by GARY DARBY
Tor’al spread his hands wide. “However, until I meet with him in person this will only be a temporary measure, but I assure you that for now he will hold the peace.”
A broad grin creased Rosberg’s visage. Dason and Shanon exchanged grateful smiles at the news. “That is the best medicine I could ever receive,” Rosberg replied, the relief evident in his voice.
“My clan and I do sincerely thank you. This avoids much bloodshed, sorrow, and hatred for your people and mine, and that is a great thing.”
“Yes, it is,” Tor’al responded. “It would be foolish for us to fight each other, when there are other, greater evils to confront.”
“That is certainly true,” Rosberg answered. “And you have my deepest apologies for the treachery, the lies, the torture that you have endured at the hands of those of my kind who are indeed evil. But from me, you will always hear the truth.”
Tor’al bowed his head. “Among the Sha’anay, we say, ‘Better to grind one’s tooth on the hard rock of truth, than to fill one’s belly with the putrid slime of lies and falsehoods.”
Tor’al turned, laid a hand on Dason’s shoulder, and nodded toward Shanon. “Your friend here tells me that you have a heavy heart, for it would appear that in our escape from the soulless one on your homeworld, we left one of your clansmen in his clutches.
“Is this true?”
Dason nodded soberly. “Yes, Elder Tor’al, my father stayed behind as a hostage to guarantee our safe passage off Earth and for—other reasons.”
“And what are these other reasons?” Tor’al questioned.
Dason’s face grew hard. “It doesn’t matter.” He glanced at Rosberg and Tarracas. “There’s nothing we or anyone else can do about it.”
He sucked in a deep breath and muttered to no one in particular, “I finally found my father, only to lose him . . .”
Tor’al again laid a hand on Dason’s shoulder. “Dason, my human friend, I am in your debt, I am in your father’s debt. Sometimes the young pronounce a thing as unattainable whereas we oldsters see it in a different light.
“So, my young friend, I would ask that you share these matters with me in that perhaps I might, in some small way, repay the debt, if but to listen.”
Dason met Tor’al’s gentle, dark eyes for several moments before he glanced over at Tarracas, who gave him a slight nod of encouragement. “All right,” he answered quietly. “I’ll tell you.”
For several minutes, he recounted the story, ending with, “Several of the Mongan images in my mind are of Jadar Marrel. He’s standing on an alien world; it’s a windswept, bleak world.
“Over his shoulder, I can see two salmon-colored moons. One is small—the other must have been quite large, but it’s splintered, shattered. Numerous large pieces seem to have been blown outward from one whole side of the sphere.”
Dason shook his head and pounded on the back of a chair near him. “I’ve searched every star chart, planetary catalog, and astro database that I could access. There’s no record anywhere of such a planet with moons that fit that description.”
Tor’al peered at him with an intent expression, saying firmly, “Describe what you see again.”
With as many details as he could recall, Dason recounted the planet’s appearance and in particular the two moons. When he finished, Tor’al stared at him for several seconds before he leaned back and let out a loud roar of guttural laughter that seemed to reverberate off the bulkheads.
He leaned over to put both hands on Dason’s shoulders and again laughed loudly. “My young human friend Dason Thorne, you forget that we Sha’anay have been to many, many, more places than your kind.”
A wide smile split his face, and he roared out, “I know the place of which you speak!”
He whirled and strode for the door, waving an arm for Dason to follow. “Come, we must talk to the master of this vessel. There is not a moment to lose; we must get this ship righted to its proper course.”
At the door, he stopped and turned. “Which is to save the clansmen of my adopted son Dason Thorne, one of which waits on a far-off planet for rescue, and the other that we left behind on your homeworld.”
With that, he was out the door, followed by a laughing Shanon, leaving Dason to gape in astonishment, too stunned to move.
He spun around to a grinning Rosberg and Tarracas. Rosberg huffed out, “Well, youngster, what are you waiting for? You know what time it is, don’t you?”
Dason’s mouth hung open for an instant, before he spun around and dashed for the door, stopping just long enough to reply firmly, “Yes sir, I do. It’s time for . . .”
“Scouts Out!”
The End
The story continues in book five
How Far the Stars
The climactic ending to the
Star Scout Saga
Other books by Gary J. Darby
Science Fiction:
The Star Scout Saga
Book One: Star Rising
Book Two: Fallen Stars: Darkest Days
Book Three: Star’s Honor
Book Four: When Stars Fall
Book Five: How Far the Stars
Fantasy:
The Legend of Hooper’s Dragons
Book One: If a Dragon Cries
Book Two: The Queen’s Vow
Author’s Note
Thank you so much for reading my novel. I truly hope you enjoyed the story. The story continues in book five The Star’s Last Trail the climactic ending to the series.
If you’d like to see what I’m working on for future publication visit my website and log into the member’s only section by using the password: Hooper
Check out my blog too and lastly, if you can recommend this story to others please do so by providing a review and posting it to your social media accounts. Free advertising is a blessing to us starving writers.
Again, thanks for reading my novel and I truly hope that all that you read fills you with wonder, awe, and uplifting moments and thoughts.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Professional copy editing services provided by Marthy Johnson of Copy Editing Services (CES). You may contact her at 907.720.2032 or e-mail: [email protected] if you’re an established or a budding author who needs a little help, well, maybe a lot of help with those clunky commas, pesky pronouns, and annoying adverbs.
She’s also the author of Write or Wrong, a nifty reference manual that all authors should have in their personal library as well as Breakpoint Down, an excellent mystery novel.
You might want to check out her newsletter, Word for Word, just for writers that will help you avoid the pitfalls and potholes of writing in this convoluted language we call English, or as I sometimes refer to it, Anguish. You can subscribe to her newsletter by contacting her via email.
As always, dedicated to those who dream of Out There and to the girl of my dreams and fantasies, my eternal sweetheart, Pamela and to our children and grandchildren who fill our days with wonder and awe.
Copyright © 2016 by Gary J. Darby
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form whatsoever without the author’s express permission.
This book is a work of fiction in its entirety. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, description of characters, extraterrestrials, places, and incidents are wholly the product of the author’s imagination.
Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental, I think.
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