by Sahara Foley
"Well, I had a good teacher." She quirked her eyebrow at Matron. "Oh, did I mention I listed the location of your Processing Colony in my second will? That's an interesting dilemma, isn't it? You bought and paid a foreign government to grow and process your plants for you. Plus, you supply them all the young girls and boys they need.”
Cook leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms. “Does Warden know where all your body counts are going to? Most likely not. Pretty devious, Paula."
Matron stiffly rose from her chair and leaned over the table. "Don't talk to me about devious, Claudia," she hissed. Standing tall, she said, "Done, Cook. I shall inform Warden. Good luck in your new life." Then, she turned and stormed out of the room.
Cook sighed in relief as her hands trembled around the coffee cup. She took a sip of the cold, greasy beverage. I can't believe I did it.
She ran a shaky hand across her face, then looked around her kitchen. I've lived and worked here for thirty years. I thought I'd die here. Now, my whole life is turned upside down because of an unwanted retard.
Cook shook her head. She's not a retard, is she? She doesn't belong here, and neither do I. Not anymore.
Tears stinging the back of her eyes, she reached into a drawer and pulled out a half-full liter bottle of gin. She sloshed a generous shot into her coffee cup and picked up her earpiece. As she waited for her connection to go through, she slammed the gin and poured more.
CHAPTER EIGHT
On a planet, named Ispepyein, located near the left eye of the constellation, called Leo the Lion, Kargan sat in his massive stone throne. He tapped his claws impatiently on the armrest, then ran his fingertips over the numerous thick groves gouged into his chair over the years. He was about to add more if this Calen didn't get to the point.
He rued the day the wimpy, pale-skinned race 'accidentally' discovered their planet a dozen years ago. Thankfully, they hadn't had much contact with them, since Ispepyeins were self-sufficient. However, they were well-known, galaxy-wide, for services they rendered at a hefty price. He assumed their specialty was what brought the Calen General here, if he’d ever quit stuttering and stammering.
Shifting his four-hundred-pound body, he glowered at the Calen standing behind the General. Next to the General, stood two other beings who resembled the Calen's, only they had four arms and legs. He'd never seen their race before, but he was sure they were just as pathetic.
"General Kyoto, what is it you wish to hire our services for, and how do you intend on paying our fees?" Kargan gnashed his razor-sharp teeth. and smirked when the General and his envoy flinched at the display of his fangs.
"Pardon, Great Kargan," General Kyoto simpered, bowing his gleaming, bald head. "Before we discuss your service, might I ask, have your people encountered races, called Shalits or Earthmen?"
Ispepyeins knew many races, more than these cowardly Calens, but Kargan had never heard of an Earthman. The Pep leader glanced over at his mate, who was picking one gray claw with another. Catching his eye, she shrugged indifferently and went back to cleaning her nails. Next, he turned to the Warrior Council, who shook their enormous gray-scaled heads No.
"We know of the Shalits," Kargan acknowledged, "but not these Earthmen. Why is this important, Kyoto?" He studied the Calen General, whose pale lips pinched into a tight line as he tried figuring out a diplomatic response to the question.
The first encounter between the arrogant Calens and the ruthless Peps had been anything, but friendly. Two of their small, single-fighter ships had demolished nine Calen ships. The Calens learned the hard way to steer clear of their warriors.
Every race fears us for a reason. We abide by our own rules and codes. We answer to no one.
Kargan huffed in frustration and scratched his chin. Diplomacy to an Ispepyein depended on how many enemies and weapons confronted them at the time. Peps were at their happiest when facing insurmountable odds. The more perilous the situation, the better they liked it. Not too many enemies survived to complain about their lack of diplomacy once a Pep went into battle. Mercy wasn't a word in their vocabulary.
General Kyoto's round, blue eyes followed the long, sharp nail as it moved, up and down, making a loud rasping sound against the thick, gray, armor-plated skin. He swallowed and averted his eyes back to the Pep leader.
"Great Kargan, some of my people formed a conspiracy. Our imbecilic leader, Panth, who hails from the lower life forms of the planet Teth, has become too self-satisfied with peace. This mockery of a leader forced upon us by the Shalits has forgotten about the superior men of Calen and our sister planet of Eilsel." He nodded toward the two four-armed and four-legged collaborators behind him.
"Generations ago, we lost our PSI-onic powers. Panth forbade any further research into re-establishing our abilities. He contends that evolution removed our skills, and if we were meant to have them, they would develop again in time.” General Kyoto scoffed, his features pinching in disgust.
"We refuse to wait for evolution. Our men are subject to the whims of our PSI dominant females, and this disgrace cannot be allowed to continue. The magnificent Ispepyein race is blessed with renowned PSI-onic powers, and we wish to engage two groups of your warriors.
“One group will travel to a distant dead area of the Universe to collect silver objects hidden there. We need The Others, or Shalits, which are encased in the silver to regain our power and control of our worlds. They are the most powerful beings in the Universe and are said to eat planets, and suns, for their energy. They caused that vast dead area they currently reside in. Be assured, as long as they remain in the silver containers, we will retain control over them. We do not wish to release them and have our planets absorbed."
Kargan roared and held up his claw-tipped hand. Will this long-winded Calen ever shut up?
Gasping in fear, the Calen General backed up and stumbled into the multi-limbed Eilsel behind him.
"And, the other group?" Kargan rumbled. “What is it they are to do for you, Calen?"
Kyoto cleared his throat and straightened his silver-trimmed, black tunic. "Great Kargan, the other group will travel to the Planet Earth to locate and destroy a Human. Our history shows that a Shalit took Human male form and bred with a PSI-powered Earth female. Some of their offspring turned out to be equipped with supreme powers themselves, as well as their children.
“As these particular children re-bred over the years, with the non-PSI Earthlings, their abilities diminished with each new generation,” General Kyoto explained. “Now, they are not a threat, except for one. She is the Shalit's great-great-granddaughter. Our scientists say she will be the one to regain all her powers when she reaches breeding age.
"The Shalit and his human mate still live, but they are presently located somewhere far in the outer rim. No one has been able to contact them in years, and it is rumored they left together to die of old age." He snorted in derision. "A romantic and useless gesture, yes, but the Humans are known for their senseless emotions. The Shalit, even in Human form, cannot die, but he can end his existence if he so desires.
“The only interference we are concerned about is a silver Calen ship, called Weesa. However, it is said she went with the Shalit and his mate to the outer rim. They have been absent for more than one hundred of our years, and our scientists state they will never return if they even still exist, which we doubt."
The Ispepyein Leader drummed his claws on the armrest, glaring at the simpering diplomat. This hairless Peena is wasting my time. He smirked at the General, showing his rows of razor-sharp teeth.
Kyoto's face went even paler, and he audibly swallowed as he ran a finger under the collar of his tunic.
"Get to the point,” Kargan demanded. “What is it you need from our second team?"
"Oh, Great One, I only meant to outline the potential risks for this assignment. We, ourselves, tried destroying the small, female child, but, unfortunately, we think she escaped without harm. We attacked a sailing vessel she was traveling on with her fam
ily. There were two young females aboard and one of them survived the Ultilear blast.
“She was rescued by an Earthling, and we know not whether she is the child we are seeking. We were unable to pursue the girl as we had to strike swiftly. If our leader had learned we were on Earth, Panth would have discovered our conspiracy and ended our lives. Tethian punishment is swift and terrible to us, the downtrodden males of Calen and Eilsel.
“We seek to engage the Magnificent and Mighty Ispepyein warriors to finish what we could not and end the possible threat to us from the Earth female." The General bowed before he hurriedly stepped back, next to his Eilsel ally.
Kargan unfolded his immense bulk from his throne. Scowling down at the dignitaries cowering at his feet, he stretched the kinks from his over-indulged body. He shambled over to one of the gray, metal walls surrounding the throne room.
Like a cat with a scratching pole, Kargan reached up and ran his gray-clawed hand down it, leaving deep grooves behind. Pieces of shavings fell to the gray floor. The sound of screeching metal vibrated through the room.
Turning, with a self-satisfied sneer, Kargan smelled the stink of fear from the emissaries as they stared at him wide-eyed, open-mouthed. "You say these Others eat suns and planets? Is this correct, Calen?" he asked in the Ispepyein deep growl.
General Kyoto fidgeted with his tunic. "Yes, Great Kargan."
The intimidating Pep lumbered toward his throne and with a groan, reclined back in his seat. "How many of these 'super beings' are sitting in the dead zone?"
"There are hundreds, Great Kargan," the Calen answered. "We only require a few for our purposes."
"Why don't you go retrieve them yourselves?" the Ispepyein leader's mate asked. She peered at the men through the claws she was picking at.
The General bowed to what he assumed was a female, though they all looked the same to him. "Uh, we are forbidden near the area. It is protected by a Shalit guard. Our pitiful ships are no match against a Shalit. We would be destroyed."
"If these Shalits are as dangerous as the Others you speak of, how are we to stand against them?" Kargan asked.
With an arrogant smile, the General reached into his sleeve pocket and removed a small computer chip. He held it between his thumb and index finger. "It takes tremendous PSI power to contain a Shalit if you know the secret. That secret is included in this chip. Alas, since us Calen males have no abilities, we cannot fight the Shalit guard. Fortunately, your warriors weld immense power and that is precisely why we came seeking your services."
Kargan stared unblinkingly at the thin-skinned Calen until he started fidgeting, again, as sweat beaded on his pale forehead. Rumors of entities, called Planet Destroyers, had reached his ears before, but the Ispepyeins never ran across any in their many excursions across the galaxies.
Can I use them to my benefit? The idea of a new weapon intrigued him. Kargan extended out his hand, gray claws clenched into a fist, and then flattened it out, palm facing upward. The chip floated from the Calen's fingertips onto Kargan's palm.
General Kyoto's jaw dropped open. Envy and resentment flashed behind his cold, blue, almond-shaped eyes.
Kargan chuckled, the deep rumbling reverberating off the metal walls. He picked up the chip between two of his sharp claws, studied it for a few seconds, and placed it in the breast pocket of his warrior vest. "Then, this chip will serve as our payment, Calen. We will encase any Shalits we encounter. We shall bring you two of the Others, but we shall transport the remainder here, for our own uses."
With a relieved smile, Kyoto bowed. "And, the Earth girl, Great One?"
"Her existence will end as soon as you show us where this Earth is located, and we send our fastest fighter," Kargan growled.
The Calen rubbed his hands together, a greedy glint in his eyes. "When our transaction is complete, your race will be the most feared and revered in the Universe. And, we will be second to you. We shall be allies forever, Great One."
Kyoto brought forth holographic pictographs depicting Earth and its solar system. They detailed where it stood compared to Ispepyein. He also showed Kargan pictographs of the female Earthling they wanted to have assassinated.
Kargan snorted. More thin-skinned weaklings. This assignment is not befitting our Ispepyein warriors.
He wanted the secret on the chip, so he swallowed his pride and went back to studying the Earthlings. One of the Ispepyein’s PSI-onic powers was mind control, which allowed them to change their outer appearance to represent the race of whatever world they visited. This ability made it easy to sneak up on their intended victims and carry out the killing blow or kidnap them, whatever deed they'd been hired to accomplish.
After the Calen envoy left, Zelka slid one of her nails up her mate's stone-hard arms. "These Earthlings look like weaklings. The Calens say they have no power and their weapons would be like toys compared to ours." She gave a razor-toothed coy smile. "Perhaps, loved one, it is time for our people to emerge as conquerors and not the feared hired help." Her round, orange eyes gleamed with anticipation.
Giving a sideways glance of annoyance at his mate, Kargan reached into a large, ornately decorated jar sitting on a table next to his chair. When he pulled back his hand, his index claw was speared through a small, hairy creature, looking much like a squirming mouse. As the rodent squealed in pain, Kargan bit it in half and chewed vigorously with his alternating rows of pointed teeth. He swallowed, then sucked the other half from his claw and crunched away some more.
With a grimace, he picked at some fur stuck between his teeth. "Why must they be served with hair? I hate the hair.”
Zelka rolled her eyes at him. "Must I remind you that you killed the last Putanian who served you Peenas half-dead from blood loss due to all the cuts from shaving them. No matter how much I offer in pay, no one will deliver you a shaved Peena, fearing you will kill them for a job not done well."
Not waiting for a response, she leaned over and speared her own snack. "Do you think these Shalits and the Others are as dangerous as the Calens claim?"
Kargan grunted in answer. "This I doubt. If such were the case, we would have heard of them before. Never fear my love, I shall go with my own personal guard and see for myself. If there is any truth to the thin-skins story, we shall take the Others as our own. I do not wish to leave a possible threat in the hands of the foolish Calen males."
He clenched his hand into a fist. "We shall take them all. However, we should send one warrior to Earth to destroy the female and while he's there, reconnoiter the planet. I cannot imagine a race of males fearing one small, helpless female child. Can you, my dear?"
He reached out and lightly drew one claw up and down her arm. By her smell, his mate was getting close to her breeding time, again. Kargan gnashed his teeth in anticipation.
"No, Great Kargan, I cannot," Zelka purred deeply. She gave him a coquettish look, batting her lash-less eyelids at him. "Perhaps we can send my brother to kill the child. He just returned from the blast zone with his payment for destroying the Grotons."
Out of all my warriors, he is the one I fear the most. One day, he will challenge me for the throne . . . and win.
The Great One shuddered. Visions of the seven-foot-tall, three and a half foot wide Lurga cleaving off his head with a sweep of his massive claws, flashed through Kargan's mind. He gave a mental shake and focused his attention back on his mate. "Ah yes, love, your brother. He finished off the three thousand Grotons? He is a worthy warrior, indeed."
Zelka gave him a shark smile. "Yes, Great One. It took him, but an hour. He is cleaning up in his room."
"Send for your brother, then. Let us see if Lurga Pukani wishes to take the contract on this one small Earth child.”
CHAPTER NINE
Lurga braced himself against the pale blue tiled walls. Hot water streamed down his back and gurgled into the drain between his gray clawed feet. Grunting, he punched the button and shut off the water, then grabbed a towel and stepped out on the cold stone floor.<
br />
As he dried himself off, he caught his image in the reflecting window and smiled. Ah, a few more scars to add to my growing collection, proving myself the greatest Ispepyein warrior of all time.
He shook his head, disgusted. Though, I would not consider my latest conquest of three thousand one hundred six Grotons as much of a battle. Certainly, not worthy for the Greatest Ispepyein warrior. He signed in frustration. He hadn't faced a worthy opponent in years, and Lurga was starting to think he never would.
As he donned a fresh tunic and breeches, he thought over the contract he just fulfilled. The Great One had been contacted by one of their clients. Frantic over the fact the Grotons decided to invade and take over one of their possession planets. Lurga was sent to evict them, peacefully.
When Lurga arrived at the planetoid in dispute, he assumed the appearance of the two-headed, four-armed Grotons. Lurga shivered in disgust. He hated transforming into multi-limbed life forms and two-headed ones made it that much worse.
The Warrior tried reasoning with the rather stupid beings, but the insolent Grotons wouldn't listen. Even when he warned them he was the Greatest Ispepyein Warrior and would kill them all, they laughed at him. Lurga growled in indignation. Once a declaration of that type had been made, he couldn't back down. It was the Warrior Code.
To his utter disbelief, when he assumed his real shape and towered over the little creatures, gnashing his teeth at them. . .they attacked. Lurga scratched his chin with a long claw. They might have been unworthy opponents, but they had balls or a total lack of self-preservation.
An hour later, Lurga sat in his fighter, refueling his Seeder pistol as he surveyed the grisly scene on his screen. All around his one-man spacecraft, piled up to his knees, laid pieces of Grotons. Their purple blood stained the blue, grassy field they chose to die on.
Lurga growled in irritation. He was itching for a REAL fight with a REAL opponent. The last time he had any fun was over eighty years ago when the Calen's accidentally encountered their first Ispepyein warriors. Lurga was a part of that first melee and destroyed six of the round Calen ships himself.