Battles Beyond (Book 1: The Fleeing Saga)

Vibez (17)

TERRIER ABANDONMENT - 300KM FROM LEAFLET

A party of epic proportions captivated those present. The beatmaker danced inside the perimeter of a motion sense beat synthesiser for every Tatskaf Battlemonger member to dance to his musical guile. The one at the helm was a worm named Squirm. He had a flat bottom and long protrusions at his top. The being jumped in place as his standard moveset. The synthesiser rested upon a porch and a brown board hung over it for shade.

Squirm's house was tall and bent like the rest. Lack of basic amenities was the reality for those stranded, but for the Tatskaf, this was a literal vacation.

The genre transition was effortless. A lifeform on its arms and legs arched its spine and gyrated its hips to this change. Another one, a Chesadee with a profound stomach, had his fists clenched and moved to the beat before the switch to a different tune.

The crew-about three thousand in total-made up the majority on the outskirts of Terrier. The only real economic activity was when the odd ship landed-which hadn't happened in two days. Being an illegal transhipment point for all things criminal would have one believe there would be more activity, but civil war was a great deterrent.

The boisterous atmosphere irritated Tatskaf's neighbours.

"Nah, man. How they wicked so? I wanna relax," A male Cardigaul said from inside his home. "But I can't do anything about it." He became sad.

The music transitioned once more. The melodies kept them in a carefree, rhythmic state until...

BEEP BEEP, BOOP BOOP!

These were the sounds of a familiar blackened starcraft in the sky.

Squirm, being the beatmaker, was happy to see it return with all its hugeness. The Tatskafs cheered with exuberance at this development.

The music then changed again to something more lively than the last. It was just right for the mood.

The worm began to flail his body similar to someone twirling their shirt at a rave. The rest formed a conga line to a hit song as their starcraft came down.

* * *

La rested in bumps and bruises with white bandages pasted with medicine to hide and heal them. Their medical technology was way behind most parts of the galaxy. The general worn-out nature of everything wasn't appealing. Hospitals were one of the largest buildings in each town that made up Leaflet. The only facilities that were bigger were the living arrangements and the waste recycling facility.

She tried to break the spell her sleeping ability had on her. It was something that needed improvement if she wanted to establish herself in her new position.

La wanted to ask Mezamica Um something she needed to know. The communications were down, but for her desire, she struggled mightily to get out of bed. It would never go away until she got her answer. With her rank, she felt that she must know what was previously unknown to her in the organization.

"Hey. Where are you going?" A medical practitioner saw La with all her injuries moving through the busy hallway.

"Don't bother me." Most were preoccupied with taking care of those that had put their lives on the line for the Defence Force. They laid on anything that could give comfort while being treated in the hallways-whether on seats, gurneys or the bare ground. Their plight to their hasty treatment unsettled those that sought to help them.