Kael's Universe Chapter 16 -- Explanations

Chapter XVI
Explanations

Many people waited to greet Sharile. Kelemenians from all over the planet had gathered at the Terha valley just to see him set foot on Kelemene soil once again. They cheered when they heard the sonic boom of his ship entering the atmosphere. The rest of the Himdun fleet stayed behind in orbit.

Sharile paid it all no attention, though. He was once again engulfed by his studies and regarded the noise of his adoration a distraction. He had returned to his old self. After their talk, Daskin and Sharile resolved that he should keep a very private life. Anything he did would be overblown. It would be best for his actions to be hidden. Besides, Sharile wasn’t a good performer anyway.

The ship docked behind the wall of the base so that no one could see him. He was rushed underground to where his quarters would be throughout the duration of the war. It was comfortable and spacious.

“You think they made this place for some sort of king.” Sharile said.

“Be careful, Sharile. This may all be a test for you. Not purposely, of course. But personally, you have to guard yourself against letting all of this make you conceited.”

“Don’t worry, Daskin. I know why I am here and what I’m supposed to do. Quite honestly, now that I see just the way people are acting about me, it’s a bit alarming.”

“You’re a good man, Sharile. Other men would fall. But not you.”

_____

Sharile sat down after Daskin left and looked over his notes for a while. Things were difficult to decipher, such as Yav fleet movements. It seemed to him that the enemy was spreading themselves out very thinly, dangerously thin. Sharile knew this wasn’t wise, unless they had something else in store for the Kelemenian fleet.

Sharile decided to let his mind think on other matters. Before they landed he had a holo-conference with the leaders of Himdun and the asteroid colonies. Though those who lived on the asteroids were the first to offer to help. Sharile looked over what they had to offer. There weren’t very many of them that could fight.

He started to do some number crunching. Adding the estimated initial attack group that Himdun had to offer in orbit above Kelemene, as well as those from Kelemene and the asteroid threads, brought their troop estimates to around the figure of fifty-six million.

Yavamene, however, happened to inhabit a superior amount of people. The enemy’s forces matched if not exceeded their numbers. In addition, Yavamene had only one planet to defend. Sharile would not only have to send the correct amount of troops to attack Yavamene, but also leave enough behind to defend Kelemene, Himdun, and the Golgond Barrier.

Sharile fretted over this for a few days, trying to determine the correct course of action. Then he remembered that he would not have to leave a defense fleet at Himdun because they were already far out of reach. This offered him some relief. But that was only half of his problems. Much of his strategy had to be devoted to the attack. Where, when, and how were his biggest dilemmas.

The when was not as hard. As soon as they were ready they would attack. But he had to be ready, too. How and where were tied together somehow. Where they began their assault determined how they would carry it out. If they attacked Denda directly, as Daskin had suggested, Sharile assumed that all there forces would have to be involved. For surely, the president would have to stay there to represent false image of courage and nobility. They would have to surge all their forces onto Denda in order to take it and keep it until the president was found.

But Sharile was concerned about the possibly of killing civilians. He wanted at all costs to avoid the death of even one innocent life. In order to do this though, it meant no attack on Denda. That was out of the question. Lives would have to be sacrificed for the greater good. But how many?

To avoid a more upsetting statistic, Sharile determined that Denda may not be the best place to strike first. Perhaps a vital inlet to the city. Power was the first to cross his mind. Power would severely cripple the city. But because Denda was a spherical infrastructure that hovered high in the air it was important that the gravity repulsion system not be cut off, lest the entire city plummet into the ocean below.

The more Sharile thought on it, the more he liked the idea. After interrupting the flow of energy to the city, the invading fleet could lay siege upon it, bringing the president to his knees in an effort to save himself and the city. Hunger and warmth would be the best weapons the Kelemenians could use.

Daskin liked the idea as well. As Sharile’s friend and advisor, he consulted with him on the details of the operation. In the end they put together the basic timeline of actions necessary to achieve their goal.

First, the majority of the Kelemenian fleet would be sent to Yavamene. When they arrived, the Yavamene defense fleet would no doubt be waiting for them.

If they succeeded in breaking through the enemy defenses, the invasion fleet would split up; one half headed for Denda, the other advancing toward the Mygaren power complex. They would seize the compound, shut of all power to Denda, and give the word to the other armada that they were ready to begin the blockade.

It would only be a matter of time before the people of Denda would press for the president to admit defeat. After his capture, he could be properly interrogated. After that, Yavamene would be given a chance to elect a new leader. Kelemene would leave a military presence there, just to ensure no rebellion would rise up. In time, if the governing officials of Yavamene proved themselves worthy, Kelemene would withdraw much of their military strength and leave Yavamene to do for herself.

Then the hard work would begin. The people of Kelemene might not support themselves in a fashion that could be considered self-sufficient. Someone would have to rise up and lead them. Essentially, his policy must be incorruptible. His life would need to reflect that of a fix-it-yourself attitude. That was the plan.

_____

Sharile stepped out of his quarters and walked down the hall. He felt a desire to familiarize himself with the place he was going to call home for indeterminable amount of time. The basic structure of the tunnels were as follows; three men could stand abreast through the width of them, which could only imply that movement from beginning to end was purposefully made unproblematic. Sharile had also noticed this on the battle cruiser while on his voyage to Himdun. Perhaps this base was built with the possibility of battle in mind.

The ceiling stood about ten feet off the floor. Glowing wires provided light throughout the length of the tunnels. They were hooked to the ceiling every few feet. Sharile walked passed a few metal doorways. He wondered what lie behind them. He asked Daskin if he could have a tour, but Daskin brushed the issue aside and said, “There’s just a lot of weapons stockpiled here. Many of the rooms are empty as well.”

But Sharile became too curious one day and opened one of the doors. It was dark inside, but it did not bother Sharile. He had with him a small energy lamp, which he turned on after he closed the door. He was shocked to find that Daskin had not lied to him. He just didn’t reveal the whole truth.

He saw weapons of every kind racked and packed in boxes all over the place. Ammo packs of all sorts accompanied the weapons. Sharile stepped further in only to find that the room kept going for at least another fifty feet. At the end, a small light peaked through a long crack about ten feet long. The thin shaft of light landed on a large metallic object. It was some sort of opening to the outside. Some one stepped over the breach and interrupted the flow of light. Sharile heard their boot clang against the metal. He stepped closer.

It was some sort of missile. Sharile rested his lamp of it. He examined the exterior of the object for a while, until he found a small amount of text engraved of a metal plate. It read:

“E.M.P. Missile. High yield electronic pulse emitter within. Handle with extreme care. No one except authorized personnel may handle this device. No. 12883-1.

Sharile grabbed his lamp off the top of the missile and hastily stepped back. He had heard of this technology before. It had been used in horrific ways to cripple entire provinces of Himdun in the revolution.

“An EMP missile?” Sharile said aloud.

“Yes, a missile.”

Sharile was so startled by the voice that he dropped his lamp. It went out, but another light, bright enough to illuminate the whole room, came on.

Stepping from behind a stack of metal crates into Sharile’s view was Daskin.

_____

“What is all this, Daskin?”

“It’s hard to explain.”

“I’m sure I’ll catch on quick.” Sharile sneered.

Daskin spoke as he walked over. “This is just a few of the weapons that we have stockpiles here.”

“Why didn’t you tell me there was this much held here before?”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

Sharile laughed, “It’s a little late for that now.”

“Look, Sharile. The only reason I’m going to tell you what I’m about to tell you is because of your prying. This was something you didn’t need to know.”

“It’s my job to know how we are going to defeat our enemies. What’s this missile for? I thought they were all destroyed after what happened in the revolution.”

Daskin sighed. “All but one.”

“How is this one going to be used? On Denda?”

“No! Never on a city. No. On a fleet in space.”

Sharile blinked and shook his head. “Wait, this thing works in space?”

“Yes.”

“So this is how your going to get passed the defense fleet over Yavamene?”

“No. We’re going to keep it here.”

“Why?”

“In case the enemy decides to invade in retaliation.”

Sharile sat down on an ammo crate and put his hands on head. “I guess that isn’t so bad. What’ll happen to the fleet? They’ll eventually be able to restore power won’t they?”

“No. As soon as their power is gone, every ship within range of the missile will start to give into Kelemene’s gravity, and lose orbital stability.”

“Daskin, your talking about the lives of everyone of those Yavamenian soldier. Potentially millions of lives will be lost!”

Daskin sat down across from Sharile. “If they’re smart, they won’t attack us. Our generals have decided to make it known to the Yavamenian president that we have an E.M.P missile, in secret of course.”

“I don’t like it, Daskin. I should have been made aware of this. My strategy would have been greatly altered with this knowledge in mind.”

“What would you have changed, Sharile?” Daskin questioned. “What would you do with this missile?”

“Destroy it.”

“How would that help us?”

“It’s a power that we can’t afford to use, Daskin. Some power is by it’s very nature evil. There’s no honor in launching this missile. The enemy wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Daskin stood up, “That’s not the point, Sharile!”

“Then what is? What’s the point in firing this thing, or even using it to blackmail the president if we’re going to war to protect life.”

“Soldiers will die either way, Sharile. That‘s there job, soldier kill each other. The last one standing is the one who deserves to live.”

“You make that statement under the presumption that both sides are correct in their intentions. What if both are wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“If we fire this missile, every last one of those effected will die. In ancient history, there was another weapon like this. It was more destructive, but there was no control over it, just like the E.M.P. It was called the atom bomb, or something like that. After a great war they realized it was better to continue fighting nobly, than end a conflict abruptly and finally, resulting in a great loss. Let me put it to you this way; if your fighting in a battle and you come across a soldier who is wounded, would you shoot him?”

“No.” Daskin looked Sharile straight into the eyes.

“No, you wouldn’t. Because he couldn’t stand a chance.” Sharile put his hand on the missile. “They won’t stand a chance against this thing. What if they used it on us? Would that be honorable?”

Daskin breathed in, “It‘s too late anyway, Sharile. The Kelemenian president has made up his mind. If they invade, he will authorize the launch of our E.M.P.”

“Than let’s hope the Yavs don’t attack.”

“Sharile, I hope that every day.”

Battle Montage

Free Animation Textures

Kael's Universe Chapter II

Chapter II
A Serious Crisis

He pressed his finger upon the panel and the door swished open. One escort led him a long way down and then the officer returned to the elevator. Waiting for a while, he grew impatient and decided to ease his anxiety by whistling a little tune. He glanced from one end of the silver walled hallway to another. Finding a seat, he walked over to it. But he did not have a chance to take a rest. Another armed guide came up behind him and tapped on his shoulder. He jumped but instantly knew who it was.

Well aren’t we punctual today, he said to himself.

Again, the aide motioned to follow. The man grew tired of all these mute soldiers. “So, where is it exactly that I’m going?” No answer. He waited a few seconds before speaking again. “Well I guess I must be pretty special to be involved in something so secret, huh?” When the face half-turned with a blank expression he shut his mouth.

A procession of troops passed them rather tightly. It was here that they stopped. The walls around them were still shimmering silver, and the hallways that extended on each side seemed to never end. The soldier made sure the company was not within earshot. “Here we are, sir.” The man was shocked at first but then spoke back in confusion.

“Where? Where are we?”

The soldier stood erect with legs far apart and arms crossed, a salute position. He then articulated something that made no sense whatsoever. “The harvest time has come.”

Almost as soon as he finished a door opened out of nowhere on the blank wall and the man was beckoned to come in. The guard saluted and was dismissed.

---

He was seated in a rather comfy chair and was given some of the best toffaberry wine he had ever tasted. Other people, many other people in fact, were also in the room and they all looked just as confused as he was. He took a sip of his wine.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please. Thank you. I proudly present to you the speaker for this meeting, the President and Emperor of Yavemene, Jeen Baghlet.” At first no one knew what to say, the single most powerful man on the planet would be in the very same room as they. Something to tell your neighbors, the man thought.

But he was wrong. An aura, a ghost if you will, of the President appeared on cue in the middle of the large, wood table. Surely enough, they all saw his direct profile in front of them. The man grew nervous at the sight of the hologram, and sipped his wine.

“Greetings this morning.” He paused and looked down at a paper.

After shifting in his seat and belching ever so quietly with only a few heads turned, he wondered to himself, "Greetings this morning?" Where on Yavemene is this guy any way? He squelched his sudden disrespect with disgust at himself.

The president continued, “Triumph for man. I know this sudden meeting is…very confusing to you, and for some, a bit disturbing. But after I am done I’m sure I will have cleared all of your puzzled thoughts away.” He smiled for a moment and resumed.

“We all know of the troubles that we have been having with the colony, Kelemene. I hope that you are aware of the new development of the smuggler organization that has been taking over Yavemene trading ships. Attempts to pinpoint these pirates have been fruitless due to the makeup of their ships. The ship design resembles that of Yavemene and Kelemene, but my closest advisors tell me, and I agree…” He stopped momentarily, as if worried to speak. “My advisors and I, well… We hope that they are not… Himdunian.” Murmurs went around the table. The man in the comfortable seat sipped his wine.

“Now I know what you’re thinking. Such an assumption would be taken harshly, I know. But my advisors and I have seriously considered this relatively new prospect and nothing comes up to defend their case.” The President paused briefly. He spoke for perhaps another five or six minutes, but the man with wine cupped his glass in his hands. His attention wandered to another person in the room, a woman, in fact. The President interrupted his train of thought, “Now that I have given you an over view of the intelligence, this is where all of you come in. I have chosen you for your esteemed academic and scholarly achievements to go over the whole of it. So I now turn to you to get acquainted personally.”

After thinking for a while, it suddenly occurred to him what all the secrecy was probably about. His attention was again riveted to the President.

---

“Now is the time that I would like to address those of you around the table I have not personally met previously. Mr. Dage, we‘ll start with you. You were born in Denda, yes?”

A movement to the right drew the man with the wine so that they momentarily interlocked gazes. Mr. Dage stood and spoke after a quick, unsteady bow. “Yes, I was born in the northern quarter of Denda in JB 22*.” He stayed standing. The man was gruff, and he looked as if he needed sleep.

“Ah, 41 years old and born in the northern quarter. A prosperous community. Your childhood was obviously filled with support for education. What is your education, or rather, what is your occupation, Mr. Dage?”

“I’m a theorist.”

“Thank you Mr. Dage.” Dage took this opportunity to sit down. “Miss Tayson, also born in Denda, were you not?” The man in the chair sat rocking a little bit. His mind reeled on how obvious it was that the President was playing with them.

“Yes, sir.” Tayson was a small woman, maybe five-five. She seemed sufficiently timid. She put back her hair that had fallen in front of her face hastily, probably wanting to look firm. She looked uncomfortable, instead.

“The southern quarter, right?”

What a jerk, he thought to himself. He could feel the disrespect being aroused in him again. This guy needs a punch in the nose, no matter who he is.

With a redness coming to her eyes and face; “Yes, I was.”

To have your roots set in the south quarter of Denda would be a terrible thing to be revealed so insensitively. The crime and filth that crawls the streets there is so appalling that it is said ‘nothing good comes out of Denda’s rear.’

“And your occupation is the study of economic development.”

Why don’t you let her speak?

“Yes.” She too sat down and pinched the bridge of her nose.

What a heartless idiot.

“And finally our leading professor on the Himdunian planet in general.”

Blast. No more wine.

“Mr. Sharile.”

“Hmm, yes?” He set his wineglass on the table and stood.

---

Sharile picked up the glass and stared into it. I wish I could get a hold of more of that toffaberry wine. He looked at Tayson. “I just wanted to let you know that I think what the president did in there was appalling. I mean about the south quarter and all. And I’m sorry it happened.”

She shifted in her seat for a second to get comfortable. She glanced down at the napkin that lie in front of her, “You know, whenever someone says something about that, like the president did, it makes me feel…”

“Annoyed?”

“Well, ever since I was a little girl I felt that there was always some kind of, oh I don’t know, some kind of cage around me. You know. But something’s always holding me in. Everybody thinks that I’m some dirty hooligan that somehow made my way out. Everyone’s trying to say I can’t do the things I know I can do. And whenever I hear ‘the south quarter’, I think to myself, what do you know about it?” She looked up at him. She seemed startled, or maybe worried. “Not that I’m saying that about you. You were being kind about it all. But sometimes it just gets on my nerves.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t know what to say. Even though he liked this person, intelligent, good humored, and forgiving, he couldn’t quite get over that stereotype. He just didn’t know anything about it, like she said herself. And he didn’t want to be a flat out jerk to her. He didn’t want to be a jerk at all to her. He chuckled quietly. “I don’t even know your first name.”

She smiled. “You promise you won’t tell anybody?”

He leaned in close and whispered, “Not a letter revealed.”

She played into the act and leaned in too. “Alright, it’s Leale.”

A man clearing his throat interrupted them. “Oh,” she said, “sorry about that. You want our orders?”

“No ma’am. This is a bar and buffet. I came over to inform this gentlemen here of… Something.”

Sharile was staring at his fork when finally he glanced up at the alleged waiter. “Wait, we don’t get served over here?”

“As I said sir, this is a buffet. I came over to inform you that a gentleman wishes to speak with you.”

“Yeah? Who?”

“Will you follow me, sir?” He said more as a charge rather than a request. And he turned around. Sharile looked over at Tayson and shrugged.

“I’ll be right back.”

He got up and strolled behind the waiter. They walked around a bend of the bar and through the door into the private dining. He saw Dage sitting at a booth tucked away in a minute corner. Smoke hovered near the ceiling and people were talking quietly. The attendant raised his hand at the man and said, “Mr. Dage would like to speak with you.”

Sharile strolled over to the booth and asked to sit down. “Yeah, sure.” Dage said. He sucked down the last of whatever he had in his glass and coughed. Probably heavy liquor. “The name’s Vegim.” They shook hands.

“Conis.”

“Very good.” He looked at his drink.

“What’s that?”

“Shiriym. You want a drink?”

“No, thank you.”

“I’ll have one anyway. You don’t mind?”

“No.”

Dage snapped his finger and waved a man over. “They have service over here. Huh, and at a high price!” The drink waiter moseyed on over and took his order. “Two.”

I said I didn’t want anything.

---

“Well, I can say one thing. I don’t like that I was forced into this whole deal. Don’t get me wrong though. Forty million nesks would fit my budget just fine. Fill her up like my glass, I say.”

Sharile didn’t laugh. “I just would have liked to have made the decision. Maybe make them beg to pay me so much.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Ah, the drinks!” The waiter set the glasses on the table. Dage picked up his glass. Sharile reluctantly did likewise.

Dage raised his glass high and proposed a toast. “To the next most devastating war in history.”
Sharile was shocked and discretely whispered, “I don’t think it’s wise to speak so freely about such things. Besides, you don’t know that.”

“I don’t know? Must be the theorist in me.” Vegim inhaled his liquor. “It makes sense though. Everything fits. They chose you because you’re the best authority on Himdunian culture, our supposed enemy.” He halted briefly. “They chose that Tayson good-for-nothing because-”

Sharile defended the woman with magnanimity. “Hey, now let’s be reasonable, and civil.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Dage collected his thoughts. “Anyway, they chose her because they need her to judge the possibilities in the future of our economic state due to war debts, the effect of the heavy smuggling, you know, and so on.”

“I agree.”

“Good.”

“I mean I agree with the possibility that these things might be so.” Loftily, Sharile continued.
“Oh, come on. You be reasonable for a minute. The pieces fit into place. Why the secrecy? Why no immediate negotiation? And what of the final piece?”

Sharile hid his smirk; he knew what the last part was. “Yes?”

“Me. I take the questions and see what I make of them. For instance, who will win.” Dage lounged back and shrugged.

Actually, that’s the only thing that doesn’t make sense. It wasn’t that he didn’t like this guy, but it could get there fast.

Dage looked to his wrist and groaned aloud. “Ah, looks like it’s way past my bedtime, Sharile.”
Dage started to get up but stumbled over his own feet. “Whoa, I’m a little dizzy, I guess. I’d theorize I’ve had to much, what do you think Sharile?”

I’d theorize you’d need a ride.

“Let me take you home.”

Kael's Universe Chapter I

Chapter I
The Delegates Convoy

Fee opened the entrance to the Cockpit. The ambassador’s vessel was rather small and the crew often joked that the bridge was the size of a small fighters cockpit. Through the view port, Fee caught a glimpse of escort vessel. The craft was very small but well armed as it boasted two sets of twin heavy laser cannons on both wings. There were six of these Vessel Protection wings. All of them were surrounding the ship. Apparently this next mission was one of importance; none of the crew had been informed of the delegate-vessel’s intent. The pilot was told that the destination was Denda, on the turbulent planet Kelemene. And no one was allowed to disturb the ambassador. Food was sent in via a conveyor belt. He was sustaining himself almost completely by himself in his living quarters.

Fee addressed the pilot, “What’s our current status, Grey?”

Odenn Grey shifted from his seat to another while surveying the stat panel. He rambled off with some numbers. “The exact position is…” He paused for a moment. More numbers.
“So it’ll be two days until we reach Denda.”

“Looks like it, sir.”

Fee turned to get out. He placed his hand on the grip. He attempted to pull it, but it didn’t move. He jerked it hard, very hard. But still nothing happened. He turned again toward Grey, but did not have a chance to speak.

“Sir, we have just lost power to the minor systems on the vessel. We are still bearing at 590 kints. Engines 1-15 even now are stable.”

“Wait. What are you saying?” Fee asked. “Did we sustain a blast?”

Another hit.

“It looks that way sir! I didn’t even notice it the first time.” Grey began to panic. He sporadically engaged his fingers to random controls. Fee could not decipher what he was doing. “I am attempting to regain energy to the lesser power systems.” He fidgeted out a mistake. “Ah, man! Sir, I can’t do this, sir! The controls are gone. Auxiliary Power is gone!”

They were struck again. This time it felt severe.

“We have got to get the scanning systems online to see who‘s hitting us.” Fee made an attempt to opening the cockpit door once again.

“Sir, look!”

Through the viewport, Fee could see four dreadnought fighters come into view. “Aren’t those Yavemene military craft?” Grey asked.

Fee could make out dense luminosities developing behind the ships. They grew more intense as they got closer. The spheres were escalating in power as they grew near. It was too late.

Fee looked over at Grey, who was sweating profusely. “Never been in a combat situation before, have you?”

Grey shook his head.

“Brace yourself! Brace yourself real tight.”

Grey lost his bearings completely. He hit the walls frantically. He hit the door, which slid off not too easily. Grey fell forward on top of the metallic flooring. “You did it Grey!”

Fee picked Grey up to his feet.

---

The impact was incredible. They were both flung across the long passageway. The very thing that would probably kill them was the most wonderful sensation in all of their lives.

Fee hit the side of the hallway at an extreme force. This misdirected his path through the corridor. As he drifted through he noticed that Odenn had not collided with any wall as of yet. He had to act fast. The end of the hallway would kill Grey; he was rapidly gaining speed and would soon give way to his terminal velocity. And he was the only one on board that could pilot the ship and get them out of whatever mess this was that they were in. From what he could tell, the gravity control units were shot; he would have to find the backup elements. He could tie the units to his boots and propel himself from end to end in order to catch up with Odenn. Fee looked down the passageway. Grey was attempting to grip at anything as he screamed through. He wasn’t going very fast, but Odenn still didn’t have much time, or strength to deflect the blow at the end. If he was lucky he might hit his feet or knees and just break his legs. Fee grabbed at a loose cable that had been unveiled away from the wall. He was careful not to get struck by one of the stray sparks that drifted through the air. Flame spewed suddenly and Fee was slightly burned. Steadying himself, he reached into the equipment locker again. Yes, he said to himself, four gravity strips. Of course they didn’t create gravity; they were more like heavy magnets, with a rejecting charge to the metal floor and walls.

Fee ripped the sparking cable from its origin and again tore it in half. He hoped it would be long enough to wrap and tie. He placed a strip on his sole. The slips were already affecting his stability at his current position. He was drifting, rather, spinning at a slow speed.

They were long enough, for his purpose anyway.

He straightened his body and began to move forward. His alacrity increased as he directed the other two strips to maneuver. I must be going fast, he thought. He could feel the air rushing past his face. No doubt I’m about to see him. A dense miasma had taken over his gaze. He coughed and wiped a trickle of sweat that was running across his face. Even still, he thought he could make out a shape. He drifted toward it.

The body was closer, and he could see that it was not struggling at all.

---

He was not Grey. But he was dead, and he could not waste time on the body of a dead man who was no longer any use to the well being of the ship. Fee moved onward. He could finally hear screaming. It was the screaming of a man. Why couldn’t that idiot be a bit louder, he contemplated sarcastically. Even so he needed that voice.

Sure enough, he saw Odenn screaming his lungs out. He had grasped onto a ceiling crossbeam. Tears mingled with oddly shaped smoke were hovering by Grey’s head. “Fee! Somebody, anybody! Please, help me!”

Fee didn’t waste time with unneeded words. Grey was started at first but soon rejoiced to see someone alive. Fee swung his arm out and clutched Odenn’s shoulder.

“Take these.” He handed Grey the other two strips.

“What, what do I-”

“Just hold them above your head and you’ll be able to walk on the floor.”

“Oh, right.” Odenn lifted them over his head. “Like this?”

Fee was already making his way forward through the smoke when he looked back.

“Yeah, that’s great. Just be careful and don’t jump up. The rejecter units aren’t that strong you know.” He glanced back again to see Odenn touch down onto the flooring. Fee set his mind on finding the delegate, and then the cockpit.

---

Fee drew his gun. He set the energy component at 100 percent blast intensity.

And he pulled the trigger, blasting the hatch off of its hinges.

He knew that it would knock him off his feet, but he didn’t expect a sudden wave of heat. Fee dropped the weapon and started to walk in. He felt something soft underneath his feet.

Pie.

“Food! All over the floor!” Odenn exclaimed.

Fee looked at the floor around the door. Food lay all over the place. He stepped further in and took in the cabin at a glance. The delegate was not there. This was his quarters. But where was he? And what of the food scattered all around the entryway?

They both felt another blast in the air. Sure enough, debris was beginning to fly through the room, once stable parts of the ship were now deadly projectiles on a collision course with the two men’s bodies. The shockwave hurtled Fee across the room. He could no longer control his own body. He heard Grey screaming again. But it stopped sharply. Fee hit the wall. And he could not feel any thing in his body but pain. And he couldn’t move. His very first thought was that he might be paralyzed.

He drifted more and more. He moved his eyes to and fro. Fee could see Odenn. He looked dead. He sensed another bang against the hull. And he felt sudden warmth that seemed to grow. And a bright light. White light. The ship was destroyed. But he felt it for what seemed like forever.

Snow Summit

This is obviously a manipulated image. However, it is derived from real snow formations.

Snow Rocks

This is obviously a manipulated image. However, it is derived from real snow formations.

Snow Valley

This is obviously a manipulated image. However, it is derived from real snow formations.

The Island of Erri

This is a sketch of the climactic scene in my book, The Sword of the North.

A Wunderground Pic (Sunset)