by Dean Kutzler
She and Ensign Brody trekked across the terrain, careful of the oddly shaped so haphazardly placed that it seemed impossible.
“What do you make of all these?” She pointed at the rocks.
“I don’t know, ma'am—never saw nothing like it in all me years. They look like perfectly natural-forming rocks, but that’s impossible.” He bent, scooping up one of the smaller stones as they walk toward the structure.
“When ye take it away from the rest,” he said, spinning it in his hands. “It looks like it be crafted by a highly skilled artisan.”
He tossed it back to the ground with the rest.
“But now look. It still be perfect looking, but now it looks—unaturally natural. Like the stones me pappy and me plucked from this stream back on Aurailia.” He smiled at the memory. “I could never out skip him, no matter how flat a rock I found.”
All the rocks were perfect in shape, yet the landscape looked as if it was a natural formation. She knew this planet was different, but physics were still physics, and she’d never heard of such a place existing in the known galaxies.
They were near the structure, and Saren put her arm out, catching Ensign Brody and pulling him to a stop.
“Listen,” she whispered. “Do you hear that? Sounds like it’s coming from the other side.”
She nodded at the structure.
His big brown eyes were wide as he nodded in agreement.
“Stay behind me, Ensign,” she said, raising her wristcom.
“But ma'am—“
“That’s an order!” she hissed, hoping it hadn’t been too loud. “Stay behind me. I’ve got the wristcom, you’ve got—“
“My handsome Irish looks?” he offered.
She suppressed a smile and gave him a stern look instead. As much as she was enjoying his casual attitude gave her some comfort they needed to focus.
“Over there.”
She pointed at cylindrically shaped rock lying on the ground.
“Grab that rod.”
The words were out of her mouth before she could think of rephrasing them. But, ever-the-gentleman, he nodded, grabbing the rod without even raising an eyebrow and falling in line behind her.
She made a slashing gesture across her throat, conveying the order of silence until her mark. With two fingers in the air, she poked forward twice, and they slowly crept toward the structure until they were up against it.
She held a fist up in the air, and they stopped.
They were close enough to hear some fight or scuffle.
She pointed to her eyes with the same two fingers, then slowly curved them toward the corner of the structure. Ensign Brody nodded once, and they crept their way to the edge for a look.
Saren pulled the wristcom close to her chest and squatted down so she could peek around the corner at a good angle for a shot if necessary, and it allowed Ensign Brody to look over the top of her.
The structure was a stone table with strange symbols carved into every inch of the surface sitting in the clearing. The stone was worn smooth and glossy from the weathering of much time, making it look ancient. Dark red stains dotted the sides and top.
Saren wondered why nothing else was on the planet but that table and the strange rocks.
A black box sat on top of the table looking like an artifact called a clicker used to change broadcasted-programing on a viewscreen. Elyria was such a fan of old Earth memorabilia as a child, forever finding dusty old gems as she called them.
In particular, Saren remembered a weekly show featuring some nonsense about Greek Gods. It was supposed to be an educational program on old Earth. Elyria would run around the ship with bunched yarn on her head, hissing like a snake and saying, ‘Now you’re frozen stone!’
Saren was having a hard time keeping her daughter from her mind and focusing.
While lost in nostalgic thought, a plasma burst was headed directly for Saren’s head.
THE FIGHT!
ENSIGN Brody shifted on his feet hovering over Saren and waiting for her command. The plasma burst shot from behind the table heading straight for them, and she still hadn’t reacted.
Why wasn’t she moving?
He quickly snaked his arms around the midriff of her body armor and yanked her back. The plasma hit the edge Saren had been peeking around, nearly clipping her face, and blasted a chunk of the rock away.
Bits of rubble rained down over Saren and Ensign Brody sitting on the ground.
Shaking the precious memory from her head, Saren looked at Ensign Brody with a mixture of shock and remorse on her face.
Thoughts of the Elyria she thought she knew kept sneaking into her head, proving almost fatally they were doing nobody any good.
For the last time, Thorn—focus!
She mouthed the words—I’m so sorry, thank you.
She hopped to her feet and quickly scrambled back to the edge of the structure for a quick peek—Ensign Brody following right behind.
A man and beast were fighting hand-to-hand over a pistol lying on the ground. The shot that nearly took off her head was just an unlucky coincidence of the brawl. They hadn’t spotted her or the ensign.
She saw the damned clicker that nearly got them killed now lying on the ground next to the table and realized the two must’ve been fighting for it when one of them pulled out a pistol.
The man was tall with short dirty blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing leather pants with a vest over a white undershirt. An empty gun holster swung beneath the open vest.
She identified the beast he was fighting as a male Kractorian. She saw one once back in the orphanage, hoping never to see another since all the stories about the race had violent, nasty ends.
The Kractorian was all shaggy white fur, except for his blue reptilian face and red mouth baring dozens of pointy, razor-sharp teeth. Intelligence radiated from his ice-blue eyes with a cold, calculated stare. He was a real, live modern-day version of an ancient character from a Christmas show her daughter loved. Saren recalled the ingenuity of how the puppets had moved with no strings from a show that was thousands of years old.
Ever since her daughter found the ancient datacom, they’d been watching it together every year like in the days of old Earth children traditions.
You’re doing it again, Thorn! For fuck’s sake you’re a highly decorated UFWA commander—get a grip!
“Sneak around the other side and hold position.” Saren pointed down the structure. “I need you there for backup. I’m going to try and diffuse this situation.”
“But, ma'am—,”
“Backup—now, Ensign,” she whispered, wiggling the wristcom at the stone in his hand and reminding him he’d brought a rod to a gunfight.
He wasn’t one to let a woman risk her life while he hid around the corner, but he obeyed the order.
“Be careful, Commander.”
He slowly made his way to the other corner of the stone structure and nodded to Saren, confirming he had a good line of sight of the situation.
Saren stepped out into the open leading with the wristcom, double checking to make sure it was on the stun setting.
The pistol was lying ten feet in front of her near the table with the clicker not much further away.
The Kractorian seized the man by the vest and threw him to the ground causing a thud. Before the creature could turn for the pistol, the man swung both legs around, catching the beast in his furry shins.
As the creature toppled toward the man lying on the ground, the man pulled his body into a tight ball and drove his feet into the falling beast’s stomach, kicking him off and tossing him away from the pistol.
Impressive, Saren thought, still remaining unnoticed as she stood, watching the fight.
The man pulled his legs back into a ball as he rolled forward until his feet made contact with the ground where he sprang to a standing position, snatching up the pistol.
Shit!
Saren spread her legs, steading her stance. She hadn’t expected such a cra
fty move and glanced over her shoulder, making sure Ensign Brody was in place.
He nodded once, and Saren made a fist.
They still hadn’t seen her.
What? Am I invisible? Must be losing my touch.
The man sneered at the beast and lowered his eyes, leveling the pistol at its chest.
“That’s enough!” She shouted, finally drawing their attention.
The man twitched, and Saren sent a plasma blast into the ground near his feet. Blue dust and rubble skittered over his boots.
“Do it, and next time I aim higher,” she calmly said, fixing her eyes on his.
The sneer on his face warmed into a smile, and he lowered the gun.
“Now be a good boy, slowly drop it next to your feet.”
He complied, still smiling and holding her stare.
“Now kick it over here and remember—“
She wiggled her wrist.
The smile left his face, and he gently kicked the pistol in her direction.
She picked up the pistol.
Since the man was distracted, the Kractorian decided to make a move for him, and Saren tapped the wristcom once, adjusting her wrist and firing off a blast.
A burst of plasma shot past the man's head, landing on the beast’s chest and throwing him back fifteen feet. He stumbled and dropped to the ground unconscious.
The smile returned to his and began to walk toward Saren until she moved her aim back in his direction.
“What? Aren’t we friends now?”
He held his arms open wide.
“What is this place?”
“Geez, no introductions? All business, huh,” he said, dropping his arms.
He was trying to catch her off guard with his little rapport, and Saren wasn’t having it.
“This ain’t my first time to the Space Jam, Twinkle Toes. Nice move by the way, but I’m the lady with the wristcom, and that means I ask the questions. How's that for an introduction?”
Once again, the smile dropped off his face. The act was off.
“I’m Daxton Stone,” he said, introducing himself anyway.
Smartass, huh?
“Welcome to Kahari,” he continued, swooping an arm across the empty plane. “At least that’s what I was told by the sore losers that dropped me off here.
“What brings a—“
His eyes darted around the black body armor, and a single eyebrow raised.
“An UFWA fleet commander to this fun place?”
How did he know that?
Her battle armor was top of the line, but it wasn’t standard UFWA issue. She upgraded before the mission with the extra money she’d saved.
“Just Commander, Commander Saren Thorn of the First Class Federation Galactic Warship Avenger.”
“Never heard of it.” He shrugged.
Smartass, indeed.
“Kahari is just a fairytale told to little children. Stop messing around. What is this place?”
“A fairytale, and yet—here you stand, in all its glory.”
Saren’s orphanage mother, Xandrieka Alazennica, was a Mar-Marlian from Xanneth 3. The Mar-Marlians were known for the nurturing care of others. They were often social workers who ran orphanages like the one Saren grew up in since birth.
Saren had heard the tale as Xandrieka shared the story of Kahari with each new orphan. It was meant to comfort and scare the new children at the same time.
Xandrieka had said Kahari was the first planet of a single dimension where the Gods ruled and created everything in the universe.
Saren was sketchy on the details, but Xandrieka said a great disagreement had happened among the Gods one day. One of them had shared a gift with the human creations, never meant for them.
The gift had caused a problem the Gods didn’t know how to correct, dividing them on what was to be done. A great war then ensued, and the battle went on for billions of years until one day the Gods vanished. No one knew what happened to them, only that they were gone.
Xandrieka told Saren the God’s world, Kahari, was turned into a prison for the wickedest criminals. She warned her that children who misbehaved would find themselves on a path to Kahari, and those that didn’t might have a chance of being back in the graces of the Gods—if they ever returned.
Saren wrote the story off back then as a tall tale meant to keep children in check. Many discoveries had been over the years, one of the most spectacular of them being the Void Stream, but never multiple dimensions. She couldn't deny how strange this planet was, but Kahari was just a fairytale.
“What landed you here, Daxton?” she asked. “What loser did you piss off?”
“Why—I’m just an unfortunate space pirate that happened to get caught.” He smiled, flashing beautiful white teeth. “Nowadays, is that really such a crime?”
Well—
Since the Scarab reign began, space pirating was the only way most could make a living amongst the stars. It didn't make the crime right, but people had to eat.
“What about him?” She nodded at the unconscious Kractorian.
Daxton shrugged.
“Dunno—he was here, before me. I saw him going for that.” He pointed to the black box on the ground. “I assume it's a weapon, and, well, I guess you saw the rest.”
“How did you know I was an UFWA commander?”
“I saw your ship take off while I was fighting with old hairy here. I know that armor ain't UFWA issue. I figured the bastards got tired of your command since UFWA ain’t really runnin’ the show anymore and stripped you. By the way, is he—“
“No, he’s just knocked out—stun setting.”
His eyes widened, and he said, “Was that thing set to stun when you were aimin’ it at me? I saw you click something before you shot him.”
She grinned wickedly and lied. “A girl can’t be too careful.”
“Yeah—an UFWA bitch-girl wearing battle armor. Where’s your helmet?”
“You call me a bitch again, and I’ll make you one.” She aimed the wristcom below his waist. “Got it?”
“Whoa! Okay! Got it—I need my boys. Just joking around is all.”
“What is it?” She pointed to the clicker on the ground.
“The only option I saw around here,” he answered, moving closer.
“What did I say?” She aimed the wristcom back at his face.
He threw his hands up in mock surrender.
“Hey! Hey! Not the face, either! Momma always said without my good looks I ain’t got nothing goin’ for me. Easy—easy. I’m just trying to get a better look at it.”
“If you don't know what it is,” she said, nodding towards the slumbering Kractorian, “then why were you fighting him for it?”
“Like I said—look around here. Do you see any other options except these weird rocks?”
“Mr. Brody!” she called over her shoulder, holding out the gun.
The ensign stepped from around the structure and jogged over to her position, taking the weapon and training it on Daxton. He looked at the beast on the ground and said, “Is that a Kractorian? I never seen one in person.”
“Hey! No fair—giving my toys away,” Daxton said, giving Ensign Brody a dirty look.
“Speaking of which–cover me, Mr. Brody, while I check Mr. Stone for more toys.”
Saren lowered the wristcom and walked over to him.
“Mr. Stone?” Daxton said, raising his eyebrows. “He’s my father. My friends call me Daxton or just Dax.”
“Up with the arms Mr. Stone,” Saren said, leaning forward and patting him down. “He’s clean.”
She backed away and turned towards Ensign Brody.
“Commander!”
What was I thinking turning my back on this guy?
Saren began to spin around, but he was faster.
Before she could use the force of his assault against him, he wrapped his arm around her throat after pulling a sharp, thin blade from a hidden opening in the strap of his pistol holster and held it up ag
ainst her throat.
The blade was so sharp the slightest touch on her throat produced a thin dot of blood.
“Now, Commander, since you don't wanna be friends, tell the nice Mr. Brody to hand over my pistol.”
Saren stood calmly, staring at ensign Brody and mentally reviewing her slim options. She could get him off her in a second, but judging how sharp that blade was the tiniest bit of pressure might nick a carotid artery.
THE WIN?
ENSIGN Brody stood—feet spread and both hands tightly gripping the pistol—as he stared down the site of the barrel at Daxton's head. Ensign Brody’s brow lowered down over his eyes, nearly touching his nose and shadowing his big brown eyes.
He would give his life to save Commander Thorn.
If his aim was just right, he could shoot the man's brain stem, severing the connection in time and stopping the message from getting to his hand, but the knife looked pretty sharp.
The man was quick,—but Commander Thorn was quicker.
He was counting on it.
Ensign Brody’s eyes flicked to the side.
“I don't care how well-trained you think you are, Mr. Brody. If you don't drop the pistol and kick it away, I promise you. Your commander will no longer need her helmet for this suit.” Daxton tapped his boot against the metal plating on her thigh.
A mighty roar came from behind Daxton, startling him and causing him to pull the blade an inch away from Saren’s neck, so he didn’t accidentally cut her.
Thank you.
Saren snaked the wristcom between her throat and the blade and drove the back of her head into his nose.
Daxton grunted, and she elbowed him, spinning away with the knife and falling like a lithe cat into a crouched position, one leg bent in front and the other straight out to the side. She jammed the blade into the ground aimed the wristcom at him as he reached for his face.
“My fucking nose!”
Before she had a chance to speak, Daxton was lifted off his feet and thrown to the side.
The Kractorian was unbelievably resilient. The stun-setting should have knocked him out for much longer.
Saren stood as Ensign Brody fell in line beside her.
They watched as the two scuffled around on the ground.