Chapter V of Lands Beyond

     A mellow light flickered on, amply illuminating the space before me. I was amazed at the difference. Where there had once been merely a couple chairs and a bench, there was now an entire living area. A comfortable sofa sat where the bench had been, with two arm chairs across from it with a low table between them.

     On the other side sat a small dining table with a few stools shoved underneath it. Next to it was a small cooling unit, a sink, cupboards, and a stove. At least, it sure looked like one and probably worked about the same way.

     A ladder next to me caught my eye and I climbed up it. I could almost stand upright in this new cargo space. A door stood partially open at the other end and I crossed over and pushed it open the rest of the way. This was the bedroom. It even had a small bathroom connected to it, which was quite a blessing.

     I climbed back down and went to investigate the cockpit.

     It looked much the same, but I could tell that the level of sophistication had been raised astonishingly high. I sat down in the pilot’s seat and pulled up the schematics of the shuttle. As I had suspected, quite a bit had been changed. The computer helpfully pulled up before and after design sheets of the operating systems. Surprised, I stammered out a thank you.

     “You are welcome.” The computer replied.

     I was soon engrossed in my study and did not notice the arrival of the commander. I was firing questions at the computer when I heard him clear his throat behind me. I spun around and stared up at him. He was frowning, as usual. He growled something and jerked his head towards the outer door.

     “He said, ‘Come on.’” The computer supplied.

     I folded my arms. “I don’t think so, buster. Not until you have told me what you did to my ship.”

     The computer translated this to him. From the surprised look that he shot towards the control panel, I figured that he had not known about this ability that the computer had somehow acquired.

     “Your systems were extremely outdated.” He said slowly.

     I nodded. “I know that. I had limited resources and little real knowledge of what I was doing.”

     He quirked an eyebrow, but made no comment. “We were… curious, and decided to take a closer look. We could understand very little of it, however. I wanted to see how you felt towards this creation of yours. I must admit that you surprised me with the depth of your feelings.

     “I instructed my mechanics to put it back together and improve it if they could. They finished it yesterday. I did not know what had been done until this morning when they told me of this defense mechanism.”

     “You mean the force-field?” I asked.

     “Yes. I assumed that you had set something in place and that is why I was so upset with you.”

     “No offense, but you seem to be upset with me all of the time.”

     His only response to this was a grunt. I continued. “Furthermore, while my ship does hold great sentimental value to me, my main concern was being able to find my way back to where I came from. I do not know what has been done to this shuttle, and I do not know why it has these new capabilities. I am just relieved to know that there is now a way that we can communicate with each other, although I would like to learn your language.”

     At first, it seemed as if he would not reply, and then he turned to me. “Brunhilda. Is that your name?”

     “Yes, it is.”

     “Ah, I see. Well then, I suppose it is only right that I give you my name in return. I am Leuven Rhys Makkedah, commander of the Burning Starlight.”

     I smiled and held out my hand. “It is a pleasure to formally meet you, Commander Makkedah.”

     We shook hands and he rose to go, mentioning that I could stay as long as I liked. I thanked him, waiting until he was gone before I went back to learning more about the upgrades on the ship.

Chewing on Deception

     Draven spent the next few days avoiding the knights until he could put it off no longer. He was taking wood into the dining area when he heard Bard talking to Sir Daivi, one of the knights.

    “Aye, I know a guide.” He said. “One of the best around. He knows these mountains like the back of his hand, ifin anyone can find this castle then he can. Ah, here he is now.” He turned to Draven and gestured him over. “This is Draven, the best tracker around.”

     Draven stepped over and bowed to Sir Daivi. “I am at your service, my lord.” As he stood up he noticed that the knight didn’t take his eyes off of him. He shook it off and nodded to Bard as he pulling his hood further over his face and stepped out into the cold morning air.

     “I’m not a tracker!” He whispered to Bard when he caught him in the kitchen later. “And I don’t know these mountains at all.”

     Bard grinned. “But they don’t need to know that. Here let me show you something.” He took an old book out from under his cloak and set it on the table. He flipped it open to reveal a map of the Melltith Mountains. At the far bottom corner was Nazov. “That Pellaus fellow wasn’t the only one who had an ancestor who kept track of what happened. This map will lead you straight to the castle.”

     Draven picked up the thousand year old map and studied it. “I suppose it can’t be that hard to find.”

     “That’s the spirit!” Bard said cheerfully. “Oh, you should probably know, they believe you’re a mage.”

     The next morning the five knights mounted their chargers and left with much fanfare. Draven followed behind them some distance on his quiet, sure footed, mountain pony. He soon found that the knights were quite terrified of him, believing that he would curse them if they made him angry. Most of this was due to his unwillingness to engage any of them in conversation. None of this bothered him, however, since he preferred to travel on his own. He had found from his travels that while knighthood looked glamorous most knights weren’t very bright.

     It took them six days of steady traveling before they came upon an old village. The stone walls were crumbling and the thatched roofs had all but disintegrated. Draven’s pony snorted and eyeballed the buildings warily.  

     “This looks as good a place as any.” Sir Pellaus declared. “We shall make camp here and depart on the marrow.”

     A shiver ran up Draven’s spine as he scanned the buildings. His eyes came to rest on the charred remains of a wagon that lay on its side next to what used to be the church. “Innocent people died here.” He said. “We should move on.”

     Sir Pellaus opened his mouth to protest but Sir Davai shot him a look. “We should do as the mage says lest he curse us all.” He not so quietly whispered.

     Sir Pellaus grunted. “Very well then, we shall continue on.” He briskly spun his horse around and galloped out of the village.

     Draven scanned the village once more before following them. But he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that had settled in the pit of his stomach.

A bite of Deception

 “What do you make of ‘em?” Tom asked as they scooped hay down to the horses.

     “Well, they’re different that’s for sure.” Draven said. “But by the looks of ‘em they’ll pay good an’ I bet ‘ole Bard is already spinning new tales of their daring deeds.”

     And so he was. When Draven and Tom came back in they found the five knights sitting in front of the fire, drinking ale and laughing gaily. At least half of the town sat in the small dining area of the inn listening with rapt attention to the handsome knight as he told a tale of how he single handedly slew a dragon with nothing but a broken sword and his wits to protect him.

    “If he had just his wits to protect him then I’m surprised that he’s still alive.” Someone said. Draven turned to see Astrid standing next to him with another round of ale in her hands. “They’ve been at it for hours and I fear there’s no chance of them stopping until morning.”

     “Aye, they do seem to like to talk.” Draven said.

     “Still, he is rather handsome. Don’t you think?” Astrid asked as she gazed at the tall knight dreamily.

     Draven resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “A handsome face does you no good if you have nothing to back it up.”

      “Aye, that be true enough.” Astrid said as she glided into the dining room and set the ale on the table next to the knights. Draven scanned the room until he saw Bard sitting in the corner and hanging onto every word that was being said. Draven sat next to him and listened with half hearted interest to more of the knights’ fantastic tales.

    “What brings you to these mountains?” The innkeeper asked later that night when things had settled down some.

     Sir Pellaus leaned back in his chair and stared into the fire for several minutes before he spoke. “Let me tell one final tale this night.” He said in a low voice. “Long ago, in these very mountains, there lived a great king. He ruled over a peaceful kingdom and for many years they lived in happiness; but happiness is never meant to last. For the peace of this kingdom was hard won with many a sacrifice. The king made many enemies, especially in a king from the south.

     “Now this king had heard about the fairness and beauty of the mountain kings daughter and wanted her for his own. He offered half of his kingdoms riches as well as never ending trade between the two countries in exchange for the girls hand in marriage. But the mountain king refused, for she was already engaged to a prince from the lowlands.  

     “Angered, the southern king sent his mightiest sorceress to lay a curse on the princess and her father. The sorceress set them and the whole castle into a deep sleep from which they would never awaken, except by true loves first kiss; for true love, she believed, didn’t exist.

     “And so, with the gates of the castle sealed tight, the people from the surrounding towns and villages left to seek their fortunes in the lower lands. And no one has dared venture near there in hundreds of years. In fact many have forgotten that it even exists. However there still is one family that remembers. My ancestor was the prince that was betrothed to the princess and the story has been passed down from generation to generation in the hopes that someday someone will be able to rescue the princess and restore honor to the family’s name. Now it has come my turn to search for this lost kingdom and reclaim my rightful inheritance.” Upon finishing Sir Pellaus declared that they would stay in Nazov for three more days before resuming their quest. They soon retired to their rooms and the dining area slowly emptied as everyone headed back to their homes.

     “What do you make of it, lad?” Bard asked when they were alone.

     “I think they’re fantastic tales made to make them sound brave when in fact they’re all selfish cowards.” Draven said.

     “Of course they are, lad, that’s what all the old heroes were. See, its bards like me who make them great.” He pulled on his pipe then blew smoke rings to the ceiling. “But alas, this is one adventure that I am unable to go on. Nay, I need someone young and strong to go for me and tell me exactly what happens.” He glanced at Draven out of the corner of his eye. “You wouldn’t know anyone willing to help an old friend out, would you?” He casually leaned forward and dumped the ashes from his pipe into the fire.

     Draven sighed. “Very well. I’ll go, even though I believe it to be a fool’s quest.”

     Bard grinned and leaned back in his chair. “Aren’t they all, lad? Aren’t they all.”

Chapter Four of A Reporters Nightmare

     Aragon felt himself being dumped onto the floorboards and wished that he had spent longer cleaning his pickup out. He landed on his metal Yeti cup and it dug into his side.

     The men threw their wet coats over him and the man in the back propped his feet up in a casual manner on Aragon’s back.

     Smoky stopped the pickup. Aragon could only hear what was going on. The police officer came forward and Smoky rolled his window down.

    “Mr. Gates I hate to te-.” The officer broke off. “Who are you?”

     “I’m Gates friend, Smoky Wilson.” Smoky said. “My pickup is being fixed and he said I could use it.”

     “I don’t remember Gates having any friends, with his job as a reporter he hardly ever hangs out with anybody.” The officer said. Aragon could imagine him scratching his head. “Anyway, I’ll just let you off with a warning; this pickup has been caught speeding at least a dozen times a day, sometimes we just ignore it but we’ve been told to lay down the law a bit harder. You might want to tell your friend that he needs to be a bit more careful.”

     “I will officer.” Smoky said charmingly.

     The sound of ripping paper was muffled by the coats around Aragon’s head but he heard it anyway. After a moment the sirens were silenced and the pickup started forward again, although slower.

     “Find his wallet.” Smoky said angrily. “And make sure he’s still asleep.”

     The men ripped the coats off and searched everywhere for Aragon’s wallet. He felt a bit of satisfaction at the fact that he had left his wallet at his house. “We can’t find it.”

     Smoky growled. “Wake him up then, and load the gun with blanks. I don’t want to accidentally shoot him.”

     The men jostled Aragon to no avail; finally they tossed some ice cold water in his face. Aragon found it rather hard to ignore that.

     Once he was awake and sitting up, Aragon looked out the window. They were in the boonies and it was getting dark. Smoky slammed on the brakes and turned to glare at Aragon. “Alright Gates, who are you really.”

     Aragon hung his head weakly and squeezed tears into his eyes, trying to make himself look pitiful. “I’m a nobody.” He said and sniffed. “I lied about working at the pet shop. I can’t hold down a job anywhere, I’ve worked as a cashier and a clerk, I’ve been a screen starer and a cab driver, not to mention other things but I just can’t seem to hold a job.” By the end of his speech Aragon had managed to have tears streaming down his cheeks.

     “Please don’t kill me, I’ve got a dog that I gave away and two fish that died last week but I haven’t found the time to throw them out and I’ve got parents that are in the grave that I’m sure will miss me plus a girl friend that doesn’t exist.”

     The men stared at Aragon in wonder at how he managed to fit all those words skillfully together and still be wailing.

     Finally Smoky rubbed an ear. “Stop your caterwaulin’.” He said and reached for the gun that now held blanks. “Tell me everything about you and quick and stop lying.”

     Aragon sniffed dramatically and then hiccupped, much to his annoyance. “I’ve told you everything that isn’t true about myself.” He said and slurred the words together somewhat.

     Smoky cocked the gun, his finger twitched on the trigger and the gun went off, blasting a hole in the window behind Aragon. “I thought this gun was full of blanks!” he bellowed.

     The man next to him cringed. “Sorry.”

     Aragon stared at the gun and hiccupped again, and then he let his eyes roll up in his head and he fell forward

Chapter IV of Lands Beyond

     Somehow, he seemed to know what I was going to do, for he was waiting for me outside the door. When I came up beside him, he held out his elbow in an unmistakable gesture. Surprised, I looped my arm through his and we walked through the ship together.

     The few people that we saw looked as surprised as I felt at the sight of us. I guessed that this was not a common sight. Just how uncommon, I did not yet know.

     Our first stop was the landing bay, again. We watched as the fighters landed and were guided to the side to allow others to come in and land. Some of them had to be brought in via remote-control. These pilots were either incapacitated, or dead. The injured ones were taken directly to the infirmary, our next destination.

     I waited near the door while the commander walked among his men, patting a shoulder here, adjusting a blanket there, and speaking a word or two to all of them. I was amazed at this difference in him. He seemed to be an entirely different person.

     Outside of the infirmary however, he reverted back to his usual self. I suspected that only the injured were allowed a peek at his other side. Why he allowed me to see it as well, I do not know. Perhaps… but I refuse to speculate. That would only lead to trouble.

     The walk back to my cabin was a quiet one. There was no one about, and the guards had been assigned elsewhere, leaving the commander and me alone together. I was surprised by this, as everything else this man did surprised me. I suppose that it proves the saying to expect the unexpected.

     At the door to the cabin, the commander turned to leave. I stopped him with a hand on his arm. If any progress was to be made, someone had to make the first move, so I tapped my chest and said, “Brunhilda Von Schonhausen.”

     He only stared, so I repeated the motion and said my name again. Slowly, he repeated the words back to me. I smiled and nodded. He grunted and frowned. What was it with him and frowning? He was especially good at glaring, as I have reason to know.

     Anyway, he did not seem to be in a hurry to tell his name, so I pointed to myself, said, “Brunhilda.” and then pointed to him with a questioning shrug and a raised eyebrow. (Those eyebrows are pretty useful, don’t you think?)

     The commander folded his arms and stared at me. It was pretty obvious that he either wouldn’t, or couldn’t, tell me his name, so I shrugged and stepped into the cabin, closing the door firmly behind myself.

     I was left alone for several days after that, my only visitors being a pair of guards who addressed me respectfully and never stayed longer than it took to execute their duties, namely that of bringing me food and fresh clothing. I had no desire to draw all of the time; so consequently, I had plenty of spare time.

     There is only so much sleeping, pacing, calisthenics, or sitting around doing nothing that you can do before you get bored out of your gourd. Even if there had been books or something in the room, I would not have been able to read them. There was not even an instrument that I could play.

     I think it was about a week that I was locked up, although it was hard to tell, so it could have been longer. And I was locked in, as there was nothing on my side of the door that would allow me to open it. So I am sure that you can imagine my state of mind by the time the commander graced my doorway with his hostile presence.

     And man, was he hostile! I thought that we had made some progress in our rocky relationship, but apparently that was not the case. He was definitely steamed about something, and I don’t think it had anything to do with my choice of hairstyle, either. He stalked over to me and planted himself right in front of me.

     “Brunhilda.” He growled angrily.

     I nodded stiffly and replied coldly, “Commander.”

     For some reason, this seemed to aggravate him just a tiny bit. He grabbed my arm and forcefully pulled me from the room. I had to trot just to keep up, which was not easy in the narrow dress that I was currently wearing.

     I was at a loss to understand why he was upset with me, until I saw what awaited us in the landing bay. I could not keep myself from gasping in shock at the sight that lay before me. My shuttle had been put back together, but it was not the same.

     It looked as if every piece had been re-manufactured to be larger, thicker, and far shinier than it had been before. In fact, the total size of the shuttle was nearly twice what it had been. I also noticed that everyone was keeping a respectful distance away from it, as if they were afraid of it somehow. I almost laughed, until I saw why.

     Part of what made the shuttle shiny seemed to be a sort of electrical force-field. Whenever anyone ventured to close, a current arced out and gave them a shock. I was afraid to get to close, but I had to see what the source was of this strange transformation. None of what I had in the shuttle could have caused this, so I knew that they had done something to it. Just what, I did not know, but I was going to find out.

     I shook off the commander’s grip and began to walk around the shuttle, giving it a visual inspection from a distance, just to be safe.

     Some of the basic design had been altered, to accommodate its larger size. It also appeared as if the engines had been redesigned. I ventured closer, fascinated by the changes. I was so intent on this, that I did not realize just how close I was getting until I heard a soft voice.

     “Welcome, Brunhilda Von Schonhausen.”

     I yelped and stumbled back, nearly falling. “Who said that?”

     The shuttle vibrated slightly. “I did, my lady. I am at your command.”

     Regaining my composure, I slowly made my way closer. In response, the boarding ramp lowered. I paused at the foot of it, afraid to go further. Something my father was fond of saying ran through my head. No pain, no gain. With that thought in my mind, I stepped onto the ramp and began to walk into the shuttle.

Chapter Three of A Reporters Nightmare

     The man that held Aragon’s notepad cleared his throat. “What’re we gonna do with him?”

     “He might have heard something even though we didn’t say anything; I don’t want anybody runnin’ to the police.”

     Aragon was interested about that; whatever these men were doing they didn’t want the police to know about it.

     The men tied Aragon’s hands behind his back and shoved him in the pickup. He saw one of the men start to push a rag to him. He held his breath as the rag covered his mouth and nose; he figured that they were trying to knock him out with chloroform. Aragon let his eyelids flutter and then he slumped over.

     The men were satisfied and drew the rag back. Smoky grunted. “Search him for his keys.”

     Aragon kept his breathing soft and even as the men checked each of his pockets before finally finding his keys. The engine rumbled to life and the pickup lurched as Smoky put it in gear.

     The men didn’t speak for several minutes before finally Smoky slapped his hand on the wheel. “I did not think this through, now we have a civilian mixed up in this.”

     “We could frame him.” One of the men offered.

     “Maybe, but the boss said that if civilians overheard anything we were to get rid of them in what would look like an accident.”

     “I don’t wanna kill anybody, even if boss says so.” One of the men whined.

     There was silence. “Okay.” Said Smoky. “We’ll keep him for as long as possible but if he causes any trouble we’ll have to kill him.”

     Aragon fought back a flinch as one of the men prodded him. “He don’t seem very strong, in mind or body.”

     “That won’t be a problem.” Smoky said evilly. “Weak or strong, we’ll have him unload all the crates, then we won’t have to do any work.”

     Aragon groaned inwardly, he could hold his own in a fight, but crates filled with diamonds could be heavy and who knew how many there were.

     “The crates will be in tomorrow right?”

     “Around the afternoon,” Smoky said while gunning the engine. Aragon could feel them speeding up. “The truck is going to look like a delivery for chips or something; the driver will get out open the back up and get back in the front.”

     “Sounds easy.” Both of the other men said.

     The pickup began to slow and Aragon heard sirens. “Just what we need.” Smoky ground out. “Get him hidden.”

Chapter III of Lands Beyond

     They left me alone for nearly two whole days, only opening the door to give me food and to take away the empty tray. I noticed that it was always the commander, (for such I assumed he was), who entered my room. Everyone else stayed in the corridor. He never tried to speak to me, although I spoke to him a few times. Whenever I did, his lips would compress and he would give me a brief glare before spinning on his heel and striding from the room.

     I was not bored during this time. Far from it actually. I had found some paper and colored pencils in a drawer at a writing desk. The pencils produced the most vivid and lifelike color that I had ever seen. With utensils as fine as these, there was only one thing that I could do with them. I drew a portrait of my parents together, on one of our happiest picnics.

     I was putting the finishing touches on my portrait when the door banged open. I was startled, but kept a firm grip on the pencil as I finished the last line. A hard hand clamped my shoulder and pulled me out of my seat. It was the commander. He tried to propel me out the door, but I resisted. I turned to him and slowly, deliberately, reached up and removed his hand from my shoulder. I threw it down and stepped back to the desk.

     Carefully, I put everything back in its place and placed the portrait under a light. Once that was done, I turned back to the commander, who was seething, again. I smiled at him and walked to the door.

     He barked a command and two guards took up positions on either side of me. The commander stalked past us and led the way down the corridor. Even though I was quite lost, I sensed that we were heading in the direction of the landing bay. This proved to be true.

     Upon entering the bay, the first thing that I noticed was that my shuttle was practically in pieces. I gasped in outrage and rushed forward only to be stopped by the guards. I struggled against their iron grip.

     “What did you do? Why did you tear it apart? You better not have broken anything!” I cried.

     One of the guards laughed and said something to the other. He laughed as well. It was not a nice one. The commander glanced back and frowned. The laughter ceased immediately. Apparently, he was not someone you wanted to cross. At the moment, I did not care about that. My only thought was to get to the shuttle and make sure that they had not ruined my only chance to get back home.

     With a vicious jerk, I freed myself from their grip. When they reached for me again, I punched the first one right behind the ear, dropping him in his tracks. The second guard was more cautious, and more experienced. The commander stood by, seemingly unconcerned with the outcome. This warned me, and I was careful not to overextend myself.

     I soon discovered that he was far more trained, disciplined, and dangerous than I. Not that I was dangerous, for I had never had any reason to fight before, but I did know martial arts. I had only used it to practice balance and agility, but I did it every day, so I had become somewhat proficient at it.

     After three minutes, I was sure that I was going to lose.

     After five minutes, I knew that I was going to lose.

     Less than ten minutes after the fight began, I stalked over to my shuttle, a dazed guard sitting on the floor behind me. I had not won by being better than him. I had beaten him through sheer determination.

     The commander stepped in front of me, put his hand in the middle of my chest, and shoved. I acted instantly. Before his hand even touched me, I stepped backwards, reaching up to grip his wrist in the same instant. I twisted to the side, bending and pulling at the same time, using his momentum against him. He landed hard, but recovered quickly.

     I spared him only a brief glance before beginning my inspection of the shuttle, effectively telling him that he wasn’t worth the effort. This angered him, but he let me continue and did not try to stop me. As if he really could. I would probably lose the battle, but I would eventually win the war.

     My inspection took an hour, but at the end of that time, I was satisfied that no permanent damage had been done. I walked back to the door that we entered from and stood there, waiting for the guards. They approached and took up their positions alongside of me.

     The commander approached as well, and I gestured imperiously for him to lead the way. He glared at me with clear disdain. I grinned impishly and fluttered my eyelashes at him. He looked away, and then back at me. Slowly, a faint smile appeared on his lips.

     I have no idea what he really thought of my behavior. To be honest, I didn’t either. The situation was one that I was entirely unaccustomed to. The one thing that I could not figure out was why I had been brought to the landing bay in the first place. Our next destination was not my cabin, as I had expected, but the bridge.

     The commander went straight to the center console and seemed to be asking for a status report. Whatever he heard did not please him. He issued an order and two people set to work at their computers. He himself sat down in what I assumed was the command chair and began to punch buttons and flip switches.

     As my guards stayed near the door and made no effort to stop me, I began to wander around the room. It did not take me long to recognize the function of many of the workstations. I stopped near one that looked like it was a radar screen. There was no technician at this station and I took the opportunity to look closer.

     Suddenly, I sucked in my breath and leaned in close to study the screen. There it was! I had not imagined it. A tiny blip that appeared for only an instant before disappearing. I watched for it to appear again and it did, slightly closer to the ship.

     “Commander!” I called over my shoulder and pointed to the screen. “Look!”

     Sighing, he got up and came over to me. I indicated the screen again and he bent over to look. Seeing nothing, he shot me an angry glare and turned to leave. I grabbed his arm and jabbed my finger at the screen, where the blip was just reappearing. He stiffened when it disappeared. I tracked its course with my finger and paused where it showed up again.

     The commander spun around and began rapidly issuing orders. I had no idea what I had seen, but whatever it was, it was bad. When I noticed everyone else buckling themselves into their seats, I did the same. Once strapped in, waiting was the only thing that I could do. We did not have long to wait. I could feel the ship turning and slowing.

     Suddenly there was an explosion and the ship rocked unsteadily. I grabbed the armrests and looked around fearfully. No one looked concerned. In fact, they looked quite at ease. I looked back to my screen and saw that the little blip was now completely visible.

     I surmised that we had fired at it and had somehow either destroyed its cloaking ability, or had forced it to appear some other way.

     Since I did not understand anything that was being said around me, I relied upon the radar screen to tell me what was going on. I saw several of what I guessed was enemy ships. Two of them were cloaked like the first one. I was sure that the commander would want to know about them, but how could I tell him?

     The problem solved itself, for the commander came over to my chair and gave me a questioning look. I held up two fingers and pointed to the locations on the screen. He nodded and went back to his own chair.

     Twice more the ship rocked and the cloaked ships became visible.

     The battle continued for several hours. There were a few times when it seemed as if we were being bombarded on all sides. During these times, everyone was hushed and tense, going about their jobs with an intensity that told how serious the situation was. I kept an eye on the screen, but I did not see any more of the invisible ships.

     The commander was an efficient and able leader. Several times his calm directions saved us from a dire situation. He did not get ruffled or overly hasty, and his decisions were well thought out and every angle considered before the order was given. Not that he was slow, for he was not. In fact, I have never seen anyone who could come to a perfect solution in such a short time, as he did.

     I am no expert on battles, but even I could see that we were faced with an insurmountable obstacle. We were only one ship, and a large one at that, while the enemy had eight small and agile ships.

     And then I noticed something strange. There were numerous little specks detaching themselves from the side of our ship! After inspecting them closely, I realized that they must be something like fighter jets being deployed.

     My guess was not far off. In fact, as I discovered later, they were a single seated fighter craft equipped with specialized weaponry designed to inflict severe damage upon certain points in a ship that would either disable or destroy it. Of course, you had to actually hit these points in order to be successful.

     And then you had similarly designed and equipped enemy craft to contend with. So then you have something like a dog fight going on all around you as these crafts fight each other and attempt to reach the opposing ship in order to drop their deadly bombs.

     Our advantage in a battle like this was our superior number of small fighter craft. While half of them engaged the enemy, the other half made for the ships. Our ship engaged these others and prevented them from attacking our fighter craft. Since we were bigger, logically we had more weapons and were able to fend off any attacks made upon us.

     Not long after this, I saw one ship retreat, two others ceased fire, signaling disablement, and one seemed to erupt before disappearing. I correctly assumed that it had been destroyed. The remaining four continued to fight, but it was evident that they would not last long. And they did not.

     When it was all over, no one cheered like you might expect. Instead, they smiled and nodded to each other as if to say, well done. The commander stood and said a few words, and then turned and left. Since I did not know what I was supposed to be doing, I followed him.

A Taste of Deception

Deception

     Long ago in a faraway land there lived a young man of twenty-two. He was in no way rich, owning only what he carried on his back and the name Draven that his mother gave him. Being of a poor family he left his mother and father at an early age to see what he could make of his life. In the five years since he set out he had been a shepherd, a butcher, apprenticed to a knight and a temporary helper to a traveling bowman. The last two, unfortunately, didn’t end well for Draven’s masters; ending in their untimely demise. Tired of the carnage he had seen while traveling with them he left the large cities and headed north to get away from it all; which is what led him to the peaceful town of Nazov nestled in the foot hills at the base of the Melltith Mountains.

     It was a small, quiet, town with small shops lining the street. The air smelled of fresh tilled dirt in the early spring air. Draven felt at peace in the little town and decided to make his home there where nothing unexpected ever happened. And so he did, at the inn he found work as a stable hand and there he stayed for almost a year and nothing exciting ever happened.

     Until one day…. It did.

     It was in early April on a cold night a group of five knights rode into the town led by a tall, handsome knight on a black charger and dressed in shiny silver armor. The other four made less of a figure on blood bay stallions and in less shiny armor but were no less gallant. They rode up to the inn and handed their chargers to the shivering stable boy who took the tired horses to the stables.

     Inside the inn everyone watched in amazement as the knights strode through the door, for they had never seen such gallant knights before.

     “I am Sir Pellaus. We must have food, my good man!” The handsome knight said to the innkeeper and they made themselves comfortable by the fire. “And the best ale that you have, for we have come many miles in the cold and rain and are in need of sustenance!”

     “Yes, my lords.” The innkeeper said, bowing. He turned to his wife who stood wiping her hands on her apron. “Hurry, Kate. The stew!” Shaking out of her trance she hurried back into the kitchen.

     “Come, Astrid. Help me with the ale.” He said to his daughter, then he turned to Draven. “Go help Tom with the horses. Hurry, lad!”

     Draven grabbed his cloak from by the kitchen door and stepped out into the cold night air. He made his way over to the stables and found young Tom struggling to take the saddle off of the black stallion, who stood almost twice his size.

     “Here, Tom, let me help you.” Draven said.

     He lifted the saddle off and set it on the rail then helped Tom rub the horse down. All five of them were worn out and it was obvious that they came from a long ways away.

Chapter Two of A Reporters Nightmare

     The pickup would be considered a rust bucket by most people and that was why Aragon had chosen it. No one would suspect a reporter to be driving something so out of style, especially in the big city.

     Just as Aragon reached for his keys he happened to look to the side and saw a gun staring at him. Aragon froze. The man behind the gun was Smoky and behind him were two other men.

     Aragon didn’t have time to start the engine. By the time he got the key in and the pickup put in gear the men could pull the trigger and he would be dead before the pickup was even moving.

     He put his hands in the air. Smoky motioned for him to get out. Aragon did so but moved slowly, his mind was frantically thinking of an excuse as to why he was in this area at the same time the men had been having their conversation.

     “What’s going on?” Aragon asked, annoyed to find that he squeaked a little.

     “What’re you doin’ over here?” Smoky demanded.

     Out of the corner of his eye Aragon saw a pet shop sign. “I stopped for my lunch break and a nap, right here seemed like a good place.”

     Smoky glared at him. “Where do you work?” He growled.

     “A pet shop.” Aragon said.

     One of the men behind Smoky reached inside his jacket and pulled out his notepad. Aragon was relieved that he hadn’t written anything on it yet.

     “What’s this?” Smoky said, the cigarette in his mouth bouncing with every word.

     “It’s a notepad.” Aragon said. “It’s used to write stuff on. I like to write stories in my spare time.”

     Smoky seemed to think this over before uttering a sharp word to his men, then he looked at Aragon. “Get in the back of your pickup.” He said.

     Aragon gulped. “In the back or the back?”

     Smoky glowered at that. “Watch your mouth.”

     “I was watching it but then I saw you and started watching you instead.” Aragon said and was rewarded with a hard slap that would have knocked him flat but he had been expecting it. Now he knew that the men weren’t afraid of beating someone up to get what they wanted.

Chapter II of Lands Beyond

     The first time that I spent longer than two days in space was a rather strange experience. I had not really thought about what it would be like. For someone who was accustomed to going wherever she wanted, with unlimited space, the confines of my spaceship seemed to be constricting and oppressing.

I did my best to not allow it to bother me. That is part of the reason why I brought along my crafts. I knew that it was possible for me to become bored or frustrated, so I tried to make sure that there would plenty of things to help keep myself occupied. It did not always work.

     My notebooks and computers allowed me to record everything that I observed, and my sketchbooks allowed me to draw out the patterns and colors that I observed as well. I submitted a few of these combined into an essay to a scientific research institute. They were skeptical at first, but after comparing my notes with a few of their own, they decided that I knew what I was about.

     I have some small skill with a paintbrush, and I painted a few colorful portraits of the stars and planets and sold them to a couple small art galleries. I also sold some of the crafts that I had made while ship bound. The few profits that I made off of these sales went into restocking the larder and buying more yarn and paper.

     When I got a little extra money, I either used it to make repairs or upgrades on my shuttle, or I sent it home to my father, where I was reasonably certain that it was laid aside and never touched.

That is how life went for me in the years before I and my shuttle were transported elsewhere. For such is what happened the day that this story began. I will now tell you of what happened after I regained consciousness in that strange place.

     I spent two days trying to figure out what had happened. Everything seemed to be in working order, although I dared not stray from the area until I had detected patterns or formations that would enable me to return to my exact location. I was rather frightened, but kept myself under control and managed not to panic, although that would have been easy to do.

     I have no idea how long I would have stayed there if not for the arrival of the strangest sight I had ever seen. It was a spaceship. It was about half the size of a small Star Destroyer. (If you have seen Star Wars, you know what I mean.)

     It was longer than it was wide, and looked like it had two decks besides the bridge. It had designs painted on it, but none of them looked familiar. I grabbed a sheet of paper and began to draw, fascinated with its design. I wondered briefly what it looked like on the inside, and then dismissed the idea, thinking no more of it.

     The strange ship halted some distance away and stayed there, seeming to take no notice of me. This did not bother me, as it gave me more time to study it. The ship stayed in this position for several hours. I was just beginning to wonder what it was doing, when I felt my shuttle begin to move. I quickly engaged the engine and tried to stop the forward motion, but to no avail. I soon realized that I was being pulled in by the strangers!

     This time, I let myself panic a little.

     I soon calmed down and began to think. While I was ignorant of whatever fate awaited me aboard ship, I knew that curiosity might overcome any hostility there might be. With that in mind, I prepared to meet my captors, for I was sure that I would not be a guest.

     As of yet, I did not know that I was in a different galaxy, or universe, or whatever you want to call it. I still do not know the distance traveled, or the direction taken. Taking this into consideration, you may be sure that I had no idea what I might find aboard the strange vessel. For all I knew, it could be some top secret experiment that I had accidentally stumbled upon.

     I was soon to discover the folly of this conclusion.

     Once in the landing bay, I seemed to have regained some control of the shuttle. However, it was only enough to make a smooth landing, facing outwards. If I had to make a getaway, I wanted to waste no time in turning around. I did not open the ramp until someone banged on it, loudly and impatiently. I hesitated for a moment, and then, at an even louder and more insistent bang, I pushed the button to lower the ramp.

     As soon as the ramp was low enough to permit it, a huge man pushed his way in and stopped by my side. He was so tall that he had to duck. He wore a uniform that had a symbol of rank on the epaulets, but that was as much as I could make out. It was a dark maroon color, with gold piping and stitching.

     When I looked up into his face, I noticed that his hair was deep black, and that his eyes were a light brown, almost gold. His face was lean and tanned, rugged in a way, but not weathered. He was actually rather handsome. And very, very, angry.

     In fact, he was seething. He leaned in close and practically growled at me. When I only stared at him, he spoke again, this time reaching out to shake me. I stepped back quickly. “Don’t you dare touch me, bucko.”

     He paused at that. I think it had more to do with the tone than the words, because it was pretty obvious that we couldn’t understand each other. He seemed to realize the meaning of my words however, for he did not touch me. Instead, he motioned for me to precede him down the ramp, following closely.

     He and four other men, just as big, handsome, and scary, escorted me through several corridors until we reached an inset door marked with a symbol I assumed was a letter. He opened it and motioned me inside. I entered, surprised to find that the room was rather large and comfortable. The man looked at me, opened his mouth as if to say something, and then just shook his head and left.

     Despite the circumstances, I found myself smiling at his retreating back. This was already quite an adventure, and promised to be an exciting one.

Chapter One of A Reporters Nightmare

     Aragon Gates shivered in the rain and tucked his notepad back into his jacket. The rain had only been a drizzle when he had started out. He was trailing two men for a story; they had meandered across a parking lot and now were standing near a big tree in a park. The park was situated near the middle of the city. The men had looked bored and hadn’t said anything. Now, however, was a different story.

     The men were talking and the rain was a downpour. Aragon inched forward and strained his ears to catch the conversation.

     “The delivery will be in tomorrow.” One of the men said. Aragon had dubbed him smoky; he had had a cigarette in his mouth the whole time he had been there.

     “Boss’ll be mad if we let any of the reporters catch wind of this. Those diamo-.” The other man started to say something but Smoky cut him off.

     “Don’t say the D word, nobody can hear about it.”

     Aragon bit back a groan, these men were careful, but he had guessed what the word was, diamonds. What would these men be doing with diamonds?

     The men’s conversation went to other things, mostly about hoping the rain would let up. Aragon tugged his collar up higher and watched as the men slowly drifted off. He had only caught one word of importance and it irritated him that nothing else had been mentioned that would help with his story.

     The men were gone and the rain was starting to let up. Aragon straightened and grimaced as his back creaked. He had been standing in one place for almost two hours. He darted to his pickup and climbed in.

Chapter I of Lands Beyond

     Honestly, I have no idea how it happened. One minute, I was getting myself strapped into my observation chair, the next minute, everything began to shake and shudder and then the shuttle rocketed forward at an extreme speed. I must have lost consciousness somewhere in there, for when I opened my eyes, the shuttle was floating easily along. I looked out through the porthole. I did not recognize any of the star formations around me, and the very essence of the universe seemed strange to me.

     Perhaps I should start at the beginning. My name is Brunhilda Von Schonhausen and I am from the lonely wilds of Montana, where our nearest neighbours were ten miles away. My father worked for a rancher some miles away, and he was rarely home. My mother was a frail woman, but had an unbeatable spirit. She home-schooled me in everything from mathematics to horse breaking.

     Her father had been an engineer and mechanic for an air-plane factory, and he had taught her much of what he knew, which she in turn taught me. As a result, I was often tinkering on some of our old machinery. She also had an old telescope that had belonged to her mother, and she taught me the star formations and navigation.

     These things were of extreme interest to me. Having grown up in a vast, empty land, the vast, empty space above me naturally drew me towards it. I was determined to learn as much about it as I could.

     The result of it was that I began to build a spaceship. My mother did not believe that it would ever leave the ground, but this belief did not deter her from assisting me in my quest. Her knowledge of aircraft was invaluable to me. I do believe that I would still be working on it if she had not helped me.

     By the time I was twenty, the spaceship was finished. It looked somewhat like a bullet in shape, with wings that housed the engines. It had landing gear that was similar to an air-planes’, for landing on the earth. Situated in the very back, in the form of a ramp, was the entryway. The only windows were small portholes made of the strongest glass that I could get. The wind-shield itself was very small, only as large as it needed to be for me to see out of it.

     The instrument panel contained a level of sophistication that my mother assured me would be plenty for my needs. I had included radar so that I would know when I came into range of some object in space. In the computer, I installed a complete chart of star formations, planet locations, and other celestial information. It would not do to become lost simply because I had drifted off course. I wanted to be able to find my way back.

     I took several test flights, staying inside of Earth’s atmosphere. I wanted to be sure that my spaceship was completely capable of flight within the pull of gravity. Once I had satisfied myself upon that score, I essayed to fly into space. It was a failure. I had not even exited the atmosphere before I became convinced that my craft would need much more work before it would be capable of space flight.

     It took some trial and error, but I finally made it into space. Years of hard work had paid off. I knew that it would take a few more years of hard work to make my spaceship safe to fly. It was now capable of flying, but as of yet, it was not completely safe to fly.

     During this time, my mother had been a pillar of strength. Even though her health had been failing for some time, she saw fit to conceal it from me for as long as possible. The first inkling I had of her ill health came while I was assisting her in the kitchen making blueberry pie. She had been a little slow that day, but I had assumed that it was because she was tired.

     We were talking and laughing as we always did, when suddenly, she froze in mid-step with a strained look on her face. I dropped my rolling pin and hurried to her side. She slowly set the bowl she had been holding on the counter before turning to me with an apologetic smile. “I am sorry, Brunhilda, but it seems as if I am not feeling like myself. I shall feel better after a short rest. Please, do not concern yourself needlessly.”

     With that, she went to her bedroom and lay down on the bed. Despite her reassurances, I was very concerned. I did not know much about diseases or medicine, but the little that I did know seemed to point to a stroke of some sort. Of course, I might have been mistaken. It is not always easy to tell. However, what I do know is that my mother became very ill only a couple days afterwards. My father was away from home and we had no telephone or cell phone. Even if we did have cell phones, we would not have been able to use them. There was no tower close enough to pick up the signal.

     My mother wished for me to find my father, but I wanted to get her to the hospital first. She tried to protest, but she was too weak. We had no vehicles, and the closest hospital was miles away, but I knew that we could make it in my spaceship. I had added rotors to give it hovering capabilities, so I knew that we could land very close to the hospital.

     I loaded her up into it and buckled her in securely. I started the rotors and lifted off using them, just to be sure that they worked. Once we were in the air, I lowered the wings and fired the engines before switching off the rotors. We made it to the hospital in record time.

     I suppose that it would be unnecessary to tell you that when I landed in an empty parking lot across from the hospital, I received several strange looks from passersby. I ignored them, as I had become somewhat accustomed to them from previous flights where I had landed in or near a town. (Once, I went as far as the southern tip of Texas at the top of my speed. I nearly burned out my engine doing it, though, and I had to loaf back home.)

     Anyway, the doctors saw my mother, but they could not figure out what the matter was. However, they all agreed that she needed to be admitted, so that they could keep a close eye on her. Once I was sure that she was safe, I left to go find my father and tell him what had happened.

     I found him fixing fence in a pasture that I was sure the owner had forgotten that he even owned. My father was surprised to see me, as I had rarely searched him out while he was working. I explained what had happened to mother and told him that I had taken her to the hospital. He looked at me in surprise. “How did you get her there?”

     I gestured to the spaceship. “I used that.”

     He shook his head mutely. He had never really approved of my hobby and had often complained that it was a waste of time. However, he had soon desisted when he realized that it kept me busy and that he did not have to pay for anything. Whatever needed bought, I paid for with money that I had earned by making things to sell and doing odd jobs for the few neighbors close enough to reach on horseback. We only had one very old vehicle, which he used.

     At first, he was averse to going with me, but when he realized that it was the fastest way into town, he stepped gingerly up the ramp and buckled himself into one of the passenger seats. Eager to impress him, I made the ride as smooth as possible, surprising even myself with the performance of the ship.

     Once at the hospital, my father unstrapped himself and hurried away. I followed him, but not before raising the ramp and snapping a padlock into place. You never knew who might get curious enough to snoop around and possibly break something.

     Inside, I found my way to the room where my mother was. They had her hooked up to several monitors, and she looked extremely white and frail lying between the thin and sterile sheets. My father was holding her hand and looking very uncomfortable. I do not know if it was because of the situation or something else, but since it was not my business, I refrained from commenting.

     The doctors had hope of her recovery, but could not say much beyond that. Unfortunately, my mother took a turn for the worse that evening. Everything that could be done for her was done, but it was not enough. She died before noon the next morning. My father withdrew within himself in just a couple of hours. Most of the funeral arrangements were left up to me, and I executed my responsibilities to the best of my ability.

     It seems that I did my job a little too well. I overheard several people tell my father that I was one cold fish. I did not start crying at the drop of a hat, I seemed to be in complete control of myself, every little detail was seen to, and I had none of the absent mindedness usually associated with grief.

My father believed them. Nothing that I said or did afterwards changed his mind. He believed that I was cold and heartless and undeserving of any future attention from him. That is how I happened to be in space that fateful day.

     I completed the work on the shuttle in record time, finishing it less than a year after her death. I took several test flights, staying away longer each time. When my father took no notice of my absence, I decided that it was time for me to take my leave and strike out on my own. I packed lightly, only taking things that were essential. I did take a few nonessential items, such as sketchbooks and pencils, a tightly packed crate of yarn, a small folding table, and a portable sewing machine.

     These things could easily be stashed behind the seats, and were fairly lightweight, so nothing was lost by taking them. They were mostly for my own comfort and peace of mind anyway, so I did not need to bicker with myself about it.