Perversion

This Science Fiction short story is a lead-up to the book titled, Onyalum Wars. The book is part of the Science Fiction Onyalum Series written by NB VanYoos.

Hammot waited patiently while the technicians completed their setup. They were not Acriend but one of the many slave species the Acriend had acquired over the millennia. They were weak but possessed a powerful intellect and ability to manage the enormous technological infrastructure the Acriend Armies needed to succeed. Their service was exemplary, but they would never participate in the fruits of their labors and would always be an enslaved species.

The Acriend were Hammot’s chosen people and he had gambled everything that he was that they could succeed where the others failed. Now however, the Trilliu were making a comeback with the introduction of the Hunters within the hive. They possessed keen intellect, moderate power, and definite speed and dexterity on the battlefield, a change that was claiming more and more Acriend worlds. As the leader of his Acriend, he had to make hard choices and force them into an evolutionary change that would be difficult at best, impossible at worst.

The Acriend were a merciless species on the battlefield, their power and fighting techniques legendary across many galaxies. He was proud of them and knew they could succeed in this ultimate battle between the gods. However they suffered from one peculiarity that might soon prove their downfall. For millennia this peculiarity had almost been an advantage as their unquenchable lust led them to conquer more and more worlds. But now, that lust was making them soft and they no longer yearned after new worlds and species to quench their thirst. It had bred complacency and laziness within their ranks.

He knew their perversions were a weakness over the long run as they prevented them from holding worlds as equals rather than as slave pools. The Acriend had been fighting for millennia and still possessed no ally. Hammot keenly watched the other galaxy where the Issgire and Leran waged a battle of who could recruit the greatest number of the local populace to fight their battles. The Acriend and the Trilliu would never survive against either of those armies if they did not embrace this new model of warfare. But his Acriend could never embrace it as long as their perversions controlled their interactions with other species. The Acriend had no respect for other species and treated them as nothing more than slaves or sexual toys to be discarded when they had served their limited purpose.

But today, Hammot would begin the transformation from a perverted race of animal warriors to a tempered, focused, elite force that was no longer a slave to hedonistic appetites. He had worked with a handpicked team of female Acriend and slave species to mold a new warrior. They had created an elite force of over twenty thousand Acriend that new nothing of their perverted cousins waging war throughout the galaxy. Since birth, these warriors had been raised in isolation from their brethren and taught self-restraint.

To satisfy their natural animal lust, they were rewarded sexual slaves, but the sexual acts they were permitted were more natural and non-violent. Many, as they matured, even elected to take on a permanent Acriend female as their mate, something their species had not seen in millions of years. But their most prized attribute was their self-restraint, and it was prized over all other diversions and redirected their sexual energy into fighting abilities twice that of an average Acriend warrior.

To hone these skills, actual Acriend warriors were brought to fight them. These fallen Acriend warriors had no idea what was going on but willingly waged battles to the death with these new warriors as they believed their misfortune was sport for their god. Thousands had been slaughtered as the new Acriend warriors proved more capable than their compatriots. Hammot saw a burgeoning higher class warrior forming and soon he would unleash them on the Trilliu and change the tide of the war. These twenty thousand warriors would operate independently from the rest of the Acriend Armies, and when their success became known throughout the Acriend Empire, he would be able to recruit the rest of the Acriend to this new philosophy.

It was a philosophy that placed him at the center of their lives. They were devout followers of their Creator, and he shared with them the secrets of how to secure a future of happiness and plenty both in this life and in the afterlife. This was a new concept for the Acriend, but so far his elite warriors had embraced it. With this devotion came prayer and meditation, a desire to better one’s self physically and mentally, and a newfound belief that they would inherit the Universe and rule side by side with their Creator.

He had cobbled together a collection of rituals and devotionals from a variety of species within his multitude of galaxies, blending the best of each one into a philosophy that his new Acriend could embrace and evolve with to become more than animals. Education beyond fighting techniques was emphasized as well as healthy mental activities, physical exercise, and respect for other species. Though slaves were still an integral part of their society, they were taught to respect their slaves and treat them well so they in turn would treat the Acriend well. It was a fine balance, but put within the context of their new philosophy, it worked.

A side benefit was more productive slaves who now enjoyed greater luxury than previous generations. Instead of the dank dungeons of old, these new slaves enjoyed familial dwellings where healthy families could grow and bring forth a more content generation that would further the army’s cause. It was truly the dawn of a new day for the Acriend species and Hammot believed it might be enough to take this war to his logical conclusion.

A technician signaled the system was ready for his use. He placed the microphone on his robe and walked out onto the balcony of the palace on his secret world of the new Acriend. Arrayed before him were his elite warriors clothed in uniforms, hair neat and groomed, standing at attention before their god. He raised his arms and lowered them to signal everyone to their knees with heads bowed.

“For too long my people have been lost in the wilderness, succumbing to their natural hungers without a care for what that was doing to their souls. They had no focus other than between their legs and they strayed from their roots in favor of this lust. You have brought those roots back to your species and you are embarking on a great quest to spread this newfound religion to your peers who are still lost. You understand how this lust makes you weaker and you have honed this natural source of energy into making yourself greater than any Acriend before you.”

“Our war still wages against the insect hoard that would destroy us all, but you will prevail against this plague and clear this galaxy of their presence forever. You will go forth and make allies to help us in our cause. They will fear us and not take up our battle standard easily, but you, my chosen ones, will show them the light and path to their own freedom from the alien hive taking over their galaxy. We have much work to do and much to show your lost brethren. Tomorrow your ships will take you on this quest, and the name of your god will resonate throughout the Universe through your actions.”

He paused as the crowd below chanted his name in reverence. He looked on proud as they focused their energies on the task before them. They were his finest creations and he would richly reward them when this contest was finally won.

“Through you, my will is done, and I will reward all those who choose the path of the righteousness. You can become more than you are and stand next to your god proud of all you have accomplished now and in the afterlife. You are my chosen people and I will support you as you support me. We can win this contest and you are the sword that will bring forth this victory.”

They chanted his name again, the sound booming off the walls of his palace, vibrating his chest. It was glorious and he drank it in, savoring the power and devotion of this new army.

“Stand my people and feel my blessing as your prepare for your journey.” He raised his arms and sent a wave of energy through his people, a wave of power that raised their hopes and aspirations as they basked in the glow of their god.

“Go forth and cleanse the galaxy, I shall join you before your first encounter.”

The crowd erupted in an applause that shook the core of the planet as he waved one last time before turning back to his palace. Beware Hunters, my followers have been unleashed. He thought coldly.

The Mission

This Science Fiction short story is a lead-up to the book titled, Onyalum Wars. The book is part of the Science Fiction Onyalum Series written by NB VanYoos.

NSOIM Transmission Log

ID: 22789              Time: 27.39.101 Date: 44.08.4201

From: Arabata Deep Space Command

To: NSOIM Craft 17, Quadrant 21 Asteroid Belt

Ref: Unidentified Infrared Anomaly

Eyes Only: Captain Frenz, Commander Litx, Science Team Leader Harbt

At 25.01.044 today, deep space infrared telescope, Atan Observatory 3, reported anomalous infrared object occultation by Asteroid 65320 in Quadrant 19. Preliminary analysis indicates object 2 orders of magnitude brighter than surrounding environment in infrared (image and data attached).

Best recommendation is to proceed to Quadrant 19 for further study. Preliminary consensus analyses believe object could be unknown comet approaching from outer solar cloud or highly radioactive asteroid composition not yet seen due to occultation by larger asteroid in foreground. If latter, gravitational perturbation by gas giant may have temporarily shifted object into view.

Current scans indicate object once again masked by foreground asteroid. Require distance scans in far solar sector to eliminate or confirm comet. If eliminated, orbital insertion around Asteroid 65320 needed for advanced analyses of companion object. Core samples a top priority if object scans radioactive.

Orbital observatories currently operating high priority scans and cannot be redeployed for 10 days. Mission objectives include anomalous investigations. Order 22789 supersedes current mission. Established mission protocols still in effect.

∫∫

Captain Frenz cleared the message from his screen while Science Officer Harbt waited patiently. The Captain’s quarters were grand by spaceship standards, but the closeness of the Science Officer left him irritated. Clearly they had been on this mission for too long. He yearned for oceans, fresh air, walks along the beach, and sunshine. They were a long way from the second planet from the sun and still had much yet to do.

This was Captain Frenz’s second mission in ten years, and he was nearing retirement when he could pursue his sport fishing hobby off the coast of Lao with sons and grandsons. After thirty-five years serving his country’s military and space exploration services, he was ready to settle down into a more normal life, albeit less exciting.

“Okay, I assume you have finished the deep solar survey and no comet was located at or near the position command sent us.” The Captain concluded.

Officer Harbt hesitated as if confused by the questions. “Yes and no.” He began. “We did detect a new comet in that sector, but the size, distance, and infrared magnitude don’t match the anomaly detected. Also, its current position would place it in clear view from our planet.”

“So it moved out from behind the asteroid since the original scan.” The Captain said.

“I don’t believe so. The scale of the comet simply does not match, or come close, to the object detected by command.” The officer replied. “We barely detected it and we are a third the distance to it than command. I can definitively conclude it is not the anomalous object.”

Great, Captain Frenz thought silently. They were one year into their two year mission and this new wrinkle would extend their completion time. It would mean more money for all on board, but was a poor substitute for the sunshine and fresh air of their home planet. The one thing about space you never adjusted to was the coldness. It seeped into your bones and no amount of artificial sunlight could thaw it.

He touched his control screen and brought the bridge into view. “Commander Litx, please set a course for Quadrant 19 at delta point-two-five velocity. Begin plot of orbital insertion around Asteroid 65320 at distance…” He hesitated as he looked to his science officer.

“I’ll come help you with the calculations—this asteroid is less than spherical and porous.” Officer Harbt stated.

“Did you get that, Commander?” The captain finished.

“Yes, sir. Do you want me to log this as acting bridge officer?”

“No, I’ll take care of it, Captain out.” He turned to Officer Harbt. “I don’t want us too close to this thing.”

“I shouldn’t think it poses a risk to this ship or crew, Captain.” The officer said.

“You’re not paid to think about that, I am.” The captain said. “I want our orbit barely within the gravitational well of that asteroid, and I want a plotted escape vector updated hourly should we need to leave the vicinity quickly.”

“Sir, that seems a bit excessive considering my team will be busy analyzing the anomaly even before we insert. I believe we will be able to rule out a threat long before we arrive.” The officer retorted.

“Famous last words.” The captain said darkly. “If your crew can’t handle the additional load, then I suggest you do it. Dismissed.”

The science officer hesitated as he was about to respond, but finally left for the bridge with a scowl on his face. After the door to his quarters closed, Captain Frenz stared across the room at the picture of his prize catch landed just before departing on this mission. An overwhelming sense of foreboding told him he would never catch another. He shook himself to warm up. Clearly his military background was turning him skittish.

∫∫

Captain Frenz entered the bridge to a flurry of activity and chaos. Everyone ignored him as they stared frantically at their consoles and the main screen filled with static. He calmly took his seat and waited until everyone noticed him and began calming down. It took a few minutes, but Commander Litx finally came to his senses and called everyone to order.

In the silence, the captain surveyed his crew and saw concern written on most of their faces. Something was wrong and they were scared. “Alright, what is the status, Commander?” He said forcefully as several were about to respond.

Commander Litx turned clinical as he reported. “Sir, we are still two days out from orbital insertion and have suddenly run into interference with our scanners. As you can see on the main viewer, we have lost visual reception although we believe the problem is the data feed back to us rather than the scanner itself.” He said. “We are looking into equipment problems, but we also have rather disastrous readings from the x-ray, gamma-ray, infrared, and ultra-violet sensors as well. We have even lost our communications tether with command.”

“So a shipwide breakdown of computer systems or networking?” The captain asked.

“Maybe, Captain, but we also discovered something curious.” The commander replied.

“Such as?” The captain said.

The commander nodded to Officer Harbt who brought the captain his ComPad. The captain took the device and stared at a grainy picture of an asteroid and colorful spikes radiating from it. “And this is what?”

Officer Harbt jumped in. “This was a scan of our target asteroid before communications and sensors went amok.”

“So there is something radiating behind the asteroid.” The captain said. “Command’s anomaly exists?”

“Yes, but that isn’t the curious thing we found.” Officer Harbt said guardedly.

“Continue.” The captain said quietly, tired of this being drawn out.

“This image is not in the infrared spectrum…” The officer began before being interrupted by the Commander.

“Sir, those are radio waves emanating from the anomaly!”

The captain’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Random?” He asked.

The Commander looked around the room nervously before answering. “No.”

Captain Frenz eyed Officer Harbt knowingly before barking orders. “I want everyone on these ship wide problems so we can fix them. I want a new trajectory that will take us far afield the backside of this asteroid so we can see what this thing is.” He stared at Officer Harbt. “I don’t want us within a million kilometers of this thing. Understood?”

Everyone nodded before turning away to begin working the system problems. He nodded towards the door as he signaled Commander Litx. They were silent down the corridor until they were inside the captain’s quarters far from prying ears.

“What did they teach us at the academy, Commander?” The captain asked as he worked his glitchy console.

The commander responded crisply. “Based on current probabilities, anything emitting a patterned radio signal without repetition has an eighty-seven percent likelihood of constituting intelligent life.”

The captain eyed him with concern. “Was there repetition, Commander?”

“No, sir.” The commander replied. “From my vantage, these were not natural emanations.”

The captain nodded as his console finally came into focus. “We have a protocol for this.”

He quickly scanned the protocol before letting his first officer look at it. When both were finished they stared at each other grimly. “Okay, not the welcoming committee I was expecting.”

“You really believe any civilization able to reach us must be hostile?” The commander asked incredulous.

“Look what they already did to our ship.” The captain replied.

“But they could be trying to communicate with us.” The commander insisted. “Until we understand what or who it is, I can’t believe we should assume it is hostile.”

“Why not?” The captain countered.

“I don’t know, I suppose I imagine a ship full of scientists doing what we are, just on a grander scale.” The commander concluded. “Surely you don’t travel hundreds of light years just to fight.”

“You might if you believed you could easily win that fight.” The captain replied.

“But why?” The commander said. “What would they gain from killing us?”

The captain spread his arms wide and looked at the ceiling. “This. We ourselves are out here surveying this asteroid system for the very raw materials our world needs. Suppose they are traveling through the cosmos and need to stop and replenish periodically. What better place than an asteroid belt.”

“But that doesn’t make them a threat.” The commander said.

“It does if they wish to stop for a while. Why stay out here in the cold when a habitable planet waits where you can rest and replenish. Our world!” The captain emphasized.

The commander nodded. “Okay, what do we do until we contact command?”

The captain nodded, pleased his first officer was ready to move. “First, and most important, we don’t talk about this protocol with anyone else in the crew. Second, we get our ship back in order. Once that is done, we contact command and continue our mission, although from a safer vantage point. Lastly, we analyze this signal and look for telltale signs of any attempt at communications.”

∫∫

The last forty hours had come and gone far too fast, but progress had been made. The captain walked quietly to the bridge waiting for the good news his first officer had promised over the comm. He hoped they had figured out a way to contact command. Their home world needed to know there was an alien presence within their solar space. Hostile or not, it represented an unprecedented discovery of incredible magnitude dwarfing all others to date.

The question had been answered, they were not alone. The new question was, were they friendly? He entered the bridge and took note of the viewer with a clear picture of the distant asteroid. No object could be seen.

“Is this the good news?” The captain asked as he pointed at the screen. “I don’t see anything.”

“We think the object won’t be in view for another couple hours.” The commander reported. “But as you can see, we have isolated its signal and have filtered it out within the network before our computers crunch it. We have all sensors back online and they are reporting a multitude of anomalous readings.”

Officer Harbt walked forward before signaling one of his team members. The main viewer changed to a fuzzy picture of the asteroid with rays emanating from the top and bottom of it. “These are x-ray beams emanating from the object from behind the asteroid.” He signaled again and the picture changed once more. This one was even grainier but more colorful. “This is in the infrared similar to command’s but without the object visible. Notice the heat signature. Whatever it is, it is emanating a large amount of heat into the surrounding space.”

“Anything natural explain this?” The captain asked.

“Not that we know at this point.” Officer Harbt replied. “Could be an as yet unknown radioactive process considering the wide spectrum it is releasing.”

The captain turned to the rest of the crew. “Great job getting our ship back up and running properly. Communications?” He asked.

Commander Litx bowed his head. “Everything is working, but the strength of radiation at this distance easily overwhelms our small transmitting capacity. Our signal would be lost in the noise.”

“But command would hear the noise?” The captain asked hopefully.

“Yes.” The commander replied.

“Excellent, I want you and the science team to figure out a way we can embed our signal into the noise. One way or another, we need to communicate everything to command.” He stood up. “Contact me when we have a visual on the object.”

∫∫

Captain Frenz woke from a restless nap as someone rapped lightly on his door. “Come in.” He said groggily.

Commander Litx and Officer Harbt entered. Commander Litx took charge. “Sir, we have ruled out a communication attempt from the signals emanating from the anomaly.” Officer Harbt nodded in agreement.

The captain spoke to Harbt directly. “The commander appraised you of the protocol?”

Officer Harbt nodded. “I had my own suspicions that I shared with the commander and he told me what you two had discussed.”

“Sorry we couldn’t bring you in earlier, but protocol dictated this was a military matter, therefore only command staff were to be alerted.” The captain said.

“I am science team leader.” Officer Harbt said, perturbed.

“Noted.” The captain dismissed. “What has the science team come up with for our communications?”

Commander Litx took control. “We believe we can embed our signal on their noise such that command could theoretically interpret it. We can embed an identifier so they know it is us.”

“Great news, how soon?” The captain asked.

Officer Harbt interjected. “A few hours to reconfigure the transmitter, but there is a problem.” He said.

“What is it?” The captain waited patiently.

“The power we will need to make the signal match the strength of the anomalies will quickly burn out our transmitter.” He said with concern. “We would be without communications permanently.”

“We already are.” The captain said seriously. “Based on protocol, contacting command is our number one priority, whatever the cost.”

“But captain, we don’t even know what this is yet.” Officer Harbt argued. “This may be nothing and I don’t think jeopardizing our mission for protocol over nothing is warranted, regardless if this is an alien entity.”

“You don’t?” The captain said sarcastically. “We have already had our ship wide systems interrupted, you confirm to me the signal is not an attempt to communicate, the object just happens to be hiding behind one of the largest asteroids in the belt, and you think it is nothing?” He paused. “Clearly our backgrounds prevent us from seeing this in the same light.”

“Maybe, Captain, but I don’t think destroying valuable equipment is warranted in this situation.” Officer Harbt said firmly.

The captain sighed. “Noted, Officer Harbt. Commander, begin the reconfiguration of the transmitter and let me know when it is ready.” The commander nodded. “Okay, is the object in view yet?”

Officer Harbt nodded. “Yes, Captain, we are already analyzing the readings from it.”

“And?” The captain asked.

Officer Harbt continued. “Nothing definitive yet, we are still too far from it. However, it is a quarter the size of Asteroid 65320, emanates heat, x-rays, and what looks like a neutron beam.” He stopped without embellishing.

“And what could produce such a thing?” The captain pushed.

Commander Litx interjected. “I believe it is a power source, Captain!”

“A power source?” The captain said as he stared coldly at the science officer.

“That is pure speculation, Captain, but yes, we do know fusion reactors would produce such a thing.” He begrudgingly admitted.

“And you think this is nothing?” The captain asked.

∫∫

Captain Frenz entered the bridge and stared at the impossible on the main viewer. Half the view was dominated by the dusty gray Asteroid 65320 showing little of interest. The other half was an occulted view of their anomaly. His first impression was it couldn’t be natural. It looked like a stack of concentric rings tapered at the top widening at the bottom. The color was gray like the asteroid, but it almost appeared polished as the feeble sunlight reflected off the top of the object.

The bottom, however, was another matter entirely. It was hewn from solid rock as if the object had grown from an asteroid and been ripped from it violently. The jagged edges jutted out from the fat bottom like a broken bottle, and its decidedly dark and rough exterior clashed with that of the upper portion. It belied an unbelievable advancement in spaceship design. They were far more advanced.

The captain eyed Officer Harbt darkly. “Well?” He asked sardonically.

“Okay, Captain, it appears this is a very advanced spaceship of clearly alien origin.” Officer Harbt replied.

The captain sighed. “Give me all the details you have so far.”

Commander Litx interjected. “Object is approximately twelve kilometers long, four kilometers in diameter, partially composed of iron and granitic rock and partially composed of an unknown, polished metallic substance. High reflectivity from upper portion confirms metallic structure. No opening in object obvious from current readings, but, as already noted, emitting high energy readings across the entire spectrum.”

Officer Harbt nodded in agreement. “There hasn’t been any changes in its output since coming out from behind the asteroid.”

The captain slowly nodded as he stared at the dark object dominating the screen. What were they doing here? How long had they been here, and what did they want? Questions he feared they would never answer. Any civilization that could create such a monstrosity, fly it across the galaxy, and park it behind a large asteroid like this clearly possessed more knowledge of physics and engineering than their world. Regardless of its intentions, it posed a threat. Obviously their leaders had foreseen this and thus why the protocol for such an event was created.

“How close will we pass by it, Officer Harbt?” The captain asked.

“Based on our current trajectory, about two million kilometers.” Officer Harbt replied.

The captain turned to Commander Litx. “Communications?”

“We are nearly done with our reconfiguration, but we still need a message to send. We won’t have much time before the system burns out.” The commander replied.

The captain nodded. “Very well, meet me in my quarters so we can draft the message. Officer Harbt, I want our pass by this object doubled and I need a planetary return trajectory plotted based on using the remaining fuel we have. Our mission is over and we must find a way to get home quickly.”

“But, Captain, we don’t even know if there is anyone alive on this thing.” Officer Harbt argued. “We can’t just leave before completing a more rigorous investigation.”

“We can’t?” The captain said. “You know what protocol stipulates, let them send some other ship to investigate. We are neither equipped, knowledgeable, nor prepared for this type of investigation, Officer Harbt, and I won’t jeopardize this ship on your hunch this is not a threat.” He stopped and eyed the anxious faces of the crew before stepping down his rhetoric. “Look, I understand this is the science discovery of the millennia, but we are not capable of performing the initial steps required for first contact. We must return, report our findings, such that they are, and let the powers back home decide the next course of action.” He quieted down and grew more regimented. “Please calculate the new trajectory and report to me when you are done.”

He signaled to Commander Litx and left the bridge. They were quiet as they marched to his quarters. Once inside, the captain spoke rapidly. “I realize Officer Harbt is simply doing what a Science Team Leader should do, but this is far too monstrous for us to handle in this tiny science ship with no weapons, no shuttle, and soon, no form of communications. Our only hope is to floor it back home and let others decide.”

Commander Litx agreed. “He misses the bigger picture when confronted with the fantastical science this object represents. Maybe he is right, maybe this has been here a long time and there isn’t anyone left alive, but it feels tactical to me. Hiding behind a large asteroid doesn’t scream friendly.”

“Exactly.” The captain said. “What chance would we have against something like that? Okay, about our message to command. How much time will we have to broadcast before our equipment fails?”

“Hard to say.” The commander replied. “But my gut says maybe a couple hours.”

“I’m going to assume less than that.” The captain said as he began typing on his console. “Send this.”

The commander eyed the short message and nodded solemnly. “I’ll make sure it is repeated with our identification over and over until our transmitter fails, Captain.”

∫∫

The Captain sat quietly on the bridge as the crew continued executing their escape plan. Based on current levels of fuel, they could slingshot past the third planet and rendezvous with their home planet in less than a month. It would be a long and lonely month as communications with their home world wouldn’t exist. He already had Officer Harbt working on some other non-traditional form of communications.

The object dominated the viewer and looked as lifeless as always. They had been transmitting the message embedded in the alien interference for about a half hour, but they would never know whether command deciphered it unless they found another way to communicate. It was a risk, but all his experience told him the risk was worth the cost. If they were lost, their planet had to know what was out here.

Flashing lights an annoying buzz interrupted his thoughts. He looked over at the crew member whose console was lit up like a dance floor. “What is it now, Lant?” He asked.

“Sir, every emission spectrum just went off the chart from that thing!” Lant said excitedly.

The captain eyed Officer Harbt who moved next to Lant and began reading the data. “He is right, Captain, radio, x-ray, infrared, everything has doubled in intensity from our baseline readings.”

“Theories?” The captain asked hopefully, but Officer Harbt shook his head.

Lant looked between them nervously and the captain noticed his discomfort. “What is it, Lant?”

“Well, sir, it looks to me like it is powering up.” He said sheepishly.

Here we go. The captain thought darkly. “Is it moving?” He asked.

Both Lant and Harbt turned back to the equipment and the wait was long and excruciating. Finally, Officer Harbt turned back to the captain. “We believe it is, Captain.”

Damn it, he’d never catch another fish. Everything he had feared was playing out just like protocol indicated. The alien ship was moving because they had detected his pathetic attempt to communicate with command, and he had no illusions about what they intended to do.

“Commander Litx, I want every ounce of power we have at our disposal to move this ship faster.” He said quietly.

“Yes, sir.” The commander replied. “But, sir, our ion propulsion won’t be able to accelerate us fast enough to elude something like that. As it is, we won’t even increase our velocity ten percent for another two days. This ship just isn’t built for that type of maneuver.”

The captain nodded. “I understand, Commander, but I want everything firing to make this ship go faster. Use our maneuvering jets, anything!”

The commander nodded and began getting the crew moving on the orders.

“Is our message still being broadcast?” The captain asked nervously as he began to discern movement of the larger ship on their viewer.

Commander Litx replied. “Yes, but power output is beginning to fluctuate. It won’t be working for much longer.”

As if being chased by some large predator, their tiny ship tried to move beyond its design range, but the monstrous alien vessel was gaining ground. They weren’t going to make it.

“Sir, something is happening.” Another crewman said with fear in his voice.

“What is it?” The captain asked.

“We are seeing a flurry of infrared radiation coming from the central section where the upper part merges with the rock.” The crewman responded.

“Put it on the main viewer.” The captain ordered.

The viewer went blank for a moment before another view of the alien vessel appeared in infrared colored images. As the crewman had said, a hundred brighter dots appeared to emanate from the central part of the ship. It was like a swarm of insects leaving the nest.

“Not sure what they are, Captain.” The crewman said hopelessly.

The captain knew what they were, and he braced himself as he prepared to inform the crew. “I am afraid those are smaller ships sent to intercept us.”

“But there are hundreds of them, Captain?” The crewman said in disbelief.

The size of the force being sent after them was both overwhelming and unjustified. The intent was clear. Overpower your enemy with superior force to establish the tone of the engagement early on. His academy training came back to haunt him. “They want to make sure the job is done right.” The captain said with finality.

∫∫

Shindi Rasses had been working for over four days straight trying to unravel the mystery of the radio noise coming from quadrant 19 after the communications disconnect from NSOIM Craft 17. They had been investigating the anomaly near an asteroid in that quadrant before all the noise began and communications ceased.

He had tried every single filter he could think of to eliminate the noise from their standard communications frequencies, but to no avail. After so many failed attempts he had almost given up when an idea struck him. What if the noise was the signal?

He searched every one of the thousands of frequencies representing the noise to see if any patterns emerged from the background. But everything was random, no patterns distinguishable. His final scan was nearly complete when his computer gave a mournful beep. He put down his astronomy magazine and looked over the noisy chart the computer displayed. At first he didn’t see any patterns until he zoomed in closer. There wasn’t just a pattern, it was a digital pattern.

He began to decipher the digital elements, but it was jumbled and not every symbol could be deciphered. After about an hour, he had as much as he could pull out of the noise. He confirmed the initial sequence was an identifier for their missing craft, but then the signal was crushed again. It picked up again later, with only part of the identifier and a single word. Again, it disappeared before another word was extracted.

He jotted all three on paper and ran back to the command center. He didn’t observe protocol as he burst into a command meeting discussing the reallocation of orbital observatory assets to investigate the anomaly and disappearance of their ship.

“Sir, I have something!” He blurted out as everyone turned to him in surprise.

“What is it, son?” General Pantin asked calmly.

Shindi handed the paper over to the general before explaining. “This was embedded in the noise coming from quadrant 19, sir.”

The general read the three items carefully before staring down the brash young man who had given it to him. “Are you sure about this?” He asked.

“The signal was weak, hard to find and degraded, but yes, I am sure about this.” Shindi replied.

The general turned to the rest of the command staff waiting patiently. The look of concern on his face was not lost on the others. “The signal starts with an identifier that could only be NSOIM Craft 17” The general began. “After that, there are only two words: alien invasion.”

The Contest

This Science Fiction short story is a lead-up to the book titled, Onyalum Wars. The book is part of the Science Fiction Onyalum Series written by NB VanYoos.

The boy attendant finished the application of oil and stood back as Piaq rose from the wood bench to stretch. He wore the ceremonial fighting garb of the arena: a tightly cinched leather belt, a protective metal cup protecting the genitals, cloth wraps around ankles and wrists, and a metallic helmet with only eyes and mouth exposed. The helmet was forged using his head as a mold and fit as though part of his body.

He eyed the oil application and approved. All exposed skin had been treated, denying the opponent a firm grasp of anything but the accoutrements required by arena rules. He flexed his enormous muscles and smiled at the beautiful physique displayed in the mirror. His three meter frame hung thick with muscles wrapped in smooth dark brown skin devoid of hair. Were his face visible, its chiseled lines told a story of endless fights, each scar representing a victory. But golden eyes peered from behind the mask, the reptilian pupils narrowed as he focused on the contest ahead. He was a professional combatant, and one of the best his world had created.

By most galactic standards, Piaq’s world was primitive, a world barren of technology and the ability to travel into the stars. That didn’t halt their evolution, but enhanced the more barbaric aspects of it. They were fighters and had perfected war across millennia of contests as each race vied for world domination. Even today, battles were fought along neighboring borders, each willing to spend whatever lives it took to protect their plot of land. The battles were violent and bloody.

Piaq’s race was known as the Acagandi, an established race that had maintained their lands for thousands of years. The contests within the arena were a testament to their warring people’s desire to be the best fighting force on the planet, and Piaq was the best of their best. He feared no opponent and believed even if he fell he would be richly rewarded in the afterlife for his fierce skills as a warrior. He spent many hours fighting in the arena after a successful career in the military.

But today, the contest before a hundred thousand of his countrymen held an even larger role than mere sport or display of combat readiness. It was a message to the invaders that this world was prepared to defend themselves against any and all aggressors. He turned from the mirror and began the long walk down the corridor to the arena’s grand entrance. Already the sound of the anxious crowds vibrated through the very walls of his cathedral of death.

The invaders had arrived in a massive flying craft and made the mistake of landing in Piaq’s country. The brutish monsters covered in thick, long hair, wearing ridiculous penis sheaths to protect their monstrous genitalia, established a heavily defended perimeter around their craft, establishing a beachhead without as much as a hello. Their arrogance and their technology were no match for the power of the defending army.

Within days of their arrival, their craft was destroyed in a spectacular barrage of fifty ton boulders hurled from kilometers away with the precision of the most advanced artillery. Everything the Acagandi war machine had at its disposal was thrown at the beasts who valiantly hunkered down as their ship was wiped from the surface of the planet. But they were destined to lose against the vast army of the Acagandi.

In battle, the hairy monsters were formidable. Substantially larger than Piaq’s people, their muscular physiques hiding beneath their hair were a reality many were not ready for when the first wave of infantry assaulted their encampment. The losses in the Acagandi army were staggering as the beast’s technology felled half in blazes of lightning that burned like fire from the gods. But the Acagandi did not stop as wave after wave of soldiers were thrown against the deadly monsters.

When their modern weapons finally failed them, the monsters met the onslaught with primitive weapons forged from metallic alloys never seen before. The melee lasted three days, and in the end, the monsters lost all their invading force but twenty-three soldiers now captive in the arena. They would be sport for the people, a humiliation to hurt them deeply.

But Piaq remained humble before this opponent. The beasts had slain over four thousand of the best Acagandi military men to their thousand. Had they not possessed such fiery weapons, that number would have been substantially lower. Nonetheless, they were no easy match, and Piaq would need every ounce of his vast experience to win the day. Clearly the brutes were also a warring race and expected to win every contest. It spoke volumes about their previous conquests. But today, those victorious triumphs of the past would fall at the hands of primitives.

Piaq listened from behind large doors as his past victories were announced to the crowd. In response, the crowd bellowed with a thunderous applause that shook the very ground beneath his feet. This brought his senses to full alert as he placed his mind in battle mode. The large doors swung open and he walked proudly onto the field of battle as the crowd rose to their feet and barked for his victory. He raised his right arm in a salute to his fans, and the crowd honored this salute with a booming chant of his name.

“Pi-aach, Pi-aach, Pi-aach, Pi-aach…”

His arms came down and the crowd grew hushed as the opponent was raised into position. Boos and hisses accompanied the brute as the platform stopped at ground level of the arena. The charcoal eyes peered intently at Piaq, the grotesque expression belying nothing of its thoughts. The beast knew what was happening and measured its opponent.

Though speaking with the invaders had proven nearly impossible, they had worked out that this was the highest ranking member that had survived. He was very tall, spanning at least one more meter above Piaq’s formidable frame. He looked lean compared to the others caged below, but that might make him more deadly. Sometimes weight was not an advantage in this style of fighting. His larger size would only prove useful if it came down to hand-to-hand combat, a common outcome.

The arena was a large, open aired oval constructed of enormous granite blocks rising hundreds of feet above the floor. It held over a hundred thousand spectators, and everyone from the capital city that could afford tickets was there to watch the event of a lifetime. At either ends of the arena, large doors led onto the arena floor beneath massive carved statues of the patron gods of war. The floor of the arena was coarse sand not easily compacted. This gave uneven footing, but allowed for deft moves and twists for those who understood how to fight on it. The rules were simple, use anything on the arena floor to kill your opponent.

Throughout the battle, an array of various weapons would be presented to each combatant. It usually started with staffs of hard woods and metallic spearheads. From there, it moved onto large clubbing weapons spiked with protrusions for maximum damage. If combatants survived those first two rounds, an array of sharp knives, swords and axes would be presented. At that point, both combatants would be too tired to wield them effectively. Finally, should each be unable to heft the metallic weapons, hand-to-hand combat would decide the contest.

Piaq had taken many battles to the end, a glorious show for the spectators. However, as he watched his opponent carefully, he decided early victory would be preferable. Still, he had a few tricks up his sleeve to make the contest interesting for the crowd. Unlike other arenas around the world, the Acagandi were proud they ran a clean contest. No drugging of opponents, weakening of weapons, or hobbling the captives was allowed. It was a fair fight to the death, and the Acagandi fighters didn’t always win. One of the champions within the arena was not even Acagandi, but a captive from a border battle with a neighboring country. Piaq had not yet faced him.

The crowd roared as the first set of weapons was raised into position next to each combatant. Piaq chose his two favorites, a short handled staff and a long spear. The brute eyed the weapons rack and finally settled on a long staff sharpened at both ends. In his hairy hands, the weapon looked useless, but Piaq knew he would only choose that with which he was adept. Both now properly equipped, they moved into the center of the arena to begin the contest.

Piaq watched the monster’s movements closely as he circled in towards him. The beast looked slow and lumbering, an illusion no doubt enhanced by the sand shuffling into large piles at the monster’s feet. He was purposely dragging his feet to feign helplessness. As they inched closer to each other, Piaq kept his eyes on the tip of the staff that would signal the opponent’s intentions. He held his spear entwined in his left arm like an extension and held the short staff like a shield. Block with the staff, attack with the spear. It was classic fighting, but Piaq had a twist.

They were close enough that Piaq could smell the stink of the beast. Its hair was matted in spots and its penile sheath tattered and worn from many battles. Pieces of food clung to the thick coat of hair, and the beast’s dark face held black eyes of hidden fury. Still it dragged its feet as it lumbered to meet its opponent. Both danced slowly around, each waiting for the other to make a move. Piaq could not wait any further as the crowd booed the lack of action and he moved in with his spear tip.

As expected, the beast parried the thrust with its staff, and then kicked up a large pile of the sand into Piaq’s eyes, temporarily blinding him. He ducked and rolled as he sensed the beast attacking in the confusion and barely saved his hide as the sharp tip of the staff tore into his left side. Within seconds he was back on his feet as the beast flew through the air for another attack. He dodged right and thrust with his spear, the tip catching the beast’s leg, tearing into the tough leathery flesh. Both had drawn blood.

They backed away, each assessing the other’s dripping wounds. Piaq knew his was superficial, and the roll in the sand was helping to stem the loss of blood. The beast’s fur was stained red, but otherwise it appeared unharmed. Piaq chastised himself for the lack of forethought, and realized his foe would use any and all tactics to win. Fine, Piaq knew how to fight that way, too.

The beast circled in again, piling sand against its dragging feet. Even though it had already used that trick, it could still be effective. Piaq decided to the attack root cause of the problem. He charged in with a leap and pressed his spear forward before bringing his right arm around with the short staff aimed at the monster’s head. The monster reacted to block the head shot, allowing Piaq to pierce the beast’s right foot with his spear tip.

He fell to the ground and rolled, the action ripping the spear through the foot of the monster, the beast roared in pain and anger. The crowd shouted its approval, but Piaq wasn’t yet done. He charged once more, but switched the spear to his fighting hand, a final twist in this round of fighting. With a deft motion, he weaved his spear around the blocking staff and caught the beast squarely on the left side of its face. The gash spewed blood while bits of flesh hung in tatters from the wound.

Coming back to his feet, Piaq threw the spear directly at the beast. The monster blocked it with a violent slash of its staff, and the spear exploded into shards of kindling while the sharp tip was knocked uselessly to the ground several meters away. The crowd booed noisily, and Piaq ran to the nearest weapons rack to re-equip. As he grabbed another spear and ran back to his opponent, the beast picked up the spear tip and through it like a missile into the booing throng. Piaq watched as a spectator caught the tip in the head. The fan fell to the ground limp.

The beast roared in victory and turned back to Piaq. Just then, the new weapons racks were raised into position. Piaq discarded the spear and staff, selecting an arm held battering ram and large mace. The battering ram would provide a shield while the mace would be used for attacking. He knew this round would be the most difficult as the beast’s strength would be a factor in its favor. He watched his opponent choose a spiked club and the smallest mace in the arsenal. Piaq puzzled over the choice.

They moved towards each other again, the crowd chanting his name, their excitement building his resolve to end this in this round. The beast moved in first, pivoting on its feet to build momentum in the club head. The swirling spiked club came close to catching Piaq in the mid-section, but a quick parry with his battering ram pushed it aside as the monster’s hand came round with the small mace catching Piaq’s mace head on, forcing his own weapon into the left side of his helmet. The blow stunned Piaq and he staggered backwards as the world swam.

The beast used this to his advantage and pressed another charge with the club. Piaq, though stunned, saw the attack and fell in a pivot to his right knee, blocking the club with his battering ram, sending the beast to the ground in a splash of sand. He stood up and wobbled slightly as his head began to clear, but the beast was back in action just as quickly, forcing its club downward onto the battering ram of Piaq, the blow forced him back to his knees as the mace came around for attack. This time, he was able to deflect it enough so that it only caught his helmet with half the force. In a brilliant transfer of his weight, he slid beneath the beasts legs, grabbing the penis sheath as he dropped his mace. The beast roared in agony as he pulled hard on the genitalia before regaining his feet. Two can play dirty.

The beast spun around dropping its mace as it held its crotch in pain. Piaq attacked. He met the other’s club with his battering ram before spinning and ramming the beast in the mid-section. This exposed his back and the beast caught it with the spiked club as it fell to the ground. Pain shot through Piaq as several spikes dug into his flesh, ripping across his back.

He ignored the pain and flung the battering ram at his fallen opponent. The beast blocked the battering ram with its arm, but the sound of breaking bones was audible above the din of the crowd. The noise in the arena erupted in volumes that nearly deafened Piaq as he slowly made his way to the weapons rack. As he arrived, another round of weapons sprang from below. Finally, sharp knives and swords.

Piaq favored the smaller blades as they were easier to handle after so much fighting. He was very tired and the wounds to his side and back were beginning to register in his mind. He pushed the pain aside and move towards his enemy once more. He could not let it get to hand-to-hand combat as he realized the beast would annihilate him.

Despite its injuries, the beast stood up and made its way to the weapons rack. It, too, favored the smaller blades. Piaq knew each of the beastly captives had been equipped with a blade of their own choosing, so he would have to be smart in this contest. They carried those blades for killing, not ceremony. They circled once more, and Piaq watched for signs of weakness. If the broken bones in the beast’s arm were hurting, you couldn’t tell by how it held the large knife at the ready. However, Piaq knew that arm would not be as effective.

He attacked the other arm and his blade met the other in a shower of sparks. The beast tried to bring the other blade up under in a thrust designed to gut Piaq, but the broken bones made it impossible to move fast and Piaq parried the thrust, slicing down the length of the blade to cut the beast’s hand. Slowly, he was destroying the beast’s left arm. They both moved back and Piaq eyed the blood oozing from the wound across the beast’s blade. Its arm was held low as the damage took its toll.

They circled again, and the monster attacked with its good arm in a deft move to catch Piaq’s left arm exposed. He parried that thrust with his own blade, both cutting into each other’s arms as they slid down the shaft. Piaq jumped back in pain and the beast pressed the attack aiming for his outstretched leg. The blade sunk deep into Piaq’s calf and he screamed in pain as he launched one of his blades at the other’s injured arm. His blade sunk deep and both rolled away from each other in a spray of red sand.

Neither moved as they eyed each other from their positions on the ground. The beast finally sat up and pulled the blade from its left arm slowly. It staggered to its feet and flung the blade into the crowd, this time failing to land a deadly blow. The crowd booed and the monster roared in what could have been called a grotesque form of laughter. Before recovering one of its weapons, it disconnected its penis sheath and began swaying back and forth as the grotesque member swung methodically from side to side. Its left arm now hung useless at its side.

The perverted scene was enough to enrage Piaq as he understood what these beasts used their mammoth genitalia for. They were weapons of another kind, a way to humiliate their opponents once defeated. He was taunting Piaq, promising another type of pain should the beast win the contest. Piaq collected his senses and rose from the ground before this disgusting display. He slowly pulled the helmet from his head and the crowd crowed in pleasure as their champion prepared for the final onslaught.

He limped towards the beastly visage, his leg protesting every step as warm blood ran down to his foot. He had to win this-he had to defeat this grotesque beast masquerading as a soldier. This was no soldier but a blight on the Universe, and he was the cure. As he neared, the beast’s member swelled as it grew excited by the pending attack. Piaq tried to ignore it as he limped the last few meters. The beast waved its pride in the sky and Piaq attacked. He pushed is way past the protrusion and spun around to the beast’s left side severing the injured arm from the beast’s body. The arm hung by shreds of muscle and bone and the beast fell to its knees.

It laughed in a sickening way as it succumbed to the inevitability of its fate. It grasped its member with its good arm and climaxed in a final show of defiance as Piaq brought his blade down onto the back of its neck. He felt the crunch of the spinal column as he delivered the final blow, and the beast fell to the ground in a heap of blood and hair.

The frenzied crowd was on its feet, and Piaq held up his arm in victory. He kicked the lifeless form and rolled it onto its side. In one final act, he cut off the monster’s genitalia and held it high for all to see, a final humiliation. This was the enemy that threatened and this was what would happen should they return. The crowd howled in delight and the arena shook as if an earthquake. He flung the grotesque body part as far as he could before falling to his knees in exhaustion.

His eyes swam with spots as the loss of blood and the utter exhaustion took control. He raised both his arms and gave the Acagandi salute before blacking out. The arena exploded once more as Piaq fell into the sweet embrace of a victorious darkness.

Zarasic Law

This Science Fiction short story is a lead-up to the book titled, Onyalum Wars. The book is part of the Science Fiction Onyalum Series written by NB VanYoos.

The gentle sun warmed the courtyard as small, winged animals flew from flower to flower, gathering sweet nectar and pollinating the future of their food source. A light breeze wafted with thick floral scents, creating an intoxicating dream world of sights and smells. Even the few ornately trimmed decorative trees swayed to the unseen music of nature, the walls of the sacred temple bounding the energy within, charging life with its invisible threads of magic. A cascade of water from the surrounding mountains offered its own tune to this dance, and the sweet smell of moisture permeated the sacred walls of the temple, completing the idyllic picture of paradise.

Raksh grew nauseated from the riot of nature surrounding him. As an Onyalum, everything he saw screamed against his very existence. Peace, harmony, beauty, these were not things he appreciated, his desires were more deadly. But his mission was clear, woo the natives with promises of security, riches and knowledge, secure the planet as one more outpost against the damnable lizards. If the Issgire won this world, it would severely cripple the Leran efforts in this sector. He must succeed by peaceful means if possible, by force if necessary.

The locals called their world Minerza, which in their language meant Garden. Raksh sneezed from the effluence of pollen, the sickly sweet smell troubling his mind. The people of Minerza were a religious lot. Every man, woman, and child worshipped the same ideological nonsense centering on the connections between them, the planet, and all things in the Universe. Mumbo-jumbo. Raksh thought.

His only connection to this Universe was whatever body he currently possessed. In this case, it was a Nand called Hosha that had fallen in battle. As General of a scouting unit, Hosha had been a promotion for Raksh, and he was fitting into his role superbly, though peaceful negotiations were still challenging. Nonetheless, his belief the Leran would ultimately win the contest kept him loyal and willing to adjust his natural inclinations.

The leader of this world was a priest and his words were commandment to everyone on the planet. Convert him and the planet would fall in line. However, negotiations had been elusive. When Raksh spoke with the man, the priest had a way of talking such that it appeared progress was being made, but afterward, it was apparent nothing had actually changed. Raksh’s patience was running thin and he hoped today might finally be the day the leader capitulated.

He had brought only a small garrison of Leran elites, but war wasn’t on the agenda. It was only sufficient to show the technological superiority of the Leran armies without overtly threatening the local population. As protocol dictated, several of his troops were visiting hospitals to help treat the sick and injured with their more modern methods. A promise of a society free from illness was a powerful temptation to a primitive world like Minerza.

He waited in the courtyard with two of his subordinates, and though neither were Onyalum, they, too, appeared uncomfortable basking in the glowing beauty around them. Raksh eyed the warm red walls of the temple and was impressed with the artisanship that showed in ornate reliefs and precision stone cutting that formed the walls. Primitive yes, but impressive for a world without technology. That was their weakness, no weapons or technology to save them from being taken over by the Issgire.

Naturally, Raksh had shown them propaganda holographs of the Issgire and their oppressive rule of all who entered or were acquired by the empire. Though their tactics had changed and a softer approach was being employed to new worlds, the people of Minerza wouldn’t know this. They would only know what Raksh told them, and he hoped it would be enough to persuade them to join the growing alliance of the Leran.

They offered technology, weapons, medical advancements, and increased food production in return for a foothold base being established on their world. If they so desired, their people could join the crusade with the Leran and help repel the hoard of reptiles trying to take over the galaxy. Though all Onyalum knew the final outcome of this conflict, those worlds that fought alongside them were oblivious to what was really behind the wars. Raksh appreciated that deceit and tried desperately to emulate it in all his dealings. After all, he worked for Kiirgatt and his own desires, caring less for followers of the Leran.

The sound of a bell signaled the end of the temple prayers and deliberations, and Raksh sighed with relief that soon his role on this world would be completed. Once the agreement was reached, he would turn it over to the units responsible for upholding the Leran end of the bargain. His own troops would move on to new worlds, spreading the gospel of the Leran as they fought against the Issgire.

The door to the courtyard opened and attendants signaled all three to enter. Raksh went first as protocol dictated, walking past the diminutive attendants, towering over all the people of this world. Once inside, they were led down a long corridor with open windows and detailed murals on the interior walls. The murals depicted exactly what was seen through the windows, a peaceful world of beauty and calm. As they turned down another corridor, he spotted a large mural dominating a far wall. In it, people sat beneath a large dais with arms intertwined chanting, singing or praying to some mystical power. On the dais, a person held their arms upward as a ghostly image appeared to be leaving their body, floating into the heavens above.

It sent a chill up Raksh’s spine from the similarity to the spirit of an Onyalum leaving a body. Clearly they believed in some form of afterlife, a person’s life-force moving on to something greater.  He grinned. The only thing you’ll move onto is another hapless being without any memory of your former selves.

Only Onyalum had the power to live endlessly in body after body all memories intact. Everyone else was relegated to a short life before being dispersed like smoke into the giant vacuum of space. Their existence was pitiful, and Raksh had nothing but disdain for them. To him, they were play toys created for his amusement. Something the Creators brought into existence, but he destroyed. And now, they were only pawns in a battle they didn’t understand and couldn’t win. Pathetic.

The large doors to the inner sanctum of the temple opened slowly, and Raksh walked through tall and proud. Though the Nand were elegant, he commanded attention whenever he entered a room. He knew his power was felt by all who met him, and he nurtured that presence as part of his role as leader and benevolent bringer of hope. He moved to the center of the floor and eyed the hundreds of people sitting around him in tiered seating ten high.

At the back of the room, twelve seats towered over the proceedings where the leadership of this world sat solemnly. The lead priest, Vilru, rose quietly as Raksh and his men stopped in the center of the room beneath the vaulted dome where shafts of light created a heavenly glow. Behind the leaders, another mural depicted a similar image of a spirit leaving a body, but Raksh didn’t let it bother him. He had experienced so many religions through countless lives, all blending into similar ideologies in a vane attempt to describe the Universe they didn’t understand.

Vilru spoke quietly, but the acoustics in the room amplified his words to all who stood in the center. “We have consulted the Zarasic Law and find your offer acceptable. We are a peaceful world and do not wish to upset the balance with your conflict.”

Too, bad. Raksh thought darkly. His men hadn’t seen battle in some time and were growing soft. Still, it sounded like the priest was agreeing to their terms, so his mission would soon be over and he could leave this rock for good.

“We do not strive for technological advancement and do not want your assistance in that matter, but we can have an accord where your armies may use our world to continue your vane efforts at quieting the galactic violence we feel through the Zarasic Law.”

Again, mumbo-jumbo. All Raksh cared about was the base on their world. If they didn’t want technology, no skin off his back.

“Before we complete our agreement,” the Priest continued, “Zarasic Law stipulates we must perform the ritual of transformation as we embark on this new path. It is an ancient tradition and must be adhered to lest our world meet unfortunate future events from our mindlessness.”

What is he spouting? Raksh thought impatiently. Ritual? Did these meaningless creatures never stop their inane efforts to bring nonsense into the universe? “We would be honored to watch your ritual.” He said deferentially, bowing slightly. “Afterwards we can work out the details of our treaty.”

Vilru nodded and sat down signaling to all within the sanctuary. In unison, the people intertwined their arms and closed their eyes. As one voice, they began chanting a melodic verse that Raksh didn’t understand. The eerie similarity to the mural was not lost on him, but he was willing to put up with it if it meant the treaty would be signed.

The chanting rose and fell, and the amplification off the chamber walls was nearly deafening. But Raksh and his men stood quietly as it progressed. Suddenly, Raksh’s communicator came to life. He turned up the volume to hear what his men were saying. “What’s that, Pero?” He asked barely able to hear above the din.

“They are all chanting something, sir.” Pero said in a desperate tone. “All at once they simply sat down and linked arms before beginning to chant. The sound is beginning to hurt our ears! What should we do?”

Even Raksh felt disoriented, and a growing pain formed in his ears from the sound as it reverberated off the stone walls. “Do nothing! We are close to a deal.” He replied, but there was no response or it was lost in the chanting as it rose in volume and cadence.

His men looked beleaguered from the onslaught and held their ears to ward off the deafening sound that only increased in strength with every chorus. Raksh began to see spots before his eyes and he staggered backward as he could no longer maintain his balance. He realized too late what they were doing. Only once before had he seen sound used as a weapon, but it had been very powerful. He cupped his ears and tried to move to the entrance, but his steps were unsteady and he fell to his knees.

Through the rush of sound, he heard his men’s screams as the energy from the chanting damaged their ears and vibrated their cores. At that moment, Raksh felt a burning pain as his Onyalum spirit began ripping from Hosha’s body by the sound that grew to a torrent like needles piercing his body. He screamed in anger and lifted his head high as he fought the separation. A bright white light blinded him as all sound became a single note of agony prying him free of the fleshly bonds.

It was done. Raksh floated silently above Hosha’s lifeless form, the spirits of his men clouds of gray smoke floating to the angelic dome overhead and the infinite beyond. He eyed the mural behind Vilru and realized their religion wasn’t just another in a long line of ideologies to help them sleep at night. They had tapped into a power even Onyalum barely understood let alone mastered. For the first time in his existence, he felt fear.

He was about to transition back to Kiirgatt when he noticed Vilru staring at him. The people had stopped chanting and looked to their leader expectantly. Raksh almost believed the priest could see his ethereal form but he knew that was impossible. Still, they had separated his spirit from flesh, who knew what else they could do.

Demon.

A voice sounded in Raksh’s mind. It was the priest.

We follow the Zarasic Law and it governs all things in the Universe, even you. Go back to your god and tell him we will not be part of his abominable armies. Though we were created by a god, we have transcended that realm and live in another, higher plane of existence. Send any other forces to our world and they will suffer the same fate as you and your troops.

Tell him we will not bow to his will and will not succumb to his, or any other evil, Demon. Tell him he will be lucky to survive us as we strive to defeat all darkness in this Universe. Zarasic Law has determined you are a plague to all life, and we are the cure. Tell them all that their war is nearly at an end and all will lose. We have found the power, and they will come to restore the balance. Tell them their end is near.

Raksh was about to respond when he felt the rush of a transition. When he came out, he was far from Minerza in some distant part of the Universe he did not recognize. How had the priest done this to him? How did they wield such power? Was the Universe working with them, granting them the power over Onyalum and all spirits, or were they tapping into some potential that, as yet, had not been seen before? He felt fear once more.

The priest’s words were ominous, and he would report them to Kiirgatt as directed. He hoped the god would grant him another body, but after this failure, his days might be over in this conflict. He pictured the bridge of Kiigatt’s ship and made his transition.

As the blinding light rushed him across the Universe, a disturbing thought nagged in his mind. The priest had said they will come. Who are they?

Trophy

This Science Fiction short story is a lead-up to the book titled, Onyalum Wars. The book is part of the Science Fiction Onyalum Series written by NB VanYoos.

Petima placed the ceremonial paints back in their pouch and bowed once more to the image of Krak, the god of war. With the intricate war paint completed, he was a formidable visage despite his youth. He had just turned twelve and was on his sacred quest to become a man by facing his fears. Those fears would be formidable, but he would not fail on his quest.

His people were primitive by any standard, but they ruled their world as the dominant species. Descended from arboreal creatures, they left the trees to take advantage of the greater food sources available on the ground. As tool development, and eventually weapons development evolved, their species rose in prominence and intelligence. Soon, all creatures of the forest feared them and gave way.

They were bipedal, had incredible binocular vision, and shed the fur so dominant in other creatures. Tan in color, they possessed small heads with two ears capable of independently swiveling one hundred eighty degrees to detect sound from nearly all directions. Their very large eyes were adapted to daylight but darkness was where they excelled, when hunting was best. Petima was nearly a perfect specimen of their species.

Petima’s smooth skin was marked from head to toe in the ceremonial colors his people wore when preparing for a hunt or battle against neighboring tribes. His only clothing was a simply loin cloth protecting his genitals and a small belt to hold his weapons. He was free and unencumbered for this quest.

Each boy within the tribe must complete a series of tests, each difficult and perilous. Many did not return from these quests, but those that did were welcomed into the tribe as a man and a warrior. Only then would they be instructed in the powerful art of battle and take their rightful place beside their elders protecting the people.

Petima had thought about his chosen fear to confront since first seeing the great lizard people when he was only eight. He and his sister had been out gathering nuts for his mother’s bread when a powerful light ignited the sky with a roar like thunder. They ran as far as they could and took shelter in a small stand of bushes as a great white monster fell to the ground spitting flames that destroyed all they touched.

His sister had cried and he held her mouth to keep her sounds from betraying their location. He watched from a distance as the great beast came to rest on the ground before belching forth lizard people in dizzying numbers. Hundreds descended from the beast’s belly, each wearing ceremonial garb and carrying strange weapons.

Though fearful, he had wanted to see more of this mysterious beast and its kin, so he released his sister who ran back to their village in stark terror. He crept closer to the large monstrosity, keeping low in the vegetation to conceal his location on the ridge overlooking the great beast. As he drew closer than he dared, he stopped behind a large del tree, its enormous branches spreading out above him, blocking the sunlight that might reveal him.

He watched from behind its great trunk as the lizard people unloaded strange equipment and supplies from the belly of the great beast. Several of the lizards had broken off from the main group and walked into the surrounding forest. Their eyes were covered in darkness and they wore large packs on their backs with mysterious devices in their arms. Petima was curious.

After walking a short distance, the lizard men aimed their devices into the forest and belched forth green flames of such brilliance that Petima was blinded and fell to the ground in shock. As his vision returned, he watched a towering inferno of fire engulfing the forest around the great beast. He ran as the flames licked at his heels. Large trees, thousands of years old were ignited in a pyre of horror, and Petima feared he, too, would be consumed by the strange fire.

He shook as he remembered that horrible day when the lizard people had arrived. At first the tribe had believed them to be gods sent to punish the people for their poor offerings. But later, after many had died at the lizard’s hands, they came to know them as demons sent to consume their world and all the life within it. They dug enormous holes in the ground, stealing the very life force of their world while laying waste to anything that stood in their way, including the tribe’s village.

It had been a sad day when the village was forced out of their home and chased across the land to another location far from their birthright. They cursed the lizard people, but against their power and magic, the people were no match. But Petima was determined to face them, bringing back a trophy that would prove his worth as a man and a warrior.

He placed his ceremonial equipment back in the hollow of the tree where he’d made his camp and set off into the forest toward the distant camps of the lizard people. Their numbers had grown great since his first encounter, but he was not afraid. He had faced many reptiles as a child, some large enough to swallow him whole, but he had always won because the people were intelligent, and reptiles were dumb animals.

He was a descendent of the great tree spirits, and from the moment they had descended to the ground from the high branches, they had grown to be the rulers of the forest, greater than all animals that crawled, climbed, or flew. This was their land, and although he might never see the end of the lizard people, he would let them know he was no coward, he was a warrior.

He made good time as his heart beat strong and his legs ran free. He knew these forests and was one of the fastest creatures on two legs. He came equipped with his boomerang, a knife carved from the great crystals of the mountains, and a small sling with which he was deadly accurate. But his mission was not to fight, his was to use stealth to make off with one of their prized weapons right from under their noses.

He stopped and surveyed the perimeter of their encampment as the sun began its eventual quest for bed that the moon may have its time in the sky. Twilight would be best for his quest. He slid beneath their barrier and made his way toward structures where many of the lizard men gathered. As he neared, he heard their insidious voices hissing demonic words while sitting around a fire cleaning weapons.

This was his chance, a perfect trophy for his quest. He eyed the strange metallic weapons reflecting light from the fire and he narrowed in on a small, handheld device that didn’t look too large to carry. The lizard men were large and strong and he was small by comparison. Their weapons could be heavy, and he needed speed to escape with his prize.

Convinced the smaller weapon would be manageable, he eased around the edge of the building, trying to still his heart from the pounding in his chest. He closed his eyes and chanted the sacred prayer of fear.

Fear is but a feeling, not an enemy. But like an enemy, it can beat a man down until he is defeated by only a feeling. Only an enemy is real, and only an enemy can cause death. Fear not death, for a warrior will rise again to join all the warriors that have come before him. Fear is but a feeling, not an enemy.

He checked his quarry once more and determined the path he would take after gaining his trophy. He took several deep breaths and focused. Sprinting from his hiding place, he was a dark blur through the lizard men as he grabbed the weapon in one stride, leaping into the air off the table they sat around. He heard their sharp hisses as he sprinted across the open road and slid beneath a piece of large equipment sitting idle.

Clearing the heavy machinery he was at full stride as he heard the lizard men curse him as they pursued him across their encampment. He passed other lizard men, his appearance causing shock as he sped past faster than a chitaca being chased by a lek. He was nearing the barrier and was prepared to slide beneath it in one deft move, putting more distance between him and his pursuers. Only two more steps and he was free.

His body went rigid and he fell in a heap, sliding into the barrier, its sharp edges cutting his skin. He lay motionless, stunned by the change in his circumstance, his mind reeling as he felt little but the blood oozing from his wounds. He could not control his eyes and he stared blankly into the darkening night sky, the first of many stars beginning to make their appearance.

His breathing was shallow and rapid, and his heart felt like it would burst through his chest. Fear gripped him as he realized he had been caught. He had faced his fear only to have it consume him. He would die and it was fitting, though he might never join the warriors before him. Suddenly, a large silhouette appeared above him, its demonic grin and razor teeth ready to eat its unlucky prey. He would be strong to the end. It raised a taloned foot and placed it on his neck, and Petima knew it would suffocate him as did the lek when it finally caught the chitaca.

∆ ∆ ∆

Seraar had just come from his hut when he spotted the commotion by his men. A small, dark figure was darting through the camp, and it carried one of their weapons. His eyes narrowed as he focused on the dark flash. He went into battle mode and sprinted from this hut on a path to intercept the local creature. Although they mostly kept to the woods, several of his men had been attacked as they patrolled the region around their mining operations. Fear was their best method of keeping the locals away.

Issgire were built for speed, and he easily clocked the local with little effort. It was small and would be difficult to catch, so he pulled his weapon and set it to stun. As he rounded a large tanker, he intercepted the small creature as it was preparing to slide beneath the perimeter fence. If it got into the forest, they might never find the small being. He aimed and fired twice, the second knocking the creature to the ground, its body sliding into the fence, the sharp wire cutting it severely along its arms, legs and neck.

Seraar slowed his pace and holstered his weapon as he approached the stunned creature. It was small, most likely an adolescent. The paint colors made it from a local tribe they had chased off years before. Why do they always come back against such impossible force?

He placed a foot on the creature’s neck and applied pressure. If it regained its strength, he didn’t want it to escape. He picked up the weapon as his men approached. It was a small handheld, but capable of killing on the highest setting. He flipped it over and read the name on the handle, Lisoor.

“Lisoor, step forward please.” He hissed in angry tones.

The young soldier stepped out from his peers and looked down in deference. “Yes, sir?”

Seraar wasn’t sure whether this incident warranted disciplinary actions or not, after all, no one expects a small creature taking off with your weapon in the middle of your armed camp. Still, it was best to make sure his men understood even these small creatures posed a valid threat. It wouldn’t have been much effort for the creature to turn the weapon on his men instead of just stealing it.

“I believe this is yours.” He hissed as he threw the weapon at the soldier’s feet. “How is it such a diminutive creature can make off with your weapon?”

“Uh…I do not know, sir. It came out of the darkness and was gone before we knew what had happened.” He picked up his weapon slowly and placed it in his holster.

Seraar felt the small creature beginning to stir beneath his foot and he made his decision. “I will not tolerate such sloth in my unit. This world may not possess real enemies, but the local wildlife can be just as dangerous when you do not pay attention!” He pulled his own sidearm and shot Lisoor with a stunning blast. The young soldier fell in a heap.

“Pick him up and make sure he is assigned exterior perimeter patrol for the next five nights.” He holstered his weapon and looked down at the now squirming creature beneath his foot. It feebly tried to bite him, but his scaly feet were far too hard to penetrate. “As for you my poor friend, I admire your tenacity and courage. However, we cannot have you wreaking havoc on the order of my camp.” He placed his large claw against the creature’s cheek and pulled his foot back, slashing a deep tear in the creature’s face.

Blood spread from the wound and the creature barely silenced a yelp from the pain. It was a bloody and muddy mess as it backed against the wire fence trying to flee from Seraar. He laughed as he picked it up by its neck and grabbed its flailing feet. “You won’t be bothering us anymore, and that scar will remind you who is in charge in this region. Tell your tribe to keep away or we will wipe you out!”

He tossed the small creature across the fence and it landed with a thud on the hard ground. He stared at its stunned form as it tried to recover from a demoralizing capture and release. “Run little animal, run!” Seraar hissed through the fence as he brandished his weapon, firing into the night.

 ∆ ∆ ∆

Petima placed a large heja leaf against his face to stop the bleeding and prevent infection. He spit blood from his mouth as he limped through the forest towards his village. He had failed but survived. His face was torn badly, and he feared a broken leg as pain shot through him with every step. He had a long way to go but refused to give up now. Despite his lost trophy, he had faced his fear and lived to tell about it.

He didn’t know why the lizard had released him, but he suspected it was to warn others who might try such a daring quest. The lizards would step up their vigilance, and any attempt to penetrate their perimeter would be more difficult to virtually impossible. But he had faced them and no longer feared them. They were not demons as his tribe thought, but only warriors from a distant land in the sky.

He had witnessed his captor shooting one of its own, presumably for letting Petima steal his weapon. He smiled at the memory, but this only caused pain across his torn face. He stopped to steady himself as spots swam through his eyes. He had to keep moving and reach his village before his wounds felled him. If he fell in the forest, he would not last long. As it was, the smell of his blood would draw predators looking for an easy meal.

The stars above lit his path, and he yearned for the moon to rise, its brilliant light a beacon he could follow home. He drew his knife and held it tight as he continued to limp through the forest. He might not survive the night, but in his mind he was a warrior. He had faced hundreds of the lizard men and could tell the tale. Perhaps he hadn’t failed in his mission after all. He thought about the other boys in his village and knew his quest had been far greater than any they had survived.

He had no trophy like the tooth of a lek or paw of a teer, but he had faced the lizards and lived. As the moon finally peered over the trees, he smiled once more, grinning at the pain this caused. He felt the hot blood beneath the leaf and realized he would wear his trophy forever.

Berserker

This Science Fiction short story is a lead-up to the book titled, Onyalum Wars. The book is part of the Science Fiction Onyalum Series written by NB VanYoos.

The Tlacidol were primitive warriors split along tribal lines across one continent on a world of three continents isolated due to the lack of technology. It was here the Leran armies hoped to establish a beachhead before taking over the entire planet. It was a reach for their forces, but they desired the raw resources available in the system, a system too remote from the reach of the Issgire Empire.

All except Tiir, an Onyalum sent by the creator Danirdan to infiltrate the primitive world as a spy and saboteur should the Leran make landfall. He had been on this world over a hundred years, living and fighting among the primitives he’d grown fond of. It was a young world, and he loved the primitive savagery inherent on such a planet.

He had risen in stature to a great leader of the Lapol Tribe, now the largest tribe on the continent. His berserker fighting style while under the influence of local hallucinogenic vegetation was legendary, and the many wounds scarring his visage presented a grim record of his battle prowess.

The Tlacidol were a powerful yet lean species. In the low gravity of their world, they evolved into a tall species with lightening quick reflexes and remarkable strength. Though not reptilian, their appearance was reminiscent of an earlier ancestor of the Issgire, thus making them the perfect ally. A sleek, hairless head was mounted on a slim neck that sat atop a muscular, bi-pedal body complete with a short vestigial tail. The skin was like tough leather, naturally green but often multi-hued due to the tribal paints worn by most. The colors indicated tribal affiliations.

The hands were remarkably dexterous with formidable claws sheathed when not in battle. The eyes possessed excellent distance vision and were able to see through even the densest nighttime jungle. Males of the species sported bony ridges along their spinal column, their size and intricacy associated with age and strength. The ridges stood tall like flags in battle, but remained folded down when not fighting. The ridges were used both as a territorial display against enemies and for sexual courting of the females. To Tiir, Tlacidol were an evolutionary combination of the best reptilian and feline features.

The system was named Saphilon-2146 in the Issgire Galactic Planetary Catalog, just another star in the remote Saphilon section of the Lannion Arm of their galaxy. It was too far from the Empire’s main holdings for the establishment of a permanent base, but desirable enough to seed it with an agent of destruction should the future require it. Tiir loved his job and couldn’t wait to foment revolt against the Leran scouts that had recently landed on this distant rock.

Continuing their rather effective method of recruiting worlds to their cause, the Leran worms had established diplomatic relations with a neighboring tribe, the Dnow. The Dnow and the Lapol had fought each other for centuries along the borders of each other’s territories, and Tiir knew they saw the Leran as an ally that would help defeat the Lapol thus widening their lands. However, the Leran, ancient and wise, rarely offered technology to those too primitive to create it on their own.

However, once the base was established, their defenses would be unassailable to anything but modern weaponry. This was why Tiir had to nip it in the bud before that happened. His spies established only two Leran drop ships had landed thus far. This was good news, but Tiir understood a larger force was nearby, dispersing scout ships to the various worlds in this remote part of the galaxy.

The key to success against this colonization was to demonstrate an inherent instability within the local populace to dissuade the Leran from establishing a base. They wanted the resources, but being so remote made an unstable populace less palatable as their own forces would spend too much time quelling uprisings rather than reaping the bounty of the rich resources they desired. It was always a calculated risk, and the Leran typically induced the local population with technology for increasing crop productions or curing illnesses, something this world didn’t need.

He knew an all out frontal attack would be useless and would only harden the Dnow’s resolve to welcome the Leran as protectors of their lands. Instead, Tiir had devised a method for creating instability in the Dnow Tribal ranks thus creating a civil war. Coupled with a frontal attack, the alliance with the Leran would quickly break.

Tiir had spent time on the other continents and knew their conditions were even more barbaric. This continent promised the most likely place for a base, but he believed he could change that situation if his plan succeeded. Long before the Leran had arrived, he had established relations with certain Dnow leaders in exchange for protection from his raiding parties. It was amazing what you could accomplish with nothing more than a few females to trade.

The instability he’d planted amongst the Dnow had taken root and his final objective would seal the fate of their leaders, chasing off the Leran for now. He and a select few of his forces had already overrun and killed the local border leader named Illut. The barbaric leader had never been in the good graces of the Dnow high council, but his prowess protecting the Dnow borders had kept him in power. He had always been viewed as a threat to the stability of the Dnow, and Tiir planned on exploiting that fact.

After killing Illut and most of his warriors, Tiir and his men painted themselves in Illut colors in preparation for starting the civil war the high council had always feared. At the same time, Tiir had ordered his own Lapol border leaders to attack the Dnow to the North. To the South, Tiir held off his forces as his allies expected the promised protection. It would split the Dnow tribe in two as northern leaders would expect the southern leaders to come to their aid. But they would not come, Tiir had seen to that.

The Dnow relations with the Leran could not survive a civil war combined with an all out attack from their neighboring enemies. It was everything Tiir had set in motion decades before, and he was excited as it began to unfurl as he had envisioned. The Leran would write off this world as too hostile for now, planting one of their worms to rise as leader all could rally behind. But that worm would have to contend with an Onyalum bent on destabilizing the world the worm wanted to pacify. Tiir could look forward to possibly centuries of excitement.

After painting themselves in Illut’s tribal colors, he and his warriors marched towards the landing area of the Leran scouts. Taking up offensive positions around it, their colors had thus far allowed them to move uninhibited within the Dnow territory. Various leaders were sending parties to meet with the Leran, so Tiir’s infiltration simply mirrored those other leaders.

As the hallucinogenic properties of the local plants began to take hold of his senses, he eyed the distant ships sitting idly on the open plain below them. From his lofted jungle position, he could see all the points of attack where his men were currently arrayed. When they started, mass confusion would reign, but his men would be merciless as they took down anyone not marked in Illut’s colors.

Each of his warriors would be under the influence of the narcotic, the drug heightening their battle senses to that of near supernatural proportions. He’d learned long ago that a dedicated fighting force under the influence of select narcotics could be made into a nearly fanatical religious force imbued with powers beyond that of normal warriors. His men were that fighting force, and they followed him as the Issgire followed the creator Danirdan.

Although they lacked anything more technological than swords, spears, and arrows, he had whipped up a batch of primitive explosives that would be used as part of their shock and awe campaign. They would hit hard, bringing the Leran into the fray before withdrawing. It would be quite the spectacle, and poor Illut would be blamed for the attack.

As predicted, one of the scout ships fired its engines as part of daily maintenance, that was the signal. He watched as his forces intermingled down below drew weapons and began the carnage. Those outside the immediate vicinity of the fighting had no idea who was attacking, so they could not marshal a defense against the mysterious foe. Tiir’s warriors mowed them down before they realized what was going on.

Tiir pulled his sword and sprinted down the hillside into the thick of the battle. His senses were at their peak and his berserker actions took out many surprised by an attack by their fellow brethren. It was nearly too easy. He paused, taking time to light one of his makeshift grenades which he threw into the fray. The explosion panicked the Dnow warriors and the distant Leran were suddenly on high alert as something totally unexpected caught their attention.

Other explosions sounded across the plain as more of his men threw their own grenades into the battle. It was too much for the Leran and they opened fire on the local warriors near the ships. Tiir smiled as the technologically advanced weapons tore through the Dnow warriors equally surprised by the turn in allegiance by the aliens. They could trust no one and fell back to tribal identities, fighting all others not in the same colors of their own local tribe.

Tiir laughed through his hallucinogenic haze as he took off another head with a deft swipe of this deadly blade. The fuse had been lit and the chain reaction he’d hoped for ignited the Dnow into a civil war that would take decades to recover from. He watched the second ship’s engines ignite as the Leran prepared to flee the chaos.

It was the final signal for his men to leave the fray and regroup far from the battlefield. He and several of his warriors headed back into the hills, their bodies covered in glorious red from their deadly assault. As he neared the top of the hill, he turned back to the roar of ships leaving the ground while spraying those left behind with a hail of supercharged particle cannons burning enormous black gashes in the plain while vaporizing anyone unfortunate to be nearby. The Leran would not be welcomed back anytime soon.

It was too much for Tiir to dream for, and he howled in victory as he and his men slipped into the cover of the thick jungle. It was good to be Onyalum!

Thank you for your patience!

The loss of anyone is difficult to deal with, but especially the loss of someone you were with for twenty years. Since my wife’s passing in May, I have spent time with my two daughters trying to adjust to our new normal. Needless to say, my writing has taken a back seat to our immediate needs.

As we continue to work through our grief, I will become more efficient in running our house, tending to my girl’s needs, and staying focused on my day job. However, my passions for both stargazing and writing will be a necessity as time goes by. I need my catharsis of creating books to entertain myself and my fans, and this blog is an integral part of that process.

To show my appreciation for your patience, I will be posting two (2) stories to this blog in December. Time permitting, the associated podcasts will also be available. As far as the Onyalum Series goes, book five, A Speck of Blue, will resume next year with a delivery date late 2012 or early 2013. At that time, book six associated with this blog will then be underway.

While my life has been busy since my tragic loss, my imaginative mind has been working on plots and story-lines for both this blog and my series. Although my world will never be the same without my wife, I hope to turn her inspiration into stories that will entertain for generations. Me and my family will live our lives to the fullest, pursing our dreams and our passions to honor her presence in our hearts. Thank you for your patience and continued support, your wait will soon be over.

Sincerely,

NB VanYoos