Verron_Birth of a Nation

by Douglas Varnell

  After exchanging the latest from Xhondar I and updating the others on some of the latest happenings on Verron, Zimuel and Tlase took everyone upstairs to get settled in their rooms. Paul decided to feed everyone in the small dining room overlooking Robert’s Range and asked, “Lucy, can droids serve food for our guests?” She answered, “They can even cook the meal if they’re programed for it.” Paul thought about how awful droid cooked food would taste and replied, “That’s alright, I’ll do the cooking - they can serve it.” He headed for his suite to get cleaned up and ready for a long evening of company. Wow! Company, he thought, “Paul Verron has a home and his very first ever company.” He was sad for a moment when he thought, “The only thing better would be family.”

  Paul showered and dressed casually for dinner in his Dockers and his favorite Stafford shirt and Nike boots. He realized he had missed his afternoon workout for the first time since arriving on Verron. He began to guilt-trip and paused with a smile as he thought, “But I did manage to nuke a planet and create a black-hole; ain’t life grand?” He had a little time to kill before he had to make dinner, so he decided to watch the news reports he had missed the night before and get his security updates from Lucy. The news once again was the typical theology of whoever owned the network. What really got Paul’s attention was the encrypted communications between the CIA, NSA and the (NIS) Naval Intelligence Service. The location of the hostage couple had been confirmed and two Navy Seal Hostage Rescue teams were being prepared to rescue them. The hostages were 20 miles north of Thamud, Yemen, on the edge of the Rub ‘al-Khali (empty quarter). They were in a small but well-fortified compound, with part of it underground. Located just under 150 miles inland from the Gulf of Aden and the western edge of the Arabian Sea. It would be at least a 300 mile one way trip for the Navy’s MH-60 Night Hawks or the mysterious new stealth helicopter, and a minimum of 24 men would be risking their lives for the mission. Paul watched some happy news with Robin Meade, even bad news was easier to take from her, and asked Lucy to keep a close watch on the hostage situation. He left for the kitchen with only one thing on his mind, and it wasn’t entertaining company.

  Zimuel, Tlase and 99 were in the kitchen ready to help prepare a gourmet Verron meal. Paul decided to Americanize his guests. He first showed Tlase how to make a proper size hamburger patty from the 10 pounds of Angus Ground Beef in the cooler. While she was making the patties, Paul fired up the indoor grill. He then got two packs of Sourdough Buns and thawed them in his combined warmer and rehydration oven. Zimuel was in charge of cutting up fresh tomatoes, lettuce and onions. Paul began to prepare his special skillet baked beans. He started with a pound of bacon fried crisp along with some chopped Vidalia onions, all chopped into small pieces. Without draining the grease he added several cans of pork and beans, dark brown sugar, catsup, mustard and Worcestershire sauce, all blended to his taste buds, no recipe or measurements needed. While the beans were simmering, he had 99 make his special sweet tea. Tlase came over after making the most perfectly proportioned patties he had ever seen, and helped him cut up potatoes for French-fries. He asked her if she weighed each patty on a digital scale. She smiled and showed him a coffee cup she used to make each portion exactly the same, saying, “I improvised; I had no scale.” While the baked beans and fries cooked, Paul put on the burgers and filled a skillet full of real butter to sauté the onions and a handful of pre-chopped mushrooms. When all was finished, he had Lucy send in the serving droid. They carefully delivered Angus-burgers, baked beans, French-fries, sautéed onions and mushrooms, sweet tea and condiments of mayo, pickles, catsup, tomatoes, lettuce, mustard and BBQ sauce to their guests waiting in the small dining room. Paul, really homesick for some reason, paused to remember how much fun it used to be at the holidays when the entire family was in the kitchen making team work of preparing a meal; it won’t be long, he thought, not long at all.

  Everyone ate like they hadn’t eaten a meal in years. None but Paul had ever had a meal like this and as head chef he got plenty of accolades. The Xhondarian’s were a little uncomfortable when 99 sat down at the table to eat with them, but soon found him to be good company. He after all, could understand every word they said, even if they couldn’t always understand him. Ninety-nine was pleased that he could eat everything with his hands except the beans. Paul was the main topic of conversation. It seemed everyone had something to say about him. When the conversation turned to Paul fighting the droids, 99 got excited and kept saying “au igh” over and over. Then somehow Tlase got on the subject of 99 helping her and how he rode the “crotch rocket” and he really puffed up with pride and kept saying, “id och oke.” Yadvega looked at 99 and said, “Young man, would you like to learn a language that requires no “t”, “l”, “r” or “s” sounds? There is a group of beings on Cronari that have no lips and limited use of their short tongues and have a very old language that serves them well. If you will allow me, I will teach it to you and Tlase. You should be able to converse as well as others here do in Xhondarian or English.” Ninety-Nine was nodding his head and grinning that ugly grin over his excitement to learn.

  Gljarne and Xhing Li had a hard time accepting Paul’s abilities in Jxansa Gha. Paul smiled and replied, “You’ll get a chance to test me tomorrow just like Zimuel had a chance to test me today.” Paul hadn’t intended to open that can of worms and he knew that if asked, Zimuel would tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. They did in fact turn to Zimuel and ask. Paul was prepared for a long drawn out explanation. Zimuel however surprised him by saying, “Let’s just say that Paul has shown a real talent for using The Power and is in my opinion equal to any one of the Elders in his mastery of it.” They all nodded and he was thankful that Zimuel had no desire to let anyone know he could do what he did.

  They were finished eating and there were 5 hamburgers left on the table. Paul, as usual, had made to many baked-beans. He piled everything together and as he rose from the table said, “I want you to meet the newest member of our family, my good friend Zeus.” Looking at the pile of table scraps, his guests just assumed he had some sort of pet close by. Ninety-nine got excited and since he could not sound a Z or an S, the name came out “eu,” as he was sounding it, while he raced towards the direction of the east terrace. It goes without saying his guests were shocked, except Yadvega. Yadvega was full of surprises. She immediately went over and touched Zeus gently on the side of his huge head and smiled. “He greeted me in Russian, because I was thinking in Russian; aren’t dragons the most wonderful creatures?” she said to everyone’s amazement. After a long silent pause, as Zeus and Yadvega touched minds, Yadvega finally said, “I’m almost positive I knew his life-mate.” There was another long pause and the secret was revealed about how Dragon King had healed Zeus and how he was now bonded to Paul. Yadvega walked over to Paul, and in tears gave him a hug, saying, “Thank God someone can still do it, no one that I know of has been able to do it for over 2000 years. Young man, you really are special.” She then smiled and added, “Maybe you are the Dragon King. You certainly are to Zeus.” Paul gave her another hug of gratitude; this woman did not hand out compliments arbitrarily. Only Zimuel and Tlase knew what she was talking about. Paul had no doubt that on her return to Xhondar I the senior members of the council would know as well.

  Zeus was the center of attention for most of the evening; after Yadvega explained how dragons communicated using their thoughts and yours, everyone had to touch the dragon and test it out. Zeus kept referring to Paul as Dragon King. For a dragon who lived on Earth for centuries, having a king as his friend or master was not unusual. The others reverted to calling him the name in jest and Paul accepted their harassment with his usual good nature. Finally, Yadvega, of all people declared why not, this planet does in fact belong to Paul, and in the not too distant future he will be ruling whoever inhabits this world. He was surprised by Zimuel’s input, when he spoke up saying, “I know Paul better than any of you and have spent more time with him in th
e past year and a half than anyone. I for one would follow him as my leader without question. Paul once used a saying from Earth that I have not forgotten. He probably doesn’t even remember saying it. He said, ‘If looks like a duck, it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, then it’s probably a duck.’ I know it’s a stupid saying, but, Paul acts like a king should, thinks like a king should and speaks like a king should, he owns an entire planet and can do things no other leader can do. There is no doubt in my mind that he will lead like a king should as well.” Tlase quickly agreed and added, “We called him Dragon King as a joke the day he rode in on a dragons back, but I will admit, I can think of no one who better deserves that title.”

  Paul was beginning to get embarrassed and felt uncomfortable being the center of this conversation when Bhlani declared, “We seem to be the only people on this planet now, so let’s vote. All in favor of Paul Verron being declared king of Verron so indicate by raising their hand. Everyone, including 99 raised their hand and Zeus growled, “I have no hands, but I say yes.” Bhlani, smiling, continued, “Well, Paul, you are the first king in history to be unanimously affirmed king by the entire population of a planet, including a dragon and a goat/monkey. All hail King Verron – the Dragon King – Long live the king.” They all repeated Bhlani’s affirmation, congratulated Paul on his new kingdom and decided to retire for the evening.

  It was getting late when Paul finally returned to his room. He didn’t really know what to think about his newly elected title, but he promised himself then and there that he would do his utmost to be the best leader he could possibly be, whether he was a king or not. He was ready to kick off his shoes and brush his teeth before bed when Lucy stated, “Their going in tonight.” Paul at first didn’t understand the comment, then quickly raced to his office and asked, “Can you show me?” As he entered his study, Lucy already had the encrypted classified Navy communications on Paul’s monitor, and a holographic map of Yemen and the shore line of the Arabian Sea. There was a 3D image of an aircraft carrier about 100 miles off the shore of Yemen. Lucy then brought the image of the compound into much closer 3D focus using the satellite she had hovering only 2000 feet above the small villa. Paul could count 16 well-armed men inside the compound and at least another 60 very well concealed men surrounding the place, armed with 12.7mm heavy machineguns and 7.62 mm light machine guns, mortars and rifles, and no doubt a SAM or two. If Lucy had not been using her life-sign targeting system they would have been invisible from even her drone and definitely had been unseen by the CIA drone overhead. This group of terrorist was prepared and waiting for any rescue attempt, and looking at the surrounding terrain the men could see and hear anything approaching for miles. Paul could see no way the Navy Seals could sneak in, even if they did have those alleged stealth helicopters.

  Paul had Lucy zoom in for a closer look, and could see very plainly two guards on the outside of a small building, no doubt there were more men inside with the hostages. There were two more on the inside by the walled gate, one on each corner of the perimeter wall, four on top of the tall center building and the rest patrolling the inside grounds. The small villa sat on the crest of a low hill. Not very high up, but high enough to see for miles in this flat barren countryside. As he had Lucy hover her drone in a circle around the outside perimeter to get a better view of anything else around the place, he observed, in a slightly lower area a quarter mile behind the compound, what appeared to be a small terrorist training camp. Nothing like the big camps the fundamentalists like to broadcast in their propaganda films, but large enough for 10 to 20 recruits. It was late at night in Yemen and only a few where out milling around. Paul took one more very careful look at the hologram, had Lucy once again give him the larger view that included the location of the USS Carl Vinson and asked, “How much time we have?” She paused a few seconds and replied, “Wheels up in 25 minutes.”

  Paul headed for his closet to prepare for the night ahead. He quickly dressed in what he now called his commando outfit and took a proud look at his latest change to his gear. Instead of his two Ka-Bar knives he carried in each boot, he had modified the scabbards and now carried two Randall Made 8 inch Fighting Stilettos. He knew that eventually he would make a copy of which knife he liked best out of much better and lighter Verron Steel. He attached his small fanny-pack style backpack, definitely not military grade, and smiled at the fact that with his new increased capacity pack, he now carried four of the same size plasma grenades he had used in Somalia, more than enough to level a city, in a cheap nylon Taiwanese made Gucci knock-off. He pulled on his black 3-hole polyester face mask and donned his black boonie hat and headed for the study for one last look at the hologram and to give instructions to Lucy before he made his gateway to Thamud, Yemen. He was walking briskly from the closet to the study when there was a knock on his door, and without waiting for an answer, in walked Bhlani and Zimuel. They saw Paul and nearly retreated then Zimuel said, “Paul.” Somewhat wondering if there was a stranger in his room. He paused and pulled his face mask up high enough to show his face and snidely said, “Remind me to start locking my door.” Zimuel walk over to him and replied, “We’re sorry for barging in on you, but Bhlani is like a man possessed to get a plan in action for a motorcycle dealership on Xhondar.” Paul looked at his two friends and pulled his mask back down, as he continued to walk toward his study he told them, “I’m sort of busy right now. It will have to wait till I get back. Gotta go save the world. Lucy will explain.” With that, he made his gateway and was gone. The two of them had followed him into the study just as he vanished and simultaneously said, “Lucy. What is he up to?” She replied, “I’ll let Paul tell you all about it when he gets back, for now just watch.” A crystal clear video came on the monitor as it was broadcast real-time from the drone above the compound.

  It was 1:43 A.M. in Thamud, Yemen on a crystal clear night, with a new moon, there where millions of stars visible, shinning in the desert sky. Paul suddenly appeared inside the villa compound only a few feet from the two guards on the front gate, a knife in each hand. Before they could accept the fact that there was man standing there between them, they were both dead. Paul had never killed a man up close and personal before. In fact the man in the alley in San Francisco was the first ever, but he had no time to dwell on that or change his mind. His razor sharp fighting stilettos sliced the two men throats so quickly they died instantly and made no noise. Before their bodies had hit the ground Paul performed what he had been practicing with the fighting droids. He moved so fast that on the video feed in his study Bhlani and Zimuel could not follow his actions. All they saw was one body after another dropping to the ground and bleeding out from the throat. Paul had jumped to the top of the wall first and cleared it in a flash, proceeding to the top of the center building. In seconds he was dropping the remaining soldiers in the courtyard. Suddenly the two guards in front of the hostage lock-up where on the ground. Paul stood a moment in front of the door. The reflection of blood on his hands and arms was visible from the incredibly clear imaging of the drone. In one swift motion, he kicked the door completely off its hinges and ran in. All that was left to see from above were the lifeless bodies inside the compound. Those outside didn’t have a clue what was going on.

  When Paul entered there were three men inside with the hostages. Two were armed guards; they died first, quickly followed by the man holding an exposed copper wire to the male hostage’s private parts. The naked woman tied to a chair next to him was already unconscious and never saw what happened. The man, still in pain, had a look of total shock on his face as he looked at the three dead men. Paul quickly cut the nylon ties holding the man and woman’s hands and legs bound to the chairs. There was no time to get them properly dressed, he grabbed a couple of blankets from the corner cots, obviously used by the two guards inside, and tossed one to the man and gently wrapped the other around his wife as he picked her up in his arms. She was so emaciated that he could easily pick her up with one arm. He used the oth
er to reach into his Gucci Fanny-pack, quickly removed one plasma grenade and pressed the time delayed detonator. He had 10 seconds. He carried the woman with one arm and grabbed hold of the man with the other and as he headed for the door and spoke, “Lucy, the lady can’t swim.” As they all three stepped through the door their feet hit the metal deck of the USS Carl Vinson instead of the sands of Yemen. Lucy nailed the location on the ship deck perfectly.

  Lieutenant Commander William “Wild Bill” Ethridge had finished his Seal Team 2 and Seal Team 10s last minute briefing, all the men were loading up and preparing to depart in the two awaiting V-22 Ospreys. He would have rather taken the usual MH-60 Night Hawks, but they didn’t want to take that many helicopters on this mission. There were 36 men plus all their weapons and equipment and they planned to bring two more people out with them. To avoid early detection on their way in, they planned to fly in across Oman and the southern deserts of Saudi Arabia then approach the compound from across the “empty quarter” to its north. The V-22 had more speed and range for the longer trip. He was receiving his final clearance from Commander Garrison when a PO3 Aviation Machinist Mate came running up to the hatch he was about to close, screaming, “SIR, YOU’VE GOT TO SEE THIS, NOW!” Wild Bill’s temper flared at the lack of proper discipline the young kid was displaying. He commanded, “Move away from this aircraft or be charged with interference of a critical mission. Don’t you know who we are?” The Lieutenant Commander proceeded to secure the Osprey hatch. The young PO3 stuck his arm through to block him from doing so and yelled, “THEIR HERE, YOU NEED TO ABORT!” A furious Wild Bill shoved the door open so hard the Machinist Mate was knocked to the flight deck. He stepped out of the plane to see a small gathering of Seamen a few feet away, standing to close for his team to take off safely. As he approached the men he noticed an unbelievably bright light to the northeast of their position. He had never seen anything so bright in his entire Navy career. The crewmembers scattered as Wild Bill pushed through. There lying on the deck, wrapped in blankets, were a very badly abused man and woman. He recognized them from their photos. He looked around and asked, “How the hell did they get here?” By this time his second in command, Lieutenant Clark, had come over to see what was going on, he turned and told him, “Abort” then called for the medics to take care of the wounded.