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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
a friend of Kaptin Komma.

Submitted: June 19, 2017

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Submitted: June 19, 2017









Sleek as one can be when encased in a rotund belly, is as slim and slender as one can get, and still look good.  The mirror did not hide the bumps that showed of the curvy features of the gormless admirer, of himself.  The lone being dwelt in a black and white lighthouse.  It protected the craggy shores.  A small world of one land-locked ocean was enough and still big.  It was actually one of the largest oceans for many lightyears.  Yet the land was one massive continent.


The starry sky sank into the dark dank waves.  The eyes of Gsan Syr wandered into nothingness.  Ships were scarse.  Trading existed mostly on the East Shores of East Land.  On this world, everything was made simple.  Gsan lived on the West Lighthouse of the West Land.  He was about to return to his card game.  It was a simple game of charades.  Something though caught his eye, up among the stars. 


A gliding spot was getting closer.  The red dot was heading for the lighthouse.  Flight on that world was very limited.  To see a machine in the air was quite alarming.  Only light kite planes graced the airs of this world.  They could scatter dust for crops.  Some carried important objects or people, when really wanted.  The ocean was two thousand miles across and two thousand from Northfold to Southpoint.  Small islands dotted the ocean.  Allowing planes to land or hop-scotch about.


To see a craft landing on the flat part of the rock that held the beaming tower, stirred the large resident to run breathlessly for his larger binoculars and a radio.  Gsan had to inform the headland office.It was ten miles away, where the town of Westby quietly lay.  The grey humanoid Gsan Syr whined over the airwaves, ‘mayday, mayday, something is coming, over, mayday.’





In the humble town of Westby most residents were at supper.  Usually the ‘humoid’ race sat down and supped on oat morsels and warm busberry milk.  The majority of the ten thousand families were in bed and dozing.  The world never had much trouble.  All was very simply done.  The greatest excitement was sports day for the men or market day when women spent a weekly wage on treats or fashion.  Dreams were probably mostly of these aspects.  Nightmares were when the weather had spoiled the crops for harvest time.  The war with home fare was more important than warfare with the other nations.


Wars are rare on a world with only five nations on one continent and a group of islands.  Southpoint was poverty driven.  The island nation Centro was remote and only accepted limited stopovers from across the sea.  Two nations in the East and West were purely for agrcultural purposes.  It was Northfold that was cultivated and modern. 


This small world was busy and bustling at two billion.  The expectation of outsiders from another world was rare.  Yet some beings had visited on several occasions.  None caused much trouble.  Only mythical tales of dragons and iron giants on the lost island of Centro.


It was the Westby coastguard that was to be next among those historical events.  The two uniformed men scoffed down their supper.  Their big telescope was directed at the distant lighthouse.  One of the men was calling the Mayor of Westby, as the other saw the red light descend.  The thought of mayday rang through darkness of the planet, Verdax.




The world Verdax is a vast place.  Yet news travels fast.  A static current around the globe allows the radiowaves to reach farout lands.  One such realm is called Wetland.  This is a city set beneath the one and only Best Ocean.  It is between Centro and Southpoint.  The nearly 100,000 Wetmen and women have scouts that view the world above the waves.  These humoids have gills.  Enabling them to breath under the sea.  Protected by a unique island of algi, Wetland was the last to receive the mayday alarm. 


It was the Wetmen that had the technology and fighters to protect the world.  Northfold would deal with the matter at hand first.  Then send, if trouble increased, envoys to find Wetland.  Verdax was basically a very simple world.  They had a system and it generally worked.  If trouble came then the word mayday would be called out.  Summoning the armed forces of the watery might.  The Warriors of Wetland.


* * *





An impossible cold wind, blew from the distant depths of space.  A silent sigh of relief was felt, from empty worlds.  Some unknown empires had heard of the Scary Knights.  Tales from far flung galaxies arrived via the odd cargo space vessel of space advanced societies.  The name of one alien stopped kings and princes from any celebrations.  Whole nations of armies stopped in their tracks and hid in the recesses of mountains.  An armada of Scaronites could be reasoned with.  But one reckless nightmare had entered the Remote System of the Known Universe.


A whoosh of sound raced through the solar system.  A violet vapour trail scoured the dark matter.  The central world of others came closer.  Glowing sunlight warmed the slowing projectile.  Lights flickered inside the oval machine.  The cramped pilot within showed an unseen wry smile.  If pirates existed in space, then this character would be one of them.  From the silence of space announced the silent words of this space tyrant, ‘Land Ho!’


It had been over two Earth years since it all started.  Mostly long forgotten.  Yet never forgotten too.  Murder cannot be left behind like a pair of suitcases.  It comes along with all the other baggage that the sound brain contains.  Some worlds of gambling and others seedy vices helped to cast off the shackles of the past.  It allowed the killer to unleash a new kind of monster.  Hopefully a shallow yet approachable rogue.  At least that was the blind truth of a lying mindset.


A small reflective panel showed the cold eyes of mirth.  Bloodshot pupils recalled the drama of Paxel.  It was there that a serving youth was wrongfully arrested for the theft of a special weapon.  It was a laser pistol that slowed down time.  Long enough to allow a person to avoid a bullet.  Or taunt some simple minded kind.  The event on a gambling ship that orbited a moon.  Space police of that galaxy chased the pirate to the ends of the Earth.  At least that was the phrase in the thiefs language.


Another venture was a Scaronite invention not safe to be used.  Yet it was taken and tried by the wanted alien.  It enable the orb craft to grow wings and swoop with greater agility.  And it looked cool too.  It was the perfect gadget for the notorious pirate, Drib, Scourge of the Skies.



Drib was an enigma.  Not many knew where this person came from.  Most known worlds had heard about the situation concerning the planet Earth.  It had been closed off to any outsider.  Only the odd Scaronite was allowed to visit there.  It was sometime after this event that the trouble began.  The pirate had caused discord in several solar systems.  All had been peaceful for a short eon.  Even the Scaronites had gone home for break in scaremongering.


‘Unwanted’ posters had been put up in law abiding worlds.  Even the criminal elements wanted no dealings with the uneasy might of this newcomer.  A being of grey humanoid head and limbs was crudely drawn and printed.  The large purple shell seemed to match the oversized villain of the peace.  Drib the Space Pirate.


The buccaneer did go by other titles.  The Dark Drip.  The Dreaded Demon.  Or the Drab Dropout.  Anyway, the portrait was far from precise.  Drib was a lean fighting machine.  His appearance had altered to a bronzed chamelion.  ‘So be warned,’ so it said in small print, ‘if any errors have been made of the pirate, Drab, or Drib…Oh whatever?’





Gsan Syr tucked in his shirt around his overwhelming waist, for probably the hundredth time.  The stone staircase spiralled down to the exit of the lighthouse.  The crackling radio, the comforts of home and the glaring light were forgotten.  Before stunned eyes, at the bottom of the track that lead eventually into town, there sat or stood a huge egg shaped monolith.

Something unverdaxian appeared outside the strange purple oval.


The sweating lighthouse keeper tried to smile and be as polite as possible to the stranger.  ‘Welcome,’ came over his squeeky tones.  Two stretched out arms signalled the worldly show of faith and compassion.  The pink humoid prayed in his mind, for a friendly response.


One alien hand met the right hand of Gsan.  He was almost relieved.  That was just before a shocking pulsed raced up his arms and seemed to cause his hair to errupt into flames.  The right hand went limp.  The torso of Gsan Syr flopped to the rocky floor.  The wind rushed by along with the surf of the nearby ocean.  An evil glare came over the face of the alien.  The stunned victim heard and understood the cold remarks of this outsider.  ‘One nil to me,’ revealed the evil rile of the pirate.



The mayor of Westby had joined the men in the head office.  It was a relay station.  Part of the Westland and Verdax Global Communication Network System.  Cables had been lain worldwide.  Allowing knowledge of present day circumstances.  Especially if something important had occurred or needed reporting.  The lighthouses around the Best Ocean were watchtowers. 


In the brick square of a fort like hut, the mayor radioed to the lighthouse.  Static hissed and crackled for a minute.  The two office men stood beside their town leader, Mayor Smee.  He was a squat rotund man.  Yet he was quite fit for his condition.  His grey hair matched his mature nature and personality.  The men observed him ardently click the hand com clicker with his clasping thumb.


The night was still present.  The shadowy office seemed to echo around the candlelit three men.  Then all shimmering light seemed to pause.  A totally alien voice resonated out of the single speaker on the office desk.  The blood curdling drilling drone said, ‘I hope you lock your doors at night.’



Drib the Scaronite was not a murderer.  He seldom killed anymore.  This alien left his bad days well behind.  It did not stop him from being a terror.  Eversince that ultimate day, Drib had grown up.  Still he was a killer.  It had to happen sometimes.  It was etched with blood into his heart.  The alien looked at the forlorn body of Gsan Syr.  Gently propping him against the front door of the lighthouse.


Drib had just announced his arrival to the leader of the area.  All that he trully sought was any toys to take to entertain his way of living.  The dizzy humoid looked up at the odd alien.  His look was asking for a reason for his disposition.  ‘Relax,’ insisted Drib, ‘I am not a butcher.’ 


At that he left Gsan Syr alone and alive.  Drib skipped weirdly to his ship.  The lump of a lighthouse keeper half fainted into himself and the stone step of his home.  Quite relieved to be safe and free. He was glad that he had purchased a new doormat that read, ‘Welcome All.’  Just below a poster for the seriously wanted theif,  “The Dark Drip…”

* * *




Dubin Partoc closed his back door.  His home was on the Northern part of Westby.  The thin young man worked at a small warehouse that stored farming equipment.  Westland had a big farming industry.  The place of work housed ploughs and harrows for cultivating the land.  Dubin had been cleaning a plough thick with mud.  It was there that he had been chatting with the pretty milk maid Stully Stem. 


Together with farm hand Cad Dorm a big lug of a man.  They each were talking about the barn dance that was due.  Cad giggled when he observed his friend ask the golden haired girl, for a dance at the event.  The young couple were flirting at night with friend who thought it all a bit embarrasing.  Cad just got on with his job of shoveling up the mud from the ploughs.  Then returning it to the fields, the next day.


The time was past midnight.  The threesome were locking up the warehouse.  When the son of the boss turned up.  The shady man pushed Dubin, the smaller man into a wall.  His right arm had his throat and neck against the locked door.  Stully moved to stop the situation.  Cad sulked into a shadow.  Not wanting to get into trouble again.  Cad was a gentle giant.  And simple minded.  The blue faced Dubin stared at the worm like other man.  It was Simva Med who enjoyed in being a monster. 


Dubin kneed his boss in the stomach.  It allowed him to run free.  The slim man raced into the dark night.  Followed by the horrible humoid.  Dubin ran hard, towards the distant head office.  It was not for the warehouse.  It was where Mr Nasty would meet the Dark Drip.  A silent bullet from a cata-gun, made to scare off scavenger birds, hit the back of the neck.  Sending Dubin reeling to foot of a door.  Simva moved fast ready to kick his pathetic looking rival for the same lovely girl.



Simva Med Senior was a big part of the farming community of Westland.

His machinery of ploughs, harrows, planting and conform harvesters, helped the country to keep ahead of the global rivals of Eastland.  Having staff to do the dirty parts of the industry was part and parcel of the industry.  Med Senior was a well known name in Westby.  He was a shadowy figure with a parrot like head and nose.  His son had a close resemblance. 


The younger version of himself, was not as fair as his character.  Some dark mind stirred in Simva Med Junior.  Greed was not a usual for the folk of Westland.  Except fot getting the harvest in on time.  After his wife had died of a nasty cold, the son had been affected too somehow.  The owner of Westby Farming Equipment felt his offspring could become some kind of despotic leader, when he was gone.


Med Junior had always wanted the pretty blonds.  When he noticed that Stully Stem was not interested in him, his vindictiveness overcame him.  If he could not get what he wanted, he would do what it takes.  Even go beyond being mean.  He enjoyed toying with a small but lethal pocket knife.  He would twirl it.  Or juggle with it, deftly in his right hand.  He would sometimes throw it accurately at any wooden posts.


The other plaything for Med Junior was the menacing cata-gun.  Similar to a catapult but more definite.  It was this that had sent a numbing pin to sink deep into the back of his foe.  The mind of madness would have its day or night.  In a simple world of simple deeds, Simva Med Junior often thought what a petty world he lived in.  He could rule it easily.  That was the dream of Mr Nasty.





The discarded lighthouse keeper was soon left behind.  The purple pod of a Scaronite hummed to life.  Specially attached wings unfolded.  Two limbs swooped back.  The whole object was like an egg with wings of a jet fighter.  All made of a shell that was plastic and steel in strength and guise.  The flying machine rotated towards the town of Westby.  The night flora and wildlife were passed over.  Ten miles of fields and glades were met by the candlit streets. 


A higher square building was in sight.  Brick or wood, the black of night hid the features of all houses and other structures.  The orb rested on the roof of the head office.  A openned window was quickly shut from within.  Some shadowy figures moved out of sight.  Drib exited his craft and descended through openned skylight.  He was soon in the presence of the hiding Mayor of Westby.


‘Come, forth,’ insisted the alien, in an angry tone.  He was not that moody.  It was because a Scaronite always sounded that way.  Drib beckoned with his arms, ‘Come out, come out who ever you are.  I only come for profit, not violence.  Unless I am provoked.’


Mayor Smee stood by a yellow candlelight.  ‘What do you want? We have nothing to outsiders.  We are a simple people.’


‘That is what I have heard too,’ revealed the menacing grey brown face.  ‘I only wish to have a holiday here.  Do you have them here?  I would like to wander your world, in peace.  To relax after years of running.  You can sign me a deed that would allow me sanctuary in your world.  What do you say?  Please do not get me angry.’


The Mayor of Westby thought long and hard.  Others would not allow this.  Unless there was a good reason for the deed.  ‘Do you know anything about farming?’  He politely suggested to the much taller alien.


Drib thought about his human past.  He once worked on ranch as a youth.  Rounding up cattle in the dusty hills of New Mexico.  He also enjoyed mucking out the stables.  His alien face smiled the best it could.  ‘What are you thinking?’


This is mostly an agricultural world.  I could give a permit.  A deed to go around the lands, checking on the quality of the soil.’ 

Drib stared scarily, ‘that sounds like work to me.  Not a holiday.’

‘Yeah but it means you can travel the world in peace.  The deed is for you entire life, on the planet Verdax.’


Silence filled the quiet dark office.  Deep breathing came from the two nervous head office men.  The stood behind their mayor.  Propping the round leader.  They were signalled to make out the instantly acquired document.  The pair were used to forms.  They found the usual form for sending Farming Officers to check livestock and crops.


And so the dirty deed was done.  The scoll was shown to Drib.  The Mayor signed it and used his ring to merge melted wax.  With this Drib the scary alien could travel the globe.  All he wanted was a break from wandering the universe.  Robbing and fighting was a hard industry.  Even mean fighting machines like a lone Scaronite, needed a break.  A relaxing hike around pretty parts of Verdax, would help to recharge his batteries.  Drib did have a hidden plan to change his method of living.  He wanted to be relatively good.  He smiled to himself, Drib the Dogooder.



The Mayor allowed Drib to leave and soar slowly away into the night. 

He was prodded lightly by both office men.  What - showed the face of their leader.  ‘The alarm sir,’

‘What alarm?’

‘The alarm to the other lands, sir.’  Both men spoke as one.  ‘They have been signalled, sir.  You know what that means, Sir?’

Mayor Smee thought for a second, a big alarm rang in his head.  ‘Oh shazbot.  The Warriors are coming.  Oh shazbot, the Warriors are coming.’






The human Brad stood on the roof of an alien world.  It was early morning.  Stars were still shining brightly.  No moon shone over this globe.  Yet it still had that Earthly feel.  The scent of flowers and fields of edible foods filled his alien nostrils.  As he stared and dreamt, a commotion stirred below somewhere.  Hovering in his orb, he peered down over the edge of the office block.


Beneath his feet lay the blooded form of a humoid man.  Another was poised, kicking the life out this youth.  Beyond in the dark, another bigger man came carrying a girl.  The scenario puzzled Drib.  But the yob below.  He understood his kind very well.  Before the lain man could be hit for the umpteenth time.  A light appeared above his head.


Mr Nasty was being blocked by a crazy mist.  It caused him to jolt back.  A hovering being formed between the attacker and the victim.  A hissing humoid cursed, ‘Who ever you are, get out of my way now.’


A brutish voice spoke from the egg shaped thing, that stood at over six foot tall. ‘You fool.  Run before I show you the same pain,’  Drib pointed to the waining young man.


Mr Nasty threw a small sharp object at the eyes of the alien.  The metal hit the skin of the cell.  It disolved into nothing.  The stunned thug growled.  The girl now grabbed his arm, insisting that Mr Nasty should go.  At that moment, the bad man stuck his pen-knife at the neck of his new toy.  ‘Go! You idiot, or she gets it.’


Drib saw the nasty man and what he had.  ‘Call that a knife,’ he breathed. 


A blue hand pistol cut off the hand of Mr Nasty.  Blood spewed out.  The girl was pulled away by the gentle giant.  The pen-knife fell to Mr Nasty’s other hand and pushed into the torso of the giant young man.  The weary Dubin Partoc saw his friend dying.  His girl crying and his boss’s son lying down.  The whole incident only took a few seconds.  Two minutes at the most. 


Dubin then saw the alien egg point a new gun at the area.  Lights flickered fast.  Apart for him, everything else went back in time.  Just before Cad Dorm had been stabbed, a shield of light had been placed around his form.  The pen-knife was gone like the bullets and cata-gun of Mr Nasty.




A rubber like unseen screen blocked the attack from the raging man.  It repelled his advances.  Simva Med Junior lay haunched upon the dark earthy floor.  The young ogre had been hurt.  This made him stray away into the night.  Victory was not his.  He would have his day.  His voice haled from the undergrowth, ‘You have not seen the last of me, Dubin Partoc.’ 


Drib moved out of his orb.  The alien attended to the young man.  ‘How do you feel?’

Dubin nursed his cut and bruised side.  Beside him stood his friends Cad Dorm and the pretty blond girl Stully Stem.  They saw him but did not understand his words to the stranger.  Something weird had happened. 


‘You did something with that gun?’  inspired the tone of the dark haired humoid.  ‘What was it?  You saved my friends, why?’


Drib patted the aching youth on his shoulder.  He smiled and grunted, ‘I moved time back for a bit.  I could not let you and your friends die in vain.  That guy was a danger to anyone.’


Dubin noticed his friends were perturbed about something.  He looked at the alien for an understanding.  The grey brown man with a shell torso checked the strange handgun.  A light had stuck on.  It had malfunctioned.  Drib gave it a smack with his hand.  The air seemed to buzz for a second.  Dubin said something, his friends moved closer to him.

‘Now we can hear you.  What happened?’

Drib explained, ‘This is a time-gun.  It allowed me to control time.  It also had a glitch.  We two were talking in a different time frame.  All is fine now.  You better shoot off now.  I have to world to explore.’


The three teenagers watched the stranger return to his six foot tall pod.  It gleemed purple.  Rose slowly away toward the North.  Before he could go further, Dubin shouted, ‘Hey! Thanks.’  At that the alien had gone into the night.





Far away in a land beneath the sea, lay the modern city called Wetland.  It was the most sophisticated place on the planet.  It was more advanced than Northfold.  The Northern country had all the mod cons of most worlds of quality.  Power, wealth and community might.  Yet they did not have the offence or defensive aptitudes.  The populace of Verdax, left trouble at the hands of the Warriors of Wetland.


Jad Dormance stood in his dormatory for himself and nine other of his kind.  They were part of the Wetland Warrior Cadet Force.  The young fighter posed before a wall mirror, admiring his growing form.  He was almost a warrior private.  Clear mist swirled in this watery city, as he moved in ballet style.  With stylish accuracy he hit an imaginary foe in the head.  Then stopping in a graceful stance.  A flicker of light told him that his comrades were coming in.


The boastful friends dashed in.  Stopping beside their bunks.  Routing through their belongings.  It was a race to get ready.  Jad was told by the nearest cadet. ‘It’s the signal.  We have been called to order.  One or some of us, are to be chosen.  It is both a test for us cadets and an actual mission.  Quick Jad, the Sarg is coming.’


The appearance of a Wetlander is a strange one.  They are very slender oval head, limbs and torso.  Females are mostly pink with blue fins.  Males are blue with pink or blue fins.  These fins allow them to swim fast and agile.  They can also fly with or without a special kind of surfboard.  The Warriors are the best at combat.  Long as they are nearby water.  They are virtually indistructable.  They can emit power surges from their hands or board.  That can be awful for an unwary foe.


Although they look sleek and weak.  A trained warrior can kill with one blow.  The strong force is based in the warrior sector of the city.  Wetland is all under the sea.  The race can breathe with gills, in water.  Or cope with air above the waves.  The city has a clear mist in most places.  Some special halls have areas for visitors from above. 


A huge city centre has a busy industry of innovation.  It is next to the largest shopping mall on the planet.  Allowing fishy shoppers watery fun.  The north part is the housing quarter.  To the west is the Sea Farm, that encompasses the Warrior sector.  South is the Sea Forest were specialists care for the world.  The west sector is the amazing Skylab.  It can raise up to the ocean surface.


It is here that the Wetland Warriors have their flying boards.  These come out of a huge spaceship that can exist in most places.  Land, Sea or Space.  This is the greatest creation of the planet.  It hides some secrets.  It is where the five selected Wetland Warriors soared from.  Heading for Westland.  To the doomed souls of their wrath.


Jad Dormance stood with another of his cadets.  They were on the deck of the Skylab.  Two senior officers stood also with their leader Captain Torit.  This was a cool and very clever officer.  The Captain was more lean and taller than his men at over seven foot.  His team were a foot shorter, yet all were formidable warriors.  Even the cadets were lean mean fighting machines.  Jad hid his oblong smile.  Wetlanders had very square mouths.  Unless happy or sad.  Most other parts were usually oval or round.


A large clock ticked down the last second of the five minutes.  That was how quick it had been to select the small squadron.  Many more warriors waited for their turn.  Most troubles only required a handful of men or women.  There were some female cadets.  They were usually used to fight any female or girly wars.  Secretly the males were too scared of the females.  That was one reason to get a squadron out so fast. 


Before he knew it, Jad and the others were soaring ten feet above the waves.  They left behind the descending Skylab, that sank into the safety of the Best Ocean.  Standing at a tilt on the sky boards, the men raced towards Westland.  At the lighthouse, Gsan Syr saw what the dawn was bringing.  The trail blazing Warriors had come.  ‘Thank the God’, praised the watchtower man.  He could leave any trouble with the Wetland Warriors now.  ‘May the Gods help that alien now,’ finished the humoid, on that wild dark morning.






The end of school alarm shrilled.  Rows of  senior students piled out of the huge tech building.  It was a giant sphere.  Housing all the learning zones for Northfold and visiting persons.  To go into detail would take much time.  Most of the thousand strong pupils headed straight for home, to ‘the estate’.  Some unruly classmates went to ‘the mall’.  This was the cool place to be, in the city.


The over a million populace of Northfold all loved to shop.  Buying the coolest or latest thing.  Was the in thing to do.  Yet most held back till the weekend, that was one long day of browsing.  Two school girls skulked into the diner bar that was next door to the Cosmic Store.  This place had everything.  Best of all it had the latest fashion at a low price.  The girls had purchased two hot looking bangles and the latest edition of NF, with all the gossip of the known world.


Stacee Cad sat close with her pal Suti Stal, they nosed at the abs of pin up farm boy, Froy Fever.  Red head Suti drooled at the man model.  The magazine was full of low priced offers.  Ranging from goldy looking cheek rings.  Or seaweed ankle charms.  The girls were sitting out in the open air, on a veranda looking towards the distant Best Ocean, a few miles away.  The girls dropped their sodi pop drinks at the sight of a weird thing in the sky.


The diner man rushed inside to his boss.  Placing down paper cups on a tray with a blinding sickness.  Slight screams echoed outside.  The diner cook ran out with a rolling pin at hand.  It was met by a strange shell.  The girls were reeling on the floor.  The cook had his hand bounce off the thing and was sent flying back into the diner.  The incident only took a minute.  Yet the fear stayed forever in both girls minds.


Tears flowed on the Mall Cops arms.  The black suited man with a small baton and pepper spray gun asked the blond girl Stacee what had happened?  It was Suti who explained.  ‘A tall man in a big egg with wings.He fell from the sky.  Crashed into us and left laughing.’


Stacee bawled some more and cursed, ‘He stole our new bangles, look!’


The cop noticed red marks on the girls wrists.  Void of any trinkets.  He knew like most, that school girls loved their fashion accessories.  A blue dot was seen high in the sky, flying over the city.  The Mall Cop tried to call in the crime on his static radio.  But was noised out by the two girls who had realised that the page of Froy Fever, had been ripped in the melee. 


Berry Stole strolled along in the thinking sector of Northfold.  This is where clever minds work out their problems or create new ideas or things.  Thin humoid Berry strutted juggling his golden fogwatch that was linked to a chain.  The invention of thought was just about to come to his knowledge.  It had taken an hour of pacing to visualise a boat that could sink into the ocean.  Then his people could join the Wetland Warriors as water dwellers.


Just before he could cry ‘yes’ a shadowy sight swooped down and took his prescious timepiece.  It also made him forget his mentally pictured masterpiece.  ‘Curse you,’ he gesticulated, waving his arms at the orb with wings.  It vanished south of the city.Another citizen saw the crime and reported it to the cops.  The news soon spread to the press and public.  The Daily Fold wrote about,the ‘alien from space.’ Then ‘the Nabber of the North.’  Minds put both reads together. 


Knowledge was found about Drib the Space Pirate.  In a short time the fiend was wanted.  School girls feared him taking their trinkets.  They called him the Scourge of the Skies.  The name spread around the world.  The title was eventually learnt of by Drib who thought, ‘this is going to ruin my holiday plans.’


* * *




Not many humiods lived in the green belt of Northfold.  Only pockets of villages were scattered throughout the large country.  The world Verdax was dominated by the huge singular Best Ocean.  This was noted as the East Side of the Planet.  The West Side was spread towards the Great Lakes.  That were met by a huge volcano that rose almost into the lower stratosphere.  This was the goal for Drib.  The alien had changed his appearance to human.  So he could peacefully hike to the massive sight.


The man from Earth heard of the troubles about the city thief.  It did not matter to him.  It was not him anyway.  He assumed someone had been using his arrival as a way of gaining wealth.  He did not even know that he was the quarry of a elite set of warriors.  Drib was not totally ignorant situation.  It did not stop him from attempting to gain something for himself. 


The planet was a unique find.  It held great energy.  That was a valid prospect for the notortious rogue.  If he could get his orb to the top of the volcano, it could well give it immense power.  Maybe enough to alter time.  Then he could one day return to Earth as a new human.  Not the very much wanted killer.  Brad. 



The trek north was getting colder.  The polar regions can be freezingly unpleasant.  The route was taken to the more warm climbs.  Northfold City had been well left behind.  Village paths lead past the large lake that was the deepest of the three.  The human marched calmly on.  Feeling the warmth of the sun on a nice summer Verdaxian day.  Yet it was not the sun that emitted all the heat.  Air vents were dotted around the very distant Summit Volcano.  A bustling town was now on the route to the burning mountain.


Brad the human paused outside the market town centre.  He noticed the difference in a humoid.  Humoids of Verdax had no earlobes.  Both sexes had hairless bodies.  Some had six fingers.  Some had longer small fingers.  Some could only breath through the nose.  This was a bad thing for a cold.  Otherwise Brad could relax. 


Brad ate some berries off a bush.  A local spotted this and ushered him to the market.  ‘We can’t let you go hungry here,’ insisted the old man.  The outsider was welcomed at a local tavern.  A pint of stout was placed on an outside bench with a palm sized pork pie.  Brad stared heartily, he nonchalantly sat, smiled up at the friendly old folk.  Then tucked into the tasty gift.  Before he could speak, his eyes closed and would not open.


Events went fast in that place.  Brad awoke in a hot cave.  Two old men prodded him and a girl towards a fiery pit.  Brad had wondered why he had not seen many young people.  Most were sacrificed to the fire god.  The aging guards stood motionless for a few minutes.  Allowing Brad time to think.  The pretty girl cried and smiled at the same time, ‘do not worry mister, we can pray for a quick death.  And to meet up in heaven for saving our elders.’


The girl explained that one out of ten youngsters are chosen to please the god, every month.  The sacrifice of an outsider would surely help cool down the flaming god, Mothos.  She placed her slender hand with Brad.  The time was coming.  The girl praised the god, ‘Oh master be merciful.’

As the hundred old guards moved to push the younger couple into the lava stream below, the whole area seemed to stop in time.  Everyone but Brad were at a loss as what to do.


* * *



Jad Dormance shook inside his head.  Fear reached out and grabbed his mind.  The young warrior had never killed before.  Actually he had never done anything but train to fight and defend his watery home and the rest of the world.  It seemed to be nothing at first.  The five men found nothing to confront.  The lighthouse keeper directed them to the town, Westby.  Then the Mayor pointed to the sky and North.  The armed force looked north in vain.


It was Jad who noticed the blood on the ground.  The leader was shown the remains of humoid matter.  Two boys and a girl were found, not far away, nursing their cuts and bruises.  The trio recognised the ruling might of the Wetland Warriors.  The pretty girl explained all she could to Jad and his gang.  Captain Torit twitched his gills, that were below the ribcage, that were part of the fish like skin.  (Wetlanders never wore clothing as such.  They had no external organs.  The skin was one organ that was also used for reproduction.  That only happened to non warriors.  Unless a warrior retired early.  Then medics could reverse the birthing gene.)  This was followed by a grunt that told the others to head for Northfold.


In the main city of the world, it was the next day and news had spread about the bandit.  The Northfold Mall Police told the scary World Police, the Wetland Warriors, all that they knew about Drib the Scourge of the Skies.Jad huffed in his head at the lack of trouble.  He reasoned that it was no use to worry about killing anyone.  It took all day to get a bearing on where the wanted thief had gone.  A trail of purple vapour could only be seen by the extra lens of a warrior.  It ended at humoid footprints.  Heading inland towards the volcano.  This sent a new shudder of fear in the mind of Jad Dormance.




The village dwellers that served the god of Summit Volcano, gathered in the small market area.  Beggar looking locals knelt and praised their lord.  Vacant faces were of a simple people in a simple world.  Rarely had any seen outsiders.  The leader and elders had heard of the Wetland Warriors.  Yet no one ever expected them to visit the Highlands of Verdax.


The nightfall brought the chants and songs of Mothos.  It was signalled by flaming beacons and torch waving, that told the human sacrifices were due to be cast, into the burning peak.  A new light appeared from the west.  Hovering above trees and fields came five neon lights.  A humming tone emited from strange sky boards.  The beings stood in a posing stance.  As if running.  The high flying police descended into the village.


The Captain warrior insisted on knowing where Drib the thief was.  That he may be a newcomer.  The leader of the village threw a spear at Jad.  It smashed into a wall of nothing.  Then melted into nothing.  The ignorant knelt in fear.  All pointed to a beacon set into the volcano.  This was the moment, felt Jad.  His mind echoed ‘Cometh the Warriors’.


* * *



The pale humoid girl noticed that everything had stopped.  The thunderous roar of the volcano had gone.  The splatter of lava from deep below had ceased.  Everything had stopped.  All but human alien thing and herself.  This grey man had a huge egg over his torso.  It shimmered purple.  A ring on a hand illuminated among them both.  ‘What has happened?’  She pleaded for understanding.


Standing bound in thick rope beside her, was Drib the Scaronite.  An angry tone spoke, ‘This band can stop time.  I have used it to gain my goal.  And to flee from this ghastly experience.  I did not expect this to happen.  Not at all.’


‘What do you mean? What do you want? Why are you here?’

‘The energy from this mountain can enhance my shell many times.  Then I can become a new person.  My name is Brad.  And I long to return home to my world, Earth, a free and innocent man.’


Drib pointed the ring at raging lava.  A point in time seemed to open.  It allowed waves of energy to flow up his arm and into his shell.  The girl saw the rope shackles burn into dust.  Light beamed out of shells sides.  Like a tidal wave, the sound of time and space rushed, into life.  Then the echo of one huge, pop.



At the lip of the volcanic cave Drib and the girl walked past the guards that were ash remains.  Outside in the midnight sky hovered the Warriors of Wetland.  They blocked the way.  Captain Torit haled, ‘Come quietly, pirate.’


Instantly wings sprouted from the sides of a shell.  A hail of sea pebbles began to hit the alien and the girl.  Drib pulled the pretty humoid to his side.  She gasped when the pair were high off the rocky floor.  The racing orb flew to the summit of Summit Volcano.  The warriors raced after them.  At the highest point Drib paused.  Looking back, he smiled. 


A small egg shaped rock was pulled out of his shell pocket.  It grew to six foot tall.  The warriors saw the alien and the girl sit inside the space craft.  The air was getting thinner.  The warriors were on a plateau high among the stars.  A wave of moving stratosphere brought with it the burning weightlessness of space.


Jad felt the melting heat.  The warriors did have space technology.  That was back below in their base.  It was not deemed apt for this mission.  The warriors did form a forcefield to repel dark matter.  The five fishy men were hit by an invisible force.  Drib watched them fall off the flat edge of the high volcano, like a game of skittles.



Drib apologized to the nameless girl.  The pair froze within the spacepod.  Drib mentally wished to be home safe.  The super powered shell read his feelings.  A collidascope of light met the ring.  It washed away the couples minds.  A new day had been bourne.  It was the last day of Drib the Scourge of the Skies.  Never to be seen again.


* * *



Silence walked hand in hand with Hush.  Nice Town had a pretty avenue of shops.  One pink and blue sidewalk was beside a gay parade of windows.  The happy couple looked at the nice things.  One window displayed rings for loved ones.  The next pane garments and toys for new families. 


At the end of the row, one window was black.  Except for a full lengthed mirror.  The boy and girl stared hard at their reflections.  Deep inside their minds they saw something odd.  Another girl with a hand of six fingers.  Holding the alien/human grey digits.  The innocent faces were met by the realisation of Drib the Scaronite.


Silence was met by the sound of Hush.  Brad smiled at the starlit night.  Then he found in his pocket a tiny golden egg.  His mind told him,

‘Dreams made of this, can come true.’  The couple then walked on, deep into the night.








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