“But what will happen to humanity if it’s dispersed across numerous planetary systems?”  Oma wasn’t sure if it was the idea that unsettled her, or the simple fact that for the first time in her life she was walking on solid ground and breathing a natural atmosphere.

She wasn’t even sure why she had been selected to be part of this committee.  Yes, she was the captain of the first interstellar ship to make contact with an alien species … except the humans were the outsiders in this part of the universe, which technically made them the aliens….

“It’s not so different from being divided among eight ships.”  Her son-in-law, Jeron, smirked as he glanced toward her and shrugged.

Jeron and Kirati had convinced her to accompany them to an outside patio – for lack of a better word – as part of taking a momentary break from their consultation with the Bavphet.  The outdoor terrace overlooked a range of multiple islands stretched in a crooked line across a turquoise ocean.

“And this is what our ancestors hoped for.”  Kirati smiled as she swirled her drink, a pale blue, luminescent tea native to this planet.  Oma had never met her before yesterday since they were from different ships, but quickly learned the svelte history keeper was game to sample any cuisine verified safe for human consumption.

Oma gave them credit for convincing her to step outside the multifaceted building constructed from stone that reminded her of obsidian – or rather, of pictures she’d seen of obsidian.  She’d spent her whole life of nearly fifty years on a spaceship.  And while she appreciated the agricultural tracts maintained by keepers like Jeron, the lack of containment and airlocks on the planet’s surface proved to be a bit disconcerting….

“It was one of many possibilities.”  She leveled her gaze on Kirati.  “They also knew they might never find a planet that would sustain them.”

Jeron raised his dun arms toward the azure sky.  “And yet, look.”  He turned in a slow circle.  “The parameters for life seem to be universal.  Yes, oxygen and nitrogen levels vary a bit, but the elemental cycles are still present.”

Kirati’s green eyes stayed locked on her face.  “I don’t believe it’s coincidence we stumbled upon the Bavphet when we did.”

“Yes, finding this interplanetary alliance is fortuitous.”  Oma didn’t shift her focus.  “But we haven’t even seen the other available worlds.  Leastways, not it real life.  And you of all people should be aware of potential cultural conflicts, history keeper.”

Kirati smiled and shifted her attention to Jeron.  “You’re right.  She’s tenacious.”

Oma frowned at him, somewhat in jest.  “Sowing discord instead of crops?”

“Far from it.”  He grinned.  “I was pointing out what a dedicated captain you are.”

“Your viewpoint is in the minority.”  Kirati sipped from her tea, and then leaned against a knotty tree, one of several dotting the rosy flagstone.  “Our ancestors anticipated such an attitude, which is why they established keepers to perpetuate a fascination for the ecology of Earth and the desire to return to that lifestyle.”

“I understand most people embrace that desire.”  Considering her associates were around twenty years younger than her, Oma could grasp why they didn’t share the security she felt on board a ship.

Jeron shrugged.  “But that doesn’t make you obsolete.”

“Quite the contrary.”  Kirati nodded.  “Those who feel more space-bound would be ideal for shuttling between the colonies.  You would in essence be the glue that helps hold humanity together.”

She locked her gaze on the young woman again.  As a captain, she was accustomed to remaining calm even though this discussion caused her stomach to flutter.

“You’re talking as though we’ve already decided to merge with the natives of all the available planets.”

Kirati tilted her head to one side.  “I know you resist the idea … but you’ve got to admit there is no other alternative.”

“These Bavphet are technological geniuses.  They solved our communication barrier, for crying out loud.  They’ve already unified the sciences of other worlds, allowing the systems to live independently while working with each other.  They can help us rebuild our ships, modernize our equipment–”

“Forgive me, Captain.”  Jeron clasped his hands together.  “But you are ignoring the fact humanity – and the flora and fauna we brought with us – really isn’t designed for long-term space habitation.  Despite technology and medicine, we face challenges to keep surviving in ways that won’t erase our very humanity.”

She knew when her oldest daughter brought this guy home that he didn’t allow rank to intimidate him, and his reference to her rank signaled he was keeping this discussion on the professional level.

Somehow, that didn’t sit right with her.

“Our adaptability is a herald of humanity.  That’s how we made it this far.”

“And this is far enough.”  Kirati raised her glass.  “It’s time to return to terra firma, generally speaking.”

“Is that why you brought me out here?  To convince me to favor colonization on the available planets?  It sounds like my opinion is already outnumbered.”

Jeron drew a deep breath and slowly exhaled before replying.  “Oma, you’re right.  It’s inevitable that colonization will take place.  And it’s inevitable conflicts will arise with the natives.  They’re accustomed to interacting with each other, but not to living with each other.”

“And that’s where you come in.”  Kirati nodded.  “We’re considering several planets, not just a planet, because it lessens the socio-political strain for the inhabitants of this sector.”

“Your concerns are completely valid.”  Jeron folded his arms over his chest.  “And that’s why we need somebody like you to remain on neutral ground.”  He tilted his head and smirked.  “Or rather, neutral space.”

Was this supposed to be some kind of joke?  She was a captain of an interstellar ship, not a counselor or arbitrator.  Their suggestion made as much sense as the court’s appointing her to participate in this committee….

Hmm, everybody knew she resisted the idea of colonization.  And it wasn’t just the big picture that disconcerted her.  Humanity mingling with various aliens … natives … whatever … meant she had something more personal at stake.

“You’re threatening to break up my family.”  Oma locked her gaze on his face.

His mouth shifted into that smile her daughter claimed was one of the aspects she found appealing about him.  “It’s true we’re thinking Dea sounds like a nice planet to settle on.  But it’s not like we’re encouraging all her siblings to move in with us.”

She glanced toward Kirati, who had the good sense to examine a bug-like creature on one of the tree’s chartreuse leaves, perhaps wondering if it cooked up as a tasty treat.

“It would be the best of both worlds for you, or rather, world and space.”  He nodded.  “You can visit any time.  And rest assured, if you ever tire of flying among the stars, you’re welcome to land with us.”

Oma had to shift her gaze to the ocean for a few seconds.  Waves crashed against the craggy islands, expending most of their energy on the barrier that protected the shoreline.  By the time they reached the pebbly beach below where she and her associates stood, the pulsing water lapped among the stones.

Maybe it would all work out….

Her attention returned to Jeron.  “You’re trying to put ideas into my head.”

His smile broadened.  “I know better than to confront you directly.”

###

Here is this month’s contribution to #BlogBattle, and this time the word is Merge.  Be sure to check out the other submissions and discover how these stories come together to serve the noble purpose of writing encouragement!

• 

“You will not find a more potent hypnotic,” Samiya purred as she offered Rhys the open jar.

He reached for it, but she slipped it back toward her chest.  Her full, burgundy lips curled in a demure smile, and her coffee irises seemed to glow from a hidden ember.  Rhys had trouble determining her age, and that enigma only confirmed her identity.

“I can’t examine it?”

“Look.  Do not touch.”  Again she extended her arm, slender and reminiscent of silky chocolate.  “Mere contact is enough to trigger an altered state.”

The drab, patinous powder filled two-thirds of the pint jar.  It was unremarkable compared to the dried plants and animal parts that hung from the beams of – for lack of a better term – her hut.  Constructed from canvas and hide and lumber and mud brick, it was a syncretism of modern and ancient architecture, blending into the arid landscape.

Her shop of horrors, located beyond sight from the town, was close enough for wayfarers to stumble upon.  Even now children played nearby in the cool of morning, their shouts muffled but clear.

And his investigating partner, Kazim, hid nearby, waiting for the quarry they truly sought.  Although native to this country, he determined Rhys should be the one to contact Samiya.  She would be less suspicious of him since he looked like just another khawarja, white guy, and was good at coming across as a witless wonder.

Kazim had a way with words.

“Hypnosis has its limitations.”  His gaze returned to her face, and in spite of himself admired her even, sculpted features framed in coiled, black tresses.  “You can’t, for instance, compel a pacifist to kill.”

Her lids lowered and lips pouted.  “What is it you desire?”

“I need complete control.”

The satisfaction of her smile made Mona Lisa look grumpy.  “Then you find what you seek.  All you need do is adjust the dosage.  A pinch renders the subject susceptible to suggestion.  A handful will make him submit to any whim.  Any more than that will cause unconsciousness.”

“How long until it takes effect?”

“A matter of seconds.”  Samiya tilted her head, which seemed to accentuate the gracefulness of her neck.  “This is my own recipe, perfected only recently.”

“Did your husband help you develop it?”

Her smile became impish, like a little girl caught lurking outside the boy’s locker room.  Her free hand glided from her shoulder to the wrist, and the tips of her delicate fingers rippled over an ornate bracelet of gold and shimmering stones.

“I have no husband.”

Despite the sultriness of her action, his acuity snapped into high gear.  That bracelet was not what it appeared.

She’d just summoned the husband she denied.  Okie-doke, two could play at that game.

“Oh, come now.”  Rhys shrugged as he rubbed the back of his neck, enabling him to tap the alert button on the communication device lodged behind his ear.  “Surely a sweetie like you needs more than some noxious potions to keep the wolves at bay?”

Her smile implied that whoever claimed flattery would get you nowhere had never tried it.  “The men around here know what is good for them.  They want their children to explore the hills and gather herbs they can sell me.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Poverty is a taskmaster.  But I control that condition, which makes me their ultimate master.”

Her admission was as startling as a used-car salesman proclaiming he peddled lemons.  Then again, that boldness was probably bolstered by expectation of her husband’s arrival.

“But what about your customers from beyond these borders?”

The curtain in the doorway rustled, and since Kazim hadn’t alerted him their quarry was on the way, Rhys only glanced toward the disturbance.  A local boy, maybe around ten years old, focused on Samiya as he stepped inside, perhaps hoping to sell her herbs.  Rhys returned his attention to the woman.

His subconscious twitched.

His gaze shot back to the lad, who glared at him with amber, swirling eyes and slit pupils.

Knickers – she hadn’t summoned her husband, but her son.

The preternatural offspring sprang forward, hissing, and at a height above Rhys’s head.  With a similar but lower spring, Rhys slammed into the wall behind the woman.  A Zulu-style shield hanging where he collided crashed to the floor of packed earth.

The boy landed on the spot Rhys just vacated.  With a rumble reminiscent of a crocodile’s growl, he raised a dagger probably in his clutches since entering the hut.

Rhys snatched the shield with his left hand, and with the right drew a pulser – like a pistol that fired charges – from his pocket.  He’d rather not shoot–

Gritty powder struck the left side of his face, a tangible reminder Samiya was nearby, and adept at flinging contents in jars.  A greenish cloud stung his eyes and an acrid aroma burned his nostrils.  He stopped inhaling, although the damage was already done.

His head swam.

Kazim burst through the doorway, pulser drawn.  And – like any good man upon spying a woman and a child – hesitated.

The boy spun around and lunged in a low tackle toward his new prey.

A peep cracked from Kazim’s pulser as a wad of light hurtled just over the boy’s shoulder.  The projectile flashed as it struck the wall between Rhys and Samiya.  The so-called lad nearly succeeded in slashing Kazim as he struck, but the man deflected the blow with an arm sweep and kick.

His knees wobbled as Rhys hurled the shield toward their attacker.  He tried to aim low enough to disable the boy, but the room seemed to spin around him and he struggled to avoid falling forward from his own momentum.

As the shield struck the assailant’s head, blood splattered toward Kazim as Rhys dropped to his knees.  No, he hadn’t meant to throw with that much force … and because it was impossible for a mere human to execute, he’d betrayed his identity.

He collapsed to the floor.

“Traitor!” Samiya screeched, and from the corner of his bleary vision he spied her lunge toward him, a larger knife in her grip.

A flash of light struck her as a peep cracked from Kazim’s position.  Rhys’s vision darkened but he believed he heard her strike the wall.

Well, that went poorly was his final, conscious thought.

*****

“Don’t sit up too fast.”  Kazim’s baritone voice seemed to emanate from the acacia trees that surrounded them.

Rhys welcomed the warning since the world still felt like it was spinning faster than usual.  He preferred to not leap to his feet, ready to defend himself.

“Oh … what a night.”  As he propped up on elbows from his supine position, he noted they were nowhere near the hut, but in a dusty field dotted by trees.

His heart dropped when he spied only Kazim step closer to him.  No prisoners.  There was no question Samiya’s son didn’t survive the blow to the head, but he’d hoped his partner would be able to detain the woman.

Rhys inched into sitting up.  “Where’s Samiya?”

“I had plenty of time to dispose of the bodies.”  Kazim folded his arms, his left wrist bandaged with white cloth.  “You’ve been out for hours.”

“That doesn’t exactly answer my question.”  He had a nagging suspicion that if Kazim told him to go roll in rhinoceros dung, he might just do it, and not to symbolically express his opinion of how this takedown went.

“I don’t know if she turned the knife on herself or just cut herself accidentally, but she was already dying when I got to her.  That blade was poisoned.”

“Looks like it was lucky for you her son’s knife wasn’t spiked, also.”

Kazim shrugged.  “It might be lucky for you they’re both dead.  If word got out who you really are, your career as a Tracker will get cut short.”

Rhys pressed his fingers against his temple and rubbed, hoping that would make the spinning slow enough for him to stand.  “Finding our target will be harder with her out of the picture … and I really wish I hadn’t wasted his son.”

Kazim raised an eyebrow as a corner of his mouth curled up.  “You’re a hopeless optimist.  That creature would have never turned to our side.”

“Stranger things have happened.”  Nope, the world still seemed to have somewhere to go and was in a hurry to get there.  “And I’m not just speaking from personal experience.”

“Speaking of personal experience, this whole fiasco is going to be a truckload of fun to explain to the elders.”

Was it focusing on Kazim that helped to steady the swoon … or contemplating the reality of what his associate just said?  Maybe he’d rather go roll in rhino excrement….

“And you claim I’m the one who’s always the optimist.”

###

Here is my contribution to this month’s #BlogBattle, and the word this round is Hypnotic.  Be sure to check out the other stories!

• 

This had to be the shiniest battle cruiser Abbot Bydar had ever seen.  It was true he’d never seen a battle cruiser before, but an air transport this gleaming, with no dents or stains marring any portion of its exterior, could only be brand new.  This must be the first time it was deployed.

The Voratene colonel that held a blaster pointed at him was a different story, however.

The crusty commander was two-thirds the abbot’s height, which was typical in regard to Voratenes and humans.  His width was nearly half his height, which was also a characteristic of the race.  The brown uniform and armor that covered him were dull and scuffed.  And the warty protuberances that covered his broad face were testament to years of maturity.

Humans tended to compare the Voratene appearance to toads, which Bydar always thought was a bit unfair.  He liked toads.  They were placid, and beneficial in the garden, although you did have to be careful when picking them up or they might pee all over you.

“Search him.”  The colonel’s command was stated in his native language, but the translator Bydar wore on his wrist allowed them to communicate.

“Really, now.”  The abbot raised his arms so they pointed out straight from his sides.  Two of the thirty Voratene soldiers behind the colonel stepped forward to frisk him, their calloused hands rough through the ecru shirt and gray slacks that he wore.

“We are a religious community,” he continued as they patted him down.  “That means nobody here will strike the first blow.”

He spoke of a form of belief that was, well, alien to the Voratene.  But hopefully the commander understood the insinuation that if his troops assaulted anybody, the residents here would defend all that was precious.

“You cannot guarantee that.”  The colonel’s eyes narrowed.  Other races in the system had noted that when it came to attitude, Voratene and humanity could be rather similar.  And unfortunately that comparison did seem fair.

“The inhabitants under my administration are obedient to the rule.”  Bydar knew to keep his verbiage as material as possible for the colonel to best understand him.  “And the visitors are only here to conduct commerce.”

There was no mistaking the commander’s toothy sneer.  “So you admit to sheltering fugitives.”

His heart skipped a beat.  Earlier today they learned the Voratene committed an act of genocide that staggered the imagination.  When their interstellar ships abruptly entered other planetary systems and immediately dispatched cruisers into the atmosphere, terror struck many inhabitants.  The peace they’d known ever since the confederation was founded had apparently died with the Bavphet.

And the Voratene must be looking for any Bavphet that happened to be on another planet during the annihilation.

“No weapons,” one of the friskers announced as they retreated to their colonel.  Bydar had made it a point to not only meet them alone, which stole any excuse for them to neutralize any perceived threat, but also eschew carrying so much as a medallion on his person.

“Relinquish the fugitives, and we will refrain from demolishing this place.”  The commander locked his gaze on Bydar.

His heart hammered now, but he managed to keep a calm tone.  “There are only humans and Juriki on our grounds.”

“Juriki?  Why would Juriki enter a human lair?”

“This is their planet.”  Obvious answers caused his stomach to flutter….

“So I see.”  That toothy sneer reestablished itself.  “They allowed vermin like you to settle here in order to cloak their own conspiracies.  We always knew the systems that agreed to harbor humanity were plotting conquests of their own.”

“That’s not true.”  Another obvious response, but he couldn’t alter the trajectory of this conversation in an instant.  The Voratene had made up their mind on what they would find here.  And they made that determination because they’d devised conspiracies of conquest while building shiny, new battle cruisers under cover of their own cloaks.

“Hold him,” the colonel murmured, and the two friskers strode back to Bydar to clasp his arms and twist them behind his back.

He gulped a deep breath as the soldiers looped a universal cuff that adapted to different races around his wrists.  “No one here has committed any crime.”

“You have not relinquished fugitives.”  The commander glanced back at his troops.  “Search the premises!”

They surged into the open gate of the rock wall that surrounded the abbey grounds.  Except for the colorful, tropical native foliage that grew around them, the structures looked much like their predecessors in ancient photographs from Earth.  And the Voratene squadron did remind him of historical footage of attacking hordes bursting into a village.

“Please, there are families in the community.  Babies.  Elderly.  Everybody will cooperate if you only ask.  We have nothing to hide.  We will take you anywhere, show you anything—”

Shouting started with the Voratene, and then human and Juriki responded.

The colonel smirked.  “If you are as ill prepared as you appear, you deserve to be wiped out.  It’s no wonder all these other races are so inferior.  They have a foolish regard for the insufficient.”

A couple of blaster reports echoed from behind the wall.  Bydar gritted his teeth as a swift but fervent prayer flashed through his mind.

He had been such a fool.  He had been arrogant enough to believe that if he behaved correctly with the Voratene, if he said the right things, they would pass through here without incident.  Instead, he had been too careless about trying to pick up this vile toad … and there was no telling how many others would pay for his mistake.

More blaster firing mixed in with the shouts.  Bydar tried to step closer to the gate, but barely got any forward momentum before he was hurtled backwards by the two soldiers.  Not quite as spry in his middle forties, he slammed to the ground on his right buttock and completed the crash on his shoulder.

Much of his right side throbbed as he tried to scramble to his feet.  One of the guards struck him in the other shoulder just before he succeeded.  Bydar tumbled again, but this time managed to land in a kneeling position.

“It seems to me nobody is as cooperative as you claimed.”  The colonel leered.

“These people are no threat to you!  Please—”

The receiver attached to the commander’s helmet crackled on.  “The humans are retreating.  Shall we pursue?”

He seemed to ponder the inquiry for a couple of seconds before responding.  “No.  We have more important targets.”

The relief that washed through Bydar almost soothed his aching joints.  Good, the residents remembered that if the community was ever attacked, the first thing they should do is run.  If they were captured or killed immediately, they would never be able to fight….

The blaster fire slowed.  Some soldiers began trickling out, and Bydar’s heart thumped again as five Juriki were dragged out one by one.  Even though they were nearly twice as tall as the Voratene, with slender limbs sporting various shades of green, they were also cuffed and shoved around by the stout soldiers.

At least they were alive, and the blast fire ceased….

Two more Juriki were carried out and dumped on the ground in front of their comrades.  His relief evaporated.

“No!”  Bydar began scrambling to his feet again.

The first frisker lunged forward and thrust the butt of his blaster into the abbot’s right cheek.  The blow sent him tumbling back to the hard ground.

He wasn’t sure if the light that flashed over his sight was from impact with the blaster or the ground, but as he tried to catch his breath and regain his bearings, he managed to notice somebody stepped to his side.

The colonel leaned into his vision as it returned.  “Who are those Juriki to you?”

“They are – were – living beings.”  He rolled to his side, but didn’t yet feel capable of lifting himself from the ground.

“Juriki scum were the first to align with the Bavphet when they began their invasion of other systems.  They share more with the intruders than with you.”

Determined not to face this commander while lying on the ground, Bydar forced himself back into a kneeling position.  The Bavphet never invaded anybody.  All the systems had joined the confederation by choice – even the Voratene, although it was apparent now they had ulterior motives.

“All life is precious.”  Perhaps it was because his head was swimming that his voice cracked.

“Spoken like a true coward.”  The colonel pointed his blaster only decimeters from Bydar’s forehead.  “So let us hear you beg for your life.”

Indignant heat surged through him as he locked his gaze on the Voratene’s face.  This being had swooped in, proclaiming terror and death, and reviled all that was truth.  There was no way Bydar was going to give this fiend the satisfaction of seeing him so much as flinch.

But wait….

This was not the way he wanted to go, and it wasn’t just by murder.  If he truly valued all life, then he should pity this wayward being that believed wealth and power were the values to strive for.  This was the Voratene way of attempting to fill a hole they’d created.  Bydar focused his gaze on the colonel’s eyes, and tried, tried not to hate him.

The peace that descended upon him was as startling in its swiftness as it was in its thoroughness.  Although it seemed selfish in a way, he was grateful for it.  This was the way he would prefer to go.

The commander must have been waiting for him to break.  What was surely only seconds seemed to stretch into minutes.  It made sense that at the very end of his life he would have a taste of eternity….

A frown furrowed those warty brows.  With a shrug that Bydar wasn’t certain he’d seen, the colonel lowered his blaster and turned toward a soldier that had approached.

“We’ve searched the premises, Sir.  None of the quarry is present.  Do you want to pursue the humans now?”

He glanced back toward Bydar.  “The humans are a waste of resources.  Advance to the next target.”

What just happened?  The abbot stared at the reassembling troops as his two guards removed the cuffs from him.  Even the surviving Juriki were released, and then ignored as much as he was as the Voratene marched back to their battle cruiser.

Three of the Juriki gave attention to their fallen comrades, but two approached Bydar with long strides.

“Can you get up?” one asked.

He didn’t need the translator anymore.  His whole life had been on this planet, so he spoke several of the local dialects.

His whole life … had been spared.

But why?

“I think so.”  They helped steady him as he shuffled to his feet.  “Thank you.”

The rumble of engines preceded the cruiser moving away, gliding through the air to inflict terror and death somewhere else.  Their corner of the universe had been plunged into darkness, and this was how their lives would be lived for the unforeseeable future.

The colonel must have wanted to see him cringe … or maybe blast the rage right off his face.  It was possible that having been denied that satisfaction, the commander decided to find it elsewhere….

Or he could return and try again….

Bydar watched the cruiser fly away.  It probably wouldn’t take long for its coat to dull and its surface become soiled.  Such was the way of material treasures.

A certainty settled upon him.  Even if it wasn’t until long after that brand new battle cruiser rotted away, the Voratene rule could not endure forever.  The spirit of freedom was as ancient as life itself, a gift from eternity, despite those who wanted to seize it from others.  Eventually it triumphed … every time.

Bydar kneeled again.

###

This is my contribution this month to #BlogBattle, and this time the prompt word is Precious.  Yes, I mean Precious is the word, not that the word itself is precious….

And with a word that precious, be sure to check out the other entries!