Space travelers discover history about an alien race that forced human factions to peace. |
CHAPTER 1 The shuttle slowed to a stop at the docking zone as reverse thrusters fought against the momentum of the space craft, its pilot and its passengers. The shuttle had just performed one of its most routine tasks - flying out from New Eden's surface to the planet's oldest and largest orbiting station. With a tone of a person who had said the same thing thousands of times before, the shuttle pilot said, "Alrighty then. We have arrived at New Eden Station. Please make sure to obtain all belongings before leaving." A young man seated near the middle of the shuttle grasped at the backs of his seat and the empty seat in front of him and slowly stood up, groaning and stretching. He towered over most others and was lean and lanky. The young man had tan skin with black, almost russet, hair that brushed just slightly over his jagged brows. He wore the standard blue and white Federation clothing that one would expect being in Federation space. He also sported a pair of glasses filled with gadgetry that interacted with neural implants within his brain. The young man gathered the only effect that was not in his pockets, a black box made of wood-like material with strange carvings. As passengers filed into the aisle and out of the shuttle, the young man's belly grumbled. His stomach had needs and those needs just had to be fulfilled. He stepped out of the shuttle. Above was a sign with a slight arch that said, "New Eden Space Station," in a harsh, cold blue light. The station dock had a large emphasis on utility, which was strange by Federation standards. Usually luxury and comfort superseded usefulness. Obviously, the button pusher that ran the station knew how to maximize profits over the long haul. Metal floor tiles generated power with every step, track or tread. The station dock bustled with activity. Freight robots hauled cargo from ship to ship. People yelled. People scribbled on tablets and FedComms. Passenger shuttles, transport ships holding freight and mercenary ships screamed into and out of the dock through the transparent energy field that allowed objects through without venting air out into space. The young man walked through a corridor that entered into the station lobby. The atmosphere changed significantly. Stone tiled floors, chrome handrails and a large tropical atrium graced the station lobby. Surrounding the atrium were shops serving various customers of various backgrounds for various purposes. A sign to a bar caught the young man's attention. "Opening Day," the sign read, "Free drinks to the first 20 customers!" The young man walked through the doorless entrance of the bar. The lighting of the bar was lit so as to cause shadows on most surfaces. He noted glints from glassed over vid-recorders that were located on all ceiling corners. Along the walls of the bar were several booths and tables for card games. Near the middle and back of the bar stood a wooden countertop colored a deep, rich mahogany. Underneath the countertop were various cheap and expensive liquors display by bright neon green lights. "Welcome to the Biomorph Bar," the bartender said with enthusiasm. "Your my first customer so you get a free drink." The bartender pointed to the sign just outside the entrance. "Cool, can I get a Freedom Ale please? Oh, um," the young man glanced at the menu above the bartender to find something familiar. He just stood there for a few moments contemplating as the bartender poured the cheap, weak ale into a very tall glass. "Do you have Feta Fries?" asked the young man? "Feta what? I'll check in the back." While the bartender left to the kitchen, the young man glanced around the bar, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Eventually, he got tired of standing, took his ale and went to a corner booth near the front of the bar. The bartender came back from behind the countertop and searched for the young man for a second. "We don't have Feta cheese, sorry." The bartender explained. "We can getcha some fries and gear you up with some spices. You want that?" The young man had still been sitting in the booth during the bartender's suggestion. He nodded, stood up, walked over to the counter and showed the bartender his FedComm to be scanned. "That'll be 129 credits or 13 Gold Standards," said the bartender. The young man went back to his booth and sipped the ale while waiting for his food to arrive. A waiter came with the young man's fries in hand. "Thanks," he muttered to the waiter. Then waiter left the table. After a couple of fries, the young man slowed his chewing, though not because the food was bad. It was delicious. He thought about a girl sitting across from him. He sighed as salt and liquid blended. He moved his eyelids down with his fingertips and waited for his eyes to dry. The young man continued to eat his meal at a slower pace than before. He really had no place to be at the moment. About five minutes in, he took out his FedComm and read blueprints and specifications for an Empire-styled Command ship he was building. He switched tabs within his FedComm and opened up a program that gave what ship modifiers would needed to be installed on a ship to get the desired stats for a ship. He placed the FedComm flat on the table. An interactive hologram appeared above the FedComm. To his left was a rotating model of the Command ship. Listed below the model was a chart filled with the default stats of the ship. To the right of the model was a paragraph, typed up by the young man, describing how he wanted the ship to be changed. On the very right of the hologram was a list of required modifiers. After checking through the parts that he still needed, the young man put the FedComm to sleep, slid it in his pocket and continued eating his meal. Not long after, two persons walked into the bar without a cheesy punchline. They didn't notice the young man as they bantered back and forth towards a booth on the opposite side of the bar. The link to the next chapter will appear below on September 21, 2015. Just copy-paste the link into the URL bar. http://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2058333-Little-Wanderers---Chapter... |