Eloquent Tales & Blues

"Where is he?" Caitlin glared at the empty seat, her finger tapping against her desk.

Looking up from his papers, Quinn sighed and glanced at his friend. "I'm not surprised, considering Malark knows how much his tardiness annoys you."

"Excuse me?" Caitlin's eyes narrowed as her gaze shifted to the other triumvir.

Quinn shrugged with a lopsided grin. "Why do you think he's always late?"

"Is expecting a degree of decorum unreasonable?"

"It's not. However, if you learned to ignore his antics, he'd stop squandering our precious time."

Caitlin rose and walked over to Quinn, her eyes narrowing when the door flew open. With a glance over her shoulder, she spotted the heavy-set individual waddling into the room. Caitlin huffed as she stalked back to her desk. Before she returned to her seat, the new arrival entered and spoke with a tired voice. "I apologize for being late. A meeting with several concerned citizens occupied me."

Caitlin lifted her pen as she shook her head. "Malark, it's still far too early to discuss the eventual workings of the federation that'll replace the Larian Federation."

"Why's that, my dear?" Malark marched across the room and relieved his legs of the strain of supporting his bulk. Once Malark's carved chair supported his weight, the plump man withdrew a small rectangular rod. He unclipped one end of it and opened the fan. As he began fanning himself, Malark's eyes became harder as he continued. "It's been five years since the two of you founded this triumvirate. That question still lacks a satisfactory answer the people are willing to accept. They're more worried about this issue than either of you are prepared to admit."

"Malark, there are more pressing concerns we have to deal with." Quinn shuffled the papers on his desk. "What you're talking about is fifteen to twenty years distant."

"We disagree on that, Quinn."

Caitlin narrowed her glare on Malark. "And who is we?"

"Plenty of the population disagrees with you. Besides, they possess the resolve, not to mention the funding, to alter the makeup of this triumvirate." Malark fanned himself as he offered a smirk to Quinn.

He recognized the deliberate threat and looked over at Caitlin. When she noticed Quinn's look, he shook his head. The objection on her lips died as she settled into her seat. Quinn returned his gaze to the pudgy man as he steepled his fingers under his chin. "What do these individuals desire to discuss with us?"

"We feel that the new colonization ships need to be approved." Malark swiped his fan onto his desk. Then he tapped the fan on its uncluttered surface. "The final topic we must discuss is the codification regarding the guidelines for the equality of planets. Without those laws secured, the issue will revert to the status quo of the Larian Federation."

Caitlin clenched her fists and released a breath. "You know full well every planet was equal under Larian law."

"Maybe," Malark stated slowly. "It was for some, Caitlin. However, the vast majority got no equality under the law. Hence why the great colonization ships were overcrowded."

"And you want to ensure the constituents such a law will exist." Quinn raised his hands and leaned back in his chair.

Malark leaned forward, closing his fan. "I do."

"You realize we'll have to manufacture more warships to protect the smaller colonization ships as a result." Quinn tapped a scrap of paper in front of him...

A shot whizzed over Fenton's head, driving him to the ground. Earth beside him detonated, showering him as alarms shrieked from the ramp. His lips curled into a snarl as his eyes whipped up. "Why are you firing at friendlies?"

"Careful, Fenton. It's been volatile since your departure."

Fenton climbed to his feet and brushed the dirt off his clothes. He waved his squad on and resumed his jog. "How hectic was it since we left?"

"Nothing you'd call stable." Jarvis's gaze swept the compound as Fenton's team marched through the makeshift checkpoint. His jaw tightened before he spun about and strode up the ramp. "But we need to talk, and everyone else needs to join the effort to build the wall around this boat. Use any materials you can find."

Rubbing his temples with ragged fingers, Fenton followed his commander into the vessel. "What aren't you telling me?"

"There's too much to discuss." At the top of the ramp, Jarvis hurried into a side chamber, claimed the closest seat, and grabbed the tablet off the table. "I believe you mentioned filling a storage assembly."

With a nod, Fenton withdrew the device and traded it for the pad. "Tarian's warnings should provide answers with enough study, but for the time being hint at our welcome."

"We had to repel coordinated raids." Jarvis sighed as he connected the assembly to a screen. Once the logs filled the display, he skimmed through them. When he finished, his eyebrows crept up. "It looks like creatures similar to those that attacked us devastated the original colony."

"Have you found any reports on trees?"

Jarvis's head turned away from the text as his lips pursed. "What?"

Fenton jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "On our return to the ship, a pair of them charged my team."

"You mean the forest tried to assault you?"

With a grim shake, Fenton wrung his fingers and patted his rifle. "I meant what I said. They walked, spoke, and attempted to kill us. Though neither were expecting our weaponry."

"Are you serious?"

Fenton nodded and slipped his weapon off his shoulder. "The creature's bark, or rather skin, ignited upon impact. When the attacking creatures couldn't douse the flames, they dashed through the trees, still trying to extinguish themselves. Then the forest answered with a tremor beneath our boots."

"You said multiple ones attacked you?"

"Once the initial pair disappeared, another group emerged and chased my team, and if not for leapfrogging, they would have run us down." Fenton rested his head against the bulkhead and slammed his fist against the metal. With a huff, he turned and lifted the tablet. "But enough about our experience. Based upon our greeting, should I assume you encountered something just as bizarre?"

Jarvis snatched the pad and tapped it against the table. His gaze dropped to the device as he released his breath. "Do two waves of green-skinned creatures count?"

One of Fenton's eyes widened as he claimed a seat. "Green men tried to overrun the ship?"

"They ranged from tiny to gigantic." Jarvis stared at the bulkhead with a vacant expression. "And I'm afraid I underestimated them...

Solomon withdrew a photo from his vest, its corners worn. Even as he scanned the corridor, he studied the woman’s features. The smile looked careless and alive. He covered her hazel eyes with his thumb and held them a second longer than necessary. He flipped the photo and reread the message. The ink pressed hard enough to leave grooves.

Please save Sandra.

Peering down the hall, he saw an ajar door. He folded the photo once and slid it back into place, as if returning something fragile to a vault, and retrieved a small periscope. He brought the device to his eye and inched closer. Through the gap, he saw a filthy woman chained to the far wall. It took him seconds to see through the grime, but he’d found Sandra.

However, she wasn’t alone. In the middle of the chamber, a different woman tended a bubbling cauldron. As she stirred the contents, she tossed in fresh ingredients. After swallowing a litany of curses, he tilted his periscope toward the ceiling, revealing three crouched shapes overhead. To her left, three winged creatures dangled from the ceiling, talons hooked into makeshift perches. As Solomon’s scowl deepened, he let his gaze linger on the monsters, studying the scaled hide stretched over their bones.

Solomon stepped away from the open door as he shoved his periscope back into its place. He ejected the magazine from his rifle and tucked it under his arm as he leaned against the wall, tilting his weapon toward the ceiling. He cupped his right hand over the ejection port while he pulled the charging handle back, ejecting the round from the weapon.

After catching the bullet, he eased the breach closed and slid it into the magazine. He skimmed through the loaded magazines on his chest. When he found the one with a thin line of red electrical tape, he exchanged them. Solomon rolled his neck as he depressed the release and inserted the magazine. After removing his thumb, he tugged on the inserted mag, ensuring it was seated correctly before pulling the charging handle back to load his initial shot.

With his weapon prepared for the encounter, Solomon took a deep breath before slipping his fingers into the opening. A heartbeat later, he flung the door open and hopped into the doorway, his rifle trained on the woman standing behind the cauldron. Despite keeping his weapon trained on the wiry and deranged woman, Solomon shifted his gaze to Sandra. “You’re going to release the woman you kidnapped now.”

“Or what, you will shoot me? Your reputation precedes you. You slaughter beasts without hesitation. But you do not shoot people, even if you believe them to be wicked.” The woman added a measured pinch of powder to the cauldron. She finally lifted her eyes, filled with madness and certainty. “You’re bound by meaningless morals...

Doubt lodged deep into Caitlin's mind over the world she had urged them to seize. Housing charts shifted weekly, but supply rosters never stabilized. Fists pounded tables in every hall as arguments spilled into the streets. Each proposal dissolved into shouting before it reached a vote. Unity became a relic of polite conversation, the way it vanished with the Federation.

She recognized many familiar faces, all hard workers, but tonight they looked ready to turn on her. No one tried to meet her gaze. For a moment, even Quinn avoided her. As she slumped in her chair, her mind sought an answer, but she kept circling back to the fact that everything had changed. The loudest voices carried an edge she had never heard before.

Caitlin dug through her notes and hoped the meeting would be more productive. As the clamor grew, she leaned over to Quinn, covering her microphone. "Is it too late to change our minds?"

Quinn flashed her a satisfied grin as he patted her back. "Yes, we made the decision, and it stands."

With a groan, Caitlin began tapping her mic, and the raucous crowd stilled, one stray voice at a time. When silence settled upon the hall, she addressed the latest batch of concerns. "Every attempt to debate the efficacy of rebuilding what was lost is a moment we cannot recover."

Her gaze swept across the gathered colonists as she drew a breath. "While I agree in principle that things must be altered, it's a discussion that's not relevant in our current circumstances. We are shelving the idea of colonizing other worlds and reforming the Federation. We need to build a solid foundation for our home. Once we've established our new world, we'll shift our focus back to the stars."

"You're the one who brought us here! You don't get to decide what comes next!" A man shouted. Several others rose to their feet, voices cracking with anger.

"We cannot fracture. We need unity that holds." Caitlin raised her hands, urging everyone to calm down. When the talking ceased, she folded them on the table. "Our immediate need involves developing our new home. Once complete, we'll adjust our platforms to work without the requirement of going through the Larian hub. And remember, the Federation is gone. As my esteemed colleague said, nothing is shielding us."

Caitlin gestured at Quinn before she pressed her palms to the table. "We have a dire need for proper ships if we're ever to protect this fledgling coalition. We must deal with our greatest threat, not gamble on distant futures."

Nodding, Quinn stood up and greeted the crowd with a smile, "Everyone here knows I opposed this plan, but after working with Caitlin, I realize this is our only genuine option."

"What should we do first?" asked another nameless voice from the group.

Caitlin drew a sharp breath as she leaned forward. "We need to establish clear leadership so we can advance in a united fashion."

A murmur rolled through the chamber, hardening into a chant. Several seconds later, Caitlin and Quinn nodded when they recognized the demand.

"Create a triumvirate...

As the sun crypt up the sky, Ramas shook his head. With every motion, the wanderer’s helm softened and elongated. Within moments, the steel had transformed from a protective piece of armor into a hooded cloak. When the edge of the garment reached his calves, he pulled it tightly around his shoulder before pulling the hood down to obscure his milky white eyes. With a sudden inhalation, he emerged from the shadows, stepping onto the town’s main thoroughfare and weaving between the early risers.

Halfway down the street, someone emerged from a crossing path and stepped in front of Ramas, forcing the wanderer to stop. Prior to scanning the area, the stranger leaned in so closely that Ramas could discern the man’s last meal. “What kept you?”

Ramas’s shoulders relaxed as he identified his mark upon the newcomer. With an obscured smile, his hooded eyes soaked in everything despite their deformity. “I’m not that late, Jandar.” Ramas inched closer as he ran his thumb across his lips as he lowered his gaze to the ground. “Besides, Emily’s soldiers are everywhere. In order to avoid them, I needed to take a circuitous route, which delayed my arrival slightly. However, I’m not exceedingly late.”

“I would have rather you had gotten here earlier than you did.”

“That’s a detail we can bicker about later.” Ramas reached out, grasping his informant’s shirt as his head bobbed. “For now, let’s focus on the actual issue, Emily’s soldiers. Is their presence here an abnormality? Or does she truly enjoy the support she’s apparently receiving in this section of the continent?”

“We cannot talk out here,” Jandar said, grabbing Ramas’s arm. With a gentle tug, he retreated down the side path, dragging the wanderer behind him. Every time Ramas pressed about their destination, Jandar would raise a finger, forestalling the discussion. After the third silent rebuke, Ramas resigned himself to following his informant on their own circuitous path through the city. After what felt like hours, Jandar pulled up beside a secluded and unkempt building. His head whipped about as he reached for the door’s handle. “Once we’re inside, we’ll have ample privacy for our inflammatory discussion.”

Ramas tugged his hood as he stared at the establishment’s wall. With his altered sight, the solid structure was nothing more than lightly packed sand suspended in glass, letting him make out the collections of stars just beyond the barrier. His fists clenched as he silently ground his teeth. When his gaze shifted back to Jandar, the similar cluster beside him confirmed the ambush. With a groan, Ramas freed himself from Jandar’s grasp. “Why did we have to come here?”

“Emily has many spies,” Jandar said, opening the building’s door and ushering Ramas inside. “Inside, we won’t have to worry about them. We can have candid conversations.”

Ramas released a pent-up breath as he sauntered into the doorway. He lingered in the opening for a couple of heartbeats before he thumped the frame. “Jandar, you’ve worked with me for many seasons. Must we talk inside?”

“You need to come inside so we can talk.”

“No,” Ramas said, unclenching his fists...

“That was one of the best landings I've ever had,” Dyrk said as he powered down the ship. He unbuckled and stretched his arms overhead. "After establishing base camp, what do you expect Jarvis's first course of action will be?"

"Declan, the colony is just about finished how goes placing the platform?"

Declan looked up from the platform's glowing red center with dread pouring visibly from his face. "Brielle, we have a problem."

Brielle looked from the worried platform technician to the glowing red crystal next to his knees, and she began to take on his concern. "Declan, these platforms don't have issues."

Swallowing the lump that formed in his throat, Declan looked up and explained, "There's only a single reason why the crystal glows red, and we all know what it is."

"Stay here, Declan," Brielle commanded as she nodded her head. She abruptly spun away from Declan and raced off towards the captain of the colonization ship.

She raced through the corridors as fast as she could, and she just managed to avoid all of the tight corners and the occasional colonist roaming the halls. She ran until she eventually came to the new colony's civic center. The captain always worked from there while they established a new world for the Federation.

Once she found the right doors, she paused outside so she could catch her breath. When she was able to breathe naturally, she opened the door, and her eyes immediately found the captain. She walked up to him and reported her dire news. "Captain Quinn, something has happened to the homeworld."

Confusion settled into the captain's face with her words prompting him to ask, "Brielle, what are you going on about?"

"The platform's crystal is glowing red, sir."

The captain's face went white as he began to process those words. He looked at Brielle and with great hesitation sought confirmation. "Red, you're sure?"

"Yes, sir," Brielle answered as she forced a lump down her throat.

Quinn lifted a hand and snapped a finger as he cried out, "Connor!"

A man poked his head into the room, saying, "Yes, sir?"

Quinn looked at the young man and commanded, "Get my portable communication pack, we need to raise homeworld."

"Yes, sir." the disembodied head replied.

"Connor, I wanted it here an hour ago understood?"

"Yes, sir." The man responded as his head disappeared, letting the door fall closed behind him.

Quinn looked at Brielle and tapped his fingers on his desk. She hesitantly watched his fingers as they continued their dance upon the wooden surface, but she slowly averted her gaze to his solemn and scared eyes. "Sir, has anything like this ever happened before?"

Quinn looked up and stared into her eyes as he answered, "No, no one has, but we all know what it means." He saw the unease behind her eyes, so he offered her what little comfort he could. "This could be a glitch on homeworld's platform. All we know is we cannot connect to this platform's twin back home. They could have taken it offline."

Before Brielle could say anything, the door flew open and Connor came in with the portable communication device placing it on the desk and stepping away, allowing Quinn access to the device. Quinn quickly configured the device to communicate with the homeworld and tried to connect. When the first attempt failed, he made other attempts, but each failed. Faltering Quinn attempted to connect to other worlds in the Federation. And with each failed attempt to contact other colonized planets, the fear behind Quinn's eyes grew.

Quinn looked between Connor and Brielle and spoke at them both, "Go fetch Caitlin and the other senior colonists. We'll need to come to a decision."