Tales of Asseren: Genesis

It was a vast, shining globe, and the great bulk of the star cruiser seemed to merge with it. Asseren had fooled men for centuries into thinking that it was nothing but a gas planet with no visible surface, yet upon closer inspection, they found that it did have a surface of pure rock. The hydrogen, helium, and nitrogen cocktail of an atmosphere made colonization and interplanetary travel extremely difficult. There was always the risk of catching the whole planet on fire, which would make colonization a moot point. After the invention of the Ion Engine, it became possible to land on the surface, and humans started to bore deep into the planet and eventually established a uniquely small colony. The people of Asseren, after two hundred years, lived like ants in a complicated series of tunnels that stretched for hundreds of miles.

The star cruiser was a transport ship, bringing the livelihood of the people in the colony from another far away solar system. The armored bulk pierced the filmy murk of the atmosphere, penetrating deep, and finally settling onto the landing port. A cylindrical tube shot from the ground and into the bottom of the ship, like some great leech latching on to a mammoth host. Five humanoids dropped down the tube, into the entrance of the subterranean civilization. There were four crewmen, all below the age of thirty, all men in dirty uniforms. Their captain, however, was an ex-military commando, a well seasoned soldier with grit and brains. Her name was Teira Aldran.

Teira commanded a certain amount of respect from everyone who ever came into contact with her, even her superiors. She was charismatic and a capable leader. She was strongly built, but proportionate, a once delicate form chiseled into a rock-hard fighting machine that had seen more combat than most. After her term of service, she started working for Kel Shipping, which brought supplies to little outposts and colonies like these. Her clothes were half uniform, half armor, and she wore a standard military issue pistol at her side. Her skin was tanned, her hair a dark brown, the same as her eyes. She was their captain, and what a captain she made.

After the depressurization process had completed, an old man, escorted by three burly workers, entered the chamber. He was the very definition of wisdom, his beard nearly reaching his knees, his eyes danced with light and happiness, a man who was cheery and upbeat, he was also the leader of the colony. This was Ramos Durgon. His three friends were not very bright, but strong looking.

“Captain Aldran. A pleasure to see you again.”

“Mayor Durgon.” She acknowledged him. “We’ve got the usual shipment, and the extra power-cells you requested.”

“Splendid, come to my office. The paper-work needs to be completed, I assume.”

“You’re right. My crew and the Mech’s will unload the cargo in the meantime.” She looked to her crew, who were always energetic. “Unload the cargo, make rounds in the hull, make sure nothing got in or out, and stop by the tavern, have a drink or two.” She wasn’t particularly strict, as long as the job was done, she didn’t mind them having a little bit of fun, besides, they were a good bunch of guys who didn’t mind taking orders from a woman, and that showed character.

The tunnels of Sector 1 were the least complicated, leading directly from the landing port to the intersection that lead to residential areas, and the mayors quarters. Teira and her crew knew the area well enough, on the second level was a residential area, and the taverns. Touda’s Bar was where the workers and miners went to let off steam and have a few drinks. Honest people letting loose and forgetting the troubles of the day. Mining was their chief employer, the planet being abundant in Corran, a relatively rare alloy that was used to build hyperdrive reactors. It was a good environment, and there was a constant sense of progress.

There were hardly any people out though, which was strange. The Asserians ran on a 36 hour day, the halls were normally bustling with life. It was probably just later than she thought it was. The Mayors office was quaint and cozy, reflecting very much the owners personality. Portraits of family members and children lined the wall behind the desk, which was littered with papers and what looked to be mining reports. The paper work for the shipments was as tedious as it could possibly be, but it was finished in less than two hours, a personal record for the old man.

Something though, was troubling Mayor Durgon. Teira could read it in his face, she knew people, and the Mayor’s mind was somewhere else. The Power Cells... she thought to herself.

“I know it’s none of my business, sir. But...why did you order so many Class 2 Power Cells? The machinery here is too big for those to even touch.”

“They’re not for the machinery.” He said calmly.

“May I ask what they are for then?”

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to tell you. They’re for the cannons.”

“What?” She was confused. The people of Asseren were peaceful and united, they had no use for Plasma Cannons.

“We’ve had reports of disappearances in the mines, it could just be coincidence, but I don’t want anything to happen to my people.” His cheerful disposition was clouded with worry and deep concern. This kindly old soul should never have to deal with such things, but who was she to say anything? She was no longer part of the military, she was the captain of a Supply Frigate now, it was none of her business. But still, she liked Mayor Durgon, and the people of the colony.

“Makes sense. Have you contacted the nearest Federation outpost?”

“They wont help an operation this small. To them, we’re not worth the effort, we must take care of ourselves.” He said shakily. The Galactic Federation was the only law in the galaxy, an alliance of intelligent, sentient beings from many systems that established law and structure. Every solar-system counted, and every person with a Federation Card was subject to their protection, and the thought of these good people being ignored was too much for her.

“You’re licensed to operate the cannons, but these people aren’t soldiers. They’re miners and workers. On my way back, I’ll contact General Freydon, he owes me one. It’ll be better if you have a garrison here to investigate.” Mayor Durgon only smiled faintly. He handed the completed forms to Teira, his withered hands shaking nervously. She locked eyes with him and gave a confident smile. She had the ability to make people feel more confident with that very smile, and sometimes, confidence and heart gave a soldier the courage necessary to get the job done. She left the office and headed for the bar, needing to think about how she was going to convince the General to even talk to her.


Cecil and Barry were just beginning their search of the cargo bay as the Mechs were finishing their job. Robotics made life so much easier, but there were just some jobs Mechs couldn’t do, and patrol was one of them. The intelligence necessary for a Mech to identify and destroy hostiles was restricted to Military Patrol Units, or an MPU, it was their duty to make a few sweeps of the area and hope nothing got through. The two men were armed with standard issue laser rifles and portable blast shields.
“I honestly don’t know why she has us do this.” Barry commented as they finished checking a barrel.

“It’s procedure, a good idea, and most of all our job. Just stick to it, and think about the money.” Cecil replied. Barry nodded in confirmation. “Besides, there’s nothing to worry about, nothing ever gets in when we come here anyway.”


Part 2


Little to their knowledge, something was in there with them, or rather, someone. The man hiding in the cargo bay was a fugitive, an outlaw on the run from the Federation. He had scruffy brown hair, brown eyes, a sharply built face and he had the body of a long-distance swimmer. He was a human dressed in banded, dark clothes that served as a light armor, and carried only a laser pistol. This was Deagon, one of the most renowned duelists in the galaxy, a man who’d killed more people in the ring than the Black Plague of Old Earth. He was also the man who’d managed to avoid the Federation for five years.

Dueling had been a favorite pass-time sport for all of the galaxies peoples before the Federation deemed death matches illegal and began to arrest and execute the champion duelists. Deagon though, was no mans fool and good at hiding. He’d been able to shake them off for five whole years, and was even able to take residence on New Earth under a fake ID, before Cassus came. Yomish Cassus was the Federation's top bounty hunter, and for good reason. Being a Nimidorian had it’s advantages, the humanoid creatures were stronger than most other races, and could move much faster. In reality, they were more insectoid than mammalian, they were protected by exoskeletal armor that was both functional and deadly, often bearing several calcium deposits that formed sharp spikes, which Deagon had been most fortunate to avoid.

Deagon, though, had no time for reminiscing, as there were two rather large men making their way toward his hiding spot. He held his breath easily, remaining perfectly still. Deagon watched them pass, then breathed a mental sigh of relief. He relaxed a little, causing his badly worn boots to slip. The sound of Deagon's backside hitting the ground echoed throughout the whole ship it seemed. Barry and Cecil drew their pistols and slowly made their way to his position.

For what seemed like an eternity, the two men stood and stared at the box that hid him. Deagon was prepared for anything at that point, although he'd pretty much resigned himself to the fact that he'd just screwed himself. Just as expected, the larger of the two men kicked away the box and pointed a pistol right at his head.

"Freeze!" Cecil shouted. Deagon stood and raised his arms. His eyes darted from place to place, instinctively noting his surroundings, looking for possible escape routes and ways to get out. "We got ourselves a live one." Cecil gloated. Barry was beside himself with disbelief, having earlier stated that nothing would ever break in, and yet, here was this scruffy looking man, hiding very illegally in their cargo hold.

"State your name." Barry said in a very audible voice.

"...um." Right then Deagon had a bounty on his head so huge that if he had revealed his name to those guys, they would have probably shot him on the spot. "Orren." The lie had probably saved his hide.

"Keep your hands up, don't do anything you'll regret." Cautioned the big man. They were both nervous, Deagon could tell that this was entirely new to them, so he figured he would take advantage of it.

"Well fellas, I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm late for an engagement." That was his way of dealing with extreme stress, bad jokes and archaic expressions made him feel like he was in control,even though they had the weapons. Unknown to the two men, Deagon really was in total control. They were dealing with the best duelist in the Galaxy, a man who'd killed more trained warriors than they had hairs on their heads. He'd stared down the barrels of bigger guns.

The move was lightning fast, the two guards never saw it coming. He rushed forward, twisted his body and knocked the guns out of their hands. Deagon caught the bigger one in the jaw, the uppercut sending him to the floor in a stupor. The other one grabbed Deagon around the waist, locking his arms to his side. Deagon was not finished, though. He positioned himself instinctively, letting the big man squeeze as hard as he could, which gave his legs some room to move. Deagon brought his right leg up with frightening speed, straight up into the air, the tip of his boot colliding with his attackers forehead. His arms weakened and released Deagon, the man fell limply to the ground.

"Sleep well, guys. Nothin' personal." He tied them up and threw their pistols into the void of the ship. He had to find a way out, he hoped there would be cities on this planet, wherever in the damned galaxy he was, he hoped for a sprawling metropolis to hide in.