Terror on Telderan

by Lawrence Johnson Sr.

information into dozens of crop circles around Earth’s country sides. They wanted to test them. If they can figure out the coded messages they can save themselves. If they do not decipher them in time…well...” Rayna slowly shook her head. “So far only a few exceptional humans have discovered the meanings hidden inside the circles but their leaders have not taken them seriously.”

  J’lore’s mood brightened when he heard the news. “There is hope,” he said. “Thank you my friend.” He gave her a hug. “I will not betray you.” The two left the forest and went their separate ways.

  Telderan and Earth dilemma was not only on the minds of Rayna and Earth’s Guardians. Miles away a meeting of the powerful Planetary Alliance was about to convene. The Great Chamber’s walls where the meetings were held were covered with fine priceless works of art that had been gathered from various galaxies through the years. The soft, blue, lighting emanating from the oval table lit up the room. Lazon’s Apex Volarmor was the first to arrive, his long, tan robe was trimmed in gold, and it fluttered behind him as he briskly approached his seat at the head of the long oval glass table.

  Shortly after his arrival the Emperor of Natropi entered the chamber. Of all the member planets Natropi’s Emperor was the most disagreeable. Many Alliance members were weary of Natropi because of their continued association with Rotart and the Otarians. The Emperor’s entrance was followed by King Ashnar of Deltor, and Elder Manook from the planet Tygalon where most of the galaxies highly prized top quality fruits and vegetables are grown. Following the Elder of Tygalon was King Zerulious of Xanar, a planet known for producing several brilliant inventions including the technological marvel called the enviromentalizer, a series of computers above the planet that controlled the weather. The Supreme Ruler of the water planet Nep’o took his seat next to Elder Manook.

  One by one the members entered the room, greeted each other and sat down on one of the charcoal gray high back chairs. Each chair was equipped with a panel concealing buttons and switches in the arms that allowed members to vote or view images on the glass table in front of them. When the sixteenth member took his seat Grand Apex Volarmor glanced over at the empty chair once occupied by the ruler of Otar and began the meeting. The Apex was a straight forward leader. He was a slender middle aged Lazonian with short bluish black hair and a cropped beard to match.

  His voice was not loud or commanding but somehow he had always managed to hold everyone’s attention and he was known for getting results. “I am aware that you are eager to return to the celebration so I will be brief. The first topic of discussion was whether the Alliance would open trade negotiations with the planet Rayos.”

  The majority of members voted it down in near record time. The next issue was Galaron’s request to be considered to fill the seat in the Alliance left vacant by the departure of Otar. The group’s consensus was that Galaron was not ready, which was a polite way of saying they had nothing to offer the Alliance. Again the vote was no. For the fourth time in as many years the Planetary Alliance had sent a scout ship to find out the fate of the inhabitants of the Planet Akanon and for the fourth time the ship vanished never to be seen or heard from again. Since the android take over many years ago there has been no communication with those presumed to still be on the planet. So many ships have disappeared around Akanon that it had been nicknamed The Planet of Doom.

  “Should another attempt be made to find out what happened to all of those ships?”

  The vote was unanimous. As the members pushed the small red buttons on the little console inside the arm rest of the chair the results could be seen on the screens inside the table in front of them. On this day the votes were a consistent, no, no, and no. It appeared as though the Alliance members would be heading to the festivities early until the Grand Apex brought up the final topic for the day: Telderan. Although a few thousand settlers had been living there for close to one hundred and fifty years the planet was mainly untouched and classified as uninhabited. Most people did not want to live there out of fear of the Nex. Loosely translated it meant violent death. The Apex reminded everyone that as stated in the Alliance charter before a planet could be terra formed an Alliance colony had to live and gather data on the planet for a period of no less than twenty five years.

  The Emperor of Natropi rose from his seat. “We are well aware of the rules Apex, our geologist, scientist, and botanist have been living on Telderan for twenty two years now.”

  The Apex nodded and held up his hand. “It has been brought to my attention that Rotart will attempt to claim Telderan and terra-form it for Otar. After leaving the Alliance he has abandoned our ways, disregarded our rules now his world is in peril and his people are suffering. By terra forming Telderan he would be able to solve many of his problems.”

  King Zerulious of Xanar was also confused about this dilemma. The gray bearded King tried to lift his rather large frame from his seat but quickly decided that it was best to make his point sitting down. “Otarians do not have the knowledge or technology to terra form a planet like Telderan, any attempt would prove to be catastrophic. If he were to acquire such knowledge the settlers and our colony members would be in grave danger. We cannot permit him to do so.

  Elder Manook cautioned the group. “Rotart is a foolish and desperate leader.” Manook was a short, stocky brown skinned man who wardrobe mostly consisted of animal skins; he waived his stubby finger around the table. “Do not forget the prophecies of the Oracles my friends, not just one Oracle but all of our Oracles have for warned us of the day when a planet would leave us and clash with the blue planet known as Earth. Rotart will indeed attempt to terra form Telderan and he will most certainly fail. The emitters we have constructed around the perimeter of the colony and settlement area may protect them from the deadly Nex however it would be of no use against the terra forming process.”

  The room fell silent; one by one the view screens were switched off. There would be no vote on Telderan this day. If the Oracles were correct no matter what decision was made it was inevitable that Telderan and Earth would both be destroyed.

  It was midday on Lazon; the sea was packed with colorful boats filled with cheerful festival goers, some had traveled several light years from planets outside the galaxy. Many adults were busy painting their boats in bold, bright, vivid colors of pink, yellow, red, orange, lime green while the elder members prepared massive amounts of food for the evening feast. Children young and old decorated the boats spread across the ocean and sang songs while putting the finishing touches to the elaborate colorful lanterns made with intricate patterns and designs.

  At dusk the Festival of Life would turn into the Festival of Lights just as it has for thousands of years, but this year would be different. The evening skies on Lazon had slowly turned from a powdery pink to a beautiful vivid orange when a large purple ship appeared directly over the area where the Planetary Alliance had set up their site and viewing stand along the beach. The bottom hatch of the ship slide open and a much smaller craft the same color as the mother ship glided down to the beach near The Grand Apex and a few of the Alliance members. The figure exiting from the ship was no stranger to the Planetary Alliance. Before he exited the small vessel the Alliance members knew from the insignia on the ships door that it was Rotart.

  Thousands along the beach drew closer to see what was going on. Landing a space ship was forbidden during the festival, it was a flagrant violation of tradition, a slap in the face to the ancestors as well as those attending this event. Rotart was tall and handsome with wavy black hair and a short mixed gray and black beard. He stood silently with his hands on his hips, two of his bodyguards stood by his side and four behind him making sure that everyone noticed their still holstered weapons. His bright blue shirt and pants made him look even taller.

  Apex Volarmor was angry; he approached Rotart but was able to hold his temper. He knew that his people, the citizens of Lazon were watchi
ng him and as their world’s leader he did not want to let them down. J’Lore and his family watched the confrontation from the family’s boat near the shore. He was to far away to be to hear but already had a pretty good idea of what was about to be said. Soon the two leaders were standing on the white sand face to face.

  “What do you want Rotart?” Volarmor had played right into his hands; Rotart was ready for the question.

  “I want what is rightfully mine; I want what Otarians have earned.” Rotart clearly wanted an audience; it was obvious that he was speaking less to the Apex and more to those who had surrounded the two leaders. “I want Telderan,” he said in a loud smug tone. “There is no need for you to answer, I know that neither you nor the Alliance has no intention to offer it freely so I have come here as a courtesy to inform you that on behalf of the citizens of the sovereign world of Otar I hereby claim the planet of Lazon.”

  The Apex pointed a finger at Rotart; “You are not capable of transforming an entire planet for habitation anymore than you can fly. It will be a foolish attempt that will cost the destruction of an entire planet.”

  Rotart laughed, “You forget my friend I was there when it was decided that the human species was too violent to live.”

  The Apex looked around at the crowd; he did not want to air private Alliance business in public. He chose his words carefully, “Things change my friend,” he said mocking Rotart’s usage of the word friend. Rotart sneered and began walking back to his ship. The Grand Apex yelled out a final warning, “Remember the prophecies’ of the Oracles.”

  A month following the face off between Rotart and the Grand Apex the inhabitants of Telderan were working in the fields harvesting vegetables that would sustain them during the winter season. Telderan was a unique planet with a pink moon; the skies were red and white. The sparkling blue crystal mountains were captivating especially under the twin moonlight. During the spring and summer seasons red and blue butterflies gracefully fluttered effortlessly through the air. Large blossoming Red drop trees could be seen through this mostly uninhabited world tucked away in this forgotten corner of the galaxy. Telderan looked like a wonderful place to live but as the first settlers here quickly found out, looks are often deceiving.

  No one seemed to notice the heavy black smoke billowing from the supply ship that flew over the heads of the worker in the fields or the children playing nearby but if they had they would have realized that the ship was in trouble and about to crash. On Telderan if a ship is in trouble then so were the citizens.

  Seconds later the ground rumbled as the ship crash landed in a nearby field causing the ground motion sensors to sound the alarm. The adults immediately dropped their tools. With fear in their eyes, they instinctively scooped up their children and ran as fast as they could to the nearby village they called home. The two males without children in the field ran towards the supply ship occasionally glancing overhead as they attempted to rescue the pilot. The injured pilot was not badly hurt but could not walk. Grateful for the help but dumfounded as to why his rescuers’ were so terrified he thought it best to keep quiet. Just as they reached the outer rim of the safety zone he got his answer.

  Two fast, black, ugly, flying creatures swooped down, dug their claws into the back of the guy to his right then jammed their sharp beaks into his back. The pilot screamed in horror as he watched the birds fly off leaving their victim wailing in pain at the top of his lungs as he thrashed violently on the ground. The pilot shook uncontrollably and began to vomit as he watched the villagers quickly drag the lifeless body of their fellow villager into the safety of the compound. Once he regained his composure the pilot, with tears in his eyes walked over to his remaining rescuer and said “Thank you.”

  “Drakon, my name is Drakon you are welcome.” He pointed to one of the silver disk hovering near the entrance, “You are safe now. As long as you stay within the borders of our village the Nex will not attack.”

  The pilot was trying desperately to understand what had just happened. Drakon looked around for his son, Da’Quan, “Let’s go.”

  “Yes, Father.” The small sandy hair boy looked to be about five years old. From the day that the Nex first attacked Da’Quan was given strict orders never to leave the compound unless his Mother or Father was by his side.

  Drakon looked at the pilot, “Come with me I will find you a place to stay until the next ship arrives to take you home.” As they walked Drakon explained about the Nex. He pointed to one of the butterflies, the blue ones are female the red ones the males.

  “That is what killed my friend back there.” When Drakon told him about the butterflies the pilot jerked and ducked away trying to avoid them. He patted the stranger on the shoulder; “You have nothing to fear from these harmless creatures, at least not in their present form. When they drink the nectar from the Red Drop Trees the butterflies go into the caves over there,” he pointed towards the mountains; “they morph into the bat like creatures that attacked us. Once they have transformed the creatures live under ground and are angered by sudden or loud vibrations in the ground. The louder the sound the angrier they get and they appear in greater numbers too. The sound from your ship crashing is what attracted them. The emitters around town keep the inhabitants safe.” Drakon pointed to his arm, “An inoculation is given as added protection but it will only neutralize the poison from only one bite.”

  Back on Lazon the council members of Earth Guardians had gathered at a secret location to await the return of their leader J’lore. Since Rotart’s public confrontation with The Planetary Alliance the rift between Earth’s Guardians and the government of Lazon had grown even wider. The Lazonian government was sure that Earth’s Guardians would make their move and not sit idly by watching as the planet they have sworn to protect is destroyed. As it turned out the Guardians were right.

  J’lore had been granted a meeting with a group of the planets greatest minds, a sect called the Acers. This small, elite group lived in seclusion. Their home is inside the Plateau De Mediation a massive mountain surrounded by the red desert.

  J’lore consulted with three of their members who advised him as to how the Guardians should proceed with their problem. J’lore, Chief council for Earth Guardians had returned and was ready to share what he had learned with the Guardian council. A tired but hopeful J’lore looked around the old metal, gray table in the cramped dimly lit room with the low ceiling. “I know there are those of you who feel that our problems would be solved by assassinating Otar’s leader Rotart but that is not the way of our ancestors therefore, it will not become ours.”

  One of the members protested J’lore’s decision not to have Rotart killed. “It is the only way that we can be sure.”

  “No,” said J’lore. “We cannot, if Rotart is assassinated his successor will be his young and ruthless son Taz. Not only will he carry out his father’s plan he will also seek revenge for his death. We would be of no use to the Earthlings if we engage in a battle with a power hungry psychopath who is determined to destroy us. The information embedded inside the crop circles that the Planetary Alliance has been sending to Earth have been far too difficult for the humans to decipher. Our only hope of saving them is to infiltrate the government’s ship building factories so that we may possess the knowledge to construct the rescue ships. Once we have gathered this information we will send Guardian members to Earth so that they can create more simplified versions of the crop circles for the humans to decode. As you know it is forbidden for the citizens of Planetary Alliance members to interact with the human race however since the Alliance has no one on Earth they will have no way of knowing that we have aided the humans by adding our own circles.” After hours of discussion the council members agreed a plan that would hopefully save mankind.

  The stalemate between Otar and the Planetary Alliance continued for months then one day without warning a shiny black heavily armed Otarian warship appeare
d above the Alliance colony on Telderan. Commanding the warship was Rotart’s abrasive young son Taz. Perched on the edge of the commanders chair Taz consulted with Omar his second in command. Omar was older and wiser, wise enough to know it was better that he not tell his reckless friend that he was about to make a major mistake. He knew Taz was eager to prove to his father and to Otar that he was ready to lead their people. He also knew that Taz was not ready for the job.

  Taz turned to Omar and spoke in a whisper so that crewmembers would not hear. “My Father has grown weak; the time has come for Otar to show the Planetary Alliance and the entire galaxy that we will not be taken advantage of.”

  Omar leaned in toward Taz and reminded him of his father’s instructions. “Why have you delayed delivering your Father’s message? Your instructions were to retrieve the data collected by the Alliance workers in the colony and tell them that we will begin the terra-forming process soon; we could have been here long before now. What do you intend to do Taz?”

  An angry Taz turned to Omar; “Do you question my judgment old friend?”

  Omar quickly shook his head, “No Taz, it’s just that...” Taz held up his hand and Omar knew that the conversation was over.

  “Watch and learn,” said Taz. Omar, Taz and four armed soldiers entered the compound and made their way to the main building where the lab was also located. “I am Taz of the planet Otar, his voice boomed through the facility. Who is in charge here?”

  An older worker came out from behind the desk and walked over to greet Taz, “I am. You are not authorized to be here, you must leave at once.”

  Taz suddenly grabbed the supervisor by the throat and with one hand he lifted the man off of the floor. “I have every right to be here!” he shouted. “You are the trespassers. I have come for the documents pertaining to…” he threw the guy to the floor and turned to his soldiers. “Just take everything.” he ordered.

  The scientist, geologist, botanist and their assistants took one look at the gun toting soldiers and stepped aside. Once the plans were gathered Taz pointed and sneered at the group of frightened colonists as he gave them a chilling warning. “You have one cycle to vacate this planet. One cycle, no more!” Taz and his men returned to the warship. The pilot waited for