You learn more from your mistakes than your successes.
So here I am to try, and to fail, so I can learn.
Paul Fail. For The Win!

18 August 2011

#FridayFlash: The Grove


The Grove
D. Paul Angel
© 2011
1,000 Words


"Andrew! So good to see you again! And this must be Richard?"

"Hi Dad," Andrew replied through his father's tight embrace, "And yes, this, is Richard."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Freehold," Richard said, offering his hand.

"Now let's get one thing straight Richard, you marry my son, you're family. None of that handshaking or 'Mister' crap. It's either Dad, or Bill, if you must; and only hugs from here on out."

Laughing, Bill embraced his new son-in-law and ushered the two into his Dome. Dusk was coming, and Sirius XIV dominated Rexhaven's sky. There was so much light reflected from the gas giant that Rehaven's night's only rarely knew full darkness.

"Where's Rex dad?" Andrew asked, suddenly missing the venerable Border Collie's usual quick appearance. He turned at his dad's silence and felt a chill. "Am I too late?"

"Well son, I really don't know. He hasn’t come back from his morning outing yet. I was heading out to The Grove when you guys came in. He seems to like it there more than anywhere else. Not that I can blame him! Hey you’re welcome to come, but it is a long hop from Gliese..."

"It’s Rex, Dad! Of course we’ll come."

"Great. He's been moving slower and slower these days, so I'll be glad for the company and help."

"So how old is Rex, anyways?" asked Richard as Bill handed him a flashlight and they headed out into the crisp night air.

Bill stopped and looked over at Andrew who shrugged at his gaze, "It never really came up, Dad, and it's not the easiest thing to explain, either. He knew I had a dog named Rex, but other than that he was a cool dog getting on in years, no. Never a number."

"Put it this way, Richard," Bill began slowly, "Rex isn't named after the Colony, so much as the Colony is named after him."

"Uh-"

Exactly. The Colony's over fifteen hundred years old now, and back then geneticists thought they could bestow us with immortality by creating so-called, 'empty clones.'"

"I always thought those were just stories," Richard said, shivering a bit at the images the phrase conjured.

"It is, admittedly, a bit ghastly, but it also turns out that it simply does not work on humans. But, it does on dogs.

"So, William Jefferson Freehold, IV, who was wealthy enough to afford it, and who really loved his dog, 'Rex,' saw it done on his own Colony before it was outlawed."

"So Rex is..."

"In his current, and last body I might add, he's 14," chimed in Andrew, "But all told his consciousness has lived 1,542 years."

They continued on in silence until the simple path they were following curved around a small hillock and Richard saw The Grove for the first time. Bill and Andrew grinned as they watched him take in the view. The trees reached higher even than the Redwoods of ancient myth. Their thick, solid trunks supporting innumerable bushy branches all the way up until they appeared to be tickle Sirius XIV. The tallest branches were even still catching dim twinklings of Sirius' light.

"It's... It's stunning," he finally said. They turned on their flashlights as they entered The Grove and Richard was awed to see that even the flashlight's piercingly bright beam couldn't illuminate the entire trunk by itself.

"Believe it or not, Andrew," Bill said with a sigh, "This is the full Grove's last night."

"Is it finally time?" Andrew asked with surprise.

"Remember the noob...," Richard said with faux severity. Andrew chuckled and took Richard's free hand in his own before explaining as they walked.

"The Grove is made up of special trees planted here when Rexhaven was first founded. The air didn't have enough oxygen, so these trees were engineered to produce it at an accelerated rate. They're coming out because the atmosphere's oxygen level has reached its tipping point. If they didn't take them out they'd be too much oxygen and the Colony would have to go back to the Dome living days.

"They knew this day would come, Hell, we all expected it in our lifetimes; just not right now."

"They're so large and there are so many of them, it'll take two full years to pull them all out," Bill added with more than a touch of nostalgic reflection.

Everything has its time, a voice whispered in all their heads simultaneously, this is merely ours.

Even Richard knew in an instant it was Rex. Instead of surprise though, they all felt chagrined that they'd so easily underestimated the mentallics that came with 1,500 years of consciousness. They saw him sitting in the path, benevolently regarding them. They soon noticed that his tail and the trees were swaying in an almost symbiotic rhythm to some unseen Brownian Motionesque force beyond them.

You, and your family, have been good to me, Rex intoned. His mild panting looked like a happy, peaceful grin, But The Grove and I must leave tonight. We grew up together and now, simply, it is our time to move beyond this Universe's limitations.

The planet is yours now. I know you will steward it well, he continued as he walked up to them. They each instinctively knelt as he gave each a gentle kiss and he accepted their hugs and scritches with shared, graceful love.

"There are so many questions though..." Bill began, speaking through the muddled tears they all shared.

Of course. But, Rex answered mildly, could you comprehend my answers?

They knew the answer even before Rex's words finished and resigned themselves to a fate beyond their understanding. Rex turned from them and walked under their flashlight beams to the base of The Grove's first tree. He curled up, closed his eyes, and they watched as his tail's gentle wags slowly came to a rest.

Then, one by one, each of the trees in The Grove stopped swaying.


12 August 2011

#FridayFlash The Far Side of the Sun


#FridayFlash
The Far Side of the Sun
©2011 D. Paul Angel
979 words



"This, is a historic day, not just for the U.S., but for the entire world; for the shared Nation, of Humanity. Today we unlock, the secret of the Universe, and send our first envoys across the stars..."

"That's quite enough of the speech, Lieutenant," Captain Maxwell said curtly.

"Yes, sir," Lieutenant Jones replied, cutting the feed of the President's speech.

Maxwell watched the Sun steadily growing in size on the Bridge's main view-screen. In a little over 20 minutes they'd be accelerating their ship directly at its heart, hoping to skipstream at the last second to an entirely different star. Gliese 581 was 20 light years, and was directly in line with the Sun on the other side now. He could feel the crews' tension rising with his own. They knew from the observatories that the drones had entered the skipstream as intended, it was just that none of them had ever come back. So the chances of a fiery death, though small, were nothing compared to the great unknown of skipstream space.

It was the unknowns that weighed so heavily upon them. Theories abounded from the credible, to the terrifying, to the incredible, and even the Magical. Despite his and the Terran Space Union's best efforts, he knew his baker's dozen of crew members knew all the theories and rumors as well as he did. He knew some wagers were in the offing as well, though none officially. He was even more bemused that they thought the person betting as, "James T. Kirk," was him. As long as it helped relieve some of the pressure, he really didn't give much of a damn, though the panty waisted paper pushers at the Union were apoplectic. He thought of his crew and beamed inwardly with the pride that can only come from doing the impossible. There was a deep relief he felt in knowing that, whatever their fate may be, that he would share it with him. Something those bastards at the Union would never truly understand.

Which is why, he thought to himself, you're here and they're not. It was time for them to find out exactly what Fate had planned them...

"Engine room, Bridge. Reactors to full, please," Maxwell's command, issued with a gravitas that mere tone could not provide, committed himself, his crew, and his ship to their plunge. As the guttural whinings of the Reactors winding up filled the ship he said, "Alea iacta est." To an upraised eyebrow from one of the Petty Officers he added with a wry smile, "The die is cast."

"Bridge, Engine Room. Aye. Reactors on line and at full power. All lights green. Reactor is Go." The tension that had been silently building was released. Everyone had a job which they were performing with grim, stoic excitement. They were committed. Whatever was about to happen, would at least be happening soon.

Acceleration began slowly, but between the Reactor technology and the Sun's own greedy gravity, the ship was soon hurtling towards its vast expanse of fusing Hydrogen. Instruments were checked, rechecked, verified and then cross checked. A countdown timer appeared as a watermark on the view-screen transposing the seconds counting down starting at 90. The breathing in the room varied from muted to fitful, and even Maxwell had to forcefully keep himself from holding his breath.

The timer reached double zero and the skipstream generator was engaged automatically. In an instant the ship seemed to fall out from underneath them. The view-screen went blank and the whole ship went dark; but everyone's eye's were filled with a glorious cacophony of synesthesia. They tasted dancing lights, heard soft caresses on their skin, and smelled the cold, silent vacuum of the abyss. It felt both like seconds and centuries before the lights returned, the view-screen showed stars and they're own balanced senses returned as if they had snapped from fitful insomnia to vivid dream to groggy wakefulness between shallow, gasping breathes.

Though their sense began registering correctly, it took longer for their thoughts to become organized once again. It felt as though their consciousnesses were being slowly pulled back into their bodies after a lengthy sojourn. The crew blinked their eyes and started fidgeting in their seats trying to rid their bodies of an aching stiffness throughout their muscles. They all felt deeply thirsty with the cotton mouth feel of deep dehydration. True to his position Captain Maxwell was the first to regain his command faculties.

"Crew Report!" One by one, each of the crew snapped to and reported their status. When the 13th name self reported Maxwell finally released the breath he had been unconsciously holding. If nothing else they were all alive. "Ship status," he ordered with less vigor. They were awake, alert, and the months of dedicated training had them reading their instruments with greater ease than with their own body's transitions back to "real" space-time.

After hearing from Power, Engine, Life Support, Conn, and Science, all that remained was Navigation. He had deliberately left Navigation for last, know that she had the most difficult task of them all. Even with the dedicated super computer onboard just for her and this moment. He also didn't want any of the other critical ship's information lost in the excitement of her announcement. Now though, it was time.

"Navigation?" Maxwell asked, suddenly feeling a sickening silence spreading across the Bridge.

"Sir, we did not make it to Gliese 581," she said, holding her composure with icy detachment.

"View-screen to aft," Maxwell ordered at once. Instead of the expected red dwarf, a white dwarf was ever so slowly receding.

"Well, we found a different Star at least. Do you which one, Commander?"

"Unfortunately I do Captain. It is ours."

"That's not possible Commander," Maxwell said, looking at the view-screen intently. "Our Sun won't be a white dwarf for another 10 billion-"

"Exactly."

"Years?"

10 June 2011

#FridayFlash Smooth Takeover


#FridayFlash
Smooth Takeover
©2011 D. Paul Angel
982 words


"Smooth" Tony Noland walked up the creaking steps of the old Brownstone.  Once low-income housing, the various apartments were now rented on an hourly, if not minutely, basis.  He reached the top floor, and walked all the way to the end of the hall to where a large, bear of a man was standing in front of a door.

"Arturo," Tony said genially while brushing tiny bits of lint off his clean, white suit.

"You shouldn't be here Mr. Noland," he answered with chagrined directness.  "Mr. Ferruccio said that your weren’t to be anywhere near his brother."

"I don't doubt that, Arturo, I really don't," Tony said sympathetically.  "But, things change. I guarantee you he would not say a word of objection right now to me seeing Eligio."

"I find that very hard to believe Mr. Noland," Arturo answered. "But I find it very easy to believe that you would come here to try and convince me to let you in."

"Again, I can't really say as I blame you.  Which is why, when I'm in charge, I'll remember you, Arturo.  You’re sacrifice today is really going to help."

Arturo genuinely laughed at this.  A deep, rolling rumble of a laugh that rang down the hall.  Tony chuckled, too.  He had, after all, cultivated the notion that he was more or less harmless.  At least until he had had the opportunity to seize Ferruccio’s structure, that is.  Arturo was still catching his breath when he asked through the last few guffaws, "And how am I going to help you?"

Arturo looked on with dubious curiosity as Tony withdrew a white handkerchief from his coat with a flourish.  He was too late to react when from its silky embrace Tony withdrew a snub nose .357 and shot him in the chest.  Twice.  Tony left the body where it was and walked into the room, closing the door behind him.

"How you doing, Eligio?" he softly asked, tingeing his voice with concern despite wanting to wretch from the mix of awful smells in the room.  Eligio sat on the bad shaking, huddled under a thin, dirty blanket.  He guessed that Eligio had been in withdrawals for quite some time.  Doctors would've knocked him out, but when you publicly embarrass your Kingpin brother, your comfort is no longer material.

"You got a fix for me Tony?  Just a little bit to, you know, get me through?"  He looked up at Tony with lustful hope.  Even though Tony was repulsed by the addict’s pathetic plea, he made Damn sure he didn’t show it.  "No smack, no.  But I do have something else.  Here."  Tony handed him the gun with the handkerchief, deftly removing the latter without touching the gun itself.

"It's still warm.  Was that...  I thought that was a dream."

"No, Eligio, not a dream.  A nightmare.  Your brother sent me.  He found out Arturo was skimming and wanted him dealt with.  And, you too unfortunately.  He figured you'd be passed out, so I could put the gun in your hand and call the police.  Two birds, one stone."

"What!?  He wouldn't!" Eligio got up and started compulsively pacing the room while shaking his head no.  "My brother loves me.  He says so.  He. Says. So!"

"I know, I know Eligio," Tony said soothingly, "But, you gotta understand, Giuseppe's a business man first.  And what you pulled was pretty embarrassing."

"I was just trying to score, Tony.  I... He cut me off!" Eligio's screamed echoed in the tiny space of the room, "That dirty sonufabitch cut me off!  How was I supposed to score, Tony, huh?  How!?  He knows I need It!  He knows!"

"Easy, Eligio.  Remember how many how many times I've tried to help you?  That's why I'm here now."

"But, you said you ain't got no smack, Tony.  That ain’t help, Tony, that ain’t help."

"That's why I brought you the gun, Eligio.  Guiseppe, well, he wants you to disappear.  Why do you think you're here instead of a hospital?"

"I don't like hospitals, Tony.  Guiseppe knows that."

"I get it, but see, and I hate to be the one to tell you this Eligio, but, he didn't think you'd make it.  He was mad as Hell when he called me in.  He wanted you gone, but, you’re his brother.  So he figured this was better than whacking you"

Eligio sat back down on the bed and wrapped himself in the blanket again.  He began muttering to himself and staring and a large patch of peeling yellow paint.  "He wouldn't do that."

"Eligio..." Tony said softly, putting his arm around the now shaking man. "I brought you the gun because Guiseppe is coming here.  In about ten minutes.  And he is expecting to see you marched out of here in cuffs.  And, if that doesn't happen..."  Tony trailed off as Eligio started crying on his shoulder.  Tony cringed internally but decided that absolute control of the Ferruccio gang was well worth losing a suit over.

"He would, wouldn't he?"

"He's a crime boss, Eligio, nothing, not even your beautiful mother, God rest her soul, can come before that."

"So what do I do?"

"You use the gun."  Eligio picked it up and stared at it.  Tony patted him on the back and walked out, closing the door behind him and making sure to avoid the growing puddle of Arturo's blood.  He was halfway down the stairs when he ran into Gervasio coming up.

Gervasio asked, "It’s done? "

"Almost," Tony said.  A few steps later and they heard the gun fire one last time. "Now it is."

"Uh, Mr. Noland... I know there's bad blood between you and Ferruccio, but getting his kid brother to off himself might be a bit much, y'know?"

"Too true Gervasio.  In fact, if I hadn't already killed him that gun, I bet he'd be downright pissed."




22 April 2011

#FridayFlash: An Eighth of Copper


Friday Flash
An Eighth of Copper
©2011 D. Paul Angel
891 Words

The metal in the Weapons numbed my hands. They were already cold. The sun was rising as we walked up the Mesa, but it had not yet reached inside. Down into the sunken arena where the Trial Ring was. I had helped my Master before many times but never with an Opponent like this. I was pulling out the Weapons and placing them by the Ring for Master's use in the Trial. I usually talked with Master while I did this. I liked tlaking with Master. But today he and the Opponent were talking to the Judge. They were speaking with the Old Words. It was hard to understand, but I could tell the Opponent looked pleased.

Master had explained to me before we left what the Opponent would say to the Judge. He would be upset that our client was a woman. He said there was no specific rule against women being clients, they were just forbidden from touching Coin. Since We were forbidden from representing someone without receiving Coin, there could be no way for a woman to be a Client. Our Client's husband had died though. He gave the Coin to Master just before he died. The Coin that Master now showed the Judge. The Opponent did not look pleased anymore. I was happy for Master. Master never looked pleased. Sometimes I had to be pleased for him.

The Opponent went back to his side as Master came to me. Each had seven Weapons they could use, but they could only use the one handed to them by an Assistant. I was Master's Assistant. The Opponent had six assistants. One for each Weapon. They would all offer their Weapon and the Opponent could choose which one to use. Master could only take what I offered, so I had to make sure I knew what he wanted. I was always scared I would hold up the wrong Weapon for Master. Master never seemed to worry about it though. He always won, too.

Our client sat behind me. Her whimperings and murmurs were distracting, but Master had told me to expect them. She was a simple woman. Her husband was killed by the Opponents client. It took him long enough to die that he hired Master to avenge him. The Opponent's Client was very mean. He was also very rich. The Coin my Master had was an Eighth of Copper. The Opponent's Client had a bag of Gold Coin between him and his wife. He looked smug. She looked arrogant. I hated them both.

Master returned from the Conference and knelt before me. He looked very old and frail compared to the Opponent. I was worried. Master told me not to be. He knew much that the Opponent did not. Master had many of the books that came from before The Fall. He spoke of Science, Logic, and Justice, but I found them very confusing. They only existed in the Old Words. Master did say that women once could handle Coin. They were even leaders and powerful individuals. But that no one trusted the Old Ways after The Fall. Master believed we would return there again. To the Old Ways. He said it would take many long lifetimes though. Master knew so much I believed him.

Master rubbed some sand between his hands. I offered him his Sword and Shield, but he shook his head. Instead I offered him his Spear. He smiled as he felt its heft. Master rarely smiled. But it always made me feel better when he did.

The Judge rang a bell and the Combat began. It would decide if the Opponent's client was guilty or not. Our client kept gasping every time the Weapons struck. The opponent had Sword and Shield, but Master pierced the shield with his spear. The Opponent had to discard it, but Master was now without Weapon. Master turned to me and I offered him Knives. I don't know why. I would normally offer Sword again, but Master liked the choice. He winked at me. Master never winks.

They moved about the fighting pit as the Sun climbed. They were sweating a lot. The opponent looked more tired than Master, but it was hard to tell. Master kept his distance. He never advanced. He never let the Opponent get too close. The opponent was frustrated.

Then the Master threw his knife. The Opponent easily ducked, but the knife flew past him. The Knife stuck the opponent's Client in the eye. He opened his mouth to shout but no sound came out. Then he slumped backwards into his wife's arms. He died quickly and she started screaming. The sand absorbed a lot of the blood but she was still covered in it.

The Opponent looked furious. Even the Opponent's Assistants glared at Master in anger. Master ignored them and held up his arms. He demanded the Judge hear him. The Judge rang the bell again. Master and the Opponent stopped and looked at him. Master spoke slowly to the Judge. I could just make out enough of the Old Words to know what Master said. Master demanded proof of payment. Just like the Opponent had earlier.

Everyone turned. The bag of Gold Coin still sat next to the dead client. His wife still cradled him. She was still crying. She could not touch the Coin.


11 April 2011

#FridayFlash Mea Culpa

Says it all doesn't it?

Pearls Before Swine

(I do love me some Pearls Before Swine, too)

There's been a push on the Web towards content. If you want people to read what you have to say, you have to have good content. That's the way the Proprietor of a site can reward their faithful visitors, right?

Except writing is a bit different. We don't write for just ourselves because the stories on paper are always a pale shadow of what was forged within our imagination. It's this desire to share that pushes us to write, and to wait and hope that someone reads it.

I have struggled with consistently posting because, well, there never is enough time, is there? So what time I do have, those little niches here and there throughout the week, I've spent on writing. Then, come Friday the post goes up, I tweet it, list it, and then struggle to get back on top of the little things here and there that were pushed aside to make way for the story.

So what I have been very bad about is being an audience member. I see the stories and their titles and as fascinating and intriguing as they all are, 50 something week in and week out is just daunting. So, as the mind has a wont to do, I've "compromised" by reading none. I've come to realize that that simply will not do. It is not enough to just write, I have to read and give feedback as well.

So what I am going to do now is read the two stories above mine and the two stories below in the #FridayFlash List. I also have made it habit to read the story of one Mr. "Smooth" Tony Noland each week as well. Were it not for him I would not be posting these at all, so there's a special affinity there for me. So while I will fall well short of the 50 stories out there each week, I should, reasonably, read 10%. And, a 10% that varies by title each week as well.

Such is the extroverted hermit life of the Writer's Club, eh?

09 April 2011

#FridayFlash: Yea Though I Charge into the Valley of the Shadow of Death




[Author's note] I was fortunate enough to participate in my first #5MinuteFiction this week over at Future-Nostalgic. It was a lot of fun and I decided to use my entry there as the kernel for this weeks #FlashFriday. My entry, as it appeared, is at the end. I would also encourage you to not only read the other #5MinuteFiction entries but to take the challenge!


Friday Flash
Yea Though I Charge into the Valley of the Shadow of Death
©2011 D. Paul Angel


The haggard band grimly marched through the sparse birch forest. It was getting late in the day and shadows were starting to creep through the scant underbrush. The trees were thinning, and with most of their leaves gone, there was little left to protect them from the cold, constant drizzle. Their uniforms, once the deep forest green of his Majesty's Archer's, were now mottled by dirt, blood, and tears. At least it helps them blend better into what little cover remains thought Merrill, surveying the third of his regiment that survived.

"Snow soon." Merrill's laconic second in command Jeffers commented.

"Aye. And we have at least three weeks march through hostile territory left."

Jeffers grunt in reply served both acknowledgement and assessment.

It wasn't long before the scouts returned. After ordering a halt, Merrill and Jeffers were conferring with the scouts when Prince Aeol rode up. His armor, like his horse's, still gleamed brightly. As he stopped, his personal Guard formed a circle about him; their polished halberds at the ready. They were from a southern clime and their darker skin would have already made them stand out, but their scarcely concealed contempt for the archers insured a deep rift between them and the archers. That the Guard remained well nourished, and that the gaunt malnutrition of the archers was starting to slow them created further animosity.

"Why was I not immediately summoned to this council," Aeol demanded. Merrill flinched at the voice. The prepubescent pitch was grating enough, but the haughty, spoiled tone was beginning to wear down his patience. The scouts said nothing but stared at the ground. Merrill said nothing while counting to ten and gathering his thoughts. He also had to nudge Jeffers to stop out-staring individual Guards.

Diverting away from Prince Aeol's whine he filled him in on the situation. Their presence was no longer a secret, and a larger force was gathering near a bend in the road ahead. There were more trees in the area, and they were to be trapped from both sides as they passed.

"That will NOT do!" said Aeol furiously to Merrill's plan of cutting through the forest. "I will not tolerate the King's men slinking away from battle like a, like a bedraggled beaten mutt. Everyone of his men are worth three of the vile enemy's."

"But when there are five of the enemy, your Highness, it is no longer a battle but a slaughter," Merrill replied, determined to not let the Prince's righteous ignorance get to him.

"Well, if you had outfitted your men with horses as I recommended, we would already be past this. But, since you did not we're left where we are." Merrill distinctly remembered the "discussion." He also remembered the slap he had received from one of the Guard for having the audacity to ask the Prince exactly where he should find several score horses in an isolated wood, deep in enemy territory. Merrill counted to ten once again but no longer attempted to stop Jeffers silent indolence.

"You're right of course, your Majesty, what do you recommend?" In his silent deliberation the Prince did not notice his Guards uneasy shifting. They sensed a danger his hubris was blind.

"The King's men give way to No man. No where. No time. We shall march forward. And, if they summon the courage to attack, we shall fell them."

The Scouts mouths hung wide open, and were only closed at a kick from Jeffers. Although not left with his mouth hanging open, did end have to slowly circle away from the group. Merrill nodded in hearty agreement. "Of course Your Highness, there is no other way."

Jeffers stopped mid pace to look at Merrill, trying to determine if he were truly mad. Merrill ignored his old friend's eye and continued. "My men are tired and drained, and I do not think they would follow me down such a path. But," he interjected before the Prince could demean them anew, "If one of the Royal Blood showed them the way, I know it would once again fill their hearts with courage."

Jeffers only just managed to keep his mouth closed. He turned once again towards the Guard, showing them a placid face, with only the slightest of smirks.

"Of course! That's has likely been the problem all along. You kept your greatest asset in reserve almost too long Commander."

"Of course, Your Highness. Might I also suggest that, as you get close to the bend, you and your Guard charge them. They will not be expecting that as they cowardly hide in the shadows."

"Yes of course. Their cowardice shall be our surprise! We ride at once! For King and Country!" Merrill long remembered the burning hatred on the faces of the Guard as they charged headlong towards their death.


As mentioned above, my #5MinuteFiction entry from 5 April 11 follows...

Addegan looked at meager forces below. They could well not survive the week it would take to get back into friendlier territory, much less the month march to the nearest fort.

"It's a trap, sir," his Second, Kajer said.

"I know. I just know that there's much we can do about it. We haven't the time or stores to go around."

"Then through."

"Yes."

Addegan marched at the head of the column. the men were warned, and they could easily see know that the ambush lay just ahead with enemy forces to both sides of the valley.

"For the King!" shouted Addegan, his beloow echoed by his men. Swords drawn, spears out, they charged they desperately charged enemy in a hopeless cause.

"As long as we're going to die," thought Addegan, "we die on the offensive..."



01 April 2011

#FridayFlash Excelsior Deus



Friday Flash
Excelsior Deus
©2011 D. Paul Angel

His Highness, Lord Admiral Jennar Excelsior, stood rigidly still in the center of the bridge. Awash in the cascade of blinking lights and undulating system sounds, he was the living embodiment of human nobility. Only the minor twirlings of his cape at the capricious fingers of the ship's AC gave an indication he was real and not a statue of Man's highest ideals. His eyes, steeled by the smoldering hatred of revenge, and burning with the intense fire of command, focused on the view screen. The twin stars of the Avajj 9 system, A and B, were no longer specks now, but near enough to appear as motionless disks. All around him the crew's tension was like the taught strings of a Grand Piano. And Excelsior was the Composer, Conductor, and Pianist of it all.

"Helm. Time to H'Rung Tertiary." Such was the Lord Admiral's voice that even the simplest of questions was spoken like a command from God himself.

"Three Days yet, My Liege," The Helmsman answered as sharply as he could, overpowered as he was by merely being in the presence of the Lord Admiral's force of will.

"Generals Bakker and Gmion, with me."

"Yessir," his two top Generals answered in unison.

The strode out of the Bridge and into the heart of the ship. Down a labyrinth of corridors bathed in the dull red glow of the artificial night time lights, they passed through bays of clever machinery, Knights still practicing their skills, and, of course, the housings of so many of their orbital weapons. It was at the last that they stopped. Excelsior removed his gauntlet and ran his bare hand along one of theVengaza's plasma laser tubes.

"God himself brought us here, Generals, you understand that, do you not."

"Of course my Liege!" the Generals both said, bowing before him.

"Understand, Generals, Understand. Not know, but 'Understand,' you must understand." The Generals gave each other the slightest of glances. This might not be a new question, but it was certainly a more intense version of it.

"God spoke to my father, and told him of the coming of the comets. How for 40 days and nights they would scream through our atmosphere." Excelsior regarded them with hooded eyes. "yes."

"We know this, My Liege," they answered just off syncronicity.

Excelsior struck both General's across the face with his gauntlet. "I didn't ask if you knew it," he said coldly, "I asked if you understood it. Do you?" The added inflection of the question warned the Generals of the its direness.

They looked at each other, and looked upon the fresh red pain on each other's faces before answering. "I do not, My Liege," General Bakker answered finally, summoning up the courage to almost look the Lord Admiral in the eye.

"Nor I, my Liege," added Gmion, remaining bowed.

Excelsior turned and walked to one of the few portholes in the ship. It was the last of all redundant guidance systems for the tubes, and a small reticule was etched into the transparent molybdenum. It wasn't accurate enough to target anything smaller than a Moon, but the weapon immensity meant that there wasn't anything much smaller than a moon that would be targeted.

"God warned my father to build an Ark with the most truest of believers, and DNA samples of every living thing necessary. Both Male and Female. God knew that the comets would destroy us completely otherwise, but he knew something else." Excelsior turned to the Generals still kneeling, bowed, on the ships ultrasteel grating, "He understood.

"When we return, our civilization will be destroyed. The only advanced technology will be the Ark, whose dedicated systems will be repopulating the Earth with randomly mutated clones. All else, will be gone. We will be back to to scratching our food from the very dirt of the Earth. Yes dirt," he added to the grimace on the General's faces at the thought of eating something grown from something so unwholesomely unclean and unengineered, "and it will taste the same.

"Our mission is different. We sail the Stars in the Vengaza because we are His people. And the blow, once struck, must be returned. Stronger! Let me be clear. Our mission is not one of simple destruction; it is of conquering. We go to the H'Rung to take the planet, and make it our own. For Him."

Excelsior watched their faces with satisfaction. They were, in their own narrow minded, zealoted way, quite intelligent. But they could not see the Forest for the trees. That this mission was beyond mere retribution; was far more than a return blow, had been deliberately held back from all so as not to weaken their ferocity. It was too late to change the strength of their focused hatred now, but he could certainly bend it. Ever so slightly, as the Master Pianist at the keys.

He left hem abruptly to deal with the Enchantress in a decidedly different, but equally effective, manner.

~ ~ ~

It was three days later Lord Admiral Excelsior stood ready in the Bridge as the Vengaza tore through the H'Rung atmosphere. Their welcome waited in a savage, purple plain far below. Behind him, all at attention, were his senior commanders. The Air General Bakker in his finest dragon skin flight suit, goggles at the ready with his atomic dragon goad in hand. General Gmion stood replete in the shining ceramosteel exo-armor of the Grand Knights, and bewtween them both stood the demure Enchantress. Her robe of translucent silk barely contained her otherwise naked, heaving breasts.

With the flames of entry into the hostile atmosphere finally dissipating Excelsior dismissed them to their charges. General Bakker climbed the towards the Dragon roost atop the ship, his thick, toughened riding boots dully echoing as he climbed. Gmion saluted once more in a way that seemed to foretell his own soon death. Excelsior had not thought Gmion would make it, but was pleased to know that Gmion knew it, too. He would fight all the harder to bring glory to his posthumity. The Enchantrass glided more than walked towards the Unicorn hold in the Vengaza's nose. Her bosoms swayed rhythmically with her stride, momentarily enchanting even the iron discipline of Excelsior's Bridge.

Tension filled the air.

Smoke still rose here and there from the hull as it touched down in the alien field, singing the undulating violet grasses. A ring soon formed a quarter mile from the ship: the H'Rung waited. Watched.

Through the view-port Excelsior looked out and quickly espied his counterpart. The large, offish looking H'Rung were both stronger and faster than the average man. Their thick, tough green hide was easily the equal of the lightly armored human foot soldiers. He could feel the blazing blackness of the enemy General's eye; almost smell the decaying meat still coating his tusk-like teeth.

It was time.

Excelsior's fist struck the console as he bellowed, "ATTACK!"

The top door to the Vengaza and three entire Legions of Dragons emerged. Intentionally semi starved on the trip, they saw a ready meal before them in the H'Rung, and swooped onto them breathing fire almost immediately.

Before the H'Rung could even finishing bracing for the Dragon's attack, the nose lifted and a thousand strong herd of Unicorns bearing the Enchantress and her Sisters across the plain in their silken robes. Their Unicorn's horns were shod in gleaming steel and their hooves in polished platinum, but no Unicorn would allow any cover to their silvery white hides. They rode across the plain forming a wedge aimed at the H'Rung General himself at the very heart of his Death Guard.

Behind the Unicorns the normal war horses rode. Clad in the same ceramosteel plates as their riders, the knights split into two to drive a wedge into the H'Rung. Their rider's lances shone in the midday light, glistening with their sharpened points so eager to extract the death of their foes. They, with their General, rode towards almost certain Death. Death, but for the Glory of God and Earth. Behind them came the lesser fighters. The Archers with their plasma infused, grenade tipped arrows, the men at arms with their atomically charged Halberds, and the lightly armed skirmishers who used their Shrieking Spears to sow confusion in the enemy ranks.

The Earth's mightiest of calvary was finally ground to a halt by the overwhelming mass of the H'Rungs they had slaughtered. General Gmion's Knights were soon pulled from their horses and, stripped of their armor, eagerly killed by uncivilized green hordes. Even though they took twenty or more of the savage H'Rung for each of their own killed, there were simply too many of the enemies. And being in such close proximity, not even the deadly accuracy of General Bakker's Dragon flames could effectively be used in their aid.

Instead, as planned, the Dragons split the barbarous defenders into thirds. The front third, although the most strategically important, but was deeply entrenched with the charging Knights and Unicorns. It was to the rear that the battle would turn, just as Excelsior had foreseen. He emerged in from the ship in a Chariot towed by twin Balrogs to marshal the foot soldiers to victory. Emboldened by the mere presence of their Liege, Lord Admiral, the foot soldiers, feeling the very will of their Commander and God course through them, could abide naught but victory either.

The rear left and right thirds were soon overwhelmed by the bravened foot soldiers and, so far from their own General, the Shrieking Spears soon broke the enemy's ranks, even as the plasma arrows rained down exploding, searing splotches of plasma amongst them. It was the these two rear flanks that eventually broke, just as Excelsior knew they would, running away in panic. Excelsior himself grabbed a bow and plasma arrow from a humbled foot soldier, and, from near half a mile away, aimed for the heart of the enemy General.

It was at that moment that the Enchantress herself, riding bare back on the lone remaining unicorn, stood on his hard, rippling back. She looked towards the H'Rung General and opened her arms to the air. Just as her Unicorn succumbed to a score of harsh swords, his golden blood spraying glitter across the trampled plain, she lept into the air. Her deep red hair swirled in the wind around her, enrapturing the H'Rung General in her beauty. Even as he stopped fighting and let his guard down that he could gaze longingly upon her unfettered, Lord Admiral Excelsior's plasma arrow fell from the sky, burying itself deep into his heart before exploding with a heat rivaled, only just, by the Sun.

The twin dawn of Avajj 9A and 9B cast a pale, cleansing light over the harsh battle scarred scene. The Unicorn's death throes had scattered glitter far and wide, and rainbows sadly swept to and fro, seeking for the lovers who would never return. The dragons too were dying, poisoned by the richness of the H'Rung's coppery blood. With the violence over, the Balrogs soon dissipated back into Shadow and Malice, leaving only the living humans and the dead of both Worlds. If not for the complete capitulation of the H'Rung after their General's prominent death, the Human's position would have been untenable.

As it was, Lord Admiral Excelsior alone knew just how close it had been as he walked the field. But he knew as well that God was truly on their side. General Bakker, as expected, had survived, but was morning the losses of his Dragons. It was in many ways an even harder blow after such a desisive victory for them. Excelsior had also found the body of General Gmion, alone save but for hundreds of dead H'Rung surrounding him. He ordered the General's body to be given great honors, and a statue to be erected on the spot of his death proclaiming his great deeds.

He was most pleased, however, when he found the Enchantress, alive but stunned, "I am sorry for the loss of your Unicorns and Sisters, but victory would not have been without them." She smiled at his compliment, and now that the battle was over, allowed herself the freedom to blush.

"I know, my Liege, I may also, finally, be a full woman, if you would do me the honor," she added, blushing even deeper.

"And so you shall, my Queen, and so I will," he said to her surprised face.

As they kissed, amidst the sullied ground of the purple field, the hope in their union overwhelmed the men, and it was long before the cheering ceased.