Lagrangian Waltz - Episode 1

Lagrangian Waltz - Episode 1
By: James Dubeau

Next episode here

“We must get this cargo to Naurchand four on time,” Tahnel said in an unusually stressed voice that the large green alien never used. “Our hold is carrying critical supplies for those good people.”

“Trust me. We will get those supplies in on time.” Sin rolled his black eyes as he brought the tramp freighter to a halt. A short line of ships was forming at the two large starships which loomed ahead of them. “I wonder what brought the Imperials to this system. They were not here when we landed this afternoon.”

Tahnel’s hammerhead shook. “There was no need to stop on Calenist seven. Delays and complications were brought upon us by this wretched hive of scum and villainy. The Counsel would have never approved of the altercation to our flight plan.”

“Don’t you have faith in your old pal?” a bright white smile shown on Sin’s pale face. “The Counsel’s down payment was just about enough to cover our over due debts for the last repairs and upgrades we had. Last thing we need is a bounty hunter chasing us across the stairs. Besides, it was along the way.”

“Name and ship’s log,” the communicator crackled in a sharp and efficient voice.

“Speaking of Imperials,” Sin held down a dashboard button as he spoke into his headset microphone. “This is Captain Sin Naggai of the Bolide. Our hold carries supplies for settlers in the Durorn system. Ship logs are transmitting. What’s the holdup this morning?”

“Ship’s log received. Thank you Captain Naggai.” The sharp voice crackled. “We received report of smuggler activity in this system, a pair of non-humans in a small freighter. Do not worry. You won’t be detained much longer. The recent influx of tips due to this sectors Crime Stoppers program has streamlined our blockades for efficiency.”

“I’m just passing through this sector, what exactly is the Crime Stoppers program?”

“In the Emperor’s great wisdom it was decided to offer monetary rewards for any information which leads to the apprehension of Rebel sympathizers. Tipsters remain anonymous and information is followed up with no questions asked.”

“The down payment was just about enough to pay of the debts?” the large alien hissed. “How much are we short?”

Sin scratched his pointed ears as he spoke into the microphone. “I will have to keep my ears open for any information about Rebel sympathizers. Out of curiosity, about how much would the Empire pay out for such a tip?”

The voice relaxed a bit as it crackled over the dashboard speakers. “It varies depending on severity of crimes, number of criminals apprehended, and cargo confiscated. To give you an idea, if we catch the guys we are looking for, the tipster will receive about ten thousand.”

“We are short by about eight thousand. That bastard sold me out for the credits. I can’t believe Thent sold me out.” Sin curses echoed off the cockpit interior before he politely spoke into the microphone. "Sounds like a good program you have running. I’ll be sure to notify the proper authorities if any Rebel smugglers cross my path.”

“Why did you have such an untrustworthy individual conduct our repairs?” Tahnel seethed.

“It’s not so much who did the repairs,” Sin hesitated, “but more of who was involved in the card game when I tried to pay off the repairs. Thent isn’t the mechanic, he is the mechanic’s bookie.”

Tahnel closed his eyes and brought his fingers together while whispering to himself. “There is no need to get upset. He does not know the ways. Enlightenment has not reached his soul. There is still time for redemption.”

The ship’s speakers squawked to life as the voice spoke once more. “I’m sorry but we have to detain you a bit further. We are spot checking random ships in this system for compliance with all Imperial regulations. Looks like you pulled the short straw. Please remain where you are. Our ship will come up along side dock. Is there anything we should know before our officials board your ship?”

“Everything is ship shape over here,” Sin tried to convey his smile over the audio communications. “I welcome the inspection.” The communication system fell silent as an Imperial craft closed in on the Bolide.

Tahnel opened the eye that faced Sin as he spoke. “Planning on talking your way out of this one? I don’t think it will do you much good if they have your description.”

“Thanks for the moral support buddy,” Sin sighed. “Aren’t you supposed to be the wise old sage between the two of us? You should be worried too. If they have my description then they surely have yours as well.”

“There is no need to worry. The path will lead, I will follow. That is the way of things. If it is my destiny to be imprisoned by the Empire, then so be it.” Tahnel closed his eye, returning to his meditations.

Sin cursed has he flipped switches and hit buttons on his control panel. “It is asinine to sit here waiting for the Imperial boarding crew to take us into custody. Those supplies are not worth doing time in an Imperial prison for. I’m willing to bet our lives that this hunk of junk is fast enough to get us out of here.”

Bolide’s engines roared to life, knocking the pair deep into their seats as it trusted forward. Shouts for them to stop flooded over the communication speakers as laser blasts flashed past the cockpit. The ship rocked and shook when a blast landed home, but there was no stopping the smugglers.

Laser fire upon the freighter momentarily stopped as it rocketed past the Imperial Cruiser. The Imperial ship dove into an Immelmann turn while a second gave chase. Gaining speed the small freighter pulled away from the lumbering Imperial ships.

Smoke billowed from the Bolide as Sin ducked and weaved through the laser fire. Computer brains silently crunched numbers as the pilot fought for every second. An alarm chirped as a large red button lit up. Sin’s fist slammed down on the glowing red button. In a flash of light the freighter disappeared.

Close My Eyes

Close My Eyes
By: James Dubeau

Close my eyes
Mind races
Close my eyes
Roommates fight
Close my eyes
Door slams
Close my eyes
Siren blares
Close my eyes
Dog barks
Close my eyes
Light flashes
Close my eyes
Cat meows
Close my eyes
Door rattles
Close my eyes
Alarm sounds
Eyes are open

Is There A Greater Pain

Is There A Greater Pain
By: James Dubeau

Is there a greater pain
Than heart ache
There is no bandage
That can cover the wound
No pill can be popped
To dull the pain
It just sits there
Gnawing at your soul
Sapping strength
Removing Hunger
Defeating sleep
Only with time
As they say
Along with distance
Can the soul be repaired
In an arduous journey
A quest
Across fields afar
Through deep valleys
At mountain crags
Could end the pain
But all it takes
Is one touch
Or one word
Or one scent
For it all to come crashing
Bringing back the pain
Again

Maverick's

Maverick’s
By: James Dubeau

I walked into the Maverick Bar in Farmington, New Mexico unsure of what I would find. She had to be there. She was supposed to be there. All signs had pointed to this dump on the outskirts of town, but she wasn’t there. Not in the gravel parking lot or in the Navy pilot memorabilia laden interior.

Only a handful of patrons were sparsely placed across the room. None of my fellow drinkers were too close to each other, clearly following the man-law urinal etiquette. Sorrows were gasping for air as each bottle was slowly drained. Only the bartender offered any real solace to the drinkers.

It was still early. There was plenty of time yet for her to show tonight. I ordered a Shiner and leaned my chair against the wall. Time slowly ticked by as I tipped my beer back time and again. My perch against the far wall opened up the rest of the room. Not a soul could cross the threshold without my weary old eyes seeing. Eyes which showed disinterest with the world to any who looked up from their dwindling bottle in front of time. If anyone else in the room had enough interest to look up, that is.

Rental charges on my beer started to acuminate as a forest of empty brown bottles started to grow upon the table. Solutions to my current problems were not at the bottom of any of those empties. Maybe the next would solve my predicament, or the one after that one. It really didn’t matter when the answer came, it would eventually.

Idly my fingers picked at another beer bottle label, slowly pulling it from the glass without tearing the paper. A tall drink of water which entered the saloon did not escape me. Her tight jeans and gray tank top didn’t leave much to the imagination. The bartender was dropping a little umbrella into a colorful drink as she approached the bar. With a smile and wink she snatched the drink and bubbled her way to a table. Long brunette curls bounced as gum smacked between her cotton candy lips.

My fingers traced over the corners of the photograph in my pocket as I crossed the bar for the restroom. I had looked over that picture a thousand times if I had looked at it once. It was her. I could feel it in every bone of my body.

Vacating the tavern floor for even a moment with my prey present was a much needed risk. It gave me the chance to get a closer look to confirm my suspicions. When I returned from the restroom I was relieved. Not only did my much needed piss grant me a new level of comfort but she was still seated right where I left her. Her head bobbed along with the music as she sipped her colorful concoction.

I smiled as I turned one of the chairs at her table around and sat, arms crossed on the chair’s back. “What brings you out on a Tuesday evening?”

Her toothy white smile responded to mine. “Pete used to have bitchin’ karaoke on Tuesday nights. Haven’t seen you here before, I could ask the same of you sailor.”

“Just needed some time to think, I suppose.”

“Frustrated?” she nodded to the grove of label-less brown bottles.

“You could say that,” I chuckled. “Been looking for something, but just haven’t been able to get my fingers on it. You know how that is?”

“Don’t I know it sugar,” she held her hand out. “My name is Charlotte, but all my friends call me Charlie.”

I took her silky smooth hand into mine, “Jack’s the name. My friends call me, well, my acquaintances add a certain three letter word onto that.”

Charlie laughed. “Has this dive helped you sort out your thoughts?”

“Not fully,” I shook my head. “I may have to return tomorrow night.”

“I get my best thinking done at the Blackwood downtown. Maybe you should give that one a try.”

“That just might have to fit onto my schedule before I leave town.”

She took a sip from her drink before standing, leaving the half empty glass on the table. “Unfortunately I must make this a short evening. Good luck on all that brings you to Farmington.”

“Thank you. It was a pleasure to meet you.” I had smiled and watched her firm ass as she glided from the tavern.

The conversation all but confirmed everything. She had the five-hundred thousand. Not enough to live to exuberantly, but enough to get by on for a while. She was a smart girl, no doubt she will be watching for a tail tonight. Will have to play things safe for a while and earn her trust before bringing her back. There is still time while the expense account lasts.

At Road's End

At Road’s End
By: James Dubeau

Roads are slick
Snow is thick
Driving fast
Escaping the past
High beam’s glare
Averts my stare
No need for a belt
The ice might melt
Or I’ll spatter
For it doesn’t matter
Earth will turn
As I burn
Without a friend
At road’s end

Does He Make You Happy

Does He Make You Happy
By: James Dubeau

Does he make you happy
Well um yes
No seriously
Does he make you happy
I think so
No don’t think
I can only give approval
If you can answer this question
Does he make you happy
I don’t know
Then that is all I need
That is a no
But
No
Give me a straight answer
I can’t
Then that is a no
But
No
That is a no
Live it
For it will be
Your future

Driving Home

Driving Home
By: James Dubezau

Driving home
Late at night
Belly full of beer
8-bit graphics
Fly on by
As my foot
Presses down
Sixty
Seventy
Eighty
Miles an hour
On the snowy streets
Black top slick
With wet and ice
Fishtailing through corner
While rushing home

Sea Of Subdued

Sea Of Subdued
By: James Dubeau

Red chairs
Gray tables
Beige walls
A sea of subdued
Floats on by
As I sit
Waiting
Watching
Listening
For signs of the future
A stranger passes
Looking through the doorway
I cannot speak
Move
Or even think
She is gone
In an instant
Just a flash
A presence
Barely a spec
A flash of red and tan
A floating smile
But I cannot follow
For I am trapped
Drowning
In the sea of subdued

Starlight Inning

Starlight Inning
By: James Dubeau

Scratch scratch scratch emanated from the bedroom door. Jack propped open a single eyelid. An eyelid which was weighted down with fifty pound sacks of sand. 3:39 the clock read.

Bam bam bam. The door rapt against the frame. A black paw then reached under the door, grasping for air, a loose key, anything that was beyond the wooden barrier.

With closed eyes Jack reach for his running shoes that lay beside the bed. His hand felt the cool wood floor, and then a crumpled pair of boxers, before landing upon a shoe. “I’m sleeping here,” he barked as the shoe launched across the room, crashing against the bedroom door.

The pawing stopped. Dreamland washed over Jack. A bright sunny day. Blue sky hung over head. Vibrant green trees flanked the lush green carpet of lawn. Balloons were tied to everything, the trees, picnic tables, and even the pavilion itself. Smiling people kept walking up to Jack just to pat him on the shoulder and shake his hand.

There she was. Lisa. The sea of friends and family parted, growing quiet to a soft murmur as Lisa floated to Jack. A shoebox was in her hands. It was a colorful little number, covered in pink and purple polka doted wrapping paper. A large green bow sat atop the box. Air holes penetrated its sides.

Air holes?

“Happy birthday roomie,” Lisa smiled in that cure perky bubbly way that she always was capable of. Never able to turn down the joy or happiness. “I thought that since I’m moving across country that you could use a new friend in that lonely apartment.” She bubbled over with a glee so contagious that Jack needed a glass of water just to wash the sugary sweetness from his mouth.

The top of the box popped open as a tiny black furry paw found its way from the constraints of the shoebox. “Its so cure,” the crowd murmured, “I want a kitty too,” a little girl punctuated the spectators.

Whap whap whap. The bedroom door slammed against the wood frame. Jack vaulted the other shoe against the door with a crash.

“I’m allergic!” Jack yelled.

As I Sit Here

As I Sit Here
By: James Dubeau

As I sit here
Eyes heavy with sleep
Fingers ache
Neck cracks
Pride wells up
While I sip my whiskey
Black splatters against white
Underscored by red and green
Goals are within sight
Hovering above
Just out of reach
Bouncing from my fingers
But not quite there
Not quite mine
No matter how hard I try
It remains out of reach
More effort is required
And maybe
Just maybe
Another glass

It All Hangs In The Balance

It All Hangs In The Balance
By: James Dubeau

It all hangs in the balance
And I do not know
Which way to go
Will moving a step to the left
Be my ultimate downfall
Or would going right
Bring me down instead
Neither way is up
Neither way is good
For I am standing upon
A seesaw of the damned
Children of the corn
Frolic with daemons and devils
Chanting and singing
As they circle about
Hoping
Wishing
Wanting
My utter destruction
And to feast
Upon my bruised and battered corpse