ard’s heads all shot up at one time, turning to face the entrance. <br /><br />“It’s too late,” Arr gasp. <br /><br />“The Valdare at here,” Mul’drak growled. <br /><br /><b>051.02</b> <br /><br />“There are a couple dozen of them setting up a perimeter around the entrance,” Jake announced as he and Arr hurried back up to us in the cavern. “They’re working up their courage to come in.” <br /><br />I was standing beside Rudd’ard. “You should jump.” I said. “Get out of here and as far away as possible.” <br /><br />“We won’t leave you.” Rudd’ard placed his hand on his Great and Graf’tal huffed an affirmation deep in his throat. “They killed your parents because of us. We will see you safely out of here or die trying.” <br /><br />Graf’tal extended his paw toward Arr. “Give me the Sollen,” he ordered. <br /><br />Arr handed it over without question. <br /><br />Graf’tal took it. He placed his claws along its length and dug in. The stone exploded, pulverized into tiny bits. <br /><br />“It all stops here,” the Great said with conviction. <br /><br />“Is there another way out for us?” Jake asked. “Another entrance?” <br /><br />“No.” Rudd’ard shook his head. <br /><br />“Then we need to set up a crossfire,” Jake ordered. He was in his mercenary mode. “Arr, you jump with Rudd’ard and Graf’tal to that rock outcrop we had to maneuver around in order to get here. That will put you behind them.” <br /><br />“He can’t jump,” Rudd’ard said in a tone that verged on panic. “He’ll be lost like Tal’on. Have you not been listening to us the past half turn?” <br /><br />Graf’tal placed his paw on his youngling’s foot. “Quiet,” he said in a soft baritone. “The Henu can picture talk.” <br /><br />Arr must have proved his point because Rudd’ard did grow calmer and then said, “You are very clear,” to Arr. <br /><br />Arr smiled. “I have what the humans call a photographic memory. And somehow I can envision what you and Graf’tal see.” He placed his hand on Rudd’ard’s shoulder. “Jake means this outcrop,” he said. <br /><br />Rudd’ard and Graf’tal both took a deep breath and their eyes closed for a moment as I imagine they all were visualizing the same location. Then Rudd’ard leaped up on the Great’s back. He held a hand down to Arr. Arr grasped it and vaulted up behind the youngling straddling Graf’tal’s shoulders. <br /><br />“We’ll be in place in a few moments,” Rudd’ard said. <br /><br />“We’ll keep in touch through the ears.” Jake tapped his ear bud. We took the precaution of wearing them down. "Safe trip,” Jake smiled up at them. “Don’t get lost,” he warned Arr. “I don’t have time to train a new partner or look for an old one.” <br /><br />Arr gave Jake a lopsided grin. <br /><br />“Picture it,” Graf’tal advised out loud. “Hold on.” <br /><br />Arr closed his eyes and the three of them disappeared. <br /><br />“Damn, that is scary and a half,” I said. <br /><br />“We’re in place,” Arr announced in our ears. <br /><br />“That was fast,” Jake said. “Let’s see if we can lure a few in here.” <br /><br />We both pulled our blasters and headed toward the cave entrance. When we heard some of the Valdare scurrying down the tunnel toward us we took cover in the niches along the wall. <br /><br />“Anytime now,” Jake whispered to Arr in his mike. <br /><br />The next thing we heard was a mighty roar and I swear I could feel the heat from Graf’tal’s flames clear back into the bowels of the tunnel. We ran forward firing as we heard screams and return fire outside. <br /><br />Jake took down two of the Valdare on the way out the entrance. I killed one and injured another. I kicked the equivalent of his blaster out of his reach and continued to follow Jake out. <br /><br />What we saw when we emerged was pandemonium. Arr and Rudd’ard were still on Graf’tal’s back, but Arr was in the front being held firmly by the youngling on the older dragon’s shoulders as he fired at the Valdare below. As the old saying goes, he was taking them out like ‘shooting flatbills in a barrel.’ What he wasn’t hitting, Graf’tal was burning with his dragon’s fire. It was like something out of a space-adventure-gone-fantasy gaming vid. <br /><br />Jake took out two more Valdare close to our location, but they were now hurrying to get to their ship and leave what had become a death trap. <br /><br />As the last of them piled in Graf’tal grabbed the ship with his huge clawed paws and slammed it against the mountainside. He dug in deeper, the metal screaming as it bent or punctured in his grip. He drove it into the mountainside again and again with powerful thrusts of wings and muscled legs. He pulverized the craft. It fell in pieces to the slopes below. <br /><br />Graf’tal landed on the ledge outside the cave entrance and Arr slipped down from his back. <br /><br />The Great shook his head as though clearing it of his angry thoughts. “Will you be alright now?” <br /><br />“We will,” Jake answered for us all. “Thank you.” <br /><br />“I left one still breathing in the tunnel,” I said. <br /><br />Graf’tal started to step forward. He intended to finish the Valdare. <br /><br />I held up my hand. “No, please,” I said. “I need one alive to question. I intend to call a Galactic Official I know, and hopefully get all this straightened out once and for all.” <br /><br />“Then we will be going,” Rudd’ard said. He leaned over and patted Graf’tal on the shoulder. “We hope you find closure for your parent’s death and we thank you for helping us find the same for Tal’on, Delevy, and all our kin and hers.” <br /><br />Graf’tal nudged Arr in the chest with his snout. “You are a very special creature. Stay safe, my friend.” <br /><br />Arr reached up and stroked the old dragon’s muzzle. “You too, Great.” <br /><br />“Ready?” Graf’tal asked. <br /><br />“When you are,” Rudd’ard answered and they disappeared before us. <br /><br />“I wonder if we will ever see them again.” I asked. <br /><br />“Perhaps in our dreams,” Arr said with a smile. <br /><br /><b>051.03</b><br /><br />6 Months Later <br /><br /> <br /><br />Captain Targus had his booted feet up on the edge of the hearth at the pub on Rigal Four. His long legs had his chair pushed clear back into the aisle of traffic from the bar to the seating area, but no one complained. Only an idiot would tell a seven foot, eight inch Walhmite Galactic Forces’ Captain to move. He seemed oblivious of the obstruction he was causing. He yawned and stretched his long arms up only missing another customer by inches. <br /><br />“Fold in your landing gear, Cap” Coal, his C.E. said, reminding his crew mate of his size. <br /><br />“Sorry,” Targus mumbled and pulled his hands back down to his lap, picking up the mug of musklot at his elbow. <br /><br />“Anyway, as I was saying,” Targus went on as he focused back on me. “It’s going to be a long process, but the Galactic Forces is bringing the Valdare up on genocide charges for the attempted extermination of the Drakis, or dragons as you call them.” <br /><br />“The Prime will be charged with giving the order to retrieve the Sollen, but we probably will never know if we got the men that actually killed your parents,” Damion added. He was the medical officer for the three man MT team of #2424. He was also the only human of the team. Damion was a kind soul. I liked all three, but had a special attraction for Damion. <br /><br />I met Targus, Coal, his Realdat computer expert, and Damion a few years ago. They had become friends even though I only bumped into them on occasion. <br /><br />I called them when I had the Valdare from the cavern aboard my ship, and Jake and Arr off loaded. Mercenaries often had to work hand-in-hand with the G.O. The universe was just too big for the G.O. to police it all. Mercenaries like Jake and Arr were helpful assets in a verse full of bad guys. But, G.O. and mercenaries didn’t make it a habit of being buddie-buddies. They usually avoided each other when politely possible. <br /><br />“It is just good to know that justice will eventually come around for everyone,” I said with a sigh. It had been a long time since I felt like taking a deep breath and pushing away from the events that had engulfed my life since my parent’s death. <br /><br />“The thing you call a dragon is called a Vestrag on my planet,” Coal said. “They were an actual beast, but were killed off years ago.” <br /><br />“Earth culture has dragons in many of their myths and legends,” Damion added. <br /><br />“It would help immensely if we could locate the Drakis,” Coal said. “I have done some extensive searches and I can’t find their home planet.” <br /><br />If Coal couldn’t find them, then no one would. He was the best Computer Expert in the fleet. Daniel might have a try for the fun of it, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to sic him on them. The dragons were gone. A part of numerous planets’ history over the millenniums. They had a right to peace and solitude if they wanted it. I was just so pleased I had the chance to meet one. It would be one of those moments that would stick with me until the day I died.<div><br /></div><div><b>The End</b></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-19443885902018631412020-10-24T13:54:00.002-07:002020-10-24T13:54:59.424-07:00Star Trader Update .050<b>050.01</b><br /><br />“Tal’on could not stay away from Delevy,” Mul’drak said. He mantled his wings up over his head stretching them almost to the ceiling of the cave dome. He gave a big yawn, his large pink tongue rolling out its full length. The old dragon smiled wearily and shook his hand. “The young dragon’s bond was too strong. Over the next two years he ‘jumped’ to Delevy’s village often. The town grew to know him and though they did not understand his speech, they grew to enjoy the presence of the young dragon.” <br /><br />“Delevy found she had extended family still living in the village,” Rudd’ard explained. “They and Tal’on helped her build a small home. They built a pole-barn nearby and Tal’on slept there, with Delevy at his side, on his visits during bad weather. But the Valdare’s world was changing. Even though their village was far away and they had kept to themselves, and hence out of the war between their people and the Sandcor, it eventually encroached on their world.” <span><a name='more'></a></span><br /><br />“Without Tal’on’s help, the Valdare were once again even in their fighting strength against the Sandcor. The Prime sent his men out to recruit more men and women to fill the ranks of the ones killed by Tal’on and his kin.” Mul’drak said. “They made it as far as Delevy’s village, but Tal’on was there.” <br /><br />I leaned in closer. By now, I was totally caught up in Tal’on and Delevy’s lives. <br /><br />“Tal’on didn’t think he let any of the recruiting team leave alive, but later, much later, we all found out one of them did escape,” Rudd’ard picked up the story. “He went back and told the Prime that Tal’on and Delevy were in the village. The Prime ordered his teams to stand-down and leave the villagers alone. He had a plan. It was not something he wished to put in play just yet.” <br /><br />“Tal’on was seen as a hero by the villagers. None of them wished to join in the war,” Mul’drak explained. “So time passed and Tal’on continued to visit until the fourth year of his freedom when he came back to the village to find that Delevy had fallen in love with one of her own kind.” <br /><br />“Oh, no,” I breathed. <br /><br />“She was not bonded to Tal’on, as he was to her,” Arr volunteered with a sigh. <br /><br />My Henu friend knew what it felt like to be so closely bonded. His friendship with Jake was very similar to what the dragons were talking about, though not sexual. Arr never thought of being separated from his partner-mentor-friend-brother-father, figure. I had seen it more than once in his blue cat eyes. The sun rose and set for him over Jake’s shoulder. He would never think of leaving his partner. He always looked to him for approval and guidance. <br /><br />“No, she was not,” Rudd’ard added his sigh to Arr’s. “The human heart is open to many ways of loving. She loved Tal’on, but she longed for the closeness of one of her own kind.” <br /><br /><b>050.02</b> <br /><br />Delevy ran from the house to meet Tal’on when he appeared in the yard upon ‘jumping’ in. She threw her arms around his broad chest. He placed his paw behind her back and pulled her in close to him. He loved it when she ran to him. He always felt so needed... desired. His heart rate rose and he felt warm and more content then he ever felt when away from her. <br /><br />Delevy stepped back and smiled. “Tal’on, we have to talk,” she said, as she reached up and patted his shoulder. “Let’s go to your place.” <br /><br />They walked side by side to the building he called home when he visited. He had never been in her home. The doors were too small. In fact, he towered over the house. <br /><br />Delevy rolled the large doors of the pole-barn back to reveal the sweet smell of fresh hay. It was fall and the crops had just been brought in for the winter. The walls were lined with bales of hay clear to the ceiling and there was a generous amount of lose hay laying deep and inviting on the floor, just waiting for him to curl up on it with Delevy. <br /><br />“Why don’t you lay down and we can talk.” <br /><br />Tal’on cocked his wedged head her direction. She was being very mysterious. He wondered if there had been further trouble with the Valdare army. They had not appeared since he initially defended the village and its people. He could feel a touch of fear. No…on second thought, it was more like apprehension from her. He leaned down and nuzzled her neck. <br /><br />“What’s wrong,” he asked. <br /><br />“Sit,” she indicated, as she crawled up on a bench of baled hay. <br /><br />He sat down on his haunches in front of her. He pricked his ears forward. <br /><br />“I am all ears,” he indicated with a smile. <br /><br />She smiled back, but it wasn’t a happy smile, more sad… almost resigned in nature. <br /><br />“You remember Advinn?” she asked. “You met him last time you were here - the furrier from Gulmare?” <br /><br />“Yes,” Tal’on answered. <br /><br />He remembered the big man. He was very muscular from working with draft animals and had fiery red hair that he wore tied back in a leather thong at his neck. Tal’on remembered he was very friendly and laughed a lot. He was surprised to see Tal’on, but not afraid, more interested. He asked a lot of questions. <br /><br />Delevy cleared her throat. “He has moved to the village,” she announced. <br /><br />“That will be good for your people,” Tal’on said, “won’t it?” <br /><br />“Of course,” Delevy agreed. “It is always good to have a man of his talents around.” <br /><br />Silence hung between them. Something was wrong. Tal’on could smell it and almost feel it wafting off of Delevy. <br /><br />“Is there something wrong?” Tal’on asked with a slight rumble to his voice. He didn’t like the feelings he was getting from his love. “Is he bothering you?” He squint his eyes at Delevy. What had Advinn done? Had he tried… Tal’on rose to his feet. “Has he hurt you?” he growled. “I will rip him to shreds!” <br /><br />Delevy jumped to her feet on the bales of hay bringing her eye-to-eye with Tal’on. <br /><br />“No… Not at all,” she cautioned. “He has been a gentleman in all ways.” <br /><br />Talon exhaled and a small trickle of smoke escaped his left nostril. His fire had ignited quickly when he imagined Delevy threatened. He eased back down on his haunches before her. She sat back down on the bales, but then thought better of it and came to stand beside him, her hand on his neck, stroking lightly. He leaned into her touch. <br /><br />“Tal’on? Advinn and I… we’re… we’re in love,” Delevy said softly. <br /><br />Tal’on stiffened under her hand. His head swiveled around on his long neck in order for him to look at her. <br /><br />“What?’ <br /><br />He couldn’t really believe what he heard. He didn’t want to hear her say it again, but he needed to hear it. <br /><br />“We’re going to be married,” she said. <br /><br />Her hand stopped in mid-stroke as Tal’on stood up and moved away from her. <br /><br />“You’re going to mate with him?” Tal’on snorted. <br /><br />A thicker stream of smoke escaped his nostril this time. Delevy knew there was fire behind this one. <br /><br />“The last thing I want to do is hurt you Tal’on, but we can never really be together and Advinn is a good man,” she stepped toward him with her hand out, offering a touch, a stroke. <br /><br />Tal’on backed away toward the still open doors. <br /><br />“Tal’on, please…” Delevy begged. Tears sprung to her eyes. <br /><br />“I have to go,” Tal’on hissed. His red eyes filled with hurt and betrayal. <br /><br />“Don’t,” Delevy pleaded. <br /><br />She stepped forward to try and calm him. She needed to explain. <br /><br />Tal’on disappeared from before her. Only the imprint of his paws on the deep straw remained. <br /><br /><b>050.03</b> <br /><br />I brushed a tear from my cheek. I could hear Arr purring quietly as my side. The young Henu often purred when he was upset. I reached over and threw an arm around his shoulder. He hugged up to me. Jake shook his head at us both. It wasn’t that he was not moved by the story. He was just too butch to let on. He reached over and patted my knee. <br /><br />“What happened after that,” I asked our hosts. <br /><br />“Tal’on’s bond would not let him stay away as much as he would have liked to,” Rudd’ard explained. “He was drawn to Delevy even though she married Advinn and over the years had four children with him, three boys and a girl. Tal’on had to find a way to be satisfied with her love being divided between him, Advinn and the children. In time they all became one family. Tal’on, Delevy and Advinn found a balance. Tal’on and Delevy explained to her new husband what happened in stasis and Advinn was a very understanding human who wanted to see his wife happy. He even wanted to see Tal’on happy. Perhaps it was his knowledge of both the human and animals in his world which gave him a gentle and open heart. <br /><br />“The children helped too. They relieved a bit of the bonding influence on Tal’on, for even though they were not his hatchlings, he was given free reign with them and helped in their raising. When they got old enough he took them all on flights. They were the first of their people to learn to ride dragon-back. They were the envy of all their village friends.” <br /><br />Rudd’ard reached over and stroked Mul’drak’s neck affectionately. <br /><br />“And the years passed. Delevy and Advinn grew older. The children grew and found mates of their own. Tal’on saw Delevy’s children’s, children born and grow to adulthood. But, humans live very short lives compare to our kin. One day Delevy was there, old and wrinkled, but still with her soft strokes of affection, and the next time Tal’on visited she was gone. She had a heart attack and died in Advinn’s arms. She had already been dead two turns when Tal’on arrived.” <br /><br />“He didn’t get to say good bye?” I asked. <br /><br />“No, but he told me he knew she was loved by him. He was happy she was with ones who loved her when she did leave,” Mul’drak added. <br /><br />“What happened to the Sollen when she died?” Arr asked, as he looked at it in his lap. <br /><br />“Advinn and the children had all been told what it was and the significance of it,” Mul’drak explained. “Advinn offered it back to Tal’on. But, Tal’on refused it. On his flights with the children when they were young and then with Delevy’s grandchildren he saw the Valdare presence growing stronger and closer to the small village. He observed their first forays into space - their first efforts to aim satellites at their enemies the Sandcor. He even ripped some of the weapons out of the sky. <br /><br />“A part of Tal’on would always be in that village…with those people. He told Advinn to keep the Sollen and use it if he ever needed it.” <br /><br />“The Sollen passed from hand to hand over many generations of Delevy’s family,” Rudd’ard said, “until one day long after Tal’on passed on to his place in our history. That day the Sollen sang once again, calling us to Valdare.” Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-61549978372732129222020-10-17T11:53:00.000-07:002020-10-17T11:53:35.767-07:00Star Trader Update - .049<b>049.01</b><br /><br />Tal’on paced impatiently in the courtyard. He had not been able to share the cell with Delevy in months. He had grown too much to make it through the door and down the stairs. The Valdare staked him in the courtyard when he was home and brought Delevy up to him in order to keep him pacified and quiet during the days he was free from fighting their war or recovering from injuries inflicted by the same. <br /><br />The jailer, who had become a friend of sorts, was fetching Delevy. Tal’on and Graf’tal landed in the courtyard. The rest of the dragons took up residence on the spires and wall of the building built around the yard. They caught the jailer on his way to take Delevy and his other prisoners dinner. He still did not speak Tal’on’s language, but he understood the young dragon’s demand for his companion. He also noticed right away Tal’on no longer wore the collar which kept him in a submissive state. The jailer hustled down the stairs to release Delevy. <br /><br />“Is you friend coming?” Graf’tal asked. <span><a name='more'></a></span><br /><br />He did not like this confined space Tal’on led them into. It was not as easily defendable. The walls were high and he roared at Bel’lar and the others to keep a close watch. She nodded back agreement and set herself to looking outward from the courtyard rather than in. <br /><br />Tal’on thrashed his tail in agitation over the ground of the courtyard sending dust and dirt into the air around the two dragons. <br /><br />“He is getting her, but he is taking his time about it,” Tal’on hissed. <br /><br />“Could he be warning someone that you have returned?” Graf’tal asked. <br /><br />“Most likely.” Tal’on sat down on his haunches and wiped at his blooded nose. He couldn’t get it to stop. One of the Sandcor had stuck it again. It was the only part of him that was truly venerable and the enemy knew it. They got him there in almost every battle he fought. He had the scars to prove it. The Valdare doctors had taken to gluing his nose injuries shut. Often there was not enough soft tissue to sew together. <br /><br />Graf’tal saw the youngling’s distress both physically and mentally. He advanced and draped a wing over his charge. He huffed over him and when Tal’on looked his direction he gave his nose a healing lick and then another. The blood ceased to trickle and the multiple cuts started to pull themselves together. <br /><br />“Better?” Graf’tal asked. <br /><br />Tal’on did not reply verbally. He was so overwhelmed at having his Great by his side once more that he knew if he spoke, he would cry like a hatchling. He didn’t want to embarrass himself - at least not until they got Delevy safely away. Instead, he leaned into the much larger dragon and rumbled a deep purr of thanks. <br /><br /> <br /><br />Delevy burst through the doors with the jailer close on her tail. She would have run into Tal’on’s paws, but when she saw the other massive dragon and then the additional four high on the wall, she pulled up short, unsure of herself. <br /><br />“Tal’on?” she queried. <br /><br />“It is all right,” he assured her, coming to his feet and moving forward. <br /><br />She trusted him totally. With his assurance she ran to him, launching herself at his chest with open arms. He clasped her behind the back with a huge red paw and cradled her to him. <br /><br />“I have been so worried about you. You have been gone so long.” <br /><br />Her muffled speech came to Graf’tal’s ears, but he did not understand a word of it. <br /><br />“What is she saying?” the Great asked his student. <br /><br />“She’s happy to see me,” Tal’on answered over her head. <br /><br />“I can see that much,” Graf’tal snorted. “Get her to mount. We must leave, quickly,” the old dragon urged. <br /><br />“We can’t leave until I remove her collar,” Tal’on explained. “We were told they have an explosive device in them.” <br /><br />“So that is how they tricked you into fighting.” The old dragon said under his breath. His experiences with humans had never gone well in the past. He was always thankful there were no humans to deal with on Drakis. <br /><br />Tal’on pulled Delevy back away from him so he could look down on her to remove her collar. He carefully hooked a claw under it. Delevy reached up with both hands and grasped his paw. <br /><br />“What are you doing?” She demanded in a frightened voice. <br /><br />“I am going to remove it. Graf’tal removed mine and nothing happened,” Tal’on explained. “It’s all right. We will remove it and then I am going to get you out of here.” <br /><br />Delevy still held onto his paw, doubt reflected in her eyes, yet, she could see that Tal’on no longer wore his restrictive collar. She slowly released her grip and closed her bright green eyes ready for whatever fate awaited her at the hands of her young dragon. For that was how she felt about him. He was hers and she was his. She had grown to understand him, respect him, and care for him. No, that was not right, she did more than care for him. She loved him. <br /><br />She felt a slight tug, but at almost the same instance she heard the Prime’s voice over the loudspeaker in the courtyard. <br /><br />“I would not do that if I were you. Not if you intend to keep her alive,” he warned in a commanding voice. <br /><br />Delevy’s eyes snapped open to see all the dragon’s heads looking toward the control booth where the Prime often issued his orders to Tal’on before having the jailer drag her back down to her cell to await his return from battle. <br /><br />The Prime held the control to their collars in his hand as he always did while giving orders. The jailer must have called him before he came to release Delevy. She shot the man a nasty look, but it was tempered with understanding. He would be the one left behind. It would be the jailer the Prime would take his anger out on when the weapon which was winning him his war escaped. <br /><br />“I see you have removed your collar,” the Prime went on. “It makes no difference. You will do as I say or I will not hesitate to kill her.” He fingered the button, rolling his thumb around the edge of the detonation device. <br /><br />“Tal’on?” Graf’tal hissed. The Great had a picture projected into his mind from Bel’lar on the wall of masses of troops headed their way. “We must leave.” The older dragon could not understand. However, he could see Tal’on and the man on the wall were in a standoff over the female, but they needed to move. <br /><br />“It is over,” Tal’on hissed at the Prime. “My friends have come to get me and we have laid waste to your troops who accompanied me into battle. Not one remains alive.” <br /><br />“I have other troops, other men loyal to our cause,” the Prime countered without a blink of his eye for the loss of his men. “You will continue to fight. We have almost won.” He was triumphant even in his defeat. <br /><br />“I will Not!” Tal’on shouted at him. “And if you do not release Delevy my friends and I will lay waste to this city. We will burn it and your people to the ground.” <br /><br />The Prime hesitated, but he was still fingering the detonation device. With a single push of the button Delevy’s life could come to an end. Tal’on reached into his armor and pulled out the Sollen. He held it up for the Prime to see. <br /><br />“I made this to call my friends. Only five responded to my call because they did not know they would encounter resistance in bringing me back,” Tal’on explained. “I can call more!” He threatened. “I could bring all my kin here to destroy you. If only five can kill all your best trained Soldiers imagine the havoc hundred’s of my kin could do to this planet. We could turn the tide of war. The Valdare could become a people only remembered in the history books of the Sandcor.” <br /><br />Tal’on had no idea the thoughts which were spinning through the mind of the Prime. He did not envision dragon invaders killing his troops, but rather an army of dragons fighting his war, killing Sandcor, allowing his people, the Valdare, to be victorious. He need only obtain the ‘call’ Tal’on held in his paw, set the trap and activate the device. He could capture and recruit them all - perhaps not now, but in the future. It could happen. It would happen. The options available in order to make it all happen raced through the Prime’s mind as he came to his decision. <br /><br />“Take her,” he relented. “Take her and go.” <br /><br />Tal’on hooked his claw under Delevy’s collar and slit it in two. They were free for the first time in years. <br /><br />“Order your troops to stand down,” Tal’on said in triumph. He had no idea what the future would bring down upon his kin. He thought he won. <br /><br />The Prime gave the order. <br /><br />Tal’on extended a wing and Delevy crawled on his back throwing her legs around his neck over his shoulder. <br /><br />“Hold on,” Tal’on ordered his companion, as he slipped the Sollen back in his pouch. <br /><br />He took two mighty leaps forward, his hind legs bent lower with each bound, than he launched himself up into the air. The other dragons followed. They winged their way over the city without any resistance to their escape. <br /><br />Delevy lay stretched out on the arch of Tal’on’s neck, her arms wrapped tightly around him. She laughed into the wind at the exhilaration of flight and he laughed with her. It was just like his dreams. They were free at last! <br /><br /><b>049.02</b> <br /><br />Cras’mul and Haf’nad the two golden dragons who accompanied Graf’tal to retrieved Tal’on landed in the meadow joining the other four dragons and Delevy. <br /><br />“There is a village ahead as Delevy indicated. It is perhaps one hundred wing strokes from here,” Cras’mul announced as he landed in front of the others with Haf’nad at his side. <br /><br />“You’re sure they will accept you and give you shelter?” Graf’tal asked Delevy. <br /><br />It had already been established that Delevy could understand them, but only Tal’on seemed to possess the power to understand her. <br /><br />She nodded her head at the dragon Tal’on referred to as his ‘Great.’ <br /><br />“They are my mother’s people,” Delevy explained. “I have never been out of the city, but she often spoke fondly of the family she left behind and her people. I am sure I will be welcome. The only reason she left was she fell in love with father. He was a traveling merchant and his business led them to the city.” <br /><br />“I wish you could come with us,” Tal’on lamented yet again. <br /><br />He collapsed, sitting down on his haunches in defeat. <br /><br />“We’ve already been over this, Tal’on.” Delevy sighed and took his head in her arms cradling it against her chest. She ran her hand along his jaw and ended the stroke by gently scratching him under the chin. “I can’t do your ‘picture talk.’ We have tried over and over. All it does is give me a raging headache.” <br /><br />Graf’tal waited until the female was finished speaking and then uttered once more, “She can’t come if she can’t see.” <br /><br />The Great could feel his young charges’ pain. It was a cross species love the two formed over the years Tal’on was separated from his own kin. It was something unexplainable that happened during stasis which brought their hearts and minds together. It would not be easy to separate them. But, the youngling could not stay. The impossibility of that had already been proven. It was a danger to both of them. <br /><br />Bel’lar and Ere’lee looked on. Ere’lee placed a loving wing over Bel’lar. They were a heart bonded pair. They had an idea of what Tal’on was going through. If he truly bonded with the human then being separated from her would feel as though one of his wings had been severed. Bel’lar and Ere’lee were never far from each other’s side. Only the birth of a hatchling allowed a bonded pair a bit more freedom because nature made it so. It allowed one of them to hunt for the family while the other tended the young, but there would be no chance of a hatchling to ease Tal’on’s pain. <br /><br />Bel’lar slipped from under her mate’s wing and went to Graf’tal’s side. The old male had never had a mate. He could not relate to what his young charge was going through except in concept. His only thought was for Tal’on’s safety. He wanted to push to get them away from this place and its danger to his charge. <br /><br />“Let them have the rest of this evening together,” Bel’lar coached softly in Graf’tal ear. “Tomorrow morning we can see her safely to the village and be away.” She nuzzled the old Great’s neck. “They need time to say their good-byes.” <br /><br />Graf’tal sighed heavily. He wished to be away from this place, but he could see Bel’lar was right. The youngling had gotten himself in a terrible fix, one his Great could not help him through. <br /><br />“We will rest here for the remainder of the night,” Graf’tal announced looking up at the double moons in the night sky. “Tomorrow we will see Delevy to her new home and safety.” <br /><br />The five dragons moved away from the couple. Bel’lar and Erelee found a sheltered spot and curled up together, wings and tails wrapped over one another as though they wished to be one being. Cras’mal and Haf’nad curled up under the trees at the edge of the meadow. Graf’tal appointed himself first watch in order to keep them all safe and give himself time to think about what he must do to help his young charge through this trial. <br /><br /> <br /><br />Tal’on laid down in the grassy meadow and pulled Delevy to his chest. They lay as they had so many nights before. She curled up in the croak of his front legs, stroking the scales of his leg and paws. Her touch was so soothing. Tal’on could not imagine being without it. They did not sleep. They did not speak. They huddled in desperation against each other as soft tears flowed down both their cheeks. <br /><br />“I want you to take the Sollen,” Tal’on finally said, as dawn began to crest over the tree tops and they were still awake. <br /><br />He pulled the stone from its place in the pouch of his armor and handed it to her. <br /><br />“If you ever need me,” he said in a choked voice, “you need only hold it and I will hear. I will come to you.” <br /><br />He nuzzled her and purred softly. Delevy stroked the large stiff plates of his chest. She knew they felt hard, but it did not stop him from feeling her need, her desire to be close to him. She placed the Sollen in the pouch at her waist. She leaned her head against his chest. She could hear his massive heart, feel the rise and fall of his breath. She sighed deeply and then matched her breathing to his. They were one. They would always be one, no matter how far apart they were. She would always love him. <br /><br />Tal’on’s purr grew deeper. His heart was breaking. He did not want to leave, but as Graf’tal pointed out to him privately, leaving was the only option. If he stayed he only put Delevy in more danger. She would never have been in this situation without his presence. <br /><br />“It is time to go,” Graf’tal announced, as he rose to his feet at the edge of the meadow. <br /><br />It was not a verbal announcement. It was projected to Tal’on in his thoughts. The young dragon nudged Delevy as the other dragons, who also received the old Great’s picture, rose to their feet. <br /><br />“We have to go,” he said softly. “It’s time.” <br /><br />Delevy rose, adjusting her tunic in order to give herself something to do with her hands rather than reaching out in desperation to her dragon. Tal’on extended a wing and she mounted. There was no laughter this time as they flew toward the village. Tal’on only felt the unrelenting grip of his loved one around his neck as he flew the last few wing beats to her mother’s village. <br /><br />The villagers were frightened and hid in their homes at the arrival of the six dragons at the edge of their hamlet. They only ventured out when they saw Delevy dismount and hug Tal’on, reluctant to let him leave. <br /><br />“I will come back to check on you,” Tal’on informed her. He had decided overnight he could not possibly part from her permanently. He would have to return. He would have to see her again, feel her touch, smell her hair, see her smile. <br /><br />“I will be waiting,” Delevy said. She smiled trying to be brave when all she felt was despair. <br /><br />Tal’on lowered his head to her chest for one last hug – one last embrace. When Delevy pulled his head down to cuddle it, he placed his paw behind her back and pulled her in close. He huffed into her trying to give her comfort, and him strength, for what was coming. <br /><br />When she released him, he stepped back joining his kin. Large tears streaked his cheeks, but he gave her a toothly grin trying to reinforce their decision to part. Unexpectedly, he threw back his head and gave out a deafening, pain-filled roar. <br /><br />In the blink of an eye Delevy stood alone at the edge of the village staring at the empty field where her dragon, her love, had just stood a moment before. She fell to her knees and buried her head in her hands, and cried. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-11970967385491626622020-10-10T14:02:00.000-07:002020-10-10T14:02:02.690-07:00Star Trader Update .048<b>048.01</b><br /><br />Tal’on lay on his belly with Delevy curled up against his chest in the crook of his front leg. She had finally fallen asleep. <br /><br />After he surrendered in the stadium, the Prime revealed many things from the safety of his perch in the box overhead. He explained that the collars they both wore had tracking devices built into them and if they were to try and remove them, they also had an explosive device in them that would be activated and no doubt decapitate them. <br /><br />Tal’on did some snarling and growling at this point, but the Prime calmed him by threatening to activate the explosive device in Delevy’s collar if he did not behave. The guards escorted them back down here to his cell. The good thing was he now knew where he was and the way out should he chose to leave. He had no doubt he could knock down the cell door and escape. The question was could he do it with Delevy and not get him or her killed in the process. And, how far did they have to be from the Prime and his detonation device before they were safe? Or was there a safe distance? <span><a name='more'></a></span><br /><br />Tal’on rolled the Sollen in his free paw, the one not holding Delevy. He might be able to ‘jump’ out, but he was not sure if he could take Delevy with him. Could someone other than his kind accomplish a jump safely, or would she be ripped from him as he had been from Graf’tal? Could he risk it? He didn’t think so. <br /><br />Delevy frowned and mumbled in her sleep. He gave her a comforting squeeze and puffed his breath into her hair. With a smile, she curled toward his chest and settled down again. The breath of Tillzar seemed to have the same comforting effect on Delevy as it did on the hatchlings at home. Tal’on had thought it demeaning to have hatchling duty, but now he was pleased he had and knew how to sooth his friend. <br /><br />His friend was now his cellmate and the turn of events which brought her to this point was difficult for her to understand. Her people had turned against her, used her, and then discarded her. <br /><br />He huffed over her again. She reached up and absently stroked his breastplate. <br /><br />He nuzzled her hair and chuffed softly. Tal’on’s eyes closed. In his mind he drifted, sailing quietly through the clouds with Delevy on his back. She lay flat over the arch of his neck and laughed as she hugged him tightly in her excitement. <br /><br />The sound of the head jailer brought Tal’on up out of his revelry. The man had stopped outside the cell door and stood studying them as he absently jiggled his keys on their chain at his belt. <br /><br />“I’d let you out,” he whispered, “but it wouldn’t do you any good. The Prime would kill you both rather than have you fall into the Sandcor’s hands.” He nodded toward Delevy still sleeping in his paws. “It ain’t right, what he did. She did all he asked of her and he still turned on her.” He shook his head in disgust. “She deserves better.” The man frowned. “I’ll bring you both some dinner soon.” <br /><br />He turned and left. No need to stay. He couldn’t understand Tal’on anyway. Only Delevy could hear him and make since of what he said. <br /><br />Tal’on looked down at the woman in his arms. He had to admit it. He loved Delevy. He could not risk losing her. <br /><br />He stoked his fire glands and breathed a jet of fire onto the Sollen in his paw. It sang. It sang softly, but louder than it had yesterday. He would continue to try. He had to make contact. He needed help before the Valdare Prime could push him into battle with the Sandcor. <br /><br /><b>048.02</b><br /><br />“Tal’on was impressionable,” Rudd’ard explained to us. “He was young and very homesick.” <br /><br />“When Valdare Prime threatened Delevy, Tal’on went to war for them,” Mul’drak added. “He became a death that descended on the Sandcor and could not be stopped.” <br /><br />Rudd’ard leaned over and refilled our bowls. “His scales protected him from most of the Sandcor’s weapons, but to be sure, the Prime had a suit of armor built for him. The Valdare were experimenting with metals for their space craft. They made Tal’on’s armor from that material. It was light weight and did not impede his flight. He was almost indestructible. <br /><br />“The Valdare began to make headway against the Sandcor for the first time in the history of many generations. Sandcor people and lands fell before Tal’on and the Valdare troops who followed him into battle.” Rudd’ard shook his wedged head. “He was death on wings, which the Sandcor learned to run from rather than fight.” <br /><br />“So he did learn to fly?” I asked. <br /><br />“Flying is like breathing to our kind. He merely needed to have the opportunity and it became so.” Mul’drak said. “In fact, he became an exceptional flier, learning to dodge the weapons of the enemy.” <br /><br />“And he never tried to ‘jump’ home?” Arr asked. <br /><br />“He would not leave Delevy,” Rudd’ard sighed. “The bonding they experienced during his stasis was too strong and his love for her too deep.” <br /><br />“But he kept working on the Sollen,” Jake said. <br /><br />“Indeed,” Rudd’ard and Mul’drak confirmed almost in unison. <br /><br />Rudd’ard patted the older dragon’s head and Mul’drak licked his hand affectionately. <br /><br />“Delevy talked their jailer into bringing her a needle and thread. She tore off a bit of her garment and fashioned a pocket on the underside of Tal’on’s armor for the Sollen to be kept safe next to his heart,” Rudd’ard explained. “Even when he was away on long campaigns he had it with him and he was able to work the stone each night, and each night it grew stronger. <br /><br />“Until finally one day, in the midst of a battle between Valdare and Sandcor, Graf’tal and five other dragons answered the Sollen’s call.” <br /><br /><b>048.03</b><br /><br />Tal’on was being assaulted from all sides on the battlefield. Sandcor troops surrounded him. They were doing their best to overwhelm the young dragon with numbers, because it was obvious their weapons were of little use to them. The ground shook beneath the dragon’s feet with the explosions of their extensive arsenal. Smoke and dirt was thick enough in the air it made it difficult to breathe. <br /><br />Tal’on was fighting one of the most violent battles of his short career with the Valdare. The Sandcor were making a final stand in the valley before the canyon, which led into their capital. They were determined to stop the monster once and for all. They charged at Tal’on as he fought tooth and claw against them. A swipe of his paw and three men fell before him. A sweep of his wing and several more challengers were knocked to the ground. He was relentless as the Sandcor continued to pile up on him. They had formed a battle line against the Valdare, so they could not assist their ‘number one’ weapon, Tal’on. <br /><br />Tal’on readied his fire glands, but the Sandcor had met him in battle before. They knew about his fire breathing ability and they were ready this time. They launched several heavy metal nets at his head. One fell short, one Tal’on swiped out of the air, but the third, from behind him, fell over his head. Brave Sandcor Soldiers rushed forward and grabbed the lines from the net pulling Tal’on’s head down. Before he could resist his muzzle was wrapped and sealed shut. <br /><br />As hard as Tal’on fought there were too many of the Sandcor. They swarmed over him like ants over a dead carcass. Lines were thrown over him and the ends staked down, pinning him to the ground. <br /><br />It was at this point that Graf’tal, Ere’lee, Bel’lar, Cras’mul and Haf’nad appeared at the edge of the battlefield. The five dragons were all old enough, and well traveled enough, to know what humans were and recognize what was happening. <br /><br />They saw what they could hardly recognize as Tal’on in the middle of the field. Over his long absence from his kin he had not only experienced stasis, he had also matured into a full grown dragon. But, he was a dragon in trouble. <br /><br />The five older dragons did not know the difference between Valdare and Sandcor. They only knew they had finally found Tal’on and they intended to take him home. With fire, claws and teeth they barged into the battle to free the young dragon. They killed everyone who came between the youngling and them. <br /><br />Tal’on saw his fellow dragons and would have called to them except his muzzle was sealed shut with the net tightly wrapped around it. His eyes filled with grateful tears as he saw Graf’tal level a path to his side. His huge paws and wings took out lines of both Valdare and Sandcor troops as he bullied his way to his youngling’s side. <br /><br />Graf’tal was the first to reach Tal’on. His massive claws sliced through the ropes that held Tal’on to the ground. He plowed through the Sandcor hanging from the lines holding the net in place over the young dragon’s head. He freed his head of the net with strategically placed tooth and claw. Graf’tal did not know the collar Tal’on wore was not part of the enemy’s restraint, so he took his massive, wickedly sharp claws, hooked them under the collar and slit it in two. Tal’on had not even tried to do this for fear of it exploding or the Prime taking vengeance on Delevy if he tried. Now it was done in a moment with no turning back. <br /><br />“We must go,” Graf’tal called to Tal’on. “We will jump with you.” Graf’tal roared to the other dragons to follow. “Jump.” <br /><br />Tal’on shook his head even as he reached out to kill yet another Sandcor who still chose battle over retreat. <br /><br />“I can’t,” he told his Great. “There is someone here I must see safely free first.” <br /><br />“Where are they?” Graf’tal asked, as he stood among the many dead and dying troops. <br /><br />The other dragons had wreaked havoc while Graf’tal freed his youngling. The battlefield ran red with the blood of both Valdare and Sandcor. <br /><br />“Not far,” Tal’on said. “We can fly there in less time than it would take to get from the nest site to the shore at home. <br /><br />“Then we can jump even quicker,” Graf’tal answered. “We are leaving,” he called to the other dragons. “Tal’on will lead.” <br /><br />“I haven’t jumped since I saw you last,” Tal’on said hesitantly. “I am not sure I can.” <br /><br />“Of course you can,” Graf’tal scoffed. “You were one of my best jump students.” <br /><br />He placed a reassuring wing over Tal’on’s battered scales. The youngling was a mess even though he wore some type of protective gear over his torso. <br /><br />“Think of the place where you want to be,” he coached. “Picture it and we will follow.” <br /><br />“I don’t want to get lost again.” <br /><br />Tal’on could almost hear the fear in his own voice. He finally had his Great once more at his side. He was going to go home. He was going to be able to leave this wretched place. He didn’t want to misstep. <br /><br />“I won’t let you, my son,” Graf’tal said. “I am here, at your side. Nothing will separate us again.” <br /><br />Tal’on swallowed the lump in his throat. He pictured the courtyard at the top of the steps which led to the cell below holding Delevy and he jumped. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-80137074396053733462020-10-03T17:58:00.007-07:002020-10-03T17:58:56.966-07:00Star Trader Update .047<b>047.01</b><br /><br /> <br /><br />When Delevy left that afternoon, Tal’on went to the wall to retrieve the Sollen. He smiled to himself as he extended a claw to pry it from its hiding place. He had not paid attention where he was throwing his fire earlier and it hit the Sollen. Now as he flicked it into his paw with one long claw it not only vibrated, but it sang. It sang softly, but it sang. He tilted his wedge shaped head and studied it. Could it have been the blast of dragon fire? It had to be. He had done nothing different to it. <br /><br />Perhaps he only needed to hit it a few more times before it would be loud enough for Graf’tal to hear and come for him. <br /><br />Provided he had not jumped too far. <br /><br />He couldn’t have. <br /><br />He had to be within hearing range. <span><a name='more'></a></span><br /><br /> <br /><b>047.02</b> <br /><br /> <br /><br />Delevy came in the cell with his dinner sometime later. She was trailed by two servants carrying trays of meat. Beyond the smell of the roasted flesh Tal’on could smell something else. Something he was not familiar with. The servants placed the trays before the dragon and hurried out. <br /><br />“What is wrong, Delevy?” He asked after they were out of earshot. <br /><br />“Nothing. Why?” She asked in return. <br /><br />“Something is not right,” Tal’on laid back his ears and sniffed at the meat. <br /><br />“It’s dinner as usual,” she lied. <br /><br />He didn’t know exactly what was going on. He had not learned how to smell deceit yet. He lowered his head and took a mouthful of meat. As soon as the roast hit his stomach he began to feel dizzy. <br /><br />“What have you done?” He asked in a voice that was already becoming slurred. <br /><br />Delevy came up to him and placed her hands under his head as his legs buckled and he went down to the floor. She eased his head down gently. <br /><br />“Only what I was ordered to do,” she said softly. “I am so sorry.” <br /><br />There was not going to be any escape. <br /><br /><b>047.03</b> <br /><br />Tal’on was awakened by the sun assaulting his eyelids. He had to squint when he opened them, it was that bright. How long had it been since the sun caressed his scales? <br /><br />“I am so sorry,” Delevy said. <br /><br />He realized his head was lying in her lap. When he looked up above her concerned face he could see they were in just another type of cage. This one had a huge barred dome high above their heads. He lifted his head and it swam away in a dizzying wave of images. He heard a roar of voices and the sharp clapping of thousands of hands. <br /><br />“What’s happening?” He asked Delevy, as his eyes began to focus. <br /><br />Above the domed cage there was a series of tiered seating that ran all around the edge looking down at them in the bottom of a round walled dirt field. <br /><br />“I am so sorry. They made me do it.” Tears welled up in his friend’s eyes. “If I didn’t drug you, the Prime was going to order you killed.” <br /><br />Tal’on rolled out of Delevy’s lap and onto his knees. Another roar went up from the crowd. <br /><br />“We’re in the stadium,” Delevy explained. “They are going to pit you against the Sandcor prisoners.” <br /><br />Tal’on’s head had stopped swimming. He rose to his feet. <br /><br />The crowd went wild. Drums began to pound and horns sounded. The people in the stands stomped their feet in rhythm to the drums until there was a deafening rumble Tal’on could feel in his chest. He looked up around him to see hundreds of the Valdare surrounding them, waving blood red flags with some sort of silver emblem on them. <br /><br />“I will not fight!” Tal’on snarled. “Tell them!” He ordered Delevy, but when he looked down at her he saw she was still sitting. <br /><br />She wore a collar made of some sort of metal like the bars above their head, but shiny and lit with a red and a green light on either side of the clasp. The collar had a chain which ran to a post embedded in the middle of the field of ground Delevy had called the stadium. When Delevy came to her feet he could see that she had only about six feet on the length of the chain. <br /><br />“They won’t listen. You will fight or you will die.” She hung her head as though it were her fault he was in this predicament. <br /><br />He extended a paw and cupped it under her chin. “None of this is your doing,” he said. His voice could barely be heard above the drums and the crowd. “You have been nothing but kind to me.” He hooked a claw under her collar and tested the strength of it. <br /><br />“You have one too,” she pointed out. <br /><br />Sure enough, when he put his paw to his throat he could feel the wide metal collar encircling his neck. He tugged on it. It was not coming off without a lot of effort. <br /><br />The horns sounded a trill and the crowd fell silent. <br /><br />“I know you can understand me,” the Prime said over a loudspeaker. <br /><br />Tal’on raised his head to look for the man who had become his enemy by bringing them to this place. He found him directly in front of Delevy in an enclosed booth above the barred dome. He was seated with the rest of his counselors, his staff and guards. A smile touched the corner of his lips. <br /><br />“Jailer Delevy tells me you refuse to fight the Sandcor on our behalf. I am here to persuade you differently. Bring out the prisoners!” He ordered. <br /><br />A door opened into the stadium below the Prime and several guards ushered in six Sandcor prisoners. The guards carried the pain sticks Tal’on was so familiar with. The prisoners all wore collars similar to the ones Delevy and he wore. The guards laid down their weapons and quickly retreated back through the door, closing it behind them. <br /><br />“You may not fight to save yourself,” the Prime said, “but I am willing to bet, you will fight to save your jailer.” His smile lifted into a wicked grin. He addressed the Sandcor prisoners. “The first man to kill the woman will be taken to the edge of the Valdare lands and given his freedom.” <br /><br />The prisoners dove for the weapons the guards left behind. They spread out and immediately began to advance on Tal’on and Delevy. <br /><br />Delevy frantically began to yank at the chain that held her captive. Tal’on grasped it with one huge paw and tugged hard. It broke off at the post. The crowd roared their amazement. <br /><br />“Stay behind me,” he told her. <br /><br />He pushed her back toward the far wall. He didn’t want to let the Sandcor behind them. They were moving like a well trained fighting team. The crowd had begun to holler again, yelling encouragement at the prisoners even though they were supposedly their arch enemies. <br /><br />Tal’on instinctively spread his wings and roared his anger at the advancing Sandcor. The crowd fell silent and the prisoners took a step backward. <br /><br />“Stay here!” Tal’on ordered. “I’m going up.” <br /><br />Tal’on flapped his wings once, then twice. It gave him the lift he needed to grasp the barred dome just above the wall at the edge of the crowd. The Sandcor fell back further. The crowd yelled and screamed in fright as they scrambled away from the bars. Tal’on yanked and gnawed at the bars as the people fell over the seats and themselves in order to get away from the angry beast. <br /><br />“Tal’on!” Delevy screamed behind him. <br /><br />He turned to find her surrounded by the advancing Sandcor. She was fending them off by swinging the chain attached to her collar. <br /><br />Tal’on took a deep breath. When he exhaled he spit a stream of fire between Delevy and the Sandcor. The Sandcor fell back in a frantic attempt to beat each other to the door they originally came through. The crowd instantly went quiet, only to erupt into mayhem as they realized the beast’s reach was not limited by the bars that kept it prisoner. <br /><br />Tal’on caught a glimpse of the Prime’s startled expression before he shot a stream of fire at the Prime’s booth. The glass surrounding the booth saved the leader’s life, but his guard hustled him out before the beast could test its strength any further. <br /><br />Tal’on turned his attention back to the bars. He was still gnawing and tugging when he heard Delevy scream. He glanced over his shoulder to see Valdare Soldiers subduing Delevy. He roared as he dropped down from the bars to his feet on the stadium floor. His ears were laid back in anger, smoke curled from his nostrils. These were either very brave or very stupid men. He advanced on them wings tucked tightly to his sides. <br /><br />“Stay back or my men will kill her,” the Prime shouted from the safety of his booth above. He had returned. <br /><br />The crowd had left the stands screaming. It was just the Prime, his men, Delevy and Tal’on. The guard holding Delevy dwarfed her small frame and held a wicked looking knife to her throat. <br /><br />“Run…” Delevy yelled. “Fly…” <br /><br />Tal’on looked at the bars above his head. In time, he might be able to work his way through them. He had created a hole big enough for his muzzle in the short time he had been at it, but if he did try to run now, there would be blood before he managed an escape. And there was the question of what to do once he was free. The Sollen he set so much store in getting him rescued was still back in his cell. Would there be stone outside these walls with which he could fashion another? There really was no choice in what action to take. He could not…would not…allow Delevy to be hurt. He and the Prime both knew that.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-54634369987295551852020-09-27T14:03:00.004-07:002020-09-27T14:03:31.957-07:00Star Trader Update .046<b>046.01</b><br /> <br /><br />The Prime stood before Tal’on dressed in his official military garb. His chest was covered with metals. His three cornered hat sat jauntily on an angle. Though his guard protectively surrounded him, he wore his ornamental saber on one hip and his blaster on the other. He was further equipped with one of the pain sticks Tal’on had become so familiar with in the past when confronted with the Prime’s guard. <br /><br />“Delevy tells me you can understand and speak our language now,” the Prime said as he tapped the end of the pain stick against his tall black boot tops in an intimidating way. <br /><br />“I can,” Tal’on answered. <span><a name='more'></a></span><br /><br />The Prime looked first at Delevy, and then at Tal’on, and back at Delevy. <br /><br />“I thought you said the beast could communicate,” he said in an irritated tone. <br /><br />“He can,” Delevy said. “He answered you.” <br /><br />“I heard nothing, but a rumbling growl,” the Prime informed them. <br /><br />How could this be? Thought Tal’on. <br /><br />Tal’on and Delevy exchanged glances. <br /><br />“Perhaps it is because you were with me during the change,” Tal’on said. “I know very little of what happens. The Greats do not tell us for fear of frightening us.” <br /><br />“What is he saying?” the Prime demanded of Delevy. <br /><br />Delevy bowed to the ruler. “He believes he can understand us because of something that happened during his change into this form.” She waved her hand to indicate his new larger frame and wings. <br /><br />“Well, you certainly did not change,” the Prime said in frustration. He whacked the pain stick against his boot in growing irritation. “How is it you can understand him and I cannot.” <br /><br />“Once again I think it is because you were with me during the stasis,” Tal’on said to Delevy. <br /><br />“This is impossible!” The Prime shouted in growing anger. “I want to see you in my chamber, Keeper. Immediately!” He ordered. <br /><br />He spun on his heel and retreated with his guard gathered about him like hatchlings about the head dragoness. <br /><br />Delevy reached up and patted Tal’on on the shoulder. “I will be back as soon as I can.” She looked anxiously after the Prime. <br /><br />“I tried to talk to him,” Tal’on apologized. “You heard me.” <br /><br />“It will be all right,” Delevy counseled. <br /><br />“Tell him I want to go home,” Tal’on said. “Tell him I need to go home.” <br /><br />“I will,” Delevy promised. “I promise, I will.” <br /><br />She gave Tal’on one last reassuring pat and ran after the Prime. <br /><br />Tal’on watched her go, heard her close the door and lock it. He went to the wall and removed the piece of stone he had been working from its hiding place. The blue rock was almost the right shape. He tried to picture what Graf’tal showed him years ago when he first became his Great. The Sollen Graf’tal let him hold was this size and shape. He told him it would summons any dragon within hearing range. But, though this Sollen vibrated in Tal’on’s paw, it did not give off any sound. Something was wrong with it. Tal’on did not know what more to do to it to get it to work. What sort of magic was instilled in Graf’tal’s old Sollen that Tal’on did not possess or even know? Would he ever get home? <br /><br /> <br /><br /><b>046.02</b><br /><br />“You will train the beast!” the Prime ordered. “If he did not come from the Sandcor then we shall turn him on them.” <br /><br />“His is not a beast to be train, my Prime,” Delevy tried to explain once again. “He is a thinking, reasoning being. Why would he fight on our side if he does not even come from here? He has no stake in our war.” <br /><br />The Prime came from around his desk and grasp Delevy’s chin in his powerful hand. He raised her head so she could look into his angry, dark eyes. <br /><br />“He has become quite close to you,” the Prime hissed. “You will convince him to fight for us and we will see what he is worth.” <br /><br />He gave her chin a powerful squeeze which ground Delevy’s teeth together in her jaw. He dropped his hand. “You may pit him against the Sandcor prisoners. He will fight or he will die. Prepare him. I give you one full turn to make him ready.” The Prime swept back around his desk and flopped into his chair. “Go!” <br /><br /> <br /><br /><b>046.03</b> <br /><br />“You have to fight.” Delevy pleaded. “If you do not fight the Sandcor they will kill you. They have nothing to lose. All of them have been prisoners here for ages.” <br /><br />“I will not kill for your Prime!” Tal’on repeated himself. His tail slashed across the stone floor, the scales clattering to the tune of his anger. “I hold nothing against these Sandcor, or your people. I want to go home!” He shouted. <br /><br />The cell was becoming unbearable hot. These days, since the change, Tal’on seemed to put off an inordinate amount of body heat when he was angry or even frustrated. Delevy had been working with Tal’on for over half a turn. She tried everything to get him to realize he was going to have to defend himself when he was thrown in with the Sandcor in the stadium. The Prime was having a steel cage cover constructed over the field so Tal’on could not fly away. Though no one knew whether he could fly or not, since he had not been allowed to leave his cell. <br /><br />Delevy tried to sway Tal’on’s feelings toward the Sandcor. She told him about their invasion of towns, the bombing raids over the unprotected outlying villages, the terrorist attacks on the trade routes, and the killing of innocent women and children. Tal’on just continued to shake his head. It was not his war. And, didn’t the Valdare do the same to the Sandcor? He wanted no part of it. His species were peaceful. <br /><br />Delevy sat down on the one lone chair she had brought into his cell. “Please Tal’on,” she begged. <br /><br />“Help me escape,” Tal’on suggested. “I will take you with me,” he offered, “away from all this fighting and death.” <br /><br />Delevy had to admit the offer was tempting, but there were so many unknown variables. Tal’on had not flown yet. He admitted he did not know if it was going to be instinct or if he had to be taught by the Great. Another thing the Greats chose to not reveal in advance of the stasis. <br /><br />“We wouldn’t make it past the guards,” she pointed out. “Remember how the prods brought you down in the square?” <br /><br />“I am bigger now and stronger,” Tal’on boasted. “My scales are larger and thicker. I bet I have gained double my weight.” He nudged her with a paw. “My claws are twice as long.” He proved his point by extending them to show her the lethal looking sharp weapons. “And there is something I have not shown you,” he went on. <br /><br />The room’s temperature instantly rose at least another ten degrees. Smoke trailed from Tal’on’s nostrils. This was not the first time Delevy saw these wisps, but it was the first time for what came next. Tal’on inhaled and when he exhaled fire shot across the room and hit the far wall. The blue stones in the wall took on a deeper sheen. <br /><br />Delevy bolted from her chair. “What the…!” <br /><br />“I did it in my sleep last night,” Tal’on explained. “I have seen the older dragons breathe fire, but I did not know how it was done until I woke up with my blanket on fire.” <br /><br />He grinned at her as if that were a good thing. <br /><br />Delevy went to the wall and gingerly reached out a finger to touch where the fire hit. It was so hot she burned her finger. She stood sucking it and thinking. Maybe they could escape. Maybe there was hope.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-84481156684656239202020-09-20T17:11:00.003-07:002020-09-20T17:11:23.708-07:00Star Trader Update .045<b>045.01</b><br /><br />“Let’s take a break,” Rudd’ard said. “Mul’drak and I will go get us all something to eat.” <br /><br />Rudd’ard rose and swiftly mounted Mul’drak. He reached down and affectionately patted the larger dragon on the neck. <br /><br />“We’ll be right back,” he assured us, and then promptly disappeared. <br /><br />“Whoa,” Jake said with an exhale of breath. He looked toward Arr. “What are you getting out of this?”<span><a name='more'></a></span> <br /><br />“The non-verbal exchanges between the two seem to confirm what they are telling us,” Arr told his partner. He smiled in a conspiring fashion. “It will be interesting to see what they return with. I caught a glimpse of where they were going as they locked minds. I do love the sunglobes from Muldavian.” <br /><br />“They’re flying all the way to Muldavian?” I asked in disbelief. It would have taken us months to get there even with jumping through windows and hitching a dangerous ride on the Malestrom. <br /><br />“Not flying,” Arr corrected, “Jumping.” <br /><br />“I wonder what that is like?” I asked. <br /><br />“Probably like jumping through a window,” Jake suggested. He was walking around the cavern, stretching his legs. <br /><br />We had been setting for over an hour listening to Rudd’ard tell us the story of Tal’on. I was anxious to get to where this all tied into the Sollen, or dragoncall, and why the Valdare wanted it. Wanted it so much they killed my parents. That was, if I was reading all the clues correctly in this mystery my parents left me to unravel. <br /><br /> <br /><br />Rudd’ard and Mul’drak reappeared about thirty minutes later. Rudd’ard slid off of the older dragon’s back. He pulled a harness with a sack on either end from around Mul’drak’s neck and began to unpack items placing them on one of the larger flat boulders in the middle of the cavern. To Arr’s delight there were several sunglobes. One sack contained the sunglobes, some other delectable looking fruits, nuts, and a jug of something. The other sack was filled to the brim with roasted meat. You could smell it as soon as Rudd’ard pulled the rope tie open. He spread the food out on the sacks. There were no plates. This was going to be buffet style, finger food. <br /><br />Mul’drak speared a sunglobe with a long, wickedly looking claw. He held it in that paw as he sliced it in half with the claw on his other paw. He handed the half to Arr. <br /><br />“I believe you were hoping for this,” he said in his deep baritone. <br /><br />Arr accepted gracefully and with a knowing grin. At least the old dragon was in on the fact that Arr could read his pictures, because Arr hadn’t said a word. <br /><br />Jake drew his knife from his belt and leaned over what appeared to be the hindquarter of some beast. <br /><br />“May I slice anyone some,” he offered. <br /><br />I raised my hand. I hadn’t had anything since breakfast and realized with the tantalizing smell that I was starved. <br /><br />Rudd’ard took the other half of the sunglobe and cored out the meat of the melon with his claw. He then popped the cork on the jug he unpacked and poured some golden liquid in the melon’s shell. He handed it back to Mul’drak. Once the old dragon had emptied the improvised bowl, he poured it full again and had his own long slow draft. <br /><br />Jake finished cutting meat. He speared some on the point of his knife and handed it over to me. I took it with pleasure as Arr cored out a slice of the sunglobe for me with his knife and hand it over as well. Roasted meat in one hand and a juicy slice of melon in the other and I was as happy as a Dar-dolf puppy on a tit. <br /><br />Rudd’ard offered to fill Arr’s melon rind bowl with liquid when he was finished coring it out of the edible meat. Jake seeing the advantage of that, cut another melon in half and cored it out for me and him a bowl. <br /><br />The golden liquid was delicious with a sweet, and what I can only describe as, the wettest taste I have ever had in my mouth. It was extremely refreshing. <br /><br />“Mallie nectar,” Jake said licking his lips. “I’ve only had this once before. A mercenary friend of mine asked to be paid in it when he did a job for a Muldavian ambassador on Titan IV.” <br /><br />“It is a favorite of our clan,” Rudd’ard explained. “We trade Selist Root for it.” <br /><br />Being a trader, I knew Selist Root came from the swamps of Polor and Mallie nector, even though I had never had any before, I knew came from Crainsil on the opposite side of the verse. These dragons were ‘Jumping’ all over the place. They must not have any limit to their range. <br /><br />“Where do you call home now,” I asked. “I mean, this is Drakis, right?” <br /><br />“It is unfortunately,” Mul’drak confirmed, “destroyed by the Valdare millennia ago.” <br /><br />So Tal’on’s story was not a recent one. I waited for the answer to my question, but it was not forthcoming. <br /><br />“I am afraid we do not know you well enough to divulge the location of our home world. The last time someone found it, this was what happened,” Rudd’ard indicated with a wave of his paw toward the outside world beyond the cavern. “Tal’on told Delevy everything that night as they sat and ate. And Delevy told Tal’on of her world.” <br /><br />“The Valdare had been at war with the Sandcor for centuries. So long they could not really remember what started it,” Mul’drak said over the rim of his bowl of nectar. He folded his wings up close to his body as though the thought of it chilled him. “We had never experienced war. We lived in peaceful clans here on this planet, which at that time, was a lush garden of flora and fauna.” <br /><br />“The Valdare and the Sandcor were fast approaching the age of star travel. They were both tinkering with genetic enhancements to build a bigger, better Soldier. That is the reason they assumed Tal’on was bred by the Sandcor,” Rudd’ard explained. “When Delevy reported back to the Prime about Tal’on’s transformation and where he came from, the Prime was anxious to try another meeting with our brethren.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-9363158854978136042020-09-05T21:39:00.001-07:002020-09-05T21:39:50.275-07:00Star Trader Update .044<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>044.01</b><br /><br />“Delevy had no idea what Tal’on was going through, she only knew he was suffering and her kind heart reached out to him.” Rudd’ard was up pacing the cave now, his long tail thrashing the ground on occasion tossing up dust and small pebbles. <br /><br />Perhaps he was thinking of his own change that would come one day. I didn’t know. Graf’tal kept a close eye on his youngling charge. I kept a close eye on Arr. I could see he was getting more out of this story and the interaction of the two dragons then either Jake or I could hope to. He was privy to their picture communication which was no doubt flying at this point. <br /><br />“She did not know but a handful of words in our language, but somehow through the mists of the void her voice came to Tal’on and brought him comfort. A comfort he desperately needed.” Rudd’ard looked toward Mul’drak. He nodded and came back to sit at the older dragon’s side. He wrapped his tail around his feet and hugged himself. Mul’drak nudged him in the side with his large wedged head and the youngling dropped his arms to encircle the older dragon’s neck as he lay his head in the younglings lap. <a name='more'></a><br /><br />“It is a difficult time for the younglings,” Mul’drak said. “It is a wonder that Tal’on made it through without his Great Graf’tal. It is said that younglings without a guide through the stasis, in the form of a Great, can go insane or even die. That was the miracle of Delevy. She somehow broke through the void and helped Tal’on mature into a fully fledged dragon.” <br /><br />Mul’drak studied us with his unsettling black and red eyes. “It is fortunate that stasis does not take long. It is much like you human’s cutting a tooth. On day there is pain and agony the next, the wings have broken through the outer scales and within another day are fully emerged.” <br /><br /> <br /><b>044.02</b><br /><br />Tal’on could hear Delevy’s voice. He felt a gentle touch stroking his ear and then a bit of a scratch that felt so good it made him drool in his sleep. <br /><br />“Yuck, Tal’on,” Delevy wiped at her sleeve. “Have a heart,” she pleaded. “I have been sitting her for most of the night. You won’t let me go even to relieve myself. The least you could do is not make a further mess of me.” <br /><br />“Hum?” Tal’on said, as he slowly began to come around. <br /><br />It was as though someone or something had blown all the smoke and ash out of his way and he could see again. In his half-dream he was winging his way through the clouds. Yes, he was flying and there was a weight upon his back. Did he have his own charge? A companion to assist through the stasis as Graf’tal had assisted him? But no, Graf’tal wasn’t here. He couldn’t feel the elder dragon’s presence. Who was with him? He curled his neck up over his shoulder to see who was seated on his shoulders. He saw a booted foot and then a green leg. It was Delevy. His keeper was here in his dream and it seemed right, as though she belonged here with him. <br /><br />“I said, you would be doing me a favor if you would close your mouth and not drool all over my lap.” <br /><br />Tal’on felt a hand grasp his chin and gently close his mouth. His eyes rolled open at the touch, first his outer lid, to reveal a ghostly subject above him and then his inner lid, the ones that would now cut the wind when he flew through bad weather. <br /><br />It was Delevy hovering over him. He was lying with his head in her lap. She looked startled upon seeing his eyes open, but she didn’t remove her hand from his ear. She scratched again. <br /><br />“You’re not going to bite me are you?” She asked tentatively. <br /><br />Tal’on lifted his head from her lap. He could understand her. Not just a few words, but everything she was saying. He licked his dry lips with a long pink tongue. <br /><br />“Easy, big boy,” Delevy cautioned. “You let me up and I will get something much tastier than me for you to eat.” <br /><br />Tal’on shook his head. It was all too overwhelming. He pulled back and wearily pushed himself up on all fours. He sat back on his haunches before her. The blankets covering him slid in a pile to the floor behind him. <br /><br />“That’s better,” Delevy said. She straightened out her legs and massaged them a bit to get the blood flowing back into them. “How you feeling?” She asked, as she kept an eye on him. She needed to get up and put a safe distance between them. Tal’on had doubled in size and he was shaped different now. She had not been wrong in her observation that his hand looked more like a foot. He was on all fours now and sitting like one of the Knots in the Klay, back on his haunches. <br /><br />Tal’on heard her question, but he still was marveling over the fact that he could understand her. That, and the fact that he was not bipedal any longer. He was a dragon. A fully fledged dragon! And if he was fully fledged, he would have wings like in his dream. He forced himself to his feet on unsteady legs and flexed the muscles in his back. <br /><br />Delevy didn’t know if she or Tal’on were the most surprised by the appearance of the huge blood red wings with the black veins running through them. They popped up and out so huge they almost touched the opposite walls of the cell. They must be twenty feet across. <br /><br />Tal’on pawed at the floor and gingerly flexed his new wings up and down in delight. Delevy got to her feet and instead of running for the cell door she moved toward Tal’on as though drawn to him by his impressive wing span. <br /><br />“You have wings,” she said in awe. <br /><br />“Obviously,” Tal’on replied, as he brought one forward and caught her in it to pull her toward him. <br /><br />“Oh!” She squeaked, but she didn’t struggle or fight him. She looked up into his swirling red eyes. “I can understand you.” <br /><br />“And I, you,” Tal’on confirmed. <br /><br />“How can that be?” Delevy asked. <br /><br />“I cannot hope to understand, much less explain, the wonders of stasis,” Tal’on said. “Can we speak silently?” he asked as he projected his mental images to Delevy. <br /><br />She reeled and stuck her hand out to steady herself in the curve of Tal’on wing. <br /><br />“Stop that!” she shouted as if he were not standing right beside her. <br /><br />He pulled back the images and settled down on his belly, pulling her gently down with him to rest between his paws up against his chest on the floor. <br /><br />“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I should have taken it slower.” He searched his memory for how Graf’tal introduced him to picture talking. It seemed so long ago now. <br /><br />Delevy stroked the scaly leg Tal’on hand wrapped around her. <br /><br />“What happened to you?” She asked. “It’s like you morphed into something totally different. How did the Sandcor create such a wonderful creature.” <br /><br />“The Sandcor?” Tal’on asked in a puzzled tone. <br /><br />His voice was lower and mellower since he awoke. Delevy found it soothing and reassuring. <br /><br />“The Sandcor are the people who bred you,” She explained. <br /><br />“No…” Tal’on shook his wedged head from side to side. “I don’t know who these Sandcor are, but I am Tal’on of the Graf’tal Clan of Drakis. I am not from this world.” <br /><br />“Wait…” Delevy turned in his arms so she could face him. “Our Prime believes you to be a creature bred by the Sandcor to assassinate him.” <br /><br />“The Blue?” Tal’on queried. <br /><br />“The Blue?” Delevy asked. <br /><br />“The Blue that the Red defended,” Tal’on explained. <br /><br />It dawned on Delevy what Tal’on was trying to explain. He was identifying them by their uniform colors. <br /><br />“Yes, the Blue is our leader, the Prime Astrolaris. The Red are his personal guards.” She studied Tal’on. “And I suppose I am a…” <br /><br />“Green,” Tal’on confirmed, “until I learned your name and saw you shed your skin.” <br /><br />“Shed my skin?” She croaked in surprise. <br /><br />Tal’on pointed toward her jacket that still lay on the floor. <br /><br />“Oh,” she sighed. <br /><br />“What happened with the Prime?” If he was identifying them by their clothing then he must have picked out the Prime as the only one wearing blue. “Why did you try to attack him?” <br /><br />“I wasn’t trying to attack him,” Tal’on started to explain. “I tried to talk with him and when he did not respond, I was going to try sign language like I did with you, but his guard fell upon me with their sticks.” Tal’on snorted and smoke rose from his nostrils. He smiled in surprise and snorted again, blowing smoke up into the air over their heads. <br /><br />Delevy watched in wonder. What was this creature? Where did he come from if not from a genetic experiment by the Sandcor? <br /><br />“Where is Drakis?” Delevy asked remembering the unusual name. <br /><br />“Far from here I fear,” Tal’on answered. He quickly lost interest in the puffs of smoke he had been releasing. <br /><br />“How did you get here? When they brought you in they said you just materialized in the town square during the Commission Day Celebration.” <br /><br />“I was performing a ‘jump’ with Graf’tal when I was ripped away from him and landed here.” Tal’on’s claws extended and he scraped them in agitation against the stone floor. <br /><br />“Graf’tal?” Delevy frowned at him. <br /><br />Tal’on didn’t look down at her. He continued to rake the floor with his claws. “My Great,” he answered. <br /><br />The statement made no since to Delevy. It was like they were speaking a different language even though she could hear him perfectly. <br /><br />“I want you to start from the beginning,” Delevy asked. “Tell me about yourself, your people, your world and how you think you got here, but first I will go wash up and get us something to eat. I’m starving, how about you.” <br /><br />Tal’on’s stomach rumbled in reply.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-86832112319994431042020-08-29T08:43:00.005-07:002020-08-29T08:43:31.304-07:00Star Trader Update .043<b>043.01</b><br /><br />“On the fourth day Tal’on woke up ravenous and shivering, sure indications he was going into stasis,” Mul’drak said. “Of course, Graf’tal had told him what to expect, but he had also told the youngling that he would be there for him to guide him through. The Great left the details of the journey through the mental muck of stasis to the time when it came, so as not to frighten Tal’on.” <br /><br />“So, in short,” Rudd’ard added, “he knew little of what was about to befall him.” <br /><br /><b>043.02</b> <br /><br />Tal’on couldn’t remember ever being this hungry. Even the first few days without food when he arrived in this place did not compare to the gnawing emptiness he felt. When Delevy arrived with his meal he knelt, bolting it down half chewed and raised his platter to beg for more. He was not adverse to begging. He had an almost primeval desire to eat and it was all he could do to keep from thinking of Delevy as his next meal. <br /><br />“Morrrrr…Pleeez,” he begged. <span><a name='more'></a></span><br /><br />The female responded well to the magic of the ‘Pleeez’ word. She hurried off and brought back another tray in record time. By the time he got to the bottom of that heaping platter the edge was taken off of his hunger enough for him to notice he was freezing. He also had difficulty swallowing the last few mouthfuls. The collar they put on him was uncomfortably tight. He ran a long claw between it and his neck. There was a lot less room compared to before he fell asleep. <br /><br />Delevy saw his action. Her eyes squint in question. She tapped her wrist and then made a motion with her other hand indicating the shackle. She clutched her wrist tightly. ‘Was the shackle too tight there too?’ <br /><br />Tal’on lifted his hand. The ring around his wrist used to hang loss. Now it was so tight his scaly skin bulged to either side of it. It was the same with the one around his ankle. In fact, now that his hunger had been sated he realized his hand and foot tingled. They were half asleep. The shackle was cutting off the circulation. The Early change…could it be? <br /><br /><b>043.03</b> <br /><br />Delevy didn’t understand what was happening to Aon, she just knew his restraints were too tight. Perhaps what she was feeding him was making him bloat up. The food certainly did not satisfy his hunger as it should. He ate more than any Knot she ever saw. <br /><br />Delevy knew the Prime would be very angry if she let anything happen to Aon. She decided to take it upon herself to make sure nothing did. She slipped the key to his shackles off the ring at her belt, tossed the key at Tal’on, and ran for the door to his cell to put the bars safely between him and her. <br /><br /><b>043.04</b> <br /><br />Tal’on freed himself and massaged his neck, wrist and ankle until they stopped tingling. He tried to rise to his feet, but found that his legs would not lift him. He was overcome with a severe chill which racked his body. He went to pull the things Delevy called blankets up over his shoulders, but found that the lightest touch of the cloth upon his back sent stabbing pains from shoulder to waist. He curled over in pain, kneeling with his head on the floor. He couldn’t move…couldn’t think…The mere idea of sitting upright made him want to retch. <br /><br /><b>043.05</b> <br /><br />“Tal’on didn’t know how long he huddled there, trying to still the pain in his back,” Rudd’ard said. “He eventually fell asleep, but that was worse than the wakeful pain.” <br /><br />“You see,” Mul’drak chimed in, “we dragons have very active minds both waking and sleeping. Our dreams are vivid with color and full stories. The thing a youngling in stasis loses is that dream state. Stasis is a void, a black hole that a youngling cannot escape. That is what we Greats do for our charges, we fill that void with pictures. We guide them through the void. We make the unbearable, bearable.” <br /><br />“Tal’on had no guide until Delevy, in her desire to help what she took to be an injured charge stepped in.” Rudd’ard rose to his feet. “Delevy guided Tal’on through the stasis to the other side without really knowing what she was doing.” <br /><br />“Or how important a task she had taken on,” Mul’drak added. <br /><br />“Or what her action would lead to.” <br /><br /><b>043.06</b> <br /><br />It could have been minutes or hours. It felt like days or maybe weeks. Tal’on couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see. The world around him had disappeared. He was alone, stumbling through an endless void. Tal’on was lost. He could not hear or see. He could not feel anything but the excruciating pain. His mind was totally empty until he heard a faint sound…a voice far away…and he began to follow it. Follow it through the dark murky vales of smoke and ash that surrounded him in this frightening place. <br /><br /><b>043.07</b> <br /><br />“Delevy told Tal’on later that she watched him from the safe place behind the bars of his prison as he seemed to crumple down over himself. She saw him quake and heard his moan as he drifted down into stasis. He collapsed over on his side and seemed to go into convulsions,” Rudd’ard explained. “That was when Delevy took the chance and went into see if she could help Tal’on.” <br /><br /><b>043.08</b> <br /><br />He was so cold, his teeth were clacking together. Delevy could see he was unconscious. She took the chance she would be able to sense when to run and have the time to get away. She pulled his blankets over his shivering body and when that wasn’t enough she fetched hers and more from storage to cover Aon. When she returned she could swear he was larger than when she left. His feet and hands stuck out from beneath the covers, but perhaps her mind was just playing tricks on her, or he had moved. <br /><br />She lit the brazier in the corner of the room. It was meant for heating weapons of torture, but it would warm the room since the Prime had deemed central heating unneeded for the prisoners under his regime. The temperature began to rise, but Aon still quaked and moaned below his covers. <br /><br />Delevy sat down cross-legged at Tal’on’s head and pulled it into her lap. She stroked his brow and spoke gently to him. She knew he didn’t understand her completely, but like anything suffering, even an animal, she hoped he found a soothing voice comforting. When he rolled over in agony his head butted against her stomach and his hand came up to grasp at her knee. His claws retracted, something she had not seen happen before and he kneaded her leg like a huge cat, his pads working at the fabric of her pants. <br /><br />She took the opportunity to examine him more closely. She ran her fingers softly over the pebbly tip of his nose. He snorted in his sleep as though the touch might tickle. A small trail of smoke puffed from his nostrils and swirled up to make her cough. <br /><br />She stroked his horns from the base to the now very lethal looking pointed tip. They felt like stone and were cool to the touch. She traced her finger over the scales of his hand. Funny, it looked more like a paw now. Closer to the way his feet appeared. She ran her hand down his long neck and felt the joints between the large plates on his chest. He sighed beneath her touch and nudged his head into her stomach again. <br /><br />Tal’on reached up and curled his other arm around Delevy’s back. He settled his paw at the base of her spine and squeezed her closer. <br /><br />He had her captive in his arms. It had happened so quickly she didn’t have time to pull away. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She spoke gently to him and tried to disentangle herself from his grasp, but each time she tried to move he only snuggled closer to her. He was almost wrapped around her. It seemed as though he could not get close enough to her. If he had been smaller he would have been curled in her lap. <br /><br />She continued to pet him and speak gently. Most of the time he was calm, his only movement, the chills that ran down his body in waves and the almost constant flicking of his tail. She could hear his scales scrape across the floor. On occasion, he growled or snapped in agitation sending shivers up Delevy’s spine as his teeth glistened in the light of the brazier. She questioned her own judgment which got her into his tightly woven grip. <br /><br />She could call for another jailer, but would he wake and attack her? She thought not, but she didn’t want to take the chance. So, when he growled, or made any other sound, she stroked his frilled ears and talked to him in a soft voice to calm him. It seemed to work. Delevy just didn’t know how long she could keep it up. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-43456900444460127952020-08-22T21:02:00.002-07:002020-08-22T21:02:40.461-07:00Star Trader Update .042<b>042.01</b><br /><br />Tal’on watched the green come and go as he finished up his meal. She dragged in numerous things that looked like their skins, but were in large squares. She spread one out on the stone beneath her feet and piled the others at her side. After making several trips she appeared to tire and sweat formed on her brow to dampened the fur that fell across it. Tal’on watched with horror, his mouth full of the last morsel off his platter, as she shed her outer skin and threw it to the ground. She proceeded to pull off another layer of her skin and wiped her face with it before she tossed it to the pile on the large skin. She now stood with only a layer of green around her chest and covering her legs. The rest of her, neck, shoulders, arms, appeared as her hands and face, pale and soft. Tal’on didn’t realize it, but his mouth was hanging open in surprise. <span><a name='more'></a></span><br /> “What?” Delevy asked when she saw the puzzled expression on the beast’s face. “You’ve never seen a girl before?” <br /><br /> The beast pointed at her over shirt and jacket, than pointed at her. <br /><br /> “I am not going to put them back on,” she protested. “It’s too hot in here.” <br /><br /> The creature continued to stare. It was safely secured and had finished off its meal, so she felt confident she could approach close enough to toss it a blanket or two to lie on. She picked two up and stepping tentatively forward offering them to it. <br /><br /> The lizard creature made no move to take them, so she plopped them down a few feet away and then pushed them closer with her broom. <br /><br /> The beast studied them as though it had never seen a blanket before. Where had the Sandcor kept it? In a Klay like they did the Knots? But even the Valdare gave their beasts something soft to lie upon. <br /><br /> The creature poked at the blankets with a long wickedly sharp looking claw. It leaned over and smelled them. Finally, as though satisfied they would not bite, it took one in its hand and ran it through its fingers feeling the texture. <br /><br /> “Where have they kept you?” Delevy asked. “It’s a blanket.” <br /><br /> She sat down on hers and pulled the ends up over her shoulders to show the beast it was to cover and warm it. <br /><br /> The lizard pointed again at her shirt. She cocked her head and puzzled over what it was asking. She decided it was worth a shirt to figure it out. She picked up the shirt, wadded it up in a ball and tossed it at the beast. <br /><br /> The creature actually flinched, its ears laying back as though she had thrown a stone at it. The shirt landed a foot short of its place on the floor. The creature reached out and with a single pointed claw drew it closer. It leaned down and smelled it. She could hear it inhale deeply and saw its nostrils flare. <br /><br /> “Eeewhew,” she said in discuss. “Yes, I sweat all over it.” Maybe it was getting her scent like the Knots did before tracking. She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. But then again, the Knots also used scent to identify friend from foe. <br /><br /> <br /><br /> Tal’on could tell by the texture, the large square and the green outer skin were the same. But, it wasn’t a skin. Though it smelled like her, it had never been attached to her. It was some plant based thing. With his excellent eyesight he could see that both pieces consisted of fine strands interlaced together. It was something to protect her pale, soft skin from the elements. It was used like his clan used the skins of the Crazar and other beasts they killed to lay upon. The difference was since these beings ate plants, they lay on plants too. The beings were all the same, except for gender, like his kin. They just covered themselves in these colored plant things. So the blue was probably a leader as he guessed and the reds who beat him were his guard like the Greats at home. As for the green, she was his keeper…his warden. Perhaps his only companion until he got out of here. <br /><br /> He smiled a toothy grin, and stuffed the large piece beneath him as best he could in his crouched position. It would be good to get off the stone. It chilled him even though at home the cold would not have bothered him at all. <br /><br /> <br /><br /> “May I have my shirt back,” Delevy asked before the beast stuffed it under him or used it as a pillow. <br /><br />The creature had obviously figured out what the blankets were for by her actions. She pointed at the shirt and gestured for the beast to toss it back. The lizard held it up by the arms and smiled a grin full of teeth at her. It stuck a hand up the sleeve and made to put it on. <br /><br />“No!” she hollers. The beast was much too large for it and would rip it to shreds. And on second thought, she really couldn’t spare the shirt. <br /><br />As though it understood, it pulled it off and obliged her by rolling the shirt back up and lobbing it her direction. It made a good pitch and she caught it mid-air. <br /><br />“Okay,” she said, as she tucked the shirt behind her. “Let’s see if we can really communicate. I heard you mumble earlier.” <br /><br />She placed her hand over her chest and patted it. “I am Delevy.” She patted again. “Delevy,” she repeated. <br /><br />The noise that came out of the beast mouth was gravely, deep and did not sound anything like Delevy except that it did appear to start with a ‘D’ and end on an ‘E’ sound. <br /><br />“De…le…vy,” she enunciated. <br /><br />“Da...vey,” the beast growled. <br /><br />“De…le…vy,” she tried once more. <br /><br />“Daaa…vy,” it said. <br /><br />“Well, I guess that would have to do,” she smiled. “Maybe you can’t wrap your tongue around an ‘L.’” <br /><br />She pointed at the beast. “What’s your name?” This was like something out of one of those silly old Earther vid chips. “I’m Delevy,” she patted her chest again, than pointed at the lizard, “and you are…?” <br /><br /> <br /><br />The green was trying to communicate with him. Tal’on rocked up into a squat to pay close attention. Communication was the first step toward getting out of here. <br /><br />“Delevy,” he said, repeating her name after her. <br /><br />She didn’t seem satisfied with his pronunciation. She repeated her name. <br /><br />“Delevy,” he said again. It sounded right to him, but she winkled her nose and went on. She wanted him to tell her his name. <br /><br />“Tal’on,” he said, as he placed his hand on his chest as she had. <br /><br />“tAon,” she said, putting an emphasis on the ‘A.’ <br /><br />“Tal’on,” he repeated. <br /><br />He noticed her speech swallowed the ‘T’ and almost sounded like Aon. He could live with that. He nodded. <br /><br /> <br /><br />“Delevy spent the better part of the next three days teaching Tal’on her language,” Ruddard explained. “His ability to reproduce her speech was better than her ability to reproduce his. Our speech is actually very guttural when not enhanced by the atmosphere on this planet.” <br /><br />“And was she able to see your picture thoughts,” Arr asked. <br /><br />“Unfortunately, no, the Valdare are not receptive to that mode of communication. It would have been so much easier for Tal’on if she had,” Rudd’ard continued. “As it was, he managed to gain her trust and his confinement was lessened in the sense that his chain was lengthened and he luckily was able to reach the wall once more.” <br /><br />“In the hours when Delevy was not with him, he carved at the blue stone until he managed to chip off the piece you now have in your position,” Mul’drak said with a nod of his wedged head at Arr. “Of course, it would take time to fashion the Sollen and frankly, time was running out for Tal’on. <br /><br /><b>042.02</b><br /><br /><br />The Prime had his guards escort Delevy to his chambers. She thought the ruler had heard about her caring for the beast and was going to punish her. <br /><br />“Have a seat,” the Prime said and waved her to a chair in front of his desk. <br /><br />Delevy had never been in the Prime’s office. In fact, she had never been in the assembly itself. She had been appointed keeper to the Sandcor by the head jailer based on her work, not by royal decree. She could feel the sweat trickle down her back as she took a seat on the most expensive looking chair she had ever seen. The cushion was red velvet with gold tassels. The chair itself was hand carved, by a talented artisan. It had the royal seal carved in its back. She tucked her booted feet under the chair and tried to make herself as small as possible. The Prime was all powerful. He could declare life or death for his subjects. <br /><br />“I hear you have taken to caring for the beast,” the Prime said, as he picked up the crystal glass at his elbow and took a sip of wine. <br /><br />Delevy nodded her head afraid to speak. Was she even allowed to speak to the Prime? <br /><br />“I saw it a few days ago. It tried to attack me,” the Prime went on. He swirled the liquid absently in his glass as he spoke. <br /><br />The mural behind the Prime depicted him in battle with transports and troops all around him. Delevy recognized it as a depiction of the Battle of Alstaires. She has seen a smaller version in one of her textbooks as a child. <br /><br />She shouldn’t have helped Aon. He tried to kill the Prime, but then he hadn’t made any move against her. He had been trying to communicate with her. He was so lost. <br /><br />Delevy cleared her throat. “I know I was not told to care for him, Prime, but I could not bear to see him lying in his own vomit.” <br /><br />The Prime leaned back and fixed Delevy with a pointed stare. “The head jailer tells me you have been trying to establish communication with the beast.” <br /><br />Head jailer indeed, Delevy thought. He was the one who told on her, and the Prime didn’t even know him well enough to know his name. She shook her head. <br /><br />“I have, Prime. He is an intelligent being,” she said and straightened up a bit taller in his chair. “He learns quickly.” <br /><br />The Prime leaned forward with interest. “Really? The jailer tells me he does not speak our language. What has he learned?” <br /><br />“Well, we are not very much further than the basics,” Delevy said. “His name is Aon, though I admit I do not think I am pronouncing it correctly.” <br /><br />The Prime came to his feet. “Who sent him? Was he sent to kill me?” he demanded. <br /><br />“I don’t know,” Delevy answered. She had not realized the Prime was so tall, so formidable looking in his dress blues with its gold buttons behind his expansive desk. <br /><br />The Prime came around the desk and stood hovering over her, his presence meant to intimidate. <br /><br />“I want to know these things and more,” he said in a threatening voice. “I want to know his makers and if there are more of his kind.” He circled her like she was prey. “We know the Sandcor have been quiet for much too long. We know they are formulating a new offensive. Our spies tell us they are working on some secret weapon that would give them an advantage in battle. I want to know when they are coming and how many. We cannot allow them to get the upper hand as they did in the last millennium.” The Prime struck the top of his desk with force as he came back around in front of her. The noise ricocheted through the room like a shot. <br /><br />Delevy cringed before him. <br /><br />“You will continue to work with the beast,” the Prime ordered, as he rounded back to his side of the desk. “You will make it your priority to find out these things. You will report back to me daily on your progress.” He waved a hand. “You are dismissed.” <br /><br />Delevy hurried from the room.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-51141001331123656962020-08-15T16:09:00.000-07:002020-08-15T16:09:07.894-07:00Star Trader Update .041<b>041.01</b><br /><br />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. <br /><br /> 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. <span><a name='more'></a></span><br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> “Where am I?” was his question. <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /><b>041.02</b> <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> <br /><br /> “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.” <br /><br /> “With the way the rest of her kind acted, I am surprised she tired,” I said. I stood up to stretch my legs. <br /><br /> “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.” <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /><b>041.03</b><br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> <br /><br /> “It’s food. Eat it,” Delvey said. <br /><br />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? <br /><br />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. <br /><br />When it made a move against the Prime, the first time they made contact with it again, his personal guard beat it unconscious. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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? <br /><br />“You must be hungry,” she said and motioned again. <br /><br />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. <br /><br /> <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> She took her platter and went to the Klay to obtain some meat from the keepers of the Knots. <br /><br /> <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> 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! <br /><br />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? <br /><br />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. <br /><br />He had to get home…He couldn’t do this alone. <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> It made Delevy question her leniency in giving the beast more slack in its chain. <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> 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. <br /><br /> “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. <br /><br /> <br /><br /> Tal’on struggled against the shortening of the chain and the collar around his neck. <br /><br /> “I am not a Threat!” he seethed. <br /><br /> 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.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-17525825072469795652020-08-08T15:36:00.001-07:002020-08-08T15:36:20.451-07:00Star Trader Update .040<b>040.01</b><br /><br /><br />Tal’on vaulted onto Graf’tal’s haunches, finding purchase with his claws between the plates of his senior’s scales. <br /><br /> “Careful there youngling,” Graf’tal chided. He curled his long neck around and spied the young wingless dragon, his charge, with a shinny pair of obsidian black eyes rimmed and flecked with gold. “Why can’t you mount like any normal youngling?” He snorted smoke into the face of the lizard looking Tal’on on his back. “You scramble like a hatchling.” <br /><br /> “I would board properly by wing if we were not always the last to leave the ground,” Tal’on shot back as he finally made it up Graf’tal’s back and settled on the dragon’s shoulders with his scaly legs wrapped around Graf’tal’s neck and his tail lying out along the dragon’s spine. <span><a name='more'></a></span><br /><br /> “And whose fault is that?” the dragon asked. “I am not the one still shoving food in my maw because I slept in too late…again.” <br /><br /> Tal’on pointed toward the other elder dragons, on wing with their charges, as they drew further away from the cave. <br /><br /> “Alright,” he conceded. “My fault, I take full blame. Now, let’s go before we miss out on Jump practice.” <br /><br />Tal’on emphasized his desire to be off by kicking his heels into Graf’tal’s chest. The old dragon promptly sat down. <br /><br />“Not going anywhere if you treat me like that.” He huffed another cloud of smoke over his shoulder at Tal’on. <br /><br />Tal’on waved a clawed hand at the smoke and squint his eyes at the stubborn expression on the dragon’s face. He was not going to get anywhere acting like a hatchling. He needed to use his brain to get Graf’tal to cooperate. The old dragon was a teacher and used to dealing with inSolent younglings. He had been doing it for centuries. <br /><br />Tal’on stretched himself out over Graf’tal’s long neck and ran his hands from the dragon’s chin to his chest. The old dragon rumbled in contentment sending a soft vibration throughout his body. <br /><br />“I’m sorry,” Tal’on apologized. “I am not myself this morning.” <br /><br />Graf’tal’s deep purr ceased immediately as he tried to turn his head in order to see the youngling on his back. <br /><br />“It is not your time yet,” Graf’tal said in a worried tone, “unless, you are an Early.” He sniffed at Tal’on. <br /><br />When the youngling leaned over to look his elder in the eye, Graf’tal licked his cheek. The old dragon savored the taste as his eyes squint shut in thought. <br /><br />“Not yet,” he said, “but close. You will be an Early.” <br /><br />“Really?” Tal’on almost squealed, the pitch of his normal speaking voice cracking into an octave higher register. <br /><br />Graf’tal’s ears laid back flat against his head at the sound of the off key pitch in the youngling’s changing voice. <br /><br />“Really,” he confirmed in his deep baritone. <br /><br />Tal’on could hardly sit still. None of his friends had been confirmed to be Earlies. He would be the first to get his wings…the first to be able to fly and Jump without an elder…the first to go into stasis, which he had to admit was scary and took the shine off the other two earlier thoughts. <br /><br />“When?’ Tal’on asked. <br /><br />“Not today,” Graf’tal answered. “Today we learn more about Jumping.” <br /><br />“And Jumping is what you did to get aboard my ship?” I asked interrupting Rudd’ard’s story. <br /><br />“Yes,” the one I now knew as being a youngling, confirmed. “Adults can Jump through time and space. They need only picture the place they wish to be and it is done.” <br /><br />“Space and time?” Jake asked skeptically. <br /><br />“Yes,” Rudd’ard said, his brow wrinkling clear up to the stubs of his short horns. <br /><br />“Through time?” Jake repeated. <br /><br />“Through time,” Mul’drak said. The claws on his paws extended and he raked the floor of the cave in irritation. <br /><br />“I’d like to see that,” Jake said. Anyone could tell Jake didn’t believe their claim of time travel in any way, shape, or form. <br /><br />“Well, you’ll never get the chance,” Mul’drak growled with satisfaction. “Proved that point during the Fall. Had a Valdare stuck on my back, so I Jumped here for help. He was ripped right off by the void - his lifeless body probably still floating there. Humanoids can’t Jump.” <br /><br />Jake stared, still disbelieving, at Mul’drak. The old dragon snorted in derision and lay his head back down on his paws. He had curled up beside Rudd’ard like a faithful Protect Dar-dolf. <br /><br />“And you are a youngster,” Arr said looking to Rudd’ard to draw the conversation back to a friendlier tone. <br /><br />“We say youngling, but yes, I will one day grow wings and fly like my Great companion here.” <br /><br />Rudd’ard leaned over and stroked Mul’drak’s wedged head between his ears, ending with a scratch around the base of his horns. The dragon rumbled in something I could only interpret as a purr. It filled the cavern and echoed off the walls. <br /><br />“The elders are our teachers, mentors, companions. We are all assigned to one when we mature beyond the hatchling age and into younglings. Prior to that we are with our parents, but our kin feel it is important for social skills to have the guidance of an elder, other than a parent, when one is introduced to our peers, and our ways.” <br /><br />“What happened to Tal’on and Graf’tal?” I asked. <br /><br />Rudd’ard lifted his hand from Mul’drak’s head and motioned toward the mouth of the cave. <br /><br />“It happened right out there. Graf’tal was correct. Tal’on was an Early and it did not happen that day, but it did the next.” Rudd’ard shifted on his rock bench. Mul’drak’s nuzzled the younglings’ side until he forced his head gently under Rudd’ard’s arm. It was like the older dragon was trying to comfort the younger. “When the Great ones Jump they lock minds with the youngling on their back. The youngling ‘sees’ what the teacher sees.” <br /><br />I smiled as I imagined Arr was somehow connecting with this species’ minds. The pictures he said he was seeing were what Rudd’ard was explaining. <br /><br />“The day Tal’on was lost was the beginning of the Valdare incursion into our world…our lives. Graf’tal blamed himself. He said he should have been more careful having already identified Tal’on as an Early, but really, if Graf’tal couldn’t have told how close he was, then certainly no one else could have either for Graf’tal was the oldest and most experienced Great among our kin.” <br /><br />“It was a mistake that cost many lives and ultimately a planet as well,” Mul’drak mumbled. <br /><br />“Graf’tal said he felt Tal’on firmly in his mind and on his back when he started the Jump home, but in the void it felt like the youngling was ripped from him.” Rudd’ard went on to explain. “When Graf’tal arrived here, Tal’on was not with him. We later found out the youngling landed abruptly on the Valdare planet, in a town square, during a celebration of some sort. As you can imagine, panic insured.” <br /><br /><b>040.02</b><br /><br /> Tal’on landed on his feet without Graf’tal beneath him. That in itself was surprising enough, for he had just been astride the elder dragon seconds ago. Even more upsetting though was the fact that he was not anywhere he had ever seen in his lifetime of over one hundred years, and surrounded by beings totally alien to him. He recognized only those three facts before the intense vertigo he felt from the aborted Jump brought him down on all fours to steady himself on the unusually patterned rock surface below his feet. <br /><br /> The beings were screaming and shouting. They were small, two legged creatures with pale, non-scaled skin from the neck up and on the hands. However, the rest of their bodies were all different colors. As many colors as Tal’on had seen in all his life and then some. No two appeared the same. On their heads they had fur like the beasts his kin hunted and ate at home. Some ran away from him, while others charged forward with metal sticks. When he raised his clawed paw to fend them off, they struck at him with the sticks. The weapons were charged with something which made the muscles in the area hit contract violently, causing great pain. <br /><br /> With claws extended he stuck out defending himself. He growled down deep in his throat hoping the beings would retreat. They only began to shout at him as they struck harder. This time when the sticks contacted his scaly body the pain was triple strength. He fell to his side and curled up with his tail wrapped up and over his body trying to protect his vital areas from the attack. The beings were relentless. They struck and struck until the dark cloud of unconsciousness enveloped Tal’on. <br /><br /><b>040.03</b> <br /><br /> Tal’on awoke to find himself chained hand and foot. At first he struggled to free himself. He tugged and pulled until his wrists and ankles were bruised. He pulled at the linked chain which attached his leg to a huge ring secured in the middle of the floor. It would not budge. <br /><br />He stopped struggling and started to study his surroundings for a way out. He was trapped in a cave. Tal’on stretched out his mind trying to locate Graf’tal. He probed the space around him for the gentle pictured thoughts of the old dragon, but found nothing. The young dragon’s mind was empty. Graf’tal was gone. <br /><br /> Tal’on rolled to his feet and moved to investigate his prison. His chains rattled and clinked against the stone of the floor which appeared to be large slabs laid together in a pattern. When his eyes rose to the walls of the cave he noticed those too appeared to be constructed of blocks rather than Solid rock. The stone was basically the same, although on occasion Tal’on would see a familiar stone of the azure blue shade found in the mountains at home. <br /><br /> His chain would only let him go far enough to glimpse around a corner at another sort of wall. This one had round lengths of some material which appeared about the diameter of Graf’tal’s horns, but much, much longer. These ran from the floor to the ceiling and were spaced a small distance apart. Tal’on could see through them. He felt certain that if he could reach them he could pull them apart and slip through. He tugged on his chained foot so hard he made his ankle bleed before he gave up and sat down again on the floor beside the ring that held him captive.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-43244670009965132852020-08-01T08:32:00.001-07:002020-08-01T08:32:47.434-07:00Star Trader Update .039<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>039.01</b><br /><br />“Say that again,” Jake said. He looked at me like he thought I had lost my mind. <br /><br />“It was a dragon,” I repeated. <br /><br />Jake got up from his place in my co-pilot’s seat on the bridge and took a few paces away from me. He removed his cap and ran his fingers through his dark, wavy hair. This was a habit Jake had when thinking, stressed or otherwise irritated. He could have been all three after my statement. <br /><br />“What did you see?” Jake asked Arr. <br /><br />“It was a dragon,” Arr confirmed. <a name='more'></a><br /><br />“Assuming you are both not delusional, how could a dragon fit on the bridge?” Jake waved his hand to indicate the space. <br /><br />“It ducked its head,” Arr answered matter-of-factly. <br /><br />Jake frowned at Arr and looked to me for a better explanation. I just shrugged my shoulders. <br /><br />Jake’s eyes squinted and he looked at us unbelieving. <br /><br />“And he wasn’t alone. The dragon had a rider,” Arr went on. <br /><br />I jumped in, “a kinda lizard man.” <br /><br />I screwed up my face at what that must have sounded like to Jake. He was already looking at us like he was ready to jump back in his pod and escape the ‘loony bin’ to the sanctity of the Calpernia. <br /><br />Jake ran his hand through his hair again, than he put his cap back on and came over to flop in defeat back in the co-pilot’s chair. <br /><br />“Start from the beginning,” Jake instructed. <br /><br />“They materialized on the deck,” I started, “just out of thin air.” I still had adrenaline running through my veins after the encounter. <br /><br />“They answered the Dragoncall,” Arr added. <br /><br />“Dragoncall?” Jake’s face had not lost that look of speculation. <br /><br />Arr nodded toward the artifact. It was lying in the velvet lined box where he put it the minute the dragon and its rider left the bridge. <br /><br />“It is a device to summons the dragon, or possibly dragons,” Arr explained. “The dragon that arrived on the bridge, and its rider, appeared to be almost mesmerized by it.” <br /><br />I remembered the look on their faces as Arr ‘played’ the stone. <br /><br />“They were hypnotized by it,” I added. <br /><br />“They wanted it,” Arr added. “They were going to take it.” He tilted his head to one side in thought. His eyes closed. “They speak in pictures. It is a very intense form of communication, like watching a vid, but without sound. Perhaps in time I will be able to understand their vocal language.” <br /><br />“All I heard was a couple of growls,” I said. <br /><br />“There were other sounds as well,” Arr added, “perhaps beyond your hearing range.” <br /><br />“So they want it,” Jake said. “What now?” <br /><br />“I agreed to meet them down on the planet. They want to show me something,” Arr responded. <br /><br />“Show us something, you mean,” Jake said, instantly inviting himself. <br /><br />“It’s my artifact,” I said rising from my chair, “I’m coming too.” <br /><br /><b>039.02</b><br /><br />The planet was just as pictured in the vid on Mom and Dad’s flat, dry and desolate. <br /><br />The dragon and its rider were nowhere to be seen. Instead, the landscape was scattered with the bones of what we all knew now were dragons. There must have been thousands of them. Only small portions of the ground did not have them lying upon it. Because of the vast quantity of bones that were visual, it gave me the feeling there where more bones probably buried below the surface. <br /><br />When I saw the skull I grabbed Jake’s sleeve and dragged him over to look at it with me. He squatted down and placed his hand on its brow. <br /><br />“By the Gods, you were not kidding,” Jake said in disbelief. <br /><br />“We told you,” I said. <br /><br />No doubt Jake, being human too, had heard the dragon tales that were scattered through our literature. If I hadn’t seen the thing with my own eyes, I would not have believed it either. <br /><br />“They're coming,” Arr said behind us. <br /><br />We both turned in time to see the dragon, and its rider, materialize in the air about twenty-five feet above us. It flapped wings that cast massive shadows across us as it back-peddling in the air. Then reaching out with four huge clawed feet it came down for a gentle landing. When the dust it kicked up cleared it extended a wing and the lizard man slid from its back. This time the approach was totally different. Where on the bridge both dragon and lizard seemed irritated and aggressive, here they seemed calm. The lizard man actually bowed his head toward us, I assumed in greeting since Arr returned the head nod. <br /><br />“I apologize for calling you down to this desolate planet,” the lizard man said. <br /><br />Jake and I were both surprised, especially after Arr and I not thinking the two strangers able to speak our language. However, Arr seemed to take a talking lizard in stride. <br /><br />“Thank you for asking us,” Arr responded. “Is it the air?” he asked. <br /><br />“It is the place,” the lizard man said cryptically. “We can manipulate the environment in order to allow you to hear our speech as your mind would interpret it.” <br /><br />This didn’t make any sense to me, but then I have seen a lot of weird stuff in my travels, so I could just mentally choke it up to magic and let my mind roll with it. I was listening to a lizard guy talk. The verse is an incredible place, full of surprises. <br /><br />“I am known as Rudd’ard. This is my companion Mul’drak.” <br /><br />Mul’drak extended his wings and placing a paw forward, he too bowed. “Pleased,” he said simply in a very deep bass. <br /><br />“We used to reside on this planet, but were forced to abandon it centuries ago,” Rudd’ard explained. “It was our home planet at one time.” <br /><br />“I am Arr of the Henu,” Arr started the introductions, “this is Jake Harcourt, my partner and 3su our friend. Her parents are the ones who found this.” Arr pulled the artifact from his pouch and held it in his open palm. <br /><br />“Please put it away,” Rudd’ard requested. “The Sollen’s call makes it very difficult to think clearly and it tugs at others of our kind.” <br /><br />Arr slipped it back in his pouch. <br /><br />“We heard the Sollen when your parents found it,” the lizard man said to me. “Its pull is very strong on us. One of us made the multiple jumps to get here, but it was already gone. Without it being held we could not track it. We have heard it for weeks now, as you came closer and closer.” He nodded toward Arr. “You are talented. The sound was a discord at first, but it soon began to resonate in our bones and so Mul’drak and I were sent to fetch it.” <br /><br />Mul’drak ruffled his wings and tilted his wedged head in order to eye us more intently. “The Sollen must be returned to its resting place,” he rumbled. <br /><br />I stepped closer to Rudd’ard. “My parents were archaeologists. They wouldn’t have taken it if they knew it belonged to someone.” I looked up into his lime green, lizard shaped eyes. “They were killed. I think it was for the artifact, the Sollen. After my parent’s death their living quarters were searched and my ship was broken into. We caught the man who broke in. He was a Valdare from this Solar system. What would a Valdare want with your Sollen?” <br /><br />“They seek control over us, as they have always,” Rudd’ard said and Mul’drak emitted a low rumbling growl of agreement behind him. <br /><br />“Will you follow us to a more pleasant place where we can speak?” Rudd’ard asked. “This unsettles us.” He motioned with a hand toward the bones scattered around peeking up out of the low ground hugging fog. <br /><br />Mul’drak swished his tail as though agitated, his scales clattered across the ground kicking up dust and tossing bones in the air. <br /><br />The three of us must have looked skeptical. <br /><br />“It is not far,” Rudd’ard added. “Mul’drak will fly slowly and keep in the visual range of your…” He pointed toward the pod. <br /><br />“Our pod,” I offered. <br /><br />“Where are we going?” Jake, being the seasoned mercenary he was, he didn’t just traipse off following a dragon to an unknown destination. <br /><br />“There is a cave up there,” Rudd’ard pointed to the mountains in the distance. “Some of us sheltered there during the Fall and escaped the fate of our kin.” His eyes fell to the bones we were all standing among. <br /><br />The mountains appeared azure blue in the haze and I guessed they were about fifty miles away. <br /><br />“Are there more of you up there?” Jake asked, fingering the blaster at his hip. He was cautious. It was what kept him alive all these years as a mercenary for hire. <br /><br />“We are the only ones currently on the planet,” Rudd’ard assured us. “And unless you handle the Sollen again, hopefully, it will stay that way.” <br /><br />Jake nodded and started off to the pod. I guess he had the feeling of the situation and decided it was safe to follow the two at least as far as the cave. <br /><br /><b>039.03</b><br /><br />“Isn’t he incredible?” I asked the guys as we followed along behind the flying dragon. The land below us was now obscured by the fog. We were racing along behind a red and black dragon over the tops of the clouds. His wings pumped seemingly effortlessly and yet we were at full throttle on Jake’s pod. <br /><br />“They are both fascinating,” Arr said from his place in the back. <br /><br /> He had given up his co-pilot’s seat to me. Luckily, Jake chose to leave Kay-o onboard his ship thinking it was best the beast was kept safely away from the high pitched noise. The Dar-dolf would have taken up both the seats in the back. <br /><br /> “They talk to us, but at the same time they communicate with each other on a different level. Like having a com-link tuned to two frequencies at once.” Arr rubbed his temples. <br /><br /> Jake saw the movement in his mirror. “You okay?” He asked his partner. <br /><br /> “It is very strong at this range.” <br /><br /> “Are we okay?” Jake asked. “We’re not walking into some kind of a trap? They said they wanted that Sollen thing.” <br /><br /> “No, not a trap,” Arr assured Jake. “They’re arguing. Rudd’ard seems to think they should have approached us differently. He is inclined to trust us to do what is right. Mul’drak is more cautious.” <br /><br /> “Do they know you can hear them?” Jake asked, as we came within sight of a huge cave in the side of the mountain. <br /><br />This part of the planet was not red, nor dusty. The rock was azure colored with veins of crystal which flowed over it making it look like white icing drizzled over a bluehazelberry cake. There was a large landing area outside the mouth of the cave which Mul’drak glided down upon, gripping it with claws that looked deadly even from our perspective in the pod. The dragon folded his wings and moved to one side to clear an area for Jake to land. Rudd’ard slid from his back. I could see his clawed feet bite into the rock for purchase. It was windy at this elevation. <br /><br /> “I don’t think they are aware I am listening in,” Arr said, as he unfastened his seat belt. “They know I can manipulate the Sollen for a type of communication, but I don’t have any indication they are filtering the high pitched language I hear or the pictures I keep seeing in my head.” <br /><br /> I unfastened my belt, swiveled the seat around and crawled out to the back. The idea of pictures in Arr’s head made me ask; “Pictures of what?” <br /><br /> “It’s like I can see their subconscious as they speak to me. Mul’drak’s mind is full of death and destruction. This planet burning. Dragons fighting humanoid creatures. Rudd’ard’s are more muted, like I am seeing them through the fog on this planet. Maybe they are not as strong.” <br /><br /> Jake hauled himself up out of his seat and patted me on the back as he passed headed for the hatch at the back. <br /><br /> “Keep your eyes open and your blasters ready,” he instructed. <br /><br /> <b>039.04</b><br /><br /> “This way,” Rudd’ard motioned with a hand as we stepped out of the pod. <br /><br /> Mul’drak sat on his haunches to one side, his tail curled around his feet like a large black cat. His intention was to obviously bring up the rear until Jake motioned for him to proceed. His unusual speckled eyes squinted, but he rose, turned and entered the cave ahead of Jake flicking his tail from side to side. <br /><br /> The interior of the cave was breathtaking. It was like walking into a massive geode. The ceiling and walls were covered with crystals that ranged in color from clear, through pale blue, to deep azure like the rock of the mountain outside. Jake walked to the nearest wall and laid his hand on one of the crystals thrusting out. <br /><br /> “Galnon,” he said in awe, “gem quality.” <br /><br /> Mul’drak growled deep in his throat. The growl echoed off the walls making it louder and more ominous. He ruffled his wings in agitation and then settled them back into place at his sides. As Arr had told us, he obviously did not trust humanoids. <br /><br /> Jake dropped his hand and moved back to join Arr and me following in Rudd’ard’s wake deeper into the cave. <br /><br /> Galnon was a crystal used in just about everything in the known verse. It was worth a lot of money. The stone was used much like diamonds were used on earth centuries ago. There were crystals from industrial to precious gem grade. Usually a galnon planet developed between two suns. The extreme heat of the two suns was what caused the formation of the crystals. When a planet was found it was often mined until nothing but a shell was left before the mining company moved on to another. I hadn’t seen two suns for this solar system. <br /><br /> The cave curved to the right. Following Rudd’ard, I came to such an abrupt halt that Jake bumped into me. The entrance was just a tunnel, the crystal lined tunnel spilled out into a gigantic domed room with niches carved in the crystal that must have once been sleeping areas for the dragons. The opening of each niche was hollowed out above a large crystal which stuck out from the wall making a convenient landing perch for the dragon. <br /><br /> “No one lives here any longer?” I asked. It seemed such a sad sight, a breathtakingly beautiful place totally devoid of life. It must have been incredible with black and red spotted dragons perched on each crystal, like huge birds in a glass cage. <br /><br /> “No,” Mul’drak surprised us by speaking up. He clawed irritably at the ground below his feet with a large black paw. “The ones that survived left after the Fall. The planet could no longer sustain us.” <br /><br /> Rudd’ard sat down on a chunk of crystal, his tail trailing out behind him. He motioned for us to take seats. The crystals scattered across the floor looked as though they were seats. They seemed orderly and there appeared to be smaller ones that might have been used as tables close at hand. <br /><br /> “This was the rookery,” Arr said, as his gaze circled the dome. <br /><br /> “It was,” Rudd’ard affirmed. “I wanted to bring you here so you would understand how important it is that you give us the Sollen. We must prevent the Valdare from ever killing our kind again. <br /><br />“This is where our story starts and hopefully with your help ends.” Rudd’ard said. “This cave used to be full of our kind, newly hatched, young and adult. The handful which took shelter here, when the Valdare attacked, were the only ones to survive. But the story of the Sollen starts long before the day of the Fall. Long before the Valdare even knew we existed. It started here with a young one named Tal’on and his great one named Graf’tal. It was their adventure that brought the Valdare down upon us, destroyed our planet, and almost killed off our kind - a kind that has lived for millennia under many names with many histories.”</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-35809053587999024982020-07-25T14:41:00.000-07:002020-07-25T14:41:16.587-07:00Star Trader Update .038<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>038.01</b><br /><br />At first, I didn’t know what woke me. I was just jolted awake by some unfamiliar noise. But then the sound rattled the hull of Ma-rye-a again. There was no mistaking it. It was Kay-o bellowing at the top of his lungs. His booming howl vibrated my chest as if I had the bass tuned up way too high on Ma-rye-a’s sound system. <br /><br />“What the…” I started to swear. <br /><br />I tumbled out of bed and headed out of my room and down the hall toward the guest room where Jake, Arr and Kay-o chose to spend the night rather than pod back over to their ship. We had a few too many drinks. They considered that room theirs anyway, so had tucked in for the night. <br /><br />The fact that I had one too many before retiring, was not helping my navigation down the hall. Jake came crashing out of the guest room. We collided head on. <br /><br />“What the…” Jake said. <a name='more'></a><br /><br />“That’s what I said,” I rubbed my temple as Kay-o let out with yet another ear splitting howl. <br /><br />“The lounge.” <br /><br />Jake pointed and hustled off ahead of me. I followed his half naked frame. He took enough time to slip on his pants, but he hadn’t grabbed a shirt or shoes. I always sleep in shorts and a huge t-shirt, makes it easier for emergencies like these, or worse. <br /><br />When Kay-o let out another wail, I wondered if he had injured himself. I had never heard him sound so pitiful. It did sound like he was in pain. <br /><br />The door to the lounge swished open. <br /><br />“I’m sorry…” Arr apologized immediately on seeing both our sleep deprived faces. <br /><br />He was sitting on the floor with his arms around Kay-o’s neck trying to comfort him. The artifact my parents gave me lay on the floor in front of them. <br /><br />Kay-o cried out again. Now that he had an audience he was inconsolable. <br /><br />“What is going on?” Jake demanded. <br /><br />Arr started to explain. “I couldn’t sleep.”<br /><br />Yeah, well, he hadn’t had any of the whiskey Jake brought over with him to celebrate our meet-up. The youngest of the three of us, he had the most sense when it came to drink. He stuck to his non-alcohol Muldavian Sunset Spritzers. <br /><br />“I thought I heard something when we looked at the stone earlier,” Arr indicated the artifact on the floor. “I thought it was more than just random sound.” <br /><br />Kay-o lowered his head and pawed at an ear. He whimpered pathetically. <br /><br />Arr rubbed the big lugs head affectionately. <br /><br />“I’m sorry, Kay-o,” he apologized. “I came in to see if I could stand the sound long enough to determine what it actually was.” He looked up to us. “It has different frequencies. I am sure it is some sort of communication device, but I didn’t think about its affect on Kay-o. I didn’t mean to hurt him.” He stroked Kay-o gently. <br /><br />The Dar-dolf lifted his head. He was going to howl again. <br /><br />“Nixs!” Jake ordered. <br /><br />Kay-o’s head dropped. He flopped down on the floor, his head on his paws. Jake went down on one knee to check in both of the Dar-dolf’s ears. <br /><br />“It’s not giving off any sound now?” Jake asked Arr to confirm. <br /><br />Arr shook his head. “Not unless someone touches it.” <br /><br />“He’s okay,” Jake pronounced. He scuffed up the ruff around Kay-o’s neck. “You’re okay, just milking for extra attention…huh?” <br /><br />Kay-o rose up and licked Jake affectionately on the nose. <br /><br />I swear the beast smiled. <br /><br />“Alright,” Jake said and pushed at the Dar-dolf’s head. “Go…” <br /><br />He pointed toward the door and flicked his fingers in the Merc sign language we all knew. Kay-o came to his feet and headed out the door. <br /><br />Arr rocked forward and started to pick up the artifact. <br /><br />“Nope,” Jake said, and Arr obeyed as well as Kay-o. He left it lying on the floor and took a chair. <br /><br />I collapsed into a chair myself. I didn’t have company aboard ship very often - especially such noisy company. <br /><br />Jake flopped into the last curvature chair and manipulated the controls on the arm to turn on the heat. He sunk into the chair and it molded itself over his shoulders and around his torso with a bit more maneuvering of the buttons. Guess he was cold without a shirt. He tucked his feet into the pocket on the footpad and looked quite comfortable now, as well as handsome, with his bare hairy chest peeking out from beneath the folds of the chair’s coverings. <br /><br />I left mine cold. If I got too comfy they would have to carry me back to bed. <br /><br />“Tell me what you found out,” he addressed Arr. <br /><br />“It has multiple tones depending on how you hold it and apply pressure. It was one of those that set Kay-o off. The more I listen to it, the more I think the vibration of it is just a side effect of the high frequencies it emits. I really think it is a communication device of some sort. I want to try and sort it out before we reach the planet.” <br /><br />Jake nodded his approval, than hit the retracting switch on his chair. He pulled my flat from its pocket on the arm, picked up the box the artifact had been packed in when it was given to me and with a flick of the flat, he flipped it back into the box. He handed the box to Arr. <br /><br />“Don’t play with it again until I get Kay-o back on the Calpernia,” he ordered. “I’m going back to bed.” <br /><br />He leaned over and gave me a peck on the cheek and ambled out the door. <br /><br />I smiled at Arr and he smiled back. He was like a kid with a new toy. He loved anything that had the slightest appearance of being another way to communicate. <br /><br /> <br /><b>038.02</b><br /><br />We spent over a week getting to the Planet Designated 014.666.2460. Arr took up residence on Ma-rye-a with me. Jake trailed along or led in the Calpernia with Kay-o. Arr stayed with me so he could study the artifact further. I couldn’t hear the sounds it emitted. Sometimes I could ‘feel’ a certain note. Yes, we had started thinking of the piece as an instrument. During rest periods along the way, we would once again tether the ships together in a safe location out of trade-route lanes. During these rests Arr would put the artifact away and Jake and Kay-o would come over for the evening and a meal where we would always, eventually, end up discussing the device. Arr learned he could ‘play’ it by exerting different amounts of pressure with his fingers. He was actually creating music, ethereal as it were, since none, but he could hear it, but he said it was quite pleasing once he was able to learn to manipulate it properly. <br /><br /> All of Arr’s people are musically inclined. The Henu all have perfect pitch and many play instruments. A gathering of his colony often ends up including an impromptu sing-a-long. <br /><br /> Arr’s people also purr, which seems to fit well in our humanoid conception of cats since all his people have the bright blue eyes with the cat shaped pupils. <br /><br />As Arr would sit or walk around the ship playing with the artifact I could hear his soft purr. The Henu purr for a variety of reasons. They do it to comfort themselves, when they feel pleasure, and also to raise their body temperature. Arr said playing with the artifact was both pleasurable and jarring at times when he hit something off the scale that made his teeth grind. <br /><br />The Henu also growl, though the adults mostly grow out of it. I would on occasion see Arr’s eyes narrow to slits and a growl would slip out. I knew then he had gone even beyond his ability to an ear splitting level on the artifact’s scale. <br /><br /> <b>038.03</b><br /><br />Today we arrived at our destination – Planet 014.666.2460. Arr was standing on the bridge with the artifact in his hand. His fingers drummed on it like a pianist fingers across keys. From up here in orbit the planet looked almost a uniform red in color with what looked like spotty dust storms or some other form of wind activity. Some of the landmass was shrouded in clouds which I thought might be extensions of the heavy fog we saw on the vid my Father had on his flat. <br /><br />Arr and my attention were on the viewport looking down at the planet when a dragon materialized on the bridge beside us. A dragon was the first thing that came to my mind when I saw it, even though I knew that was impossible. Dragons were the stuff of fairy tales and children’s imagination. Theories of the origin and possible links to real creatures had existed for millennia, but no evidence was ever found. They were the creatures of myth and legend only. <br /><br />The dragon was the size of a very large horse. It had tucked it wings, curled its tail around its feet, and lowered its head in order to fit into the empty space on my bridge. The first thing I noticed was its eyes. They looked like bloodstones. The full eye was deep red with speckles of black splashed in it as if someone had flicked a wet paint brush over its eyes. It had great curled horns which curved back over its head. They looked useless for stabbing, but heavy enough for butting. This black flecked pattern in the eyes seemed to bleed from them. It went across its muzzle to run down its cheeks, the sides of its neck and over its shoulders to spread out ‘spottily’ over the wings. The same pattern of irregular black specks started at the base of its skull and ran down its back where the black seemed to coagulate into a solid on its triple forked tail. A tail, which unlike the horns, looked as though it were for stabbing. <br /><br />The second thing I couldn’t help but notice was the dragon was not alone. The beast extended a wing and a lizard like creature, which had also lowered its body down close to the dragon’s neck to get into the allotted head space, slid from the dragon’s back. <br /><br />It was easily as tall as Targus, the Walhmite captain I knew who topped out at well over seven and a half feet tall. The creature stood on two legs with a tail extending behind it that exceeded the length of its legs. It had a dragon type snoot, with large canine teeth that protruded top and bottom from its jaws. Its feet and hands were similar in shape, three fingers with an opposable thumb. Long wickedly sharp claws extended from its fingers. It was also red in color, though more crimson then blood red. It had a pale cream colored belly and short cream colored nubs of horns growing on its head. I say ‘it’ because it had no clothes on, yet no genitalia was present. Some alien species have convenient sex glands that retract, so perhaps this one did too. The creature did not carry any weapon, but it did not look as though it would need any to deal with us. Not only did it have the formidable looking claws and wicked teeth, but it was extremely muscular and looked as though it was built for speed. <br /><br />It pointed toward the artifact in Arr’s hand. <br /><br />“What’s going on over there?” Jake’s voice boomed from the console on the bridge. “I’m reading two more life forms on the bridge.” <br /><br />The lizard’s head swiveled toward Jake’s voice. <br /><br />“Hold tight,” I said to Jake. “A couple of visitors have dropped in.” <br /><br />“Dropped in…” Jake started to say before I gave Ma-rye-a the high-sign to cut him off mid-sentence. <br /><br />The lizard brought his attention back to Arr and the device in his hand. I saw Arr’s fingers play lightly across the artifact. Both the lizard and the dragon’s eyes squinted almost closed as though they were in ecstasy. Arr finished and let the instrument sit in his open palm. The lizard’s eyes came open and it took a step toward Arr. Arr growled and his fingers curled up around the device again. He punched his thumb hard into the end of the artifact and both the lizard and the dragon shook their heads in unison as though they were choreographed to do so. Arr growled again. The dragon responded with an answering rumble in its throat, than extended its wing to allow the lizard to mount. As soon as the lizard was in place astride the dragon’s shoulders the two disappeared from the bridge. <br /><br />Arr and I both seemed to exhale at the same time in one collective sigh of relief. <br /><br />“Was that a dragon?” I asked for confirmation. <br /><br />“It appears so, and this,” Arr held out the artifact in his hand, “appears to be a Dragoncall.”</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-24189159386105203092020-07-19T16:21:00.003-07:002020-07-19T16:21:42.427-07:00Star Trader Update .037<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>037.01</b><br /><br />“I’ll be fine,” I assured Marstead. “I think I need space. I need my mind to work on something other than who might be waiting to grab me next time I go into the city. For that matter, who might break into my ship and wreak more havoc.” <br /><br />“I can’t keep you safe out there,” Marstead waved his hand in the general direction of everything. I was glad he was on the comlink rather than here beside me or he might have managed to convince me to stay. I really didn’t know why I was going. I just had a gut feeling I needed to go to my parent’s dig. Or, maybe that gut feeling was the breakfast Moby made for me that wasn’t settling very well. <br /><br />“You don’t need to keep me safe, Marstead.” I tried to give him a reassuring smile. “I am a big girl and I can take care of myself.”<i> Yeah, right.</i> Some of my friends could tell stories about that. “I’ll keep in contact. I’ll send messages daily if that will make you feel better. It’s not that far away. I can be there in no time.” <a name='more'></a><br /><br />“Call Jake, take him and Arr with you,” Marstead advised. <br /><br />Jake and Arr were mercenary friends and the closest thing I had to siblings. I thought of them as brothers even though they were just old friends. <br /><br />“You can afford to pay them if you need to. You should have backup. You’re going into the Solar system this space trash came from.” <br /><br />Marstead was right. So I agreed, provided Jake and Arr weren’t busy with some other mission. <br /><br />Marstead made one last plea. “I wish you would let Luchin look into this. When he makes the connection you did to the preps home world he’ll send someone anyway.” <br /><br />“Well, then, we can meet up,” I said with another reassuring smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to worry you, but I feel it’s me that has to see this place. It was the mystery Mom and Dad left me to investigate.” <br /><br />“I know, but I just don’t think they realized what kind of mission they were sending you on, Sweetie.” <br /><br />Maybe not, but I was going anyway. <br /><br /><b>037.02</b><br /><br />I hugged Jake around the waist as he squeezed me back. <br /><br />“Great to see you,” I said, as I pulled away. <br /><br />I turned to Arr and gave him a big hug too until Kay-o pushed his huge head between us to get his share of attention. <br /><br />“Good to be here,” Jake responded. <br /><br />I asked the guys to meet me here so we could talk about what I was planning and see if they wanted to join in. Since I most likely had some kind of bad mojo on my tail I decided to offer Jake and Arr some monetary compensation for accompanying me. With them at my back, I knew I would be as safe as anyone could be in space. <br /><br />Jake was a seasoned mercenary and Arr his relatively new partner. Jake knew everything there was about protecting and fighting. Arr was learning, but made up for his shortcomings in battle with the fact that he could learn any language just by listening. He was nothing short of brilliant with linguistics and already spoke over one hundred languages. As for Kay-o, he was the largest protect Dar-dolf I had ever seen and had saved all our lives on Ukhta a while back. <br /><br />“Hope you remembered some Goo Chews.” Arr smiled, as Kay-o nuzzled my hand. <br /><br />The Dar-dolf was the size of a small horse and had the uncanny addiction to a sickeningly sweet candy called Red Raspberry Goo Chews. It was the way Jake and Arr kept him under control and the way they introduced him to folks they wanted him to like. They gave you a bag of the candy and had you toss them to the beast until he stopped growling and recognized you were one of his favorites. <br /><br />“Right here.” I pulled a handful out of my pocket and tossed one to Kay-o. You didn’t want to get too near those teeth. Anyway, he liked catching them mid-air and he could get more out of one of those little chews than anyone else I had ever seen. I tossed him another. <br /><br />“I laid in a supply and some chow too.” I grinned at the beast, slipped him another chew and hugged him around the neck running my fingers deep into his fur. “You guys hungry?” <br /><br />“Starving if Moby is cooking,” Jake grinned. <br /><br />He loved Moby’s cooking and knew mine left a bit to be desired. <br /><br />“Moby has been prepping for the last two days.” I started to lead the way to the galley. <br /><br />Jake coupled his ship, the Calpernia, to Ma-rye-a. We were in a nice quiet piece of airspace with lots of room for Ma-rye-a and Sam to see anyone approaching in time to give us a head’s up in order to mount a defensive. I felt pretty relaxed and ready to sit down with friends to eat and catch up. <br /><br /><b>037.03</b><br /><br />Jake mopped up his plate with a piece of Moby’s homemade sourdough bread. He had consumed a large steak, baked potato, greens and a special berry sauce Moby knew Jake favored. Meanwhile, I had fed half my huge steak to Kay-o and become his favorite person on board my ship… at least for the moment. <br /><br />“That was delicious, Moby,” Jake complimented. <br /><br />“It really was,” Arr added. <br /><br />He managed to make a good dent in his food, but I saw him slipping treats to Kay-o too. Moby’s eyes were bigger than all our stomachs. My chef aimed to please. <br /><br />“I have berry cobbler for dessert,” Moby offered over the speakers in the galley. <br /><br />“Ugh,” I groaned. “Can we wait a little bit?” <br /><br />I was so full I felt the need to lie down and unbutton the top button of my pants. <br /><br />“That okay with you guys,” I asked hopefully. <br /><br />“Sure,” Arr agreed. <br /><br />“Later with a game of CU,” Jake suggested. <br /><br />Jake loved cards and CU was his favorite game. <br /><br />“Have you gotten any better at winning against Arr?” I asked. <br /><br />Last time we played Jake complained that Arr cheated. He didn’t really. Arr has exceptional hearing and could actually hear Jake’s heartbeat speed up when he got excited about a winning hand. <br /><br />“He’s learning to control it.” Arr grinned. <br /><br />“Really?” I smiled at Jake. “Been practicing deep meditation?” <br /><br />You have no idea how funny this question is unless you know Jake. With Jake what you see is what you get, and what you get is a handsome, six foot four, fighting machine with an intense desire to do right and protect the folks he loves. Not a deep thinker here. <br /><br />“Yeah…Right…” Jake grinned. “It turns out breathing settles it. I just have to take the position like I am in a fight.” <br /><br />“It’s working,” Arr said. <br /><br />But, I wondered if Arr was just choosing not to listen. <br /><br />“So what did you call us out for?” Jake asked, changing the subject. He didn’t like being the center of attention unless it involved a lovely woman and a glass of your best whiskey. <br /><br />“Let’s move to the lounge. I have something to show you.” I stood and led the way. <br /><br /><b>037.04</b><br /><br />“Whoa!” Jake said as the camera panned up and over the length of the wing in the vid my father took on Planet 014.666.2460. <br /><br />The vid came to an end. I had told the guys about what happened to my parents over dinner. I’d caught them up on the incidents in port with the break-in at the UOA and my ship. I told them about the talent that had the ability to deactivate and delete Sam. Now, I turned to the guys. <br /><br />“I want to show you one more thing.” <br /><br />I picked up the box that held the artifact my folks left me. I opened it. <br /><br />“My folks picked this up where that vid was taken. They left it to me.” <br /><br />I handed the box to Jake. <br /><br />“What is it?” He asked as he picked it up. <br /><br />“Ahhh!” Arr screamed. “Put it down!” He yelled. <br /><br />Jake let it drop back into its velvet cradle. <br /><br />“What?” He looked at Arr’s pained face. <br /><br />“Can you hear it?” I asked. <br /><br />“Hear what?” Jake demanded. <br /><br />Arr hadn’t been able to get a word in edgewise. He held up his hand for silence. <br /><br />“Yes, I can hear it,” he directed at me, “and there is a very high pitched, ear splitting sound that emitted from that thing,” he pointed to the artifact, “the minute you touched it.” <br /><br />“All I felt was a vibration,” Jake said apolitically. “I didn’t hear anything.” He looked at me for confirmation. <br /><br />“I only knew it gave off the sound cause Mom and Dad told me so in their letter that came with it. I had no idea you would be able to hear it.” <br /><br />“It’s more like I felt it,” Arr said. <br /><br />“What is it?” Jake asked. <br /><br />“I don’t know, but I think we need to find out,” I said, as I took it back from Jake. “I believe that ‘it’ is what the guys who killed my parents were after.”</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-74507182225269073372020-07-11T20:27:00.000-07:002020-07-19T16:22:38.117-07:00Star Trader Update .036<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>036.01</b><br />
<br />
“Calm down,” Daniel soothed. “I can fix this.” <br />
<br />
I thumbed tears from my eyes. I know I looked pitiful. I am not one of those pretty criers. My face gets all blotchy and my eyes turn red. <br />
<br />
“How?” I asked in disbelief. <br />
<br />
Even though I had total confidence in Daniel I thought it was hopeless. I actually called him because I knew I could not function in my profession without an AI to handle the loading and unloading of cargo. I figured I would have Daniel program me another as soon as possible. <br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
“Every time you come in for maintenance checks I do a backup,” Daniel said with a smile. “I checked the crew a little less than a year ago. He’ll be missing any current memories, but other than that, he’ll be fine.” <br />
<br />
“You have a SAM!” I almost shouted with relief. <br />
<br />
“What kind of a geeky tech guy would I be without the habit of constantly backing up all systems I have my fingers on?” Daniel grinned at me from his gaming chair across the Solar system. “Let me remote link into Ma-rye-a and I can have him uploaded in no time.” <br />
<br />
I leaned forward and kissed the screen. “Have I told you lately how great you are?” <br />
<br />
“Not near often enough,” Daniel said with a smile. “I need a lot more ego stroking from you, Woman.” <br />
<br />
<b>036.02</b><br />
<br />
“He lawyered up almost immediately,” Marstead said of the perp they picked up who broke into my ship. “He is tight as a spiral twisting cluster vine. We won’t be getting any information out of him.” <br />
<br />
Captain Luchin let Marstead sit in the mirrored room off the interrogation cell. He saw everything. <br />
<br />
“I want you to drop anchor and stay here for a while until we can get this figured out,” he advised. <br />
<br />
No, he wasn’t advising… really Marstead sounded like he was giving orders to his troops. I don’t take orders well. <br />
<br />
“I have a business to carry on with,” I told him. “I can’t be lying in port for weeks. The maintenance on the ship is finished. Sam has been reinstalled, brought up-to-date, and beta tested. I have had my annuals with all the plethora of inoculations. And, I have my jaw mike. Tomorrow morning I am out of here.” <br />
<br />
“I don’t think it is safe, 3su,” Marstead stated flatly. <br />
<br />
“Well, I will wear my blaster at all times, if that will help ease your worries.” <br />
<br />
I really loved Marstead and the fact that other than my parents he was one of the few people who loved and cared deeply for me. He also knew me well enough to know that if he pushed any harder I would fly out tonight instead of tomorrow. He backed off. <br />
<br />
“Well, you’re still joining me for dinner... right?” <br />
<br />
“Of course,” I said with a smile. “Carrie would be heartbroken if I didn’t wear that exquisite blue concoction she found for me on the NET for our last night in port.” It was a dress, something I hardly ever wear. It was lovely and it needed showing off. “I’ll see you at six with bells on.” The dress really did have tiny bells all around the hem. I could hardly wait to show it off. <br />
<br />
<b>036.03</b><br />
<br />
“3su may I talk to you for a moment?” Ma-rye-a asked. <br />
<br />
I had just finished the lock down check with Sam upon returning from my evening with Marstead. I was headed for my room to get ready for bed, with my heels in hand. I had kicked them off the minute I got on board. <br />
<br />
“Sure,” I responded. “I’m just going to get comfy. Can we talk while I do that?” <br />
<br />
I tossed my shoes toward the closet and started to slip out of my dress. <br />
<br />
“Horus and I did some research while you were out,” Ma-rye-a started. “We obtained the booking records from Captain Luchin’s files.” <br />
<br />
“Wait!” I held up a hand. “You hacked the Captain’s NET base?” <br />
<br />
Not a legal action on any planet. Not something I would have thought my crew would do without my authorization. Maybe I would have to have Daniel throttle back their thought processor a wee bit. A captain of a ship was responsible for the actions of its AI crew. <br />
<br />
“We were in and out in milliseconds,” Horus assured me. <br />
<br />
“Left no trace signatures behind,” Ma-rye-a chimed in. <br />
<br />
“Sam?” I growled. “Were you in on this too?” <br />
<br />
“Just enough to make sure it was done correctly,” he answered. <br />
<br />
Meaning he had planned it and gotten around their security. I just shook my head. Nothing to be done for it now but wait and see if Luchin showed up at my bay door with a detachment to take me prisoner. <br />
<br />
“Okay, so what were you all up to?” <br />
<br />
“Not all,” Carrie squeaked. “I didn’t have anything to do with it.” <br />
<br />
“Well, for once you showed the best sense, Carrie,” I complimented her. <br />
<br />
If Carrie and Moby were involved, we would have really been in trouble. Neither one of them could handle more than a wardrobe or menu selection. <br />
<br />
“Naturally, we heard the communication from Marstead,” Horus said. “I wondered if they were missing something.” <br />
<br />
“And Horus was right, we think,” Ma-rye-a added tentatively. <br />
<br />
When neither one spoke up I prodded, “Well?” <br />
<br />
“The man who broke into the ship is from a planet in the Mangus system. A native of a planet just a matter of days from Planet Designated 014.666.2460. The planet your parents were on before they were killed at the Arcanian dig.” <br />
<br />
<b>037.04</b><br />
<br />
“Project it on the big screen,” I told Ma-rye-a. <br />
<br />
I had Ma-rye-a open the file on Planet Designation 014.666.2460. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I wanted to see it bigger then my small screen on the chair arm. <br />
<br />
“Wow!” I exclaimed. <br />
<br />
“Indeed,” Horus said with admiration. <br />
<br />
“Are those bones?” Carrie asked innocently. <br />
<br />
“Huge bones,” Ma-rye-a confirmed. <br />
<br />
Whoever was recording the picture was panning slowly from their far left to far right. The area was clouded with a thick fog, but it looked like the old earth imaginary pictures of elephant graveyards. But they weren’t elephants. They were some other kind of beast whose rib cage was huge. Bones jutted up out of the fog like church spires. <br />
<br />
The camera panned to the right and we could see the bones that comprised a very long tail. Then the camera panned back to the rib cage. <br />
<br />
“Can you go over and stand by them for height comparison,” my father said on the recording. <br />
<br />
My breath caught at the sound of his soft tenor. <br />
<br />
My mother moved into the camera’s recording frame and went to stand beside one of the huge bones of the rib cage. She was elated. She had a huge grin on her face like a child who had just seen their birthday cake enter the room all lit with candles. <br />
<br />
“Dr. Snyder is approximately 5 feet 8 inches tall. As you can see the length of this bone is easily twice her height,” Dad explained, as he started to walk toward Mom. <br />
<br />
With the camera still running they continued to walk the length of the beast. At the top edge of the rib cage they stopped when my Mother let out a squeal and Dad almost dropped the camera. <br />
<br />
“Honey, look!” she cried in excitement. “It had wings.” <br />
<br />
Dad’s camera swung down to ground level and panned the long length of the extensive pattern of wing bones laid out in the red dirt of the plant’s surface. The length was such that it disappeared off into the dense fog. Mother walked into the frame and out along the wing. <br />
<br />
“It must be close to thirty feet long,” she said. <br />
<br />
Mother’s gaze rose from the ground to look back toward Dad and further in the direction they had been traveling. <br />
<br />
“Oh My God!” she exclaimed. “Alex! Look!” she pointed behind him. <br />
<br />
The camera panned up and around from the wing and for a moment was lost as it must have been dropped to Dad’s side as he ran forward. The view was of the ground and not of what had surprised Mom. But the narrative continued. <br />
<br />
Mom said, “Can you believe it? Oh…Alex, look!” <br />
<br />
The camera was raised again and the lens was filled with a massive jaw and huge teeth until Dad pulled away from the close up and panned out. <br />
<br />
“Damn, it looks like a dinosaur,” I said. <br />
<br />
“Or a dragon,” Carrie added. <br />
<br />
Mom and Dad were still talking on camera, but I was too engrossed in the pictures to pay much attention to what they were saying. I found myself approaching the screen as though a closer look would somehow make more sense of what I saw. I traced one long incisor with my fingertip on the screen. <br />
<br />
“Ma-rye-a, plot a course to Planet Designation 014.666.2460.”</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-67812851623373416522020-07-04T13:32:00.000-07:002020-07-19T16:23:29.182-07:00Star Trader Update .035<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>035.01</b><br />
<br />
“Tilt your head a little further toward me,” the dentist instructed. <br />
<br />
I obliged and felt the jaw mike snap into place over my back molar. <br />
<br />
“That should do it,” she announced. “Give it a try.” <br />
<br />
I ordered the mike over a year ago, but hadn’t been anywhere with the facilities to install it. This layman’s variety of a jaw mike, unlike the Galactic Forces model, was not actually installed in the jaw surgically. Theirs was far more sophisticated. For this model, the wearer had one of their back molar’s ground down like you were prepping for a crown, but instead the mike was fit over the tooth. <br />
<br />
I leaned up and took my “Ear” out of my pocket and stuck it in. <br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
“Just touch the top of the mike with your tongue,” Dr. Hval instructed. <br />
<br />
I placed my tongue on the top of my now ‘mike-tooth.’ The mike was remotely locked onto Ma-rye-a. <br />
<br />
“Ma-rye-a can you hear me?” I asked my ship. <br />
<br />
“Loud and clear, Captain,” Ma-rye-a answered clearly in my Ear. <br />
<br />
I could hear background cheering from all my AI crew. We had been waiting for this for over a year. This kind of device would keep me in contact with them. It had an almost unlimited range. <br />
<br />
“Well?” Dr. Hval asked. <br />
<br />
“Perfect.” I smiled at her. <br />
<br />
“As advised earlier in the literature I sent you, I would encourage you to have it checked and a maintenance run on it once a year.” She put my chair back up into the full upright position. “If you call ahead we can have a tech handy to run the check right after your annual cleaning.” <br />
<br />
“Thank you, doctor.” I extended my hand. <br />
<br />
“I hope it is as useful as you anticipate. I hated grinding down a perfectly good tooth.” <br />
<br />
I was blessed with great teeth. Not a cavity or crown among them and straight as fence posts. <br />
<br />
“I appreciate you doing it for me even if it was against your better judgment.” I slipped out of the chair. <br />
<br />
<b>035.02</b><br />
<br />
“How did it go?” Marstead asked. <br />
<br />
I slid into the seat next to him. <br />
<br />
He insisted on accompanying me to the dentist. He said it was either him or one of Luchin’s officers. He was not going to let me go unprotected until they caught the folks who ransacked my parents' quarters on the UOA campus. I tried to assure him I could take care of myself, but he was having none of it. I could see the bulge of his blaster under his suit coat. I, on the other hand, wore mine quite visibly on my hip. I had my license handy if someone questioned me, but it wasn’t likely. This was a port city and folks were used to armed citizens. <br />
<br />
I leaned over close to him with my Ear next to his so he could hear the spillover. <br />
<br />
“Say hello to Marstead, Ma-rye-a.”<br />
<br />
“Hello, Admiral,” Ma-rye-a replied in a raised voice. <br />
<br />
“Nice.” He leaned back in the seat and smiled. “I must admit I do feel better with the installation of it.” <br />
<br />
“I’m surprised you never had one installed in all your years of military service.” <br />
<br />
Many of the upper level military had them. Once they were connected to the LE address of your designated receiver it was the most efficient means of communication. <br />
<br />
“I did at one time, but had it removed and the tooth replaced years ago after I retired. I didn’t have any more use for it. Who was I going to talk to… my house monitor?” <br />
<br />
Marstead was right. There were computers, flats, cuffs and slap-ons that you could use to do the mundane things in day-to-day life. I could sell my slap-on now that I had the jaw mike. I might even get a nice price for it since it was a newer model, lightweight and Daniel had even programmed it with a few games to help pass the time while I was waiting for deliveries and not on board Ma-rye-a. <br />
<br />
“Carrie? Can you put my slap-on up for sale on the NET? See what you can get,” I said. <br />
<br />
“Will do,” Carries confirmed in my Ear. I was enjoying this instant gratification already. If I had been using the slap-on just now, instead of the mike, I would have needed to pull up my sleeve and do some fancy finger work before I could give orders. This ‘talk’, and have done with it, was great. <br />
<br />
“I’ll be home is a couple of hours,” I told my crew. I knew they were all listening. “Going to spend some quality time with Marstead before I head back.” <br />
<br />
“We’ll be waiting for you, Cap,” Sam said. <br />
<br />
I ran me tongue over the top of the mike to turn it off. “I am all yours for the rest of the afternoon,” I announced. <br />
<br />
“Great.” Marstead leaned forward and punched an address into the cruiser’s controls. “Next stop lunch.” <br />
<br />
<b>035.03</b><br />
<br />
I almost choked on my luncheon roll. My eyes must have grown wide because Marstead leaned across the table and placed his hand over mine in a show of concern. <br />
<br />
There was no need to remove the EAR receiver earlier when I was finished talking to my shop. It is designed to allow normal sound to filter through. So, I was not necessarily surprised when I heard Ma-rye-a whisper in my ear. I was however surprised and shocked by what she was saying. <br />
<br />
I pulled my hand out from under Marstead’s and jumped to my feet. <br />
<br />
“Someone has broken into my ship. We have to go! Now!” <br />
<br />
<br />
<b>035.04</b><br />
<br />
By the time we arrived Marstead had already notified Luchin, Luchin had sent back-up and they were there with the culprit in custody. The Captain of the Galactic Forces had not spared time or staff in executing a team to take the perp down. I could count more than ten men there including the Captain himself. <br />
<br />
Luchin’s men were pushing the guy into a GF van as we parked. <br />
<br />
The Captain strode up to the cruiser. <br />
<br />
“He disabled your security and, when we arrived, he was working on shutting down the ship totally so there would be no evidence of his being here. I’m taking him to headquarters for questioning.” He nodded to his second in command and the man hoped in the cruised to speed away. “We did a sweep of the area. He appears to be alone. I want you to look over your ship. He didn’t have anything on him, but I want you to make sure nothing is missing,” Luchin said. “He took down your security pretty damn efficiently, so he may have tech that could have transported something out before we got to him.” <br />
<br />
I nodded and rushed aboard Ma-rye-a. <br />
<br />
“Ma-rye-a? Are you alright?” I stepped up on the platform. <br />
<br />
“I am fine,” she responded, “but Sam is gone.” <br />
<br />
“Gone? Like shut off, right?”<br />
<br />
“No,” she said quietly. “He isn’t here anymore.” <br />
<br />
“He has to be.” I sped though the ship to the bridge. <br />
<br />
“No,” she said again. “The intruder wiped his program.” <br />
<br />
“We didn’t know he was gone until it was too late,” Horus explained. “We all felt the ‘space’ as soon as it happened, but then…” His voice trailed off. <br />
<br />
“What will we do?” Carrie asked. “He’s always been here.” <br />
<br />
Carrie sounded as lost as I felt. Sam was my second AI and the most important of my crew this side of Ma-rye-a. I didn’t know how to function without him. I sat down in the pilot seat and broke into tears. I thought I didn’t have any more tears to shed after my parent’s death, but like a mother who had lost a child, I cried for the loss of Sam.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-27952089321455869502020-06-27T09:33:00.000-07:002020-07-19T16:23:45.925-07:00Star Trader Update .034<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>034.01</b><br />
<br />
I sat in the lounge aboard my ship flipping through the pictures on mom and dad’s flat. <br />
<br />
“How old were you there,” Horus asked. <br />
<br />
Horus is one of five disembodied AIs I have on board my ship. All of them programmed by my dear friend, Daniel Dresden, one of – if not the most, talented programmer in the verse. Why he chose me as a friend I will never know, because I don’t know squat about programming and couldn’t carry on a conversation about software if I tried. That said, I really do appreciate Daniel’s handiwork especially when I am on long deliveries by myself, because heck, I am never really by myself. Space is a lonely place, but I always have company. <br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
Horus was programmed with a British accent as a Daniel ‘joke,’ but I love it. Horus is a very rational program and a deep thinker. We play chess together and he helps me think straight in a crisis. Ma-rye-a is my ship as well as my pilot/co-pilot depending on what I am occupied with at the time. Sam is my security and freight guy. He has control over the equipment in the pod bay and can load and unload most everything without my assistance. He also has my back throughout the ship in the form of sensors and lasers. Cassie is my entertainment guru. She knows my interests and surfs the net daily to find entertaining tidbits for me to read or scan when I have down time. She is also my fashionista. And then there is Moby, my cook and nutritionist. He probably took the most tweaking to get right since I am not into healthy living as much as happy living, especially when I’m on a long boring space flight. <br />
<br />
When I got back on board yesterday I connected mom and dad’s flat to Ma-rye-a and I was sharing old family photos with them. <br />
<br />
“I was about nine or ten,” I answered. <br />
<br />
I studied the picture. I couldn’t have been any older them ten because mom cut my hair all off the summer of my eleventh birthday. We were on Milantia and had to wear spacesuits. I kept complaining that my hair was always in my face within the helmet. I remember how it would tickle and you couldn’t scratch. Mom tried everything, putting it in a ponytail, braiding it, nothing seemed to work, so she cut it all off short like a boys. I’ve worn it short ever since. Even did the bald look for a while when it was in fashion. <br />
<br />
“You were so cute in braids,” Cassie giggled. “Maybe you should grow your hair out.” <br />
<br />
She’s like your favorite girlfriend and always acts like a teenager at a sleep-over. <br />
<br />
“I was ten,” I said and rolled my eyes. <br />
<br />
“I like it the way it is,” Sam said. His comment was almost drowned out by the hiss of the steam line he was using to clean the pod bay deck while we were in dock. <br />
<br />
“You are one of the few men I know that like women with short hair,” I said. <br />
<br />
“I have good taste,” Sam joked back. <br />
<br />
How Daniel managed to program so much humor and personality into my AIs I have no idea, but I love him for it. They are like family. <br />
<br />
An orange spice tea appeared at my elbow in the prep unit attached to the chair. <br />
<br />
“Thank you, Moby,” I said. <br />
<br />
The tea was followed by a chocolate chip cookie bigger than the palm of my hand. <br />
<br />
“Wonderful,” I said. <br />
<br />
They heard me crying earlier when I got back from my visit with Marstead last night. They were all doing their best to cheer me up. That was the only thing about having them around, they were always around. I could silence them, even turn Horus, Cassie and Moby off, but I would never chance turning off Ma-rye-a and Sam. And what would be the use anyway? Once I activated the three I turned off, they would have access to Ma-rye-a’s data base and just download what she overheard. We lived as a very close knit family and during this time it was kind of a good thing. I was appreciating the attention. <br />
<br />
“Oh, I like that one,” Ma-rye-a said. “You look so masterful,” she joked. <br />
<br />
It was me at about thirteen in a Glucl’ock costume for a class play. Leave it to me to be cast as the monster. I stood bent over at the waist, extended costume arms dragging bony, blood red knuckles on the floor as my serrated tail trailed along behind me. <br />
<br />
“Yeah, right…It is so me.” I smiled, closed the file and went to the one marked 014.666.2460. I was just about to open it when Ma-rye-a announced; <br />
<br />
“Call coming in from Marstead.” <br />
<br />
“Put it through down here please,” I said. “Marstead, whatsup?” I asked as his face appeared on the screen. A worried looked turned into a relieved one almost instantly. <br />
<br />
“You’re all right?” He asked. <br />
<br />
“Doing better.” After all, I had known my parents were gone for over six months now. I cried myself to sleep for several days when I first heard. It was the good memories I was trying to remember now. <br />
<br />
“Is Sam on duty?” Marstead asked. He was familiar with my crew. <br />
<br />
“He’s always on duty,” I answered, “why?” <br />
<br />
I rose up straighter in my chair and pulled the monitor attached to the arm a little closer. Marstead was agitated. I hadn’t seen him this way since I was hurt a while back on a mission with Jake and Arr. He wanted to call my parents then and I had to talk him out of it. I didn’t want to worry them. In fact, I wouldn’t have called Marstead. Jake did that upon our return. He thought family should know and he didn't know where mom and dad were at the time. But, Jake knew Marstead. In fact, he had actually helped my mercenary friend out of a jam with his legal expertise once. <br />
<br />
“Your parent’s housing was broken into. Housekeeping was going to do a final paint this week, before the new faculty member moved in. They found it a shambles this morning. The UOA just thought to inform me an hour ago. I spoke with Captain Luchin. He thinks it might have been the same people who were at your parent’s dig. He said they were looking for something. The furniture was all broken up and cushions torn, pictures pulled off the wall. They were looking for a safe.” Marstead stopped to take a breath. <br />
<br />
“Incoming call from Captain Luchin,” Ma-rye-a announced. <br />
<br />
“Conference, please,” I requested. <br />
<br />
My screen split and the Captain’s face appeared on the other side of it. <br />
<br />
“Captain,” I acknowledged. “I have Marstead on the call as well. He tells me you believe the people who tossed my parent’s housing were the same who were at the site.” <br />
<br />
“I believe so, though I have no proof. They are experienced and left no evidence behind.” The Captain cracked his knuckles on two hands. “My thought is they were after something in particular. Perhaps something mentioned in your parent’s notes, which were stolen as well. I also believe that the next place they will look is the UOA gallery where your parent’s collection is being cataloged and stored. I am going to set up surveillance there, but I wanted to check your status.” <br />
<br />
“I’m fine,” I looked at both men questioningly. “You don’t think they would come here?” <br />
<br />
“If they know about Alex and Laura having a daughter and they find out you are in dock here, they just might make a move on you,” Marstead said before the Captain could. His military training was showing.<br />
<br />
“I am going to send a couple of men around to post guard at your dock entrance,” Luchin said. “It won’t hurt to error on the side of caution.” <br />
<br />
“If you think it is necessary,” I agreed. <br />
<br />
“I do,” the two men said almost simultaneously. <br />
<br />
“You should lock up tight and put Sam on alert,” Marstead advised. <br />
<br />
“Okay,” I mumbled. They were succeeding in scaring me. <br />
<br />
“I can come by and bring you anything you might need tonight,” Marstead offered. <br />
<br />
“I’m fine,” I said. “I was just sitting around reminiscing. I wasn’t intending on going out.” <br />
<br />
“Good,” they both said together. <br />
<br />
They were definitely cut from the same cloth. <br />
<br />
“My men will be there in about ten minutes. Don’t open to anyone, not even them. They will not ask to come in. They have orders to remain vigilant outside. If someone asks to enter, they are the bad guys,” Captain Luchin advised. <br />
<br />
“Gotcha,” I said. <br />
<br />
“I’ll call you tomorrow morning,” Marstead said. “Maybe we can have breakfast together. I can bring something by.” <br />
<br />
“Just come,” I advised him. “Moby’s supplies were just delivered. I will have him whip us up an omelet and some of his home fries.” <br />
<br />
“See you in the morning.” <br />
<br />
I signed off. <br />
<br />
“Sam? You heard?” I asked. <br />
<br />
“Battening down the hatches as we speak,” he confirmed. “On board sensors up and functioning. Lasers set to kill.” <br />
<br />
“Stand down MightyMan,” I said referring to a cartoon character from my childhood past. “Lasers on stun will do sufficiently. If they come snooping around and get past Luchin’s guards, I want to ask some questions of my own.”</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-82924283304341722522020-06-20T19:28:00.000-07:002020-07-19T16:23:59.857-07:00Star Trader Update .033<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>033.01</b><br />
<br />
It was yet another day and my third without a decent night’s sleep. This time Marstead sat across from me behind the desk in his office on the sixty-fourth floor of the Marstead building. I told you he was a famous trial attorney. He dabbles in other things as well. <br />
<br />
“I know you are familiar with all this, but we have to go through it to satisfy the legality of the estate’s distribution and closing,” Marstead explained. <br />
<br />
Collin, Marstead’s assistant, came in carrying a tray with all the accouterments for tea. He set the tray down on the table between the two Chippendale sofas behind us. Once he set the service off, poured, and placed the small two tiered plate of savories and sweets in place, he nodded Marstead’s direction. <br />
<br />
“Will you give us about fifteen minutes and then bring it in?” Marstead asked. <br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
“Of course,” Collin replied. He took the tray and dismissed himself. <br />
<br />
I gave Marstead a questioning look. <br />
<br />
“Later,” he said with a smile and motioned me toward the table. “Let’s have some tea and I will run you through the distribution.” <br />
<br />
We adjourned to the sofas. I must admit I was grateful for the tea. From a very young age my mother solved all family-to-universal problems over a cup of tea. There was something reassuring in picking up that cup and saucer and taking my first sip. It was almost like a balm to my soul. <br />
<br />
“Alex and Laura were very thorough with their planning. Your parents didn’t want you to have to worry about anything,” Marstead started explaining as he put sugar in his tea. “Their residence on the UOA campus reverted back to the Order along with all the furnishings. Their private art and antiquities collection was donated in your family name to the museum on campus with a trust to maintain it for the duration. Their personal items were donated to a local shelter except for a few things my staff and I thought you might want, your parent’s flat and your mother’s limited collection of jewelry.” <br />
<br />
At this statement we smiled at each other. Mother always had her hands in dirt so she never wore any jewelry other than a pair of pearl earrings my father gave her on their first anniversary and her simple platinum wedding band. The flat would be the valuable thing to me. It would have all the family pictures on it, letters stored from years of correspondence back and forth between us and their friends. It would also have their personal journals. The one in their home on the UOA campus backed up every night from their field equipment. <br />
<br />
“Did Captain Luchin have a chance to look at the flat to see if it had anything useful on it?” I asked. <br />
<br />
“He did and there had not been an entry since their arrival at the dig.” He stirred and then sipped his tea. “They came home from their previous assignment on a distant little speck of a planet so small it had nothing other than a designation number. We had time enough to say hello and almost finish dinner. They were very excited about the dig they just came from. Alex said it was so special they were going to write a paper on it for publication. I didn’t get to hear the details because during dinner they were called by the UOA to head off to Titan Sirus 3 immediately.” <br />
<br />
I reached out and picked up a cucumber sandwich. I hadn’t eaten much of anything lately, but the sandwich looked good. <br />
<br />
“The UOA sends them off in such an all-fired hurry and yet they don’t know what the dig was?” I asked with disbelief. <br />
<br />
“I don’t think Captain Luchin wanted to get your hopes up and the UOA asked him to keep it hush-hush. The Captain and I were told it was an early Arcanian colony, so they do have undercover detectives keeping their ears and eyes open for anything remotely resembling artifacts from that culture.” Marstead picked up a savory himself and bit off a mouthful. He finished chewing and went on. “The trouble as it has been explained to me is there are a lot of Arcanian artifacts already out there on the market. However, this was supposed to be a much older site and would have pre-dated anything previously found.” He wiped his hand on the napkin draped across his knee. “The UOA intends to send another team out in order to see if anything might still be there that was not excavated prior to the thieves showing up. They are going to send a security team with the archaeologist this time.” <br />
<br />
The Arcanian’s were older than the Valarian culture with a lot less written history, so a find, any find, would have been of immense interest to the UOA. A find that predated any previous dig would have been an exceptional discovery. No wonder they were secretive about it. No wonder the thieves had moved in when they somehow got wind of it. <br />
<br />
There was a light knock on the door and Marstead called for Collin to come in. <br />
<br />
Collin walked around the back of my couch with a small, dark blue box and an envelope. <br />
<br />
Marstead put his cup down and wiped his hands quickly before taking the items. <br />
<br />
“Thank you, Collin.” <br />
<br />
Collin nodded and withdrew closing the door behind him. <br />
<br />
Marstead laid the envelope on top of the box and placed his real hand protectively over the two items in his lap. <br />
<br />
“Of course, you know that your parents left you a sizable monetary estate. I have been the conservator of it for many years and though you hardly ever seem interested in it, you can be assured it is large enough that should you chose to stop working today, you could live very well the rest of your life. Alex and Laura did not spend lavishly and the UOA was a generous employer. In addition to that, there was a life insurance policy on both your parents that almost eclipses the monetary estate they left behind.” <br />
<br />
I took a sip of my tea. I would trade all the money in the universe to have my parents back. At the moment money was the furthest from my mind. <br />
<br />
“If there is so much, perhaps later we can talk about making some donations,” I said over the rim of my cup. <br />
<br />
“That would be fine. I can draw up a list of suggestions based on what I know about you and your parent’s interests,” Marstead said. “I take it you are still fond of animals?” <br />
<br />
“Yes.” I had always been an advocate for ‘Save the (fill in the blank)’ campaigns since I was a child. “And feeding children,” I added, “any children.” <br />
<br />
“There are certainly plenty of charities to choose from to meet that criteria.” <br />
<br />
Marstead shifted a bit as though he were uncomfortable all of a sudden. I wondered if he hurt. I knew when I was younger and he came to visit, only to leave abruptly, mother said he was often in pain and didn’t want to admit it in front of us. <br />
<br />
“Are you all right, Marstead?” I asked. <br />
<br />
He cleared his throat and looked down at the box in his lap. “The last conversation I had with your parents was when they handed me this at dinner.” He looked up with eyes that threatened to tear. “You don’t know, but over the years I have always held something very special for you in the event they were to die simultaneously. The item has changed over the years. And each time it changed, my orders were to give the previous item to the UOA for their collection. Each item was from your parent’s most recent dig and came with a story, either how it was found or what it might have been.” <br />
<br />
Marstead took a moment to lift his cup and have a sip of his now cooling tea. I could see he was having a difficult time remembering those conversations. They were dredging up too much emotion for a man known for control in any situation, whether battle or courtroom. I reached over and poured some more from the pot in his cup to warm it up. He added sugar and stirring lazily he went on. <br />
<br />
“When you were about nine Alex found a pot with animals dancing around it. It was in remarkably good shape and the animals still had color to them. We talked about how much you would love it. Then when the next item came along, which, if I remember correctly was a BAllian flute, and I donated the pot to the UOA, they determined from the residual markers that it had been a slop jar. We had a wonderful laugh about that one.” He chuckled at the memory. “Leaving your daughter a chamber pot as a parting gift,” he smiled, “not really what they had in mind.” <br />
<br />
He sat quietly for a moment. I could almost hear his mind sifting through the memories of those meetings over dinner or a glass of spirits. <br />
<br />
“When you went through the stage when you were interested in rocks, I had to find a place to store a piece of lizatium the size of a football.” <br />
<br />
Lizatium is a stone which glows much like the fire opals of earth, only more so, but it is extremely heavy. Lovely, but totally useless. It is so hard it cannot be carved or worked in any way. And far too heavy, even in small pieces to be used as jewelry. <br />
<br />
“What did they expect me to do with it?” I asked. <br />
<br />
“Your father said it could sit in the corner of your room as a nightlight once I had the floor reinforced.” <br />
<br />
I could imagine my father thinking that was practical. He always was a dreamer and he knew I was afraid of the dark. My imagination is too active not to wonder about things lurking in dark corners. <br />
<br />
“This item,” Marstead said, as he caressed the box, “was from the dig on that little speck of a planet that they were going to write the paper on.” <br />
<br />
He handed me the box. <br />
<br />
“Your mother requested I read this to you before you open it.” <br />
<br />
Marstead opened the letter. I could see my Mother’s lovely cursive handwriting. My Father’s writing was the scratch of a hurried note taker and almost impossible to decipher. His notes often took on the form of treasure maps with scribbles in the margins and corners, lines from one paragraph to another where the thoughts should be linked later in the completed electronic form. On the other hand, Mother’s writing was a series of lovely sweeping curves beautiful enough to be embroidered on silk. <br />
<br />
Marstead smoothed the letter out lovingly and started to read. <br />
<br />
“Dearest 3su, <br />
<br />
“If Marstead is reading you this, I have to assume your father and I had an accident on the current dig. We are sorry for causing you pain, but try to remember we died doing the thing we loved most, unearthing artifacts. I only hope that you enjoy traveling and trading throughout the stars even half as much as we love being archaeologists. <br />
<br />
“Now to what is concealed in the box. Your father and I found this on 014.666.2460 in the Magnus System. You can retrieve the exact coordinates from our journals. We were so impressed with the site that we intended to write a scholarly paper on the subject. <br />
<br />
“One day if you happen to be passing by, you should stop and look around. I cannot put in words what we saw. Our field pictures are on the flat. Gaze in wonder my dear, we did. <br />
<br />
“Now open the box.” <br />
<br />
I opened the box to reveal a smooth sided octahedron. It looked like two black, stone cones glued end-to-end. But there did not appear to be a seam between them. I picked it up and it vibrated in my hand and emitted a soft hum, almost a purr. <br />
<br />
“No doubt, you have picked it up,” Marstead continued to read. “Your father and I only had time for a few tests. The frequency is between 20 and 40 Hz. The same range our fuses use to heal bones, but this instrument is something more. You can’t hear it, but at the same time it is emitting the lower frequency hum, it is putting out an extremely high frequency signal as well. Your father and I believe it is some type of medical instrument, but it goes totally against all we saw at the site. What we found around it was extremely primitive. <br />
<br />
“So, my dear, we have left you a mystery to solve. Perhaps one day you will work it out and write our paper for us. I know you have at least one good scholarly paper in you.” <br />
<br />
It was my mother’s last push to get me out of my profession as trader and into her's as archaeologist. <br />
<br />
“The gift comes with strings,” Marstead read on. “If you no longer want it, you must give it over to the UOA to be added to our collection. No selling it, trading it, or giving it away.” <br />
<br />
Mother knew me too well. <br />
<br />
“Your loving Mother and Father,” Marstead finished. <br />
<br />
“Have you held it?” I asked him. <br />
<br />
“Yes, it is quite soothing, isn’t it?” <br />
<br />
“Like holding a purring kitten,” I agreed. <br />
<br />
I reluctantly put it back in the box.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-19289281643726702462020-06-13T08:52:00.001-07:002020-06-13T19:59:21.797-07:00Star Trader Update .032<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>032.01</b><br />
<br />
I stood before the columbarium pillar containing my parent’s cremated ashes. I arrived almost six months too late to attend their funeral. Leaning forward, I placed my hand on the carved surface of the pillar. The pillar was not new to me. Mom and Dad always thought ahead. They had it carved years ago after seeing the Goe’ze pillars on Muldavia. They were both archaeologists and appreciated beautiful, ancient ruins. The Goe’ze pillars are one of the wonders of the universe. Their surfaces reflect and refract the breathtaking sunsets of Muldavia. This pillar, my parent’s memorial tomb, was artificially enhanced to radiate the colors from within along with a holographic image of my parents, smiling lovely, out from just above their niche. The pillar was carved years ago and set in storage to await their needed time. That time came much too soon. <br />
<br />
Marstead Grievus shifted his weight as he stood at my side. He was Mom and Dad’s solicitor. When I informed him I had arrived he offered to meet me here, at the cemetery on the site of the UOA. I accepted the offer with my heartfelt thanks. This was not easy. My parents were still young, just in their seventies. They hadn’t even talked about retirement. They were so happy doing what they did, being members of the Universal Order of Antiquities. My parents were experts in their field. If they did not discover it themselves, then they were called in to consult with whoever did make the discovery. <br />
<br />
“I recorded the funeral,” Marstead offered. “You might want to watch it someday. There were an inordinate amount of testimonials given. Your parents were truly loved.”<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
A tear trickled down my cheek and I wiped at it with a thumb, but then another fell and yet another until Marstead pulled me back to the bench facing the columbarium, sat me down and handed me his handkerchief. <br />
<br />
I wiped at my eyes with one hand as he held my other. He was an old friend of the family. In fact, when I was still young, should something have happened to my parents, he would have been my appointed guardian. He was of old military stock, but had retired on a disability pension when he lost a leg, arm and right eye in the Palloth Wars. They could heal and rebuild his body with modern medicine and technology, but they couldn’t heal his mind and soul. He took the disability and turned to fight courtroom battles instead. He was a famous trial attorney. He just did the estate planning for Mom and Dad because they were friends, old friends. <br />
<br />
“I would have waited for your return,” he said comfortingly, “but you know how your mother was, she had such a fear of confined spaces that she couldn’t even think of having her body put in suspension to wait for you.” <br />
<br />
“It’s all right,” I said between sniffles, and squeezed his very natural feeling artificial hand. “You did as they asked. That’s what’s important.” <br />
<br />
“Captain Luchin is willing to see you whenever you are up to it.” Marstead put his arm around my shoulder. “No need to hurry, but I knew you would want to hear the details.” <br />
<br />
My parents would have lived many more years if it were not for the fact that they were murdered. Killed at a distant dig site along with three other archaeologists. All of whatever they dug up was stolen, even their notes. Not a clue as to what they found. No way to track the murdering thieves. No way to deal out justice for the dead. I really didn’t know what Captain Luchin could tell me that would help soothe the wounds of losing both my parents, with no hope of being able to deal out a little revenge against their killers. But, I would go. It was part of my duty as the last surviving member of my family. <br />
<br />
<b>032.02</b><br />
<br />
Marstead once more sat at my side, this time in Captain Luchin’s office. I’d had a troubled night’s sleep and a breakfast I couldn’t eat, but I was ready to see what I could glean from the Galactic Official in charge. <br />
<br />
Captain Luchin was a large Quad, an alien with four arms. I was sure that came in handy in his line of work. He was professional and restrained. Both men were surprised when I asked to see the photos of the crime scene. I was no detective, but I did want to assure myself that nothing had been missed. No stone left unturned, as the saying went. <br />
<br />
“It doesn’t look like a snatch and grab,” I said, as I slowly flipped over the photos one by one. <br />
<br />
I was trying to stay objective as I looked over them despite the lump in my throat. My mother was lying in a heap against a wall, luckily with her face turned away and hands tied behind her back. My father was slumped forward from a kneeling position in the middle of the cavern floor, his face buried in the dirt at his knees. The other three archaeologists were not tied and looked as though they were killed and just dumped to one side, piled like cord wood against the opposite wall. My parent’s attackers wanted some kind of information from them. They were questioned. <br />
<br />
“You are correct,” Captain Luchin responded. “We believe your parents were held for some time perhaps in order to make sure the thieves had all the artifacts from the dig. Perhaps to question who knew about the items, trying to determine how secretive they needed to be in selling them on the black market.” The Captain rocked back in his chair, one hand on the arm, one ran through his hair, and two stayed on the table in front of him to keep the photo evidence secure. “Unfortunately, the team had not reported their findings, as yet, to the UOA. There is no telling what the dig turned up since there was literally nothing left except the bodies of the dead.” <br />
<br />
It was not unusual for a team to be delivered to a site and then left until called back for pick up. <br />
<br />
“Nothing?” I asked. <br />
<br />
There should have been shelters, supplies, equipment, maybe even a transport vehicle of some type. <br />
<br />
“Nothing,” the Captain said. “They took everything. We have a notice posted in case someone spots the sled and some of the other marked UOA equipment, should it turn up on the black market. We are still hoping for a lead.” <br />
<br />
At that point he leaned forward, pushing the photos into a neat pile and slipping them back into the folder. I didn’t object. I had seen enough. My parents' death was not quick and painless. If nothing else, they had experienced pain and had time to think and worry about each other and me. As I sat there I realized I needed to get to a bathroom quick. I was going to throw up.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4946051188428044770.post-75276379422932036222020-06-06T09:57:00.000-07:002020-06-06T09:57:05.748-07:00Star Trader Update .031<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>031.01</b><br /><br />The whole thing turned out to be a bit anticlimactic. Once the Hummer Arr was talking to understood that the Calpernia, which is what it related to, could fix the problem, the Hummer started bouncing the code out to the Hummers it was connected to, they bounced it to the next group until all the other Hummers in all the NBs throughout the Verse had a copy and the fix for the virus. <br /><br />All this time the Valarians thought each Hummer team, in each NB, was an isolated entity, but all along they were connected and had been talking to each other all this time. It was truly amazing. <br /><br />Our part was finished. The NBs were back online. All the backed up traffic was being routed properly and within a week or so even the outlying areas were back to operation as usual. <br /><br />The only thing left to deal with was Zackary Taylor. <a name='more'></a><br /><br />“You have a safe trip,” Jake said, as he gave me a one-armed squeeze. Daniel and I were headed back to Ma-rye-a and on further to Zack. <br /><br />I hugged him back and then reached out for Arr. Daniel gave up Arr’s hand and we exchanged places to thank our hosts for all their invaluable assistance. <br /><br />I gave Arr a big hug. <br /><br />“Thank you,” Daniel said with all the sincerity he had to offer. <br /><br />If it hadn’t been for Jake, and Arr’s unusual talents, who knows what would have befallen our little corner of the Verse. I reached over and gave Kay-o a chuck under his chin and a good scratch behind his left ear. He leaned into my hand. <br /><br />“I’ll see you guys later,” I said. <br /><br />“Keep safe,” Jake said, as he patted Daniel on the shoulder. <br /><br />Daniel and I crawled in the pod and I pointed us back toward Ma-rye-a. <br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">
***** </div>
<br />“The defendant is found guilty to eighty three counts of murder in the second degree,” the juror read off her flat and then handed it over to the bailiff. <br /><br />The plea of temporary insanity had not worked, but based on Daniel’s testimony the jurors fully understood that Zack was not knowledgeable enough about the workings of a star ship to realize the enormity of the problems the virus would manifest with regard to the weaponry aboard said star ships. Therefore, murder in the first degree had been ruled out. <br /><br />Daniel hired the best attorney money could buy for Zack. Thomas Patterson had never lost a case. We didn’t need a win. There would be no win. Justice had to be served, but we hoped that it would be served for everyone, including Zack. <br /><br />Patterson made an emotional plea in the judge’s chambers for leniency as far as the judge could stretch it. He presented the offer that he, a team of doctors and Daniel had put together for Zack’s future incarceration. We all hoped the judge could see both sides of this convoluted series of events and the aftermath it held for all involved. <br /><br />The judge took the flat from the bailiff and read it again and then set it to one side. He leaned back in his chair and templed his fingers in front of his chest. He had held this position for hours during the course of the three month long hearings. He took a deep breath and released it in a sigh. <br /><br />“What seems like an open and shut case is really quite complicated,” he began his summery. “Mr. Taylor does not deny he created the virus and proceeded to infect the NBs with said virus, resulting in the death of eight-three people – twenty-one of which were young children who had their whole lives before them. Children whose parents and siblings will outlive them and miss them the rest of their lives. <br /><br />“The enormity of the financial aspect of this case is not to be trivialized either. Trade was disrupted, companies were close to bankruptcy and failure. Workers would have lost their livelihood and families could have ended up destitute were it not for the intervention of Mr. Daniel Drysson on the behalf of Mr. Taylor in order to keep multiple companies in business.” <br /><br />Daniel had done his best to mitigate the financial end of the situation. He transferred so much money over the past six months that it would have made a Valarian’s head spin. None of the companies affected by the incident folded. He saved them all. And in doing so, he now had a hand in a plethora of industries he never would have even known about in the past. <br /><br />“On the other hand,” the judge went on, “we have Zackary Taylor – a man we have all heard from who was well liked and efficient until his accident. Who then, through no fault of his own, was left crippled and destitute. Who buried himself in a fantasy world until being mentally driven to a state of unrest and revenge.” <br /><br />The judge swiveled his chair and leaned forward toward the jury. <br /><br />“Mr. Drysson takes at least partial responsibility for Mr. Taylor’s state of mind and I feel this is a correct placement of blame. Mr. Drysson has also offered to help make amends to the families of the victims and to Mr. Taylor. With this in mind, I pass the following judgment.” <br /><br />I clasped Daniel’s hand sitting beside me. Now we would see if what we had Patterson propose was really going to fly or if it would never make it out of the pod bay. <br /><br />The judge turned and focused his attention on Zack. “Mr. Taylor, you shall be remanded to the Rigil Perry Institution on Rigil Four where you will be incarcerated for the rest of your life with no chance of parole.” <br /><br />I squeezed Daniel’s hand. This was what we proposed. The Rigil Perry Institution was a high security facility for criminals, but it was also a working city within its walls. There was a library, labs, medical facilities, a commissary, etc. This was where they sent the criminals who still have something to give to the Verse. Scientist who maybe took a wrong step, but had a brilliant mind. Medical personnel who over stepped their bounds, but who were top quality surgeons. In other words, the upper crust of the institutionalized criminals. Zack would have the opportunity to do good work. <br /><br />“I do this,” the judge went on, “in the hopes that Mr. Taylor, will in turn, write programs that may benefit people in the years to come and in some small way repay his debt to society.” <br /><br />The gavel hit the desk and court was adjourned. <br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">
***** </div>
<br />“You are looking well,” Daniel said to Zack. <br /><br />They were sitting on a bench in the quad, nestled among the buildings that constituted the research area of the Rigil Perry Institution, or RPI as Daniel had heard the inmates refer to it. They had walked out to the bench. Yes, Zackary walked. No more servo chair. They couldn’t rejuvenate his old legs. They had been inactive too long. But, a cutting edge physician, committed to the institute for insurance fraud, removed the tissue, tendons and muscle down to the bone and after several months of a growing process and rehab, Zack was once again walking on his own two legs. Of course, Daniel had provided the funding for the process. It had worked out brilliantly. <br /><br />“I feel like a new man,” Zack said, “and I am for all intents and purposes. New legs, now vocal cords. Plastic surgery to fix the scaring.” <br /><br />“You’ve been through a lot,” Daniel commented as he propped one foot up on his other knee. He leaned back and enjoyed the outdoors. It was hard to believe this was a criminal institution. <br /><br />“I’d go through it again in an instant,” Zack said. <div>
<br /><br />He ran his hands over the tops of his new thighs. He never thought he would ever walk again. It was not difficult to wrap his head around being confined to the Institute for life. Hell, he was more confined in that little apartment in his servo chair then he would ever be here. He was working on a new program for the doctor who ‘regrew’ his legs. If it worked out it would speed up the process for others in the Verse who had to go through what he had in the past few months. It would also cut the costs in half, making it more accessible to others. He was excited about life again even if it was here in the RPI. <br /><br />He looked up, and out across the lawn and a thrill went through him at the mere thought of the fact that if he wished, he could stand up and run across that lawn to the commissary and beyond. <br /><br />“I can’t thank you enough, Daniel.” </div>
<div>
<br /><br />Daniel sat silently. Zack had thanked him over and over again. Daniel was just happy a good man had been saved. A brilliant mind would live to work on for the good of mankind. And he, Daniel, had been able to right his wrongs as well. <br /><br />Daniel pulled his flat from his coat pocket. “Let me see your flat,” he said. <br /><br />Zackary handed over his from his jacket pocket. Daniel bumped them together to transfer the data from one device to the other and handed it back to Zack. <br /><br />“A new game?” Zack asked. <br /><br />Daniel launched the game and its intro started, a deep baritone voice announced, “I am Matt Milestone. I set out to find adventure, but as it would happen, adventure found me.”</div>
</div>
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