Stranded on a Tiny Planet
Chapter 33: Emissary

On the edge of the forest at the Wasteland three days prior...

Boroxle and his sand dragon Ru’tra had made it back to the Rogashay encampment two sun cycles after their encounter with the giant alien. Needless to say, it had been a humiliating defeat, one Boroxle found hard to swallow. Even his sand dragon Ru’tra, one of the strongest bulls in their encampment, was powerless against the huge creature who handled him like a mere toy. Boroxle had thought the Ansheetan negligence in their guarding of the forest had meant an opportunity for he and the Rogashay to try and seize territory. He never could’ve predicted the enemy would be in command of such a titanic monster. Even without it, the Ansheetans were a powerful people, but now...his tribe was seriously outclassed.

Returning to his mate Kriees a failure in his quest was a difficult thing to endure. Though her eyes bore relief at his return they also held disappointment; something he never wanted to see in her green eyes.

“You were not victorious.” She stated in a way that sounded like a question but was not.

Boroxle growled, dismounting Ru’tra and removing his harness to give him reprieve of it. The lizard stretched its toothy mouth and hissed. A member of the tribe came and brought a chunk of meat for him whilst Boroxle headed for his dwelling. Kriees followed, not saying anything. She could read her mate well enough to know he would speak when he was ready.

When they entered their tent-like dwelling, Kriees brought her mate some meat to eat and sat down next to him. He ate in silence for a bit until at last he spoke.

“We...ran into something unexpected.” He stated. “I need to gather the tribal sub-leaders for a meeting.”

“Tell me first.” She insisted.

Boroxle lowered his hard, crested head and hissed slightly, “The Ansheeta have a weapon...”

“A weapon?” Kriees leaned in.

“A giant creature...bigger than anything I’ve ever seen.”

“What do you mean a ‘giant creature’?”

Boroxle’s fierce eyes widened, “I mean just that! I don’t know what it was or where it came from. It walks on two legs like we do but it...it’s taller than most of the forest trees!” He gestured to his face, “Fur on its head and face...light brown skin...strength like you wouldn’t believe.”

He stared at his mate, “And the Ansheeta command it! My party and I found two Ansheeta alone in the forest and we captured them easily. I intended to use them as hostages to get into Anashee. But one of them, a female, called this thing to her aid. The sand dragons and their riders all fled in fear. Ru’tra ran off too and this thing captured me effortlessly.” He held up his fingers in a pinching motion to illustrate, “I...stood no chance. ” He picked up a sheathed dagger and held it with both hands in front of him, “It could hold Ru’tra just like this! That’s how big it is.”

Kriees seemed notably shocked by his description.

“It kept me captive for a while but then let me go.” Boroxle threw down the dagger with frustration, “We can’t defeat this thing...whatever it is. It could wipe us out completely if it is commanded to do so.”

“You think the leaders of Anashee would do that?” she asked with doubt.

Boroxle thought but flipped his hands, “I don’t know. Now that they have the means to destroy us they might.”

Kriees sat beside her mate in silence, “Then perhaps it’s time we bartered a peace with them.”

Boroxle snarled at the idea, “That will never happen. The Ansheeta will keep their land and push us further into the wasteland.”

Kriees looked behind her at the large black pod of their first young, nestled comfortably in its stand, “Our first will be Breaking soon. His movements are getting stronger.”

The Rogashay leader leaned past her and touched the large black pod. Beneath the textured, volcanic rock-looking surface he could indeed feel several surges of the life moving within.

“How soon?”

Kriees laid her hardened crest against his scaled shoulder, “Very soon. Perhaps as soon as eight sun cycles...it’s hard to say.”

Much like the Ansheetans, Rogashay females expelled a single egg or pod from a hidden opening in their chest. And like the Ansheetans the pod would grow over time to create the new Rogashay life inside. Unlike the Ansheetans, however, the Rogashay did not have brooding chambers to house their young ones. Instead they were buried in the sand or dirt for five to seven rotations to keep them cool and protected. Then when they were of the proper size in their development, the sand dragons would be tasked to dig them up and bring the large pods out in the suns to harden. After that they were housed for two more rotations in the dwelling of the parent Rogashay.

They had education probes as well, while not as developed as the ones of the Ansheetans, still served the same purpose. The probes were inserted after the pods were dug up and before they hardened in the sun. Then, when the time of Breaking arrived (the Rogashay term for Emerging) the new Rogashay would fight their way out of their pod using their hardened head crests. Those that didn’t fight their way out were seen as weak and unworthy and would not be aided, subsequently perishing within their own pod. Though, this instance was uncommon, it was a harsh reality for all Rogashay. Only the strong were allowed a place in the tribe.

Kriees looked at her mate, “We cannot afford a battle now, not with our first about to Break. There are many others in the tribe about to Break as well. If this giant creature could mean our destruction we must at least consider a meeting with the Ansheeta. If only for his sake.” She gestured to the pod.

Proud Boroxle didn’t want to do that. But he also didn’t want to jeopardize his new family before it was even so. In his gut he very much doubted the Ansheeta would even speak with them much less barter any kind of peace that would lean in their favor. Most likely they’d threaten them to leave into the Wasteland as far as they could and never return or they’d sic their giant monster upon them.

“And if we can’t reach a peace?” he asked.

She touched his face with a fierceness in her own eyes, “Then I will fight our last battle by your side. I will replace a way to kill this giant monster by myself if I have to.”

He returned the touch with pride, “That is why you are mine and no other.”

She stood with purpose, “I will travel to Anashee and broker a meeting with their Elder.”

“I will go with you.”

Kriees halted him with a firm hand, “I will go alone. If you go or a party of warriors attends me, the Ansheeta could construe it as a raid. Our tribe cannot afford to have you captured.”

"I can’t afford to have you captured.” He growled with insistence.

A confident look raised her chin, “You know I can fend for myself.”

Though the Rogashay leader nodded to her, he still didn’t like it.

...

A couple days after the ‘swimming lessons’...

Anu had news for Merco and she wanted to tell him personally. She flew out to his shelter outside of Anashee where he was sitting in the shade with Seraysa and a small group of Ansheetans, talking. Seraysa was at her favorite spot on Merco’s shoulder.

Anu had to smile. Though she and Seraysa were both ambassadors for Merco it was evident that their bond was indeed strong. She and Merco were close friends of course but there was something a bit more with those two. Seraysa rarely left Merco’s side. Of course, she would make time with her own family but with Ansheetans, the moment an Emerged found their place in life they flew with it. Seraysa’s place seemed to be at Merco’s side.

“Merco!” she called out flying down.

He looked up from his conversation, “Hello, Anu.”

“I have news for you!” she announced, landing on his bent knee.

“Really? Somebody needs some help?” he guessed.

“No. I just received word from the Pela Ansheetans that they’ve finished your new shirt. They have it for you at the settlement.”

He turned his head with remembrance, “Oh yeah! I almost forgot about that.” He pulled his holey shirt away from his body and gave it an embarrassed look, “Looks like I could use one.” He nodded to the small group he was talking to, “Well, guess I’ve got to be going. I’ll tell you more about ‘snow’ and ‘winter’ when I come back.”

The little group seemed disappointed but stayed to watch him stand up. No matter how many times the Ansheetans watched him do the casual action it was always a show for them. Seeing a living being of Merco’s size rising up taller than the wall of Anashee was a sight. They made little noises of awe when he stood all the way up, blotting out the suns. Even Seraysa, who got to see it every day and ride on his shoulder when he stood, was still thrilled by it.

Merco bid them goodbye and followed after Anu. He had actually forgotten how the Ansheetans of Pela Canyon had been measuring his shirt the day he was attacked and they tended his injuries. That seemed like such a long time ago even though it had been roughly two weeks ago. He was keeping track of the suns and how many times they went dark. Though not the same as Earth days they were his only sure way of judging how long he’d been marooned. Getting close to three weeks on Anshai-tee.

As Merco walked down the road toward the border of Anashee he wondered if his sons or his job had filed a “missing person” report or not. Granted, he was a space ‘trucker’ with many weeks and even months between some destinations. He tried to even remember what his last job was before he was hijacked by those mercenaries.

Ship parts...that was the cargo.

He dropped off the parts at that last space port and was heading to pick up the next shipment at a nearby planet.

Surely the company for his pickup had filed a complaint about his failure to arrive?

But he was knocked out for an untold amount of time when his ship was rammed and he hit his head. And then he was knocked out again when that lizard-like Gret’nal punched him. He had no idea how far off course they had taken him. His ship wasn’t top notch but it was as fast as any smaller transport ship. He wondered if those mercenaries still had his ship or if they sold it for parts. A stolen transport ship would be easy to track. If they were stupid, they’d still have his ship and they’d be tracked down, which could expedite his rescue.

Unless...unless the bastards knew how to disable the tracking signal.

That wasn’t easy to do...but not impossible given the right skill set. Mercenaries tended to know all the illegal tricks. Somehow, in his gut, Merco thought that was more likely.

“What are you thinking about?” Pixie’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Huh? Oh... just wondering if anyone is out there looking for me.” He indicated the sky above.

He knew she didn’t like the idea of him leaving but it was a constant weight on his thoughts.

Anu turned, entering the conversation, “I’m sure your family is trying to replace you.”

Merco frowned, “I don’t know where Anshai-tee is in relation to other planets so even if they are searching...I don’t know if they will replace it.”

He’d shown Anu the pictures of his family before and had a similar conversation that he had with Pixie. She too had been amazed and baffled by the human concept of “growing up”. But Ansheetans did understand family and the importance of it; one commonality they shared.

“Well, I have heard there has been a group put together to develop a communication transmitter that can broadcast beyond our planet.” Anu offered, “So, that’s a start.”

Merco gave a hopeful shrug, “I hope it works.”

The three traveled together until they arrived at Pela Canyon. Merco entered through his usual slope and traversed the rocky corridor. He hadn’t visited the Pela Ansheetans since he shared a fish with them, so he was anxious to see them again now that he had learned their language. At last he rounded the corner of the canyon wall and saw the settlement. Draped over the side of the canyon wall like a banner was a bluish-purple T-shirt.

Merco grinned thinking, “Now that’s a color I’ve never worn before...”

There were a few Pela Ansheetans going about their daily routine.

Quite abruptly someone shouted, “He’s here! It’s Merco!”

Like before the settlement came alive with activity like ants pouring out of a hill to greet him. He approached carefully and knelt down before them.

“Hello again. I see you finished the shirt. I’m definitely needing a new one.” He stated in his odd Ansheetan accent.

Hearing him speak the Ansheetan tongue set the settlement abuzz with chatter. Last they knew he only knew how to say the greeting.

Yelon the settlement leader came forward, “It is good to see you again Merco.”

“And you as well.” He nodded and glanced at the old remains of the landslide. The entrances had been sealed off but more were dug in other parts of the canyon, “I see that you have expanded.”

Yelon nodded, “Please, try your new shirt. We hope it is to your liking.”

Merco smiled, took Pixie from his shoulder and set her down. Then he rose up, peeling his old gray T-shirt from his torso. The shirt he had was in a pretty sorry state; full of holes and stained with old brown blood spots.

“Your wounds seem to have healed well.” Yelon mentioned, flicking his yellow tipped crest.

“Thanks to your people.” Merco admitted, holding his shirt in a wad, “I hoped to thank you properly for such a kind act on my behalf.”

“You saved my people from death when it was impossible. It was the least we could do for you.” Yelon assured him.

“Still, I thank you, all of you, for everything you’ve done for me. You were the first Ansheetan settlement to see me and you have been welcoming and kind to me ever since.”

Yelon nodded and then gestured to the shirt above. Merco picked up the shirt that was draped over the canyon wall. It felt like cotton but a bit softer like a synthetic fiber. It had stretch to it as well. He sincerely hoped it fit because he’d feel awful if they’d spent so much time and effort on such a huge shirt only to have it not fit. He slipped it on and the material stretched nicely. The texture was soft like cotton but it almost had a foamy feel to it. His head popped through the neck opening and he stretched the material down over his torso. The Pela Ansheetans made noises of approval and relief, seeing that it fit him. Merco rolled his arms a bit, stretching them out to test the fit.

“Fits great.” He announced, “What is this material?”

“It’s made from the fibers of a fungus that grows in our mines. There’s a lot of it and we use it for our own clothes. And...when it gets dark it glows.”

Merco ran his hands across his chest, feeling the material, “It’s soft. I-I’m humbled you took this much effort to make me this...surely it was a burden to make?”

There were murmurs of laughter in the crowd.

“It was far and away the biggest shirt we’ve ever made.” Yelon agreed.

He bowed his head with gratitude, “Thank you.

He noticed there was a pocket just like the one he had on his old shirt and he touched it, “Try this out Pixie.”

She floated up and slid into the shirt pocket for a test. As she wiggled around and leaned against him she gave a nod of approval, “It’s nice...very comfy.”

He patted the pocket fondly and then asked the Pela citizens, “Is there anything I can do for you while I’m here?”

Yelon glanced around but said, “Not today I’m afraid. But in a fifteen sun cycles we might need you to come bring a large mineral shipment to Anashee.”

Merco nodded with a smile, “Just send word and I’ll come.”

They talked for a time, the Pela citizens seeming excited to be able to speak to the giant alien being. Some thanked him for his heroism in saving them, others asked if he was going to bring them another fish, and of course the obligatory conversation of what he was and where he was from.

“Merco!” Traynar’s voice suddenly echoed across the canyon wall as he flew in fast.

“Traynar? Is something wrong?” Merco asked noticing the speed at which Traynar traveled. Anashee was relatively close to Pela Canyon but it still took Merco close to an hour to walk there.

“Commander Madala needs you back at Anashee.” He stated.

Merco grimaced, knowing the head of the Ansheetan military didn’t particularly like him, “Have I...done something wrong?”

Traynar shook his head, “I will explain on the way. Come on.”

Merco stood quickly and said to the Pela citizens, “Thanks again for the shirt. You did a marvelous job on it. Take care.”

The Pela citizens waved their plumes to him and bid him farewell as he, Anu, Traynar and Pixie all headed back for Anashee.

When they were out of the canyon Anu couldn’t hold back her curiosity, “What’s going on Traynar?”

Her mate turned and spoke to both her and Merco, “A Rogashay emissary has arrived at the gates of Anashee.”

“An emissary?” Anu raised her plumage, “What do they want?”

“She has come to make talks of peace with us.” Traynar explained. “She arrived not long after you three left. The Commander told me to bring Merco back to Anashee as fast as I could.”

Merco made a hopeful expression, “Peace talks? That’s a good thing, right?”

“With the Rogashay...I have my doubts. They’ve never talked about wanting peace before.” Traynar stated with evident suspicion in his tone. He flipped his dark plumage at Merco, “But...I have a feeling you might have something to do with it.”

“Me?” At first Merco looked confused but he then realized the implications of his presence, “They think...I’m a danger to them.”

Traynar nodded, “I’ll just bet Boroxle and those others took one look at you and thought we Ansheetans acquired the greatest weapon on Anshai-tee and that we might use it.”

Though Merco was well aware of the power he wielded on a planet inhabited with such small beings, he’d never really considered the idea that he’d be seen as a weapon to the Ansheetan enemies.

“I...sincerely hope Commander Madala doesn’t think I’m going to be Anashee’s weapon to destroy its enemies.” Merco mentioned with a slight dread in his voice.

Anu frowned at that, “I don’t think Elder Felreh would condone something like that. She has always seeks peace first.”

Merco glanced at them and then at Pixie riding on his shoulder, “I mean...I will do what I can to keep Anashee and its citizens from harm but...I don’t want to fight a war. I’ve done enough of that...”