Tim and Jim's Awesome Blog: June 2010

Lagrangian Waltz - Episode 1
By: James Dubeau

“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.

Lagrangian Waltz - Episode 2
By: James Dubeau

Smoke filled the cockpit as stars streaked by. A cacophony of blaring klaxons reverberated off the metal walls. Control console warning lights flashed in a hypnotic array. No two flared at the same tempo.

“Damn this ship. Damn those Imperials. Damn it all.” Sin brought his fist hammering down on alarm override. The sound of flesh against metal echoed through the silent craft, accompanied only by crackling fires and melting wires hidden behind control panels.

“Our destiny’s path has spoken and we have followed,” Tahnel turned his head, glaring at the pilot with his left eye. The green creature hosed down a smoking control panel with a fire extinguisher. “Damage to the ship is not severe enough for the fates to demand our blood be boiled away as our lifeless corpses float through space. Shall we see if we can repair this bucket of bolts enough to continue our journey to Naurchand four?”

Sin hammered his fist into the dash. “Computer claims that most systems have been damaged, but the vitals are operational. At least they still are for now. Don’t want to risk running engines any hotter than we are running now. At our current velocity we should be able to maintain schedule.”

“The way has been decided. It was not fortuitous that the Counsel contracted us. They were right to believe in our abilities.” Tahnel removed the panel, hosing down the hidden components once more.

“Screw the Counsel. They better pay extra for the Imperial heat this cargo brought down upon us. I fear to see what my baby’s scorched hull looks like.”

“Never saw the wisdom in a light freighter named after a large meteor,” Tahnel lumbered down the hall towards the engines compartment, “a large meteor that explodes.”

“Bolide is a fine name,” Sin shouted after his friend. “It’s a name that favors the bold. The guy that I won this hunk of junk off of said so.”

Bolide stumbled through hyperspace over the next few days. Fires were put out, burnt wires and fried circuit boards were replaced, and tape held together anything a bolt would not. The pair worked tirelessly as the computers guided them through space. A second thought was not spent on the Imperials they left behind, it was virtually impossible to track a ship once it enters hyperspace.

On the fifth day the Bolide fell out of hyperspace, a star system with twelve glistening orbs lay before them. The fourth orb glowed in brilliant blues and greens, few lights twinkled on the dark side of the planet. Lighting up the night sky, the ship fell through the atmosphere.

A small spaceport on the side of town welcomed them. Scattered across the handful of landing pads were a few ships. Only a single attendant was on duty that star filled night. Wearily Sin paid the attendant docking fees and retired to the craft. Finding the shipment’s contact would have to wait until morning.

Pounding rattled through the ship as the first streams of light poured through the cockpit windshield. Pistol in hand, Sin stumbled to the airlock. “What do ya want?” he grumbled through the door.

“Open up,” an elderly sounding male voice rang through the door.

Sin shook his head, “This door doesn’t open for just anyone. Who are you?”

“Open this door. Your cargo is mine,” the voice demanded.

“This door doesn’t open for just anyone who claims to own my cargo. Prove to me that my cargo is yours?”

“The rest of your payment is in my hands.”

The airlock door slid open to revel an older man in dull brown robes with a gray beard. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” Sin said with a bright smile.

“Why do you people have to make things so difficult?” the old man sighed. “Show me to the cargo. I must verify that it has all made it here in one piece.”

Sin leaned against a wall, rested his foot on the other side. His leg blocked the narrow corridor. “Before I allow you onto my ship, may I have the pleasure of knowing your name?”

“Master Solda Kumil,” a bare chested Tahnel exclaimed behind Sin. “If I had known you were the Counsel’s representative on Naurchand I would have taken the time to dress. It has been too long. How has the Counsel been treating you these dark days?”

“It is unexpected to see one of my former students on such a ship,” Master Kumil said as he pushed past Sin. “I’m sure there is a story as to how you have found yourself in such company, but that is for another time. As for now I must have that cargo. We have been waiting for its arrival for quite some time now.”

“I went through quite a bit to get here,” Sin said as he led the old human to the cargo hold. “Ship’s gonna need quite a bit of repairs. Could use a little extra to cover the expenses and troubles it took in getting here. Shouldn’t be to much of a strain on the Counsel’s coffers.”

“The agreed upon amount is sufficient,” Master Kumil said, waving his fingers. “There is no need for additional compensation.”

“You are right. Bolide is sturdy, there is no reason for further imbursement when repairs are so manageable,” Sin patted a bulkhead as they entered the hold. “Here is the cargo. I’m sure you’ll find everything is in order. These crates have not been touched since we left port.”

Master Kumil closed his eyes. “Correct. These supplies have seen a safe, if not elongated, voyage. Open the hatch for my crew to unload the cargo.”

“Sure thing,” Sin smiled, “as soon as I receive payment.” The smuggler reminded the old man of the pistol in his hand.

“Oh yes, of course. I had nearly forgotten.” The old man fished through his pockets and handed Sin a credstick.

A team of men jumped onto the ship as the hold’s doors lowered. Quietly and efficiently they emptied the crates onto a waiting truck. Within minutes Sin and Tahnel were left standing in the empty chamber.

Sin yawned, “My bunk is looking pretty good right now. Those repairs can wait for a more reasonable hour of the day.”

“Can’t believe you let him have his way with you,” Tahnel shook his head.

“What? He paid us what we were contracted.”

“Every other time we ran into Imperial trouble you held out for a bigger payday. He used the easiest trick in the book and you couldn’t see through it.” Tahnel waved his fingers as Master Kumil had done.

“Why that dirty rat,” Sin cursed. “Member of the Counsel or not, we need to settle the score. Nobody can use such tricks on old Sin here and get away with it.”

Lagrangian Waltz - Episode 3
By: James Dubeau

Master Kumil’s truck pulled out of the starport as Sin and Tahnel rode their bikes through the Bolide’s cargo bay doors. The ship’s doors automatically locked up tight as the pair closed in on their escaping prey. Traffic was light that morning as the sun began to rise above the horizon.

The truck was waved through a security check gate in a high wall which surrounded a large mansion. A guard stood in the opening with his hand extended as Sin and Tahnel approached. Hanging from his belt was a large pistol. Two more guards sat in a shed adjoining the entrance.

“State your name and business,” the guard said as he peered over large mirrored glasses at the pair of riders.

“We are with Master Kumil,” Sin flashed a wide set of sparkling white teeth. “That truck isn’t going to unload it self. Or were you going to unload it for us?”

“You don’t look like you are here to work,” the guard eyed the large green shirtless individual on the bike next to Sin. “Even if you were here to work, you are with Master Kumil which means that you are with the Consul. The governor does not take kindly to the Consul, nor to the thugs that the Consul sends to our world.”

“By with Master Kumil, I meant that we were contracted by that low life to bring that shipment here.” Sin backpedaled, trying gain favor with the guard. “He shorted me payment on the shipment. I aim to collect, either from his wallet or from his hide.”

The guard shook his head. “That is a matter you can take up with Master Kumil once he leaves the mansion grounds. Your kind is not needed on the mansion grounds. Not to unload that truck. Not to make a disturbance with Master Kumil.”

“A disturbance will not be made by our admittance,” Tahnel said, waving his hand just like Master Kumil did back on the Bolide. “We will unload the truck and cause the Governor no harm or grief. Open the gate and allow admittance to the mansion grounds.”

“Don’t cause any trouble now,” the guard said with a smile as he stepped aside and raised the gate. The pair rode on through, looking for Master Kumil’s truck.

“Why didn’t you do that in the first place?” Sin asked his friend.

Tahnel smiled, “That is why you will never understand. One shall not use their powers for amusement or convenience, only when the proper situation calls for it. Overuse of that ability leads to misuse which leads down a very dark path.”

“Good thing that our need to get into the Govenor’s mansion is important enough,” Sin said with a wink.

“Not at all,” Tahnel shook his head, “but it was the lesser of two evils. Otherwise we would be looking for a place to hop the fence right now, and I don’t feel like getting nabbed and breaking and entering this morning.”

The truck was backing up to a loading dock on the rear of the mansion. Master Solda Kumil faced a well dressed man who was flanked by what appeared to be security guards. Sin and Tahnel ducked behind a corner and listened in on the two men’s conversation. The shouts were loud enough to be clearly heard.

“You kidnapped my son,” the well dressed man shouted. “I will not accept a payoff for him. He is not a commodity to be bought and sold, he is my son. I demand that you bring him back to me.”

“Please be calm and rational about this Governor Beltran,” Master Kumil waved his hand as he spoke. “Your son has joined the Consul us in our quest to bring the Imperium to its knees. His growing powers will bring great fame and power to your family and world. It has been prophesized that he will be a great man.”

The Governor’s face went beat red, his words rang out in a harsh staccato. “Damn the prophets. Damn the Consul. Damn the Empire. Most of all, damn you. Your kind may have sway in the rest of the galaxy, acting as a police force on the worlds that are not controlled by the Empire. Naurchand is not like the rest of the galaxy. You can not march in here and steal our children. Your arrogant actions make you no different than the Empire. At least their atrocities are more in the open, unlike your thieving kind.”

Master Kumil spoke calmly, once again waving his hand as he spoke. “The Consul protects your world from the Empire. Our aims are for a peaceful union of worlds outside of the tyrannical grasp of the Empire. Unfortunately the Emperor will not peacefully release the reigns of the Empire. Your son’s powers are strong. With proper training he will lead an army against the Empire and bring peace to the galaxy.”

“Bring me back my son,” Governor Beltran’s words echoed. “Bring him back to me or my army will bring him back along with your head on a platter.”

“These Imperial supplies will help your world and its antiquated ways,” Master Kumil nodded towards the trailer that had been detached from the truck. “With this equipment your people could make vast advances on your way of life. Maybe even become a contributing member of the Consul’s vision of a peaceful galaxy. Until that day Naurchand will be nothing but a backwater hole. A little nothing of a star system.”

“Take your blood money with you and get out of my sight. Bring back my son.” The security guards flanking the governor stepped forward. Master Solda Kumil hopped onto the truck and drove off, leaving the trailer behind.

“Kumil is not the best at making friends,” Sin said, ducking behind a bush as the truck drove by the hiding spot.

“Some days I wonder why I left the Consul’s clutches,” Tahnel’s voice trailed off.

“What do we have here?” a voice rang out from behind the pair. “Looks like a couple of spies were left behind. The governor will not be pleased about this.”

Sin and Tahnel slowly turned. Two of the mansion guards, armed with rifles, were standing right behind the pair. “We aren’t spies,” Sin pleaded.

A sharp crack echoed as one of the guard’s rifle butts slammed into Sin’s jaw, knocking the slender man to the ground. “Spies are taken out to the middle of a field and shot. Now get moving.”

Lagrangian Waltz - Episode 4
By: James Dubeau

“Explain yourselves.” Governor Beltran demanded of the two bound men before him. “Speak now or you will be shot, spies.”

“As I told your lovely assistant, we are not spies,” Sin flashed a bright white smile as deep crimson dripped from his shattered nose. The security guard’s rifle butt slammed against the pale man’s nose.

Pacing across the foyer, the old governor demanded, “Why did the Consul send you? What did Master Solda Kumil expect to gain from your presence in my home?”

Sin spat blood onto the marble floor. “Tell twinkle toes to cool his jets and maybe I’ll be able to clue you in on what’s what around here.”

The governor nodded and the rifle butt smashed against Sin’s face once more. The slender man collapsed to his knees. Governor Beltran turned to the large green individual before him. “You seem to know how to hold your tongue. Tell me why Master Kumil has sent you.”

“You are right on only one account,” Tahnel turned his hammerhead glairing at the governor with one of his eyes, “The Consul did instruct us to travel Naurchand. We were the ones that brought the shipment to this planet. Where you are wrong is on this fact, our involvement with the Consul ended with the delivery.”

“Just because my hair is gray does not mean that I have gone senile with age. Why did my men find you on the mansion grounds after? There is no excuse for you to be here. No excuse to be trespassing on these grounds. You two are either spies or thieves. It does not matter which, I just am curious before I have you shot for your transgressions. Just tell me what your mission here was and I’ll make sure your suffering is reduced.”

“That bastard owes me money,” Sin attempted to stand but the rifle butt slammed into his face once again. This time he collapsed to the floor, blood pooling.

“What my free spoken counterpart says is true,” Tahnel said. “We had hoped only to gain an audience with Master Kumil. There is no other motivation for our trespassing.”

“Suppose I believe you,” Governor Beltran said. “What do you suggest I do?”

“You could start by calling off your maid.” Sin’s words slurred, he didn’t pick his head off the floor. “She doesn’t know the first thing about interrogations.” For the first time since they met, the guard’s rifle did not find itself lodged in Sin’s face after words were spoken. This time the guard’s boot hammered into the pale being’s ribs. With a cough blood sprinkled across the floor.

Tahnel spoke calmly, his deep voice bellowed in the open foyer. “You are correct, there is no reason for you to believe us Governor. Our being on your mansion grounds does appear incriminating. I understand the position you are in and why you can’t take our word. All that I ask is for you to give us the benefit of the doubt before dispensing of us in unmarked graves. Give us a moment of your time. Let us converse about this situation. As a governor you deserve to be able to make an informed decision.”

“Walk with me,” the governor said.

“I’ll hold down the fort,” Sin mumbled. The guard’s boot thundered into the smuggler’s side once again. Rolling over, Sin lay on his back spread eagle. His eyes closed as a smile grew upon his lips. “Cool floor feels good.”

Governor Beltran and Tahnel walked side by side through the mansion. “Tell me exactly how you came to be on my premises. I want to know every detail of your currier mission.”

Tahnel spoke as they walked. “It is a simple tale. The Consul contacted us to deliver liberated Imperial supplies to Naurchand four. Our ship was loaded in Helegvreg and the only excitement was a small Imperial run-in in the Calenist system. This morning Master Solda Kumil acquired the cargo. My associate felt that we deserved additional reimbursement to cover repairs for our ship. Kumil convinced him otherwise back on the ship so we followed him here to ask once more.”

“If you wanted to speak with Master Kumil, why didn’t you wait for him to leave?” One of the governor’s eyebrows rose. “There was no excuse for you to break into my home.”

“There was no way of knowing how long he would remain here. We felt it was best to speak with him as soon as possible so that we could make repairs and leave this system as soon as possible.” Tahnel paused before adding, “The main gate guard would not tell us any information about Kumil, so we had to look for him ourselves.”

“What happened in the Calenist system? I believe there is a more direct route from Helegvreg that doesn’t involve going through that back end of space.”

Tahnel laughed. “A story as old as time itself. Smuggler can’t afford to pay for repairs. Loan shark pays for repairs. Smuggler pays off debt. Loan shark invites smuggler to a card game. Smuggler falls deeper in debt. Loan shark calls Empire for reward money. Smuggler’s ship gets shot up in the escape.”

Governor Beltran joined Tahnel in laughter. “Reminds me of day’s gone bye, back when I had a head full of black hair and a stomach full of guts and courage. I hate to admit it, but I see some of myself in your comrade’s defiance.” The pair found themselves in a library. Floor to ceiling wood bookcases filled the room. The familiar smell of musty old books reached their noses. “Do you work for the Consul often?”

Tahnel shook his large hammerhead, “Not any more than we work for the Empire or any other contractor. In times like these we find it best to not run allegiances too close to either faction. It is not good for business to be wrapped up in their war.”

“Naurchand has been lucky to stay out of their battles. At least she has been lucky so far, but it seems that times are changing.” The governor opened a large humidor, offering a cigar to Tahnel. “Something tells me that you two are more than just mere delivery boys.”

“We have been known to take on an odd job or two if one so happens to pop up.” Smoke rings ascended from Tahnel’s lips.

“About this business between us, I can forgive your trespassing if you take on one of those so called odd jobs for me.”

“We are in your debt,” Tahnel folded his arms.

The governor nodded. “Kumil kidnapped my son. I need you two to return him to me.”

Lagrangian Waltz - Episode 5
By: James Dubeau

“You do realize what he’s asking for,” Sin said as he stuffed tissues into his bleeding nose as the pair of smugglers sauntered to their bikes. “Master Solda Kumil has full backing of the Consul. Their full resources are at his beck and call. Asking us to retrieve the Governor’s son is nothing short of asking us to march to our deaths.”

Tahnel sighed heavily. “It is a tall order, that is to be sure, but it is what we must do. Trust me. You don’t want to be in the boy’s shoes right now.”

“You were able to secure payment for this operation, right?” Sin stuffed one of the governor’s cigars between his lips.

“His personal mechanics will go over the Bolide and bring her up to snuff,” the large being said, hopping onto his bike.

“If only Beltran knew how much work my baby needs,” Sin chuckled. “You are learning. I’ll make a decent smuggler out of you yet.”

Once back at the ship Tahnel jumped onto the communications system, contacting Master Solda Kumil. Arrangements were made for their ships to dock in orbit above Naurchand four. It was not long before the small freighter and larger cruiser were entwined in a tango above the planet.

Master Kumil was full of smiles and cheer as the two smugglers entered his ship. “It is good to see you again Tahnel. We have much to discuss. The Consul has changed since you left, changed for the better. You should return to the flock.”

“Yes,” Tahnel smiled, “let us discuss the Consul. I would like to hear about how everything is straight from your lips.”

“Got an infirmary on this hunk of junk?” Sin glared at Master Kumil.

“Your personality has earned you many friends,” Kumil smiled and motioned to one of the crew members standing next to him. “See if one of the medi-bots can take care of his nose.”

Master Kumil led Tahnel to the ship’s conference room. A long oak table surrounded in red leather chairs was the centerpiece of the room, a refreshments cabinet flanked on one wall. Kumil poured a couple of drinks and the pair sat. “I hate to see my former students in such poor situations. It was destined for you to be here and for you to return to us. Tell me, how did you end up with that pirate?”

“He prefers the term Cargo Acquisitioner,” Tahnel sipped the brown liquid. “He’s a good man and needed a good copilot. Wanderlust has yet to leave my veins. Shipping cargo across the galaxy is a suitable antidote.”

“You should have made your desires known,” Solda smiled. “The Consul would have given you operations across the galaxy. You could have seen more then you can from the cramped cockpit of a rusted out freighter.”

“Being independent has its advantages. I can meet with the locals, see how they truly are. Get to know them in a way that I would not be able to as a Consul representative.”

“I don’t follow,” Kumil frowned. “Everywhere I go I am greeted with open arms. Governors and peasants alike are glad to see me.”

“Arms that are opened by fear,” Tahnel crossed his arms. “When I was with the Consul I could see the fear in their quivering eyes, hear the fear in their trembling voices, and feel the fear in their souls. That fear set up barriers, barriers that prevented me from fully knowing people.”

“Those that fear the Consul do not understand the Consul. We only bring peace and protection. We are here for the good of all. Without us these outlaying worlds would be lost to chaos. Smugglers, pirates, and murderers would rule the space lanes.”

“Protection that comes from a heavy fist,” Tahnel’s clenched fist pounded the table. “The few that question the Consul fall to their blades.”

“Negotiations sometimes breakdown, I can not deny this,” Kumil sipped his drink. “These worlds are a wild frontier where anything goes. Sometimes the blade is needed to properly shed light.”

“That is precisely the reputation that invokes the fear. People know that if they do not agree with a Consul Representative they will either be tricked into agreement or killed. That is not a way to win true friends and allies for a war against the Empire.”

“Our methods may not be agreeable to you but they are lenient compared to what the Empire does. When they move in a full battle force always accompanies. A force which would not hesitate before wiping a planet clean. Those that survive live meager existences which are no better than slaves. The lucky ones are forced to propel the Empire’s military force forward.”

“At least the Empire doesn’t rip a child from his parents.”

“One must learn our ways from when they are young. You know this,” Kumil said. “It is a small price to pay to ensure peace in the galaxy.”

“If their own little section of the galaxy was left standing,” Tahnel glared across the table.

“Now we come to the heart of the matter,” Kumil patted his former student on the arm. “My greatest student would be by my side if he knew his parents. You know that there was nothing that could have been done.”

Tahnel frowned. “How can I stay with the Consul? Their great wisdom and power was not able to protect my parents.”

“Come back to us,” Kumil pleaded. “You can help those like you. Protect families of new recruits until they are old enough to do so themselves. Give up your smuggling life. I can offer you rank high enough to provide you freedom. Your own ship and crew would provide protection to those that need it.”

“You make one tempting offer,” Tahnel said as he tossed his drink down his gullet. “Tell me more of what plans you have for me.”

Lagrangian Waltz - Episode 6
By: James Dubeau

“Your nose should heal properly now,” the medi-bot’s metallic voice echoed off the sterile infirmary walls. A white bandage covered the center of Sin’s face. “Change the bandage every morning and keep it clean. There should be no disfigurement or scars.”

“Thank you,” Sin smiled, tape on the bandage crinkled with his upturned lips. The bot turned, putting away unused medical supplies and equipment. The smuggler’s fingers moved with speed and precision, popping open the bot’s access panel and ripping at anything inside. Acrid smoke rose as the mechanical man’s lighted eyes went dark.

“Let’s see what secrets you have,” the thin man said to the glowing computer terminal, pushing aside the unmoving bot. With a few clicks of the keyboard he had bypassed the medical server and was diving into the main system. Directories for operations, supplies, crew logs, and the like flashed onto the screen. Keeping his search from diving to deep into sensitive data, Sin found the information he searched for and downloaded it to his wrist-top computer.

“Something’s wrong with your robot,” Sin hollered at the closed infirmary door. The terminal screen flashed blue, Sin removed his finger from the power button and the system rebooted.

The door slid open, revealing the crewman that had escorted Sin to the infirmary. His hand rested on the holstered pistol grip. He looked the bot over, not entering the room. “I’ll call maintenance.”

“Don’t you want to see what’s wrong with him first?” Sin asked, edging his way to the opening. His eyes did not leave the unmoving medi-bot. “Could save the maintenance guy a headache by telling him what tools to bring. In my experiences a happy repairman is a good repairman.”

“Don’t know a memory chip from a potato chip,” the crewman shook his head.

Sin put his arm around the man, directing him into the room. “I know a thing or two about these bots. Let’s look at him together.”

“Hands off,” the Consul crewman barked as the infirmary door slid shut behind him. His back was against a wall and the pistol was in his hand.

Sin grunted as his fist slammed into the guard’s stomach. A hammer punch to the back of the man’s neck followed up, knocking the guard to the ground. The unfired pistol scattered across the floor. “Should work on your reflexes,” Sin said as he grabbed an anesthetic from the supply cabinet.

After ensuring the crewman would stay unconscious, the smuggler stripped and bound him. The uniform was baggy on Sin’s slender build but it would have to do. He tightened the gun belt and walked through the corridors with purpose. Crewmen he passed in the halls paid no attention to the man that appeared to belong.

“What happened to your nose?” an authoritive voice rang over the machinery noises of the ship’s engineering section. The smuggler turned as pair of barrel chested crewmembers stepped through the bulkhead behind him.

“One of the doors up on C-deck thought it would be hilarious to not open.” Sin shrugged his shoulders with extended hands, attempting to appear to not be a threat.

“C-deck is below us,” the crewman said as both slowly drew their pistols. “I don’t recognize you crewman. What is your name and station?”

“I don’t recognize you either,” Sin scowled. “Master Kumil personally sent me to check on the Naurchand boy. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do.”

“Don’t go anywhere. We shall see what Master Solda Kumil has to say about you.,” the crewman said as he reached for his communication device.

“Keep your hands where I can see them,” the other crewmember waved his pistol as he approached Sin.

Sin lunged for the approaching crewman. One hand clutched the man’s throat while the other wrestled for the pistol. The weapon fired twice before being dropped, sending the other crewman against the wall. Blood splattered across his chest as the communications device clattered against the floor.

Sin wrestled himself behind the crewman, putting the man into a chokehold. Practically climbing onto the man’s back, Sin put his entire weight against the man’s throat. Gurgling, the crewman clawed at the smuggler’s arm. Maintaining his hold, the pair collapsed. Sin sent the man following his comrade into the world beyond.

The ship’s hull creaked as Sin eyed the closed bulkhead doors. Rushing footsteps and roaring klaxons were absent. Sweat loosened the bandage’s tape, his finger attempted to secure the covering but to no avail. “They sure make you gear-heads big these days,” Sin kicked the body at his feet.

It was not difficult for Sin to find a dark corner to stash the bodies, several nooks and crannies filled the engineering section. The smuggler gambled that the bodies would not be found before he could exit the ship. He also gambled that the bulging collection of pistols around his waistline would not be noticed under the uniform jacket.

Much more machinery than crewmen filled the engineering section. The few crewmembers that were in the area were more interested in working on the ship’s machinery than observing anyone walking through their hallowed grounds. Not far beyond Sin found himself in the security area.

A single security crewman sat with his feet upon a desk. He did not look up from a datapad he was reading as Sin approached. A clear protective screen divided the room, locking Sin out. “What can I do you for?”

“Master Kumil requested to see the boy,” Sin grunted.

“Last one on the left,” the guard said as he pressed a button. The screen’s door slid open. “He’s a feisty one he is. Don’t see why Master Kumil wanted him so bad.”

Boldly Sin marched into the secured area. “Who are we to question a Consul Master? Do as I’m told with no questions is my motto.”

“Aye, and a good motto at that,” the security guard chuckled.

When Sin reached the end of the hall the security guard hit another button. With a buzz the red light above the door flashed green. The boy inside ran to the smuggler, hitting him with clenched fists as the door slid open. “I want my papa,” they young demanded. Tears welled in his eyes. “I want to go home.”

Sin grabbed the boy’s hands and pushed him back into the cell. Crouching to look the boy in the eyes he whispered, “Come with me. If you are quiet I will take you home.”

Lagrangian Waltz - Episode 7
By: James Dubeau

Sin led Governor Beltran’s son, Zachariah, through the corridors of the Consul ship. Following standard protocol for a guard leading a prisoner, the smuggler marched behind the boy and sternly directed him through the maze of corridors. Few Consul Crewmembers quizzically watched the pair boldly step through the ship. Each time Sin curtly explained that Master Kumil had requested to see the boy. Each time the crewmember nodded and stepped aside, providing ample room in the narrow hallways. Each time until the pair arrived at the airlock where the Bolide was docked.

Two armed Consul Security Crewmen stood with crossed arms at the airlock doors. The two men were the last barrier between the pair and freedom. One of the men held his hand out, motioning for them to stop, and barked orders. “Halt. What are you doing with that boy?”

Sin smiled as he stepped beside Zachariah, placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Master Kumil requested to see the prisoner, his request was most urgent. I do not believe he would be amused by any delay.”

“I was not made aware of such a request. Furthermore, Master Kumil prefers to meet with visitors in his aft conference room.” Both of the security crewmen uncrossed their arms, preferring to have a hand resting on the butt of their holstered pistols.

Sin slowly stepped forward as he spoke. “Master Kumil gave me a personal order. He wanted the boy brought to the bow conference room immediately. However, you insist the boy be brought to the aft conference room so I shall bring him there. May I have your rank and position so that I can report to Master Kumil who delayed the delivery of the boy?”

“Stop right there,” the security crewman ordered. Both men fingered the triggers, itching for an excuse to draw the weapons, while stepping backwards to maintain distance. “Hands against the wall. Do not resist or we will use deadly force.”

Bang, bang, several gunshots echoed through the ship’s metal corridors. A pistol materialized in the smuggler’s hand, bucking each time a gout of flame erupted from the barrel. The boy cowered behind the slender smuggler, seeking the only protection available in the sterile hallway.

Roaring to life, the security crewmen’s weapons fired as Sin’s shots penetrated their bodies. The air was filled with gunfire as the blasts knocked them backwards. Sin grunted in pain as a blast grazed his body.

A voice behind the escaping pair bellowed above the echoing gunfire. “Sound the alarm. Lock down the ship. There can be no escape.” The ships lighting flashed red in time with the rumbling klaxons through the ship.

“Get up,” Sin commanded, dropping the empty weapon. The smuggler grabbed the boy by the arm, dragging him towards the airlock. “Run. We are almost free.” The boy looked away from the fallen security men as they rushed past.

“He has the boy,” was shouted from behind the pair as shots peppered the corridor. Sin turned, pushing the boy behind him once again. A squad of Consul Crewman filled the end of the corridor. “Get through the airlock. Go.” Sin shouted as he drew a hidden Consul pistol. He stood with conviction in a wide stance, carefully aiming each shot. One crewman clutched his throat as he fell, a second simply collapsed when crimson splattered upon the wall behind his head. The remaining crewmen ducked behind corners, blindly returning fire.

“It won’t open,” the boy screamed as he pounded on the airlock door. Tears ran down his cheek.

Sin cursed as his shots ricocheted near a hiding Consul crewman’s head, sending the brave man back behind cover. “Get that door open or we’re both dead.”

“I can’t,” Zachariah wailed. He was on his knees pounding on the airlock door. “It won’t open. This door just won’t open.”

Boom, the airlock door responded to the boy’s pounding. Boom, a large bulge appeared in the reinforced steel door. Boom, metal groaned as the door deformed and the bulge grew.

Everyone in the hallway paused, looking towards the door with terror and question filled eyes. Even the gunfire from the Consul men ceased. Only the raging ship’s alarm and pounding of the door filled the hallway.

“Get away from that door,” Sin barked as he pressed his body against the hallway wall. The boy copied his protector’s movements.

Boom, the airlock flew down the hallway, crashing against a far wall. Standing in the shattered airlock threshold was a panting Tahnel. The large green being hefted an oversized hammer onto his shoulder. The boy’s eyes grew even wider as the stared at the large green being.

Sin grabbed the boy by his collar and dove onto the Bolide. His elbow slammed against the ship’s airlock control panel as he passed, dropping the freighter’s airlock door. Renewed Consul gunfire raked the door’s protection as security men rushed down the hallway.

“What took you so long?” Sin cursed, pressing more buttons on the control panel. Metal groaned as the Bolide detached itself from the Consul ship. Muffled yells seeped through the closed door as the freighter floated away through space. Yells which were silenced as the Consul crewmen were sucked into the darkness of space.

“Take care of this. We aren’t out of the fire yet.” Sin shoved the boy to Tahnel as he pushed past. The freighter’s tight corridors did not leave room for proper etiquette.

“You must have patience and faith. Our destinies will guide us through this mess.” Tahnel instructed as his friend disappeared into the cockpit. The towering green being crouched, looking Zachariah in the eye. His large finger wiped a tear from the boy’s cheek “Don’t worry, you are safe now. Let’s find you a safe place to sit.”

Consul weapons opened fire as the Boldie’s engines roared to life. The small freighter twisted and turned as Sin leaned onto the throttle. Explosions rocked the ship as Naurchand four grew large in the cockpit windscreen.

Lagrangian Waltz - Episode 8
By: James Dubeau

“We’re going down,” Sin cursed, struggling to maintain control of the plummeting starship. Flashing warning lights illuminated the smoke filled cockpit. Explosions rocked the Boldie as Consul weapons found their mark on the fleeing freighter. The battle lit up Naurchand four’s sky. A trail of dark smoke trailed the freighter as it fell through the planet’s atmosphere.

“Surrender yourself and we will cease fire,” a stern Consul voice demanded over the Boldie’s communications speakers.

“Stuff it,” Sin took one hand off the steering controls long enough to punch off the communications unit. The ship hiccupped and shook from the lack of control.

“Large fireball meteor that explodes,” Tahnel muttered as he strapped himself into the copilot seat. “Got the boy buckled down in back. What’s our status?”

The slender pilot grunted through clenched teeth, “Same as usual.”

“That bad?” Tahnel frowned. The large green being grabbed the communications device and flipped to the universal emergency channel. “May day, may day. Come in Naurchand four. This is the Boldie.”

“State your emergency Boldie,” a bubbly female voice crackled over the communication system speakers.

“We are under attack by a Consul ship and have sustained massive damage. We request assistance and a safe harbor.” Tahnel braced himself as the ship rocked from a direct hit.

“I’m sorry but Naurchand can not interfere with a Consul matter. We advise that you contact the Consul and negotiate a cease fire.” Tahnel pictured a cheery smile, ponytails, and popping bubblegum bubbles as the voice chirped across the speakers.

Tahnel punched the cockpit dash, shouting into the communication microphone. “Either grant us a safe harbor or we will pancake across the landscape with Zachariah Beltron. Governor Beltron will not appreciate finding out that you caused the death of his son.”

“One moment,” the voice bubbled over. The communications line went dead.

“We don’t have a moment,” Tahnel shouted at the dead air.

“Do you not have faith in my abilities?” The control joystick fought against Sin. His muscles strained, keeping the shuddering ship nimble through the Consul barrage.

Tahnel inhaled deeply, held it, and then exhaled. “Sometimes destinies need a little push to come up with the proper conclusion.”

“This bucket of bolts won’t hold together much longer. With our current rate of decent we may not make it to the starport.” Boldie entered a large roll, hovering upside down for a few moments as Consul blasts streaked past the cockpit windscreen.

“Please proceed to landing pad seven,” the cheery female voice rang over the cockpit speakers. “Governor Beltran has granted the Boldie and crew safe harbor.”

Calm had returned to Tahnel’s voice. “Thank you. Please have emergency crews ready. We are coming in hot and heavy.”

“On behalf of Governor Beltran and Naurchand, I welcome you to our planet. Emergency crews have been notified. Good luck on your approach.” Four fighters screamed up from the planets surface, streaking past the falling freighter. Their weapons were ablaze.

“Attention Consul ship. The Boldie and her crew have been granted a safe harbor by Naurchand four. Cease fire or you will be in violation of Korvalus Convention regulations.” The pair of smugglers smiled, listening in on the general communication channel for a moment before switching the system off.

Weapons fire ceased raking across the plummeting Boldie. The smugglers did not know if this was because Master Kumil had listened to the cease fire or if it was because they were occupied by the Naurchand fighters. They did not know and they did not care. The only thought that was on their mind was whether or not they would land in one piece.

The ground grew large as the smoking hulk of a ship hurtled towards it. Not having to dodge weapons fire bought Sin and the Boldie a reprieve. The ship coughed, sputtered, and shook as atmospheric stresses ravaged the damaged vehicle. Warning lights flashed upon the dashboard, no two were in sync with each other.

Greens of the vacant countryside turned to urban browns and grays. Thick black smoke trailed behind the Boldie as Sin leveled the ship’s decent. As the ship neared the planet’s surface Sin was able to gain more control of the ships decent.

“Naurchand starport, this is the Boldie. We are coming in for a landing at bay seven. Ship can’t maintain altitude for a proper landing pattern. Please prepare emergency landing devices.”

“Copy that Boldie. Landing bay seven is open for your approach. Emergency crews are in rout. Have a safe landing.” A formal sounding voice rang out.

Boldie screamed towards the north end of the city. Flashing lights directed the starship towards landing bay seven. The air above the city was still, expecting a catastrophe at the starport.

Steep and fast the Boldie shot from the horizon towards the starport. “Hold on. We’re headed in,” Sin barked over the blaring klaxons. Tahnel grasped his restraints and clenched his eyes shut.

Through the open roof of the starport the Boldie came crashing down. Netting tore and ripped as the light freighter screamed against the restraints. With a crash and thud, the ship settled against the landing pad floor. Engines ticked as the cooled.

On uneven feet Sin, Tahnel, and Zachariah Beltron stumbled through the ship’s airlock to the welcoming unmoving concrete ground. Sirens from approaching emergency crews echoed off the solid concrete walls. Fire retardant foam rained from the starport walls.

“Glad to see you made it back to solid ground,” a figure in full battle armor said, emerging from the shadows. He waved his rifle, motioning for the Boldie men to not make any sudden movements.

Lagrangian Waltz - Episode 9
By: James Dubeau

“You seem to make friends everywhere you go,” the armed and armored individual spoke as Sin, Tahnel, and Zachariah disembarked the smoldering Boldie. “First the Imperials on Calenist and now the Consul on Naurchand. The whole galaxy is after your hide and I’m inclined to give you to them.”

“I’m sorry, but we haven’t had the pleasure.” Sin glided forward with an outstretched hand. A smile reached from ear to ear. Sirens from approaching emergency vehicles echoed off the open topped landing bay’s walls.

The stranger took a step back and stiffened. “You can stay right there. Those firefighters will be here shortly so I’ll be brief. My name is Hener Hawau and Mr. Thent does not send me on social visits. I have been asked to escort you both back to Calenist. There seems to be a matter of eight thousand that needs to be settled. A matter that will be settled upon arrival, one way or another.”

Tahnel glared at the back of Sin’s head. “Mr. Thent must be an impatient man to send a bounty hunter so soon. We had only just left Calenist.”

Hener raised an eyebrow. “You have not told him of the several debts running with Mr. Thent? Skipping system is not the best way to pay off the lingering debt. Fortunately this matter is only over a mere eight thousand, otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Sin shook his head. “That debt has been paid three fold. Thent can wait a bit longer for his money. My loyalty has earned me a respite from interest payments.”

The bounty hunter’s voice boomed through the bay. “No. Payments must be made when due instead of gambled away. There is no reprieve for scum like you.”

“Tell you what. The governor of this two bit world owes us big for rescuing his son. Once we get paid we’ll meet you and Mr. Thent back on Calenist with the money and a large finder’s fee for yourself.”

After thinking for a moment the bounty hunter shook his head and demanded, “That is not how this is going to work. I’ll be taking your ship and the kid back to the Consul. I’m sure they would pay nicely to have him returned. Don’t think for a moment that this means that you are off the hook with Mr. Thent either. You will be paying the rest of your debt off in full, I will see to that.”

Sin’s head hung low. “There is no choice in the matter is there?” One hand was on Zachariah’s shoulder, the other hovered over his holstered pistol.

Shaking his head, Hener circled around the landing bay towards the ship. “Don’t even think about it. Keep that rod penned up and you’ll live to see the stars again. Back away from the ship and leave to boy to me.”

Tahnel waved his hand as the two smugglers stepped away from the Boldie. “You do not need the boy. The ship is all the compensation you need. We will meet you on Calenist with Mr. Thent’s payment.” Sin glared at his comrade in arms.

Tapping the side of his head, Hener smiled. “Your tricks don’t work on me. Now step back before I blast ya.

Several scenarios ran through Sin’s head. Scenarios where he went down blasting, scenarios where he grabbed the boy and protected him, even scenarios where he ran for an exit. Each scenario ended in the same mental position. Hener’s eyes were alive and burning, itching to use the rifle in his hands. It would be a gamble for the smuggler to go against the bounty hunter’s wishes. A gamble with the odds stacked firmly in the houses’ favor. Everything about Hener screamed killer and Sin was confident that any action against the bounty hunter would end in death.

Cautiously Sin and Tahnel stepped backwards, leaving Zachariah on the ship’s ramp. Tears welled up in the boy’s eyes. Tahnel closed his eyes. Zachariah’s tears subsided before they erupted. The boy looked Tahnel in the eyes and nodded as the bounty hunter ushered him into the ship. Slamming shut behind them, the airlock door separated the smugglers from the boy and bounty hunter.

Landing bay doors groaned as they slid open. Two fire trucks poured into the bay. Fire retardant foam sprayed from roof mounted cannons, coating the Boldie in suds. Ignoring any safety protocols the ship’s engines roared to life. Foam splashed against the concrete floor as the freighter lifted off the ground. Dumbfounded emergency crews looked on with the two smugglers as the freighter launched through the open landing bay roof into the air.

“What did you say to the boy?” Sin questioned as he watched his ship fly away.

“Only that we would find him and bring him home.” As Tahnel spoke the sound of the Boldie’s engines fluttered then ceased. Sickening sounds of metal twisting and breaking followed. “And that he should press the large red button on the copilot console.”

“They really should find a better location for that emergency fuel pump shutoff. One misstep could cause quite a catastrophe.” Sin dashed from the landing bay, chasing the dreadful cacophony. Tahnel chased after his comrade. The trucks struggled to turn in the confined space, but the drivers knew that carnage awaited them outside.

Pistol in hand, Sin followed the trail of thick black smoke that rose just out of view. As he rounded the building the trail a sight no ship captain should ever witness reached his eyes. The Boldie was lodged in the side of a neighboring landing bay, protruding at an unnatural angle from a tear in the side of the building. Shattered pieces of metal and glass rained down, crashing against the courtyard. Flames ran along the spine of the bruised, beaten, and battered ship.

Hener climbed through the destroyed cockpit windscreen, dangling two stories above the ground. Sin opened fire on the writhing bounty hunter. The shots went wide and Hener returned fire. Shot after shot rang out from his rifle, peppering the ground around Sin.

“Get out of my ship,” Sin barked as he dove for cover. “My business with Thent will be settled, but not with my ship as collateral.”

Tahnel rushed forward, leaping into the air. His massive body landed upon the Boldie’s hull two stories in the air. The additional weight seemed to have no effect on the precariously balancing freighter. Hener opened fire on the large green being as he wriggled free of the ship. Thanel leapt and dodged the blasts as they raked across the freighter’s roof.

Hener reached through the open cockpit and pulled Zachariah Beltran from the ship. With the boy in his arms, the bounty hunter leapt into the air. The rocket pack upon his back roared to life, lifting the two to the horizon.

Metal creaked and groaned as the Boldie remembered what effect gravity has upon an unmoving starship. The freighter came crashing down, billowing clouds of dust and debris enveloped the courtyard.

Lagrangian Waltz - Episode 10
By: James Dubeau

“Well, here’s another fine mess you’ve gotten me into,” Sin cursed. A smoldering landing bay girder crashed at the smuggler’s feet.

“I’ve gotten you into?” Tahnel’s fists were firmly against his hips as he leaned over the scrawny Sin, the large green being squawked like a clucking hen. “It takes two to tango, bucko. This mess is your responsibility. We were home free before fallout from your debts came crashing down around us.”

Reinforcements joined the pair of fire trucks in calming fires which spread from the Boldie and destroyed starport landing pad. Following the extra fire trucks, a black limousine bounded to the isolated starport. The elongated vehicle pulled alongside the damaged building. Two large men in well pressed suits with bulges at their armpits hopped out and directed the smugglers towards the vehicle. The pair slid through the open doorway.

“Where is my son?” Governor Beltron frowned.

“We rescued him from the Consul,” Sin nodded upwards.

“Where is my son?” Governor Beltron demanded.

“He escaped from the crash,” Sin smiled.

“Where is my son!” Governor Beltron’s booming voice echoed off the limo’s plush interior, flames upon the wrecked freighter outside seemingly fluttered for a moment as his rage released.

“He, ah,” Sin’s head hung low, “Zachariah was taken by a bounty hunter the moment we touched ground. There was nothing we could do about it. He got the drop on us. Don’t worry though. Just give us a fresh ship and we’ll save your boy.”

“Get out of my sight,” Beltron’s gaze was distant, towards a vacant corner above Sin’s shoulder. His anger was quickly replaced with defeat.

“I will bring Zachariah back to you. That is the agreement that we had made, a promise which I intend to uphold.” Sin looked directly into the governor’s eyes, peering deep into the vacant stare.

“No,” the older man’s head shook. “You have done enough damage to me and my family and my world. I should have known better than to trust you roustabouts with my son’s safety. Zachariah means more to me than you will ever know and now I have jeopardized everything. Naurchand has always strived to be a peaceful world, a place far from prying Consul or Imperial eyes. Together we have bloodied the Consul’s nose, putting my world on the forefront of their attention. Galactic law and my outdated fighters can only hold off Master Kumil for so long. He will likely turn this civilization to glass. Other worlds had been destroyed for less. I am sure that none of us will live through the day.”

“I will rescue Zachariah. I will stop Master Kumil. I will set right the things that have been set against your world. I give you my word, my word which is bond.” The pale being radiated as his words came fast and strong.

“You have failed me once and I cannot allow you to fail me a second time. Surely that bounty hunter has bargained a deal with Kumil and returned Zachariah to him. Mere smugglers cannot stand against a Consul warship. Only one option is left for me, I must bring Imperials to my system and submit to their might. Their ships will be able to protect us from the Consul. Under Imperial rule, this world will no long be free, but at least it will remain a world.” Beltron’s head hung low.

“Do not do anything that will destroy the life you love. Give me time and resources. With a ship at my command, your son and world will be saved.”

“You cannot be trusted to accomplish a simple delivery, let alone save my son. Get out of my sight before I have you shot.” Fire raged in the Governor’s eyes, a fire that burned so cold.

Exhaust billowed around the pair of smugglers as the limousine sped away. Not far behind, the firemen loaded their trucks and followed their governor away from the starport. Fire retardant foam fell from the Boldie as Sin and Tahnel watched the retreating vehicles. The two of them stood alone at the isolated starport.

“You were not much help back there,” Sin kicked a sloppy mess of foam.

“There was nothing that I could have added to that conversation. Governor Beltron heard what was said but he did not listen. His beliefs about us were not unfounded, we are not much more than space scum floating aimlessly through the universe.” Tahnel’s deep voice was almost soothing, almost, but the words did not agree with Sin’s pointed ears.

Sin waved his hand, just as he had seen his friend done before. “There was plenty you could have convinced him of. Namely, giving us a ship and a second chance. You know we would bring his son home.”

“Beltron is strong willed, doubly so when agitated. Even Master Kumil’s powers could not work on him. I can see why his son would be such a valuable commodity for the Consul. That kind of strength runs in families.” Tahnel looked to the sky, “This world will soon be a cinder, Solda will see to that.”

A speck of light sparkled on the horizon, four fainter specks circled it. “Kumil is on his way. Those fighters are doing a hell of a job slowing him down.”

One of the four smaller specks blinked out. “There is not much time for this world. Think the Boldie will fly again?”

Sin crossed his arms, “She will fly, but she will not be flying away from this fight. Beltron was promised to have Zachariah returned to him and that is what we will do. All that we have to do is rescue the boy, again, and save this world from destruction.”

“When you put it that way it sounds like a solid plan.” An engine tore free from the twisted freighter, bouncing against the concrete courtyard, and rolled a few feet before crashing against a starport wall. “There wouldn’t happen to have a plan B up your sleeve, you know, just in case the fates don’t smile upon us today?”

Lagrangian Waltz - Episode 11
By: James Dubeau

Three faint specks bobbed and weaved around a brighter speck in the sky high above. Flashes of light illuminated each of the specks in a random order. One of the smaller specks flared up brightly then disappeared. Two more specks leapt towards the sky, joining the dance.

Sin lowered his binoculars, “Naurchand’s fighters are putting up one hell of a fight. Too bad this backwater world does not have the resources to do anything more than bloody the Consul’s nose.”

Tahnel’s eyes were closed as his mind searched the feelings which floated through the air around him. “Zachariah is frightened. That is a good sign.”

“How can that possibly be a good sign?” Sin climbed onto the wrecked starship freighter. He pressed buttons on the scorched airlock door controls. Nothing happened.

Tahnel sighed heavily, he grew weary of having to explain the inter-workings of the way over and over again. “A scared boy is a boy that is alive and not on the Consul ship. So far the fates have smiled upon us. We may be able rescue him from Hener.”

Clutching the side of the ship Sin kicked the airlock doors. Clanging boot leather against metal almost drown out his shouts. “Once we get the Boldie into the air you can direct us to the boy. With the element of surprise we’ll be able to free him from that bastard.”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Tahnel shook his head, “it does not work that way. Sensing feelings is not a GPS system. I can’t just guide us to his location. All that I know is that somewhere on this planet is a boy, a boy that is terrified of what has happened to him.”

Airlock doors budged, just far enough for Sin to slide his fingers into the opening. Grunting, he put his weight against the door as it groaned open. Interior lights did not automatically illuminate when he entered. Muttering to himself Sin stomped to the ship’s cramped engineering compartment. After flipping a few switches, changing wire connections, and kicking several metal boxes, lights flickered on.

“Computers are coming back online,” Tahnel called out from the cockpit. He flipped through the emergency communication channels, metallic shouts bounced off the ship’s walls. Men shouted their status. Men shouted their attack plans. Men shouted for assistance. Voices were full of aggression, hopelessness, and pain. Voices that were cut off in mid sentence, mid word, mid syllable.

Sin reached over Tahnel’s shoulder and switched the communications system off. “Diagnostics are all coming back red,” the smuggler’s fist pounded against the cockpit dashboard. Blood dribbled from his knuckles.

“You didn’t honestly expect Boldie to fly,” Tahnel glared at his friend as he put on a headset and turned the communications back on.

“She’ll fly,” Sin marched from the cockpit.

The headset came alive in Tahnel’s ears. He flipped through the frequencies, listening to combat or static on each channel before moving on. On one of the channels the static sounded different. A little bit too crisp, a little bit too metallic for dead air. The large green being turned on the decoding computer. He turned dials and toggled switches as machinery whirled. Slowly voices emerged through the static.

“Clear out those fighters,” As the voice emerged from the static it could be recognized as Hener’s. “There is no way they’ll let me off this flea bitten world in one piece.”

Master Kumil’s voice rang loud and clear. “It shall only be a matter of time before those flies are swatted away. Once they are you must immediately deliver the boy to us. Otherwise I’ll be forced to cut my losses and turn you and him to glass along with the rest of this world.”

An explosion rumbled. “You better hurry. Some of the locals have found my position.”

Tahnel ran from the ship, scanning the horizon. A puff of dark smoke dissipated on the horizon above the tree line. The large being sprinted back into the ship with a speed that a creature of his size should not be able to manage. He shouted for Sin to follow and within moments the pair were on their bikes. Trees whipped by as they headed away from the civilization and into the wooded unsettled lands.

It was not long before they came across a small squad of men which lain hidden behind fallen logs as weapons fire raked above their heads. Blasts which came from a small starship covered in camo netting and underbrush. Each time a soldier returned fire his location was saturated with gunfire. A few lay sprawled out, their lives already taken from them.

The pair hopped from their bikes and skirted around the ship on foot. They stuck to the shadows, evading notice from the combatants. Neither the Naurchand soldiers nor the bounty hunter would be pleased with the sight of the smugglers.

“What do you think?” Tahnel whispered once they reached a resting point behind a thick fallen tree trunk.

“We need to close the distance, get into that ship, subdue Hener, and rescue the boy.” Sin said with a gleam in his eye.

“Let me get this straight. You want us to trample our way through thick underbrush, quick enough to avoid being picked up by the guns but steady enough to not lose our balance. Then we need to open a locked starship door without setting off alarms. Finally, we need to hope that the deadly bounty hunter has not noticed us and is distracted enough by those troopers for us to sneak through his ship and incapacitate him. Is that what your plan is?”

“Yep.”

“Well, when it is put like that it just sounds so easy.” Tahnel rolled his eyes.

“I’m glad that you agree with me,” Sin said with a wink. The smuggler vaulted over the fallen log and sprinted towards the fortified starship. Ducking under tree limbs and leaping over underbrush as he went.

“May we be guided properly down the way,” Tahnel whispered to the heavens before following his counterpart into the jaws of danger.

Lagrangian Waltz - Episode 12
By: James Dubeau

Over fallen trees and through the clawing underbrush the pair of smugglers sprinted. Their destination, a starship with guns that kept Naurchand soldiers pinned down, lay before them in the brush. A brush covered root tripped Sin, bringing him to one knee, but he pushed off the muddy ground and kept running while barely breaking his stride.

Blasts continued to ring from the guns atop the bounty hunter’s starship. Blasts which clawed at leaves and chewed into trees. Blasts which were focused upon the Naurchand soldiers. Blasts which were oblivious to the assaulting pair on the flank.

With the sprint behind them Sin stood hunched over at the starship’s airlock door, outside of the guns firing arcs. His hands were against his knees as he caught his breath and looked up towards his towering friend. “Nothing like a morning sprint to get the blood flowing,” he wheezed.

“The way guides and protects us,” Tahnel removed burrs from his clothing. Their Velcro-like surface clung tight.

Having regained his breath, Sin crouched at the airlock door’s control panel. The multi-tool in his fingers moved deftly in his fingers. It clicked and whirred each time it changed functions and changed shape to accomplish each step in the process. Within moments the airlock door shuddered as it slid open.

“More like the luck of the smuggler is upon us,” Sin smiled as he stepped over the threshold and into the starship. A small darkened airlock room greeted the pair as they entered. A single space suit hung on one wall, a suit that had seen better times. At the far end of the closet sized room lay another door, a door which opened at the press of a button.

Sin drew his pistol as he stepped from the airlock. Tahnel followed his friend, fingers flexed around his hammer’s haft. The pair moved silently through the starship. Hener’s voice echoed through the hall, confirming they were headed in the correct direction.

“Get those fighters cleared up yet?” the bounty hunter demanded. “My sensors are picking up some larger vehicles headed my way.”

“A bounty hunter of the caliber you pretend to be should not be worried about a few measly tanks,” a cold voice crackled over the communication system. “What kind of pathetic ship do you have?”

“She is built for speed, not for combat. A trait which a jarhead like you just wouldn’t understand. I cannot risk damaging my ship or losing my cargo. Now, have those fighters been cleared out or am I going to have to return the kid?”

“Only three remain. A number which I’m sure a fast ship such as yours should be able to evade.”

“Just keep them off my back and light up any ground based guns that pick me up. I’ll be docking with your ship shortly.”

“We aren’t going anywhere,” Sin grunted, standing in the cockpit doorway. His pistol was leveled at the bounty hunter.

Hener swiveled in his chair, his hands partially raised at the elbow. “You didn’t have to come all this way to pay off Mr. Thent.”

“We’ll be taking the boy now,” Sin spoke through clenched teeth. “Play your cards right and you’ll live to collect on my debt.”

Hener’s head hung low, submitting to Sin’s demands. “He’s tied up in my cabin. First door on the left.”

Pistol still trained upon Hener, Sin partially turned and nodded for Tahnel to retrieve the Governor’s son. The cockpit door slammed into Sin as the bounty hunter’s fist slammed against his jaw. The pistol clattered against the corridor’s floor on the other side of the closed cockpit door as the smuggler staggered. Hener had leapt to his feet, pumping his fists into Sin’s exposed ribs.

Ignoring the blows for a brief moment Sin wrapped Hener in a bear hug. Staggering in the cramped compartment, the pair crashed against the control panel. Lights flashed, alarms buzzed, and a computerized voice indicated that the autopilot had been engaged. The two fell to the floor as the ship shook and rocketed into the air.

“What’s going on in there,” Tahnel shouted, his fist pounded against the door’s control panel. The door would not budge. Usage of the hammer may be in order.

Wrestling for position the smuggler and bounty hunter rolled on the floor. Sin wiggled his way to the top, pinning the bounty hunter to the floor. “Secure the boy,” Sin grunted, his clenched fist pummeled Hener’s jaw.

Tahnel stowed his hammer and supported himself against the walls in his search for Zachariah Beltran as the starship climbed steeply. Inside the captain’s quarters the large green being found the boy tied to a chair at a cluttered desk. Datapads fell as the boy’s chair swiveled in place. Ropes held him in place and tears dampened the white rag stuffed in his mouth.

“You are going home now,” Tahnel smiled as he crossed the cabin. Calming waves radiated through from the smuggler. Zachariah’s tears dried up and his cheeks bubbled into a smile under the rag.

The ship rocked violently as a missile exploded just below in an engulfing fireball. Engines sputtered and blinked out in the blast, sending the ship plummeting though the atmosphere. Tahnel was knocked from his feet as fear reentered the boy.

As suddenly as the engines had cut out they roared back to life. The acceleration cleared the desk, showering Tahnel in datapads. Blasts from the Consul ship in orbit streaked down past the ship, obliterating the planet bound weapons platform which had sent up the missile.

“Evasive maneuvers,” Hener screamed at the autopilot as the explosion knocked Sin away. He continued yelling as the ship fell and the pair fought for dominance. When the engines kicked on the bounty hunter had Sin pinned against the floor.

“Engaging evasive maneuvers,” a feminine voice cheerily chirped as Hener’s fist slammed into Sin’s jaw, returning the pleasantry. The ship began to dodge and weave through the air as it continued rocketing towards space.

The bounty hunter manhandled the pinned smuggler into a shiny pair of linked bracelets. Sin struggled, kicking and attempting to roll free.

Hener grabbed Sin’s shirt and pulled him close, face to face. “Looks like Mr. Thent will have to cut you up into little pieces and sell you off to cover your debts.” Sin spat a mouthful of phlegm into the bounty hunter’s eye. Hener threw the smuggler down, knocking his head against the hard metal floor.

Sin’s eyes glazed over as his world turned black.

Lagrangian Waltz - Episode 13
By: James Dubeau

“Get up,” echoed off metal walls. Jarring pain of a battered body brought reality crashing back to the unconscious smuggler. A booted foot had decided that the best nesting grounds lay in Sin’s ribs. His mind rushed through his body, surveying each limb, finger, and toe for appreciable damage. No sharp pains from broken bones or open wounds seemed to be present.

“Get up,” once again echoed above Sin. The smuggler rolled, cushioning the second kick, and his handcuffed arms wrapped around the boot. With a jerking motion the boot was twisted ninety degrees, sending the attached leg and body crashing to the metal floor.

Sin leapt upon his fallen foe. Fingers squeezed into a fleshy neck. “And stay down Hener,” his voice trailed off. The face that stared up at him was not Hener’s.

The smuggler leapt to his feet, backing from the man on the floor. Laying at his feet was a human dressed in a uniform as black as night. Emblems upon his shoulders declared that he was an Imperial colonel.

The room was surgical white, save for the gray table and two red chairs. Standing in front of the only entrance of the room stood a guard. His dark uniform contrasted the stark white walls, making him almost as imposing as the pistol in his hands. Scents of sweat, blood, and disinfectants wafted through the room, an Imperial interrogation chamber.

Backing away, Sin practically fell into one of the chairs. “You aren’t Hener. Where am I? What is this, hell?”

“No Mr. Sin Naggai, Captain of the space freighter Bolide. This is not hell and I am most certainly not the bounty hunter Hener Hawau. Rest assured though that some do call me the devil. Hener most certainly did,” the colonel spoke as he rose, joining the stunned smuggler at the table. A gleam shown in his eye. “I am Colonel Gerhard Voshage and you are upon my ship, the ISD Valiant Quasar.”

“A nice ship indeed,” Sin’s fingers traced the faint reminders of blood stains upon the tabletop. The presence of an Imperial Intelligence officer can only mean bad things. There would be no easy talk to get out of this one.

“Do not worry. I will not hold your aggression towards me against you. I was merely conducting a test to see if you were truly the man that your file says you are. However it was fortunate that you let go when you did, otherwise I would be having this conversation with a charred cinder.” The guard grunted as the colonel spoke. “You are one dangerous individual, wanted in eight Imperial star systems for various counts. Most recently an offence was leveled against you for evading an Imperial blockade on Calenist seven. A blockade which, if I’m reading this correctly, was designed to catch the Bolide and her stolen cargo before reaching this system.”

“Looks like your jackbooted soldiers need to work on their blockade skills,” Sin said defiantly. “All it took was a heavy foot to hightail it out of that system.”

Colonel Voshage studied his datapad. “Your record also shows a certain willingness to work for the Imperial cause. A fact which led many Imperial pursuers down a path of leniency, to allow your trail grow cold when justice could have been delivered.”

“So then I’m free to go?” Sin held his cuffed hands up to his captor. His eyes were wide in that doe eyed look of newborn kittens.

“Not quite,” the colonel laughed. “Your file portrays you as a blunt object. Major Weston likened you to a hammer ready willing to smash through the plate glass window of societal norms. Your methods are blunt, but results are always produced. However, I see a Sin Naggai that lives between the lines of this report. A man that has a follower of the way as a copilot cannot be as straight forward as these words portray.”

“What are you getting at?” Sin’s eyes grew heavy at the colonel’s droning tones.

“Eight worlds are demanding your apprehension. Six warrants that demand the rest of your short life be lived out from behind bars. Two warrants for your head on a pike. Eight calls of action that can be silenced by one stroke of my pen.”

“What do ya got?” Sin defiantly barked. An Imperial Intelligence colonel giving out unprovoked deals reeked with the stench of death.

“I want Master Solda Kumil. I want him alive. You will bring him to me.” The Imperial colonel’s fist crashed against the table, punctuating his words.

“And you expect me to do this how?” The sarcasm was thick in Sin’s voice.

“The boy will be released to your custody. Use him to lure Master Kumil from his ship to the planet’s surface. That is all that I request of you.”

“Tahnel comes with me,” Sin’s eyes narrowed.

“He is a good first mate to hold onto. None of our techniques could break his spirit or get a word out of him. He will be released as well.”

“Let’s talk turkey,” Sin leaned back in his chair, feet firmly on the tabletop. “I can deliver Kumil, but I need our records wiped clean, a fresh ship, and any Imperial presence removed from this star system.”

“Those are some bold demands for someone that has no stake in regional politics. Governor Beltran has requested that Naurchand be protected by Imperial forces. It was something about requesting freedom from the Consul’s persecution, a stance that I can’t fault him for having. Why do you care if this system is under Imperial protection or not?”

“Over zealous demands gives me a chip to give away in our bargaining,” Sin’s statement was brought home with a knowing wink and nod.

“Glad we got that out of the way early then,” Colonel Voshage shook his head. “Hener’s ship is yours and your records will be cleaned up once you have brought Master Kumil to me.”

“Before.”

“Before?”

“Before.” Sin’s gaze locked with Colonel Voshage. “We both know that this plan suicide mission. The fact that you voiced this plan shows that there is at least an insignificant chance that Master Kumil will be lured to the planet’s surface. Whether or not I survive is inconsequential to you. In fact, if I wind up dead then all the better for Imperial Intelligence. So, if I’m going to die doing your dirty work then I want to die as a free man. Or are you afraid that somehow I’ll escape and put a black mark upon your impeccable record?”

“Airlock him,” Gerhard dismissively waved his hand.

“Before,” Sin growled.

Colonel Voshage sighed and made some notations on his datapad. “Take him to the hanger. By Imperial decree, all charges upon you and your crew from Imperial controlled systems will be dropped by the time you leave this ship.”

The guard led Sin from the interrogation room, his pistol found a home in the smuggler’s kidney. Tahnel was directed out of another room and the pair marched side by side down the corridor. “We going to be thrown from the nearest airlock?” Tahnel flexed, testing the tension in his bindings.

“Believe it or not, but I think we made a deal,” Sin walked in step with his friend.

“Ahhhh, then we’ll live to see tomorrow.” The large green being’s voice boomed with joy.

Sin’s head hung low, “Most likely we will not.”

Lagrangian Waltz - Episode 14
By: James Dubeau

“They’re shooting at us,” Zachariah Beltron yelled, struggling to fasten his harness. The ship rocked as an explosion engulfed the cockpit windshield.

“Thought you said the Imperials made a deal.” Tahnel’s voice was laden with concern. His large green hands carefully clasped the boy’s harness, securing the tether.

“Did you honestly expect anything else?” Sin said through gritted teeth. Hener’s tiny ship spun and dove as colorful blasts of light streaked past the cockpit windows. The pair was pressed into their seats, engines roared to maximum output. “They gotta make it look good, mate. Fortunately that bounty hunter knew how to supe up a ship, she really has some get up and go.”

“What charges they take that bounty hunter in on?” Tahnel took great interest in the Imperial ship which grew smaller behind them as a squad of fighters grew larger.

“Illegal weapons charges, out of date hunting license, transporting a minor without consent. It doesn’t really matter. Colonel Voshage would have found something, or created something, to put that scum behind bars.” Strain shown in his voice as the ship climbed sharply. Imperials were not shaving points on this one.

“Glad to see you were able to make it out of there,” a friendly voice chirped over the communications system as the Consul ship grew to a discernable shape in front of them. “Were you able to keep the child away from the Imperials, Mr. Hawau?”

“Get these Imperial fighters off my ass and we’ll talk,” Sin barked into the communication system microphone.

“I’m sorry, but we cannot interfere at this time. Once you are to our fighter picket line you will be safe. Even the Imperials respect the Thangil Convention regulations.”

“Can’t,” Sin snapped. Colorful blasts from the trailing fighters streaked past.

“Can’t?” confusion rang through the voice. “Is this not Mr. Hawau? Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”

“Put Master Kumil on the line. Put him on or the kid and I’ll turn around and face those Imperials on our own.” Sin growled through gritted teeth.

“One moment sir,” cheeriness had left the voice and was replaced with a seriousness reserved for bankers and lawyers. Within a few moments Master Kumil’s voice boomed over the communications system demanding as to who was in possession of Hener Hawau’s ship.

“Sin Naggai, do you remember me?” Joy rang through his voice even though blasts from the following fighters raked across the ship. “Hener has been detained by the Imperials, but I got a deal for you.”

“What can you possibly say that would make me want to deal with the likes of you?” Master Kumil was not amused at speaking with a smuggler that had made a fool out of the Consul a few short hours before.

“Current events had forced me to change my opinions on several subjects. Namely, that in order to survive in the galaxy one must travel light. The kid and your old student are dragging me down.”

Solda practically salivated as he spoke, “I will make it well worth your wild to bring them both to me.”

“What are you doing?” Tahnel seethed.

Sin winked at his partner. “I’m not going to ask for much, just three simple requests. You can start by getting those damn Imperial fighters off my ass.”

“Can’t do that,” disappointment dripped from his voice. “Come to me and my picket line will protect you.”

“I don’t care what you can and can’t do and I don’t trust you either. This ship is headed to Naurchand four for a neutral location for the handoff. Just distract them long enough for me to get to the planet’s surface.” The starship rocked as an explosion tore at its soft underbelly. Imperial aim had gotten better.

“There isn’t much that can be done to help you, but I’ll give the authority to move the picket line forward.” Master Kumil’s proud voice was heavy with defeat. “If the fates will it, the presence of our forces will frighten the Imperials into breaking off the pursuit. Odds are they will just roll into a dogfight with our fighters, claiming that we moved into a threatening position. There is a chance they will hesitate and regroup into formation before attacking which should present to you an opportunity to escape.”

“Secondly, I need to have all negative implications against Tahnel and myself removed from the Consul record.” Sin’s brow furled as the ship doubled back towards the Imperial fighters, sending them scattering to avoid collision. Within moments the attack ships had regrouped behind the fleeing ship.

“An interesting request, but attainable.”

“Least I could do before handing the old boy off to you. Besides, I don’t want to have any known associates in my file that steeped in criminal activity.” Sin grinned through clenched teeth as he spoke. “I want the records cleaned before we meet.”

“Thanks, I think,” Tahnel glared at the pilot.

“That will not be a problem,” Master Kumil’s voice returned to the authority that it originally had. “What is your third request?”

“Cold, hard, credits,” Sin laughed. “The same amount you were offering to the bounty hunter.”

“Done,” Solda’s voice was quick to interject.

Sin’s voice was silky smooth. The Imperal fighters were all but forgotten about as he relished the negotiation victory over the Consul Master. “Good. I’ll send the coordinates for the meet to you once I’m on the planet. Come alone. I still don’t trust you but I would trust a squad of Consul Soldiers much less.”

Sin flicked off the communications system and threw down the microphone, cutting off Master Kumil’s chance for a rebuttle.

“What in the wild dark matter do you think you are you doing?” Rage grew behind Tahnel’s eyes, his voice quivered on the verge of shouting.

“Relax,” Sin said slyly, “I got everything under control.” The starship rocked as another missile exploded nearby, engulfing the small ship in a red hot fireball.

Lagrangian Waltz - Episode 15
By: James Dubeau

Sin slowly stepped from the shadows of trees surrounding the clearing as a small shuttle slowly descended. His arms were extended, palms to the sky. Even with a pistol hanging from his waist, Sin showed nonviolent intentions. Within moments the shuttle touched down and Master Solda Kumil emerged.

“Bring them to me,” Kumil demanded. Greed shown in his eyes and his hands rubbed together in anticipation.

Sin slowly twirled, showing that the pistol at his waist was the only weapon on his body. “Did you take care of what I asked?”

“The records are clean and I have your money.” Master Kumil jerked his head towards the ship. “Why don’t you escort them onto my ship, we can exchange for the money there.”

“It don’t work that way,” Sin shook his head. “Our previous encounters have left a sour taste in my mouth. How can I trust that you have the money and that you have done what you said you would?”

“Your presence is strong,” Kumil shouted over Sin’s shoulder. “Tahnel, come out here with the boy. Tell this rapscallion that I speak the truth. Tell him that a Consul Master’s word is his bond.”

Tahnel and Zachariah Beltran stepped from the brush, their movements were slow and deliberate as their hands and feet were bound. Tears streamed down the boy’s face as he silently cried. The large green one closed his eyes and nodded, “he speaks the truth.”

“Just because a Consul Master keeps his word doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have something devious up his sleeve. Now, toss the money to me.”

“If you must insist,” Kumil chuckled. He tossed a small cylindrical tube towards Sin.

Sin never took his eyes off the Consul Master as he allowed the credstick to fall at his feet. “Be a pal Tahnel and make sure it is all there.”

The large green being took baby steps across the clearing, the bindings clinking with each step. Zachariah clutched to Tahnel’s side, not letting go. “Looks like its all here,” his monotone voice rang out.

“Good,” Sin smiled as he held out his hand for the device.

Solda’s ship exploded in a massive fireball, nearly knocking him from his feet. Zachariah hid behind Tahnel, who covered the boy with his massive body. Sin did not as much as flinch from the blast. An Imperial shuttle streaked from the horizon, landing in the clearing. Colonel Voshage emerged, a squad of soldiers followed, circling around Solda. Their rifles were leveled at the Consul Master.

“Sorry about the ship, but you know how these things go.” Voshage smiled.

“What are you doing here?” Solda’s staccato voice punctuated each word.

“Every chance to take down a Consul Master is a chance worth taking,” the Colonel laughed. “Armies of the Consul and their allied worlds would loose much strength if Masters were not at their helm. Your little war against the Empire can easily be squashed out of existence once enough of your kind are brought to justice. Citizens of the Empire don’t need this war. They don’t need this fighting. They don’t need the loss of life that spans the galaxy. They need what they had, what you are trying to take away from them, a government that will protect against all threats. That is something that your pathetic little Consul could never provide.”

“All threats?” Solda spat. “The Empire is nothing but a tyrannical rule that maintains peace and protection through an iron fist. Citizens fear the Imperial police. They fear that a single misstep would have them taken away to work camps or killed. Imperial rule is an iron fist that is a threat to the citizens of the galaxy. Fortunately your iron fist allows worlds to slip through its fingers the tighter it grasps. Worlds which have seen the light and will not take your threats and lies any longer.”

Voshage yawned, “This is a debate that would best to have on the floor of government. Unfortunately I have no time for this conversation at this time. Throw down your weapon and there will be no harm done to you or your crew above. You are out numbered, there is no escape. Just give up now before I am forced to shed your blood.”

“You can pry my sword from my cold dead hands,” Solda growled. The blade seemingly materialized in his hand as he leapt towards one of the Imperial soldiers. Sunlight glinted off the blade as it slashed across the soldier, blood sprayed from the deep wound. Before the man began to fall the Consul Master’s foot connected with a soldier’s jaw while his sword cut deep into another. Master Kumil’s blade, feet, and hands worked efficiently, killing each soldier before the first one hit the dirt ground. His sword was leveled at the Colonel’s throat.

“Still as swift as ever,” Colonel Voshage glared at Kumil. A drop of blood splattered onto his pressed uniform.

“With a single swipe of this sword I could end you. However the Consul teaches peace and forgiveness. Toss your pistol away and you shall live.”

Voshage slowly unlatched his pistol’s holster and retrieved the weapon. His eyes never left Solda’s and Solda’s eyes never left his. With a sigh he tossed his pistol a few feet into a patch of grass. “Do this old soldier one favor, Voshage raised his chin, exposing his throat to the dripping crimson blade, “death by your hands would give me an honorable end.”

Master Kumil paused for a few moments before withdrawing his weapon. “I seem to have dropped my weapon,” he said tossing the sword a few feet beyond the pistol.

Colonel Voshage’s eyes narrowed, seeing the gift that Master Kumil had given him. Time stopped for the pair as they sized each other up. Much was uncertain for to two in the near future, however one thing was certain. In a few short moments one of them would be dead.

Lagrangian Waltz - Episode 16
By: James Dubeau

Master Solda Kumil felt Colonel Voshage’s hot stale breath against his skin. The Imperial’s face became a landscape, every pore a crater, every wrinkle a canyon, and every hair a forest. Rumblings under the surface would telegraph his thoughts, his reactions. The subtlest clue would give away what move the officer would make.

Voshage did not flinch at the opening, the gift, presented to him. Throwing away one’s weapon was a peculiar move, but not an unwarranted one. As a self proclaimed peace loving Consul Master, Kumil’s lust for death would be tempered by maintaining the moral high ground. Taking a prisoner would not satisfy him now. Not after his blade had drunk from the squad of soldiers. Not while his ego soared, contemplating crushing the entire star system with a single thought.

It was the gleam in the corner of the Master’s dark blue eyes that truly gave him away. The gleam told a frightening story for anyone that dared to be close enough to read it. Voshage peered over the edge, diving deep into the tale. A story of rage, a story of revenge, a story of death screamed. In this story two beasts fought for glory. Tearing flesh and bone asunder, bathing in sticky warm blood until one was dead. A fight for honor that only one could win, only one would live.

The old Colonel felt the old ache in his knee and his back threatened to spasm. Maybe ten years and twenty pounds ago he could have taken on the Master at his own game. Interrogations, commanding troops, and piles of paperwork had taken the fighting edge and left a soft lump of flesh.

An honorable warrior’s death was not to be granted. Only a scramble for life is all that remained for Voshage. Death irons will strike in a hot flash of action, bringing heat to melt away guilt for killing.

A breeze rolled through the clearing, picking up heat from the burning starship wreckage. A bead of sweat rolled down the Colonel’s forehead, the Master’s stayed dry. Trees surrounding the clearing rustled. A single leaf fell.

Imperial Colonel Voshage dove for his pistol. Blades of grass sliced his flesh as extended fingers grasped the weapon. The steel felt cold upon his skin, it felt at home.

Consul Master Solda Kumil sprinted for his sword. His legs screamed, desperately pumping each footstep. Grinding and churning air, air which felt like molasses as time slowed. The sword jumped into his outstretched hand.

Rolling through the grass, Voshage jerked the trigger. The weapon bucked and the shot went wide. Remembering his training he squeezed the trigger. The second shot homed in on its target.

A silver fan flashed across Kumil’s body. A flick of his wrist had brought the sword around, deflecting the pistol shot. Before the blade finished twirling he leapt into the air, pouncing towards the Colonel as a tiger upon a wounded gazelle.

Squeezing, the pistol barked once more. Center mass is what the spit of fire lunged for. Kumil’s feet had left the ground before the shot found its home.

Grunting in pain, the graceful leap stuttered. Flesh singed, cloth tore, as crimson splashed from the Master’s leg. His sword awkwardly swung as he landed hard.

Steel impaled turf, a blade of grass was cut in two. Voshage rolled away from the strike. His pistol fired across his body, jerking each shot. Several quick strikes against a closing foe raised the odds. Voices of an old instructor filled his head, demanding that with enough carnage in the air, something will die.

As he landed, Kumil rolled off his injured leg. Dirt and blood flew into the air as his sword followed his movement, arcing upon his prey. Silver grew crimson as the blade found its home, digging deep into flesh, sinew, and bone. The weapon jerked free as pistol shots pierced his skin, knocking him to the ground.

Reds mixed with greens as the two men’s veins poured onto the clearing floor. The breeze and rustle of trees was punctuated with the men’s heavy breathing. Both lay on the cool ground, attempting to well up the strength to strike once more.

Voshage’s eyes flickered open, squeezing the trigger once more. Only a resounding click met his ears. The weapon faltered in his blood soaked hands. Memories of the screaming drill instructor flashed back across his mind. Memories screaming for him to move. Screaming to eject the magazine. Screaming to reload the weapon. Screaming to finish his opponent.

Kumil propped himself to his knees, his sword dug into the ground as it supported his weight. Red seeped across his clothing. Blood ran down his arms as strength returned to his trembling fingers. The blade thirsted for death. It hungered for the soul of the man which brought pain. A fire burned deep in the Master’s belly, a fire which gave him strength. The sword raised high above the Colonel’s body.

Twin explosions rocked the clearing. Master Solda Kumil fell, his sword clattered on the clearing floor. Colonel Voshage twitched one last time as his unblinking eyes gazed to the sky. Both men lay in the clearing, unmoving. Only their blood was alive enough to flow.

Smoke rose from the barrel of Sin’s pistol.

Lagrangian Waltz - Episode 17
By: James Dubeau

A breeze ruffled Sin’s jet black hair as he wearily stepped up the Bolide’s boarding ramp. Over his shoulder the skeletal remains of the Naurchand starport looked on. Girders jutted into the air, waiting for skin and form. Like maggots eating dead flesh around a wound, construction workers cleaned debris from the building in preparations of reconstruction.

There were no crowds surrounding the Bolide. There was no fanfare for the smuggler. Citizens did not know the precipice of danger which they had been dangling over. They did not know who the true heroes were that saved the world and what sacrifices had been made.

“Ready to hit the stars?” Tahnel put down the welding torch as Sin entered the cockpit. The acrid Scent of burnt metal filled the cramped quarters. Spare parts cannibalized from a nearly demolished starport had been hastily installed, jury-rigging the Boldie to a flyable state.

“Did we do the right thing?” Sin threw himself into the captain’s chair. Governor Beltran’s dressing down was still fresh, his words still stung. There were no thanks in the life of a gun for hire. No admiration for the job done. Payment was always paired with a look of contempt in the employer’s eyes. The job should have been done quicker, cheaper, and without so many complications. Innocents shouldn’t have been put through so much danger. The boy should have been able to come home alive.

“Did you catch the news broadcast?” Sin shook his head in response to Tahnel’s question. At the large green being’s control, a video monitor came to life. A female human in professional attire filled the screen, above her shoulder played a video.

The newscaster’s voice blurred out as Sin lost himself in the images which played out above shoulder. Imperial Colonel Voshage had Consul Master Solda Kumil and Zachariah Beltran imprisoned on an Imperial shuttle. Just on the outside of the planet’s atmosphere the shuttle was intercepted by Hener’s ship. After a brief shootout, the Imperial ship was blown out of the sky. In retaliation, ground based weapons opened fire on the ship, destroying it. All remains of both ships were completely burned up on reentry. Naurchand soldiers in full dress uniforms carried a small coffin.

“Our improvised footage was put to good use.” Sin sighed as he flipped off the newscast. “It is amazing how simple footage and creative editing can pull the wool over Empire and Consul eyes.”

“Zachariah Beltran is now presumed dead. There is nothing left for the Empire and Consul to fight over. Naurchand should be left alone from now on.” A look of longing and regret was deep in Tahnel’s eyes. “It is a shame that Zachariah must be separated from his family but boarding school far away from here is the only solution. It would only be a matter of time before they would figure out he was still alive if he stuck around here. This was the only way to keep Naurchand safe and out of the war.”

“To hell with this world,” Sin cursed. “They don’t know how good they have it. Living off the beaten path keeps them away from prying eyes. These people live their lives with no fear of persecution or war or death. On this world sweat, blood, and tears do not need to be paid for a meager existence like the rest of the galaxy must.”

“We all pay those tolls, my friend. Naurchand may not have to deal with the Empire or the Consul breathing down their neck, but they have their own worries. No one has a free ride on this spinning blob of rocks and stars. These people are just fortunate that Governor Beltran is a good man. He shoulders most of the galactic burdens.”

“Beltran may be good for his people, but he is no friend of ours. That man just about refused to open the coffers for our payday. Just because he can’t see his son again we shouldn’t get paid.” Sin flipped some switches on the dashboard, bringing the ship to life. The control panel lit with activity and gauges spun. A faint hum emanated from the rear of the ship as motors started turning. “Let’s get off this planet before I change my mind and sellout the boy to the highest bidder.”

Tahnel waved his fingers and spoke in soothing tones. “Zachariah Beltran is a good kid. We wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize his safety, no matter what his father or this planet does.”

“You are right,” Sin nodded, “he is a good kid. Now let’s see if the spirit of the Phoenix has taken hold.” The Bolide shook as the main engines lit, glowing white hot at maximum output. Quickly gaining altitude, the freighter escaped from the grasps of Naurchand’s gravity.

Tahnel spoke through clenched teeth. “First you name her after an exploding meteor and now you liken her to a bird that is on fire. Why do I agree to fly in this old crate?”

“She is a bold ship that rises from the ashes, a mother hen to protect us on our grand adventures.” Sin laughed, good spirits were once again with him.

“Speaking of adventure, where are we off to now?”

“Bolide could use some professional repairs. Calenist seven is as good a destination as any. I know of a good mechanic that will take care of us. Maybe this time he’ll deal you in on the card games.”

Tahnel glared at his friend. “While we’re there, we’ll pay off Mr. Thent. Is that correct, or do you have an urge to dodge more bounty hunters?”

“It depends on what Bolide’s repairs cost. We can’t make money and stay in business if we don’t have a fully functional ship. Don’t worry though. We’ll pay Mr. Thent a little something to keep him off our back for a while.” Sin winked.

Tim and Jim's Awesome Blog

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