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Angelus's Journal


Angelus's Journal

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1 entry this month
 

Safe Is A Concept

21:53 Dec 22 2018
Times Read: 415


The small planetoid was big enough to have gravity and that pleased the pilot who lay upon it, eyes gazing at the firefight that continued unabated high above, without him.

The first shot had torn through his Starfires hull, severing his connection to the small crafts air-supply. Thankfully he carried his own supply, as he always did, going into conflict.

It had saved his life.

But, the second shot destroyed what had remained of his shielding and any manoeuvrability that the Starfire possessed and Brian Treloar had plummeted downward in a spiral that he had found impossible to get out of.

Before the craft had struck the barren rock, Brian had ejected. Yet his suit had taken damage, as he had 'landed'. Now, there was very little he could, except lie on his back and observe the sky above him and, the source of death, for so many 'common grunts', just like him.

But these men and women felt they had no choice.

Like many, Treloar abhorred being unemployed, but there were few real jobs for Earthers on their homeworld, with robots performing many tasks that humans had, years prior. But robots were considered cheap labour; so an Earther had to leave Homeworld, if one wanted to find employ.

Brian Treloar had done that, using the tech-based skills he'd earned on numerous courses, to get into pilot school and, from there the skies were his option, or so he'd been led to believe.

In truth, the only jobs he could find were on a merchantman, out on the fringe, or as one of the many young men joining one of the many flight wings, operated by one of the corporations.

Out on the fringe exploration for greater mineral wealth was costly as piracy and warring with the various corporations was the norm and, a flight wing and battlecraft often accompanied the corporations exploration craft.

Brian had been flying as part of a small unit within the wing, when they had been struck upon by a rival corporation battlecraft, The Intimidation.

As Brian had ejected from his Starfire, he'd almost grinned, thinking how apt the enemy crafts name had been and then, there had been blackness.

When finally he awoke there were eyes watching him, from a distance; and the eyes were not human, nor even humanoid.

Although the helmets visor was cracked, his vision was not so impaired that as he turned his head to the right he could see eyes looking at him from the base of a slanted moss-covered rock.

Originally from Britain, one of the worlds hottest countries, Brian had seen many things that could bite or inject venom, into a man.

Now, here he was looking at a black, segmented creature with a large head and very large eyes. It also had antennae and, for a brief second Brian thought of a common soldier ant, except that this particular insect was the size of a medium-size dog. And, it was watching him.

No entomologist, Brian eyed the creature and debated whether it would do as he believed it might and he tried to grin.

If there was a serious choice as to whether or not this creature would lay eggs in him before or after he died, he hoped it would be after.
He tried to smile at the thought, but could not...

Looking at the creature, he debated whether it would lay eggs in him, or simply eat him, after all it was big enough to tear him apart, if it chose.

“I'll die here and never see my Mom,” he muttered, with distinct regret.
She had given him everything she could and, right now he found it difficult to recall her face. That pained him.

So, with effort, Brian lifted his heavily gloved hand and reached upward to his top left pocket, where an old photograph covered in perspex lay.
He pulled the battered image out and held the perspex as delicately as his gloved hands would allow.

He held the picture so that he before his visor so that ideally, her face would be the last thing he saw, before he died.

Yet, Brian might have grinned again... if he had realised that the insect was telepathic and, although it was looking for a host for it's young, it quickly dismissed this two-legged one. It loved it's Mother.

And it was touched, by this one's thoughts that it read, while it watched.
It was as Brian looked on his Mothers picture that the creature reached out to the others of it's kind.

Gradually the minds met and melded, with one voice asking the others, 'Please help me save the two-legged one...'

There was doubt at first, she knew there would be. Yet, her people were kind she believed and so they would help. 'They must, he loves his Mother.'

Her entreaty had been heard by the many, who allowed her to speak for them all.
Then, as the gestalt entity garnered it's strength together, her voice spoke.

She spoke to those of this one's kind, on a large vessel, The Tibor and all onboard heard her worlds: 'There is one of you on our home; he wants his home. If you do not come for him, we will shred the minds of all who hear us.'

It sounded like a threat to those who chose to hear it as such, yet as the voice finished speaking, co-ordinates appeared on the navigators console, much to his puzzlement.

Then she spoke again, 'You have been given the opportunity to save your kin. This one suggests that you take it.'

The captain of The Tibor was not a stupid man. He had heard...

And, having done as intended, the 'critter-crawler' turned it's head from Brian and began to walk away, on it's many legs.

Then just before the creature was gone from his view, it turned its head to look at Brian once more and he wondered what it was thinking... as she hoped he would see his Mother again.


The End.


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