On the Surface of Yuktovy Planet

  Keltikin Jinn, Jemblevre, Nyraxi, and three other members of the shuttle crew are once again scouting the planet's surface. Fenfeld, a transplant from the simian moon of Apsuzette, observes the team's surroundings with slitted eyes. He flexes his sextuplet of index fingers on the triggers of his likewise numbered plasmashot weapons. Nyraxi pouts as she follows closely at Fenfeld's side. If she has no choice but to be out in the open, it's better to be with Fenfeld than with anyone else. With six guns, the guy can't possibly miss.

  "So what's the real plan, here?!?" Fenfeld calls cringingly loud to Keltikin Jinn. "I mean...Really? We just walk around here forever? Hoping the Captain just drops out of the sky or is catapulted back to the planet's surface by some wonderful miracle? We've been scouting for almost thirty minutes. Xol isn't gonna last much longer. He's hurt bad. He needs medical attention. And Koda's going out of her damn mind! What is the plan?"

  "The first part? You should shut the hell up!" Jemblevre growls over one muscular shoulder.

  "Make me, tough guy!" Fenfeld retorts, waving a hand in Jemblevre's direction. "Your brother...I respect. He's kinda earned his spot. You...Are nothing more than a bag of hot wind, Jemblevre. I've had farts more scary than you. You know what? My mother's farts are scarier than you. By the way....I wasn't talking to you. I was talking to our great Security Chief. Hey, Jinn Man. What's the plan?"

  Nyraxi tries not to laugh and fails. She covers her mouth with one hand, making sure to keep her weapon at the ready with the other hand. Fenfeld briefly sneaks his eyes in the female centaur's direction, a sly grin turning up the right corner of his mouth. He revs up his antics, dropping his voice an octave or two.

  "Didn't you hear me, Mr. Jinn? What are we doing out here? We don't know this planet. We could end up wandering for days. I don't know about you...But the idea of being stuck on this planet scares the willies out of me. Giant spiders? No, Sir. Count me out. I've got three wives waiting for me back on Apsuzette. I want to get the hell off of this planet and never look back. When we get off this rock...I'm taking some serious shore leave. I've got much better things to be doing with my time."

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  "In case you haven't noticed, Fenfeld," Keltikin finally says with a sigh. "No one else in this team is yapping their head off. Know why? Because we are on a hostile world. Believe me, I heard you the first time. And the time after that. However, I would advise you, Fenfeld. If you wish to get back to your numerous wives in one piece...You should practice keeping your simian mouth shut. That is the plan. Got it?!?"

  "Sure, Jinn Man," Fenfeld replies, offering Nyraxi a sidelong glance and a wink. "Whatever you say. You're the boss."

  Keltikin rolls his eyes but does not respond. The team has barely gone ten more yards before the ground begins to quake. Jemblevre and Keltikin Jinn raise their plasmashot weapons and point them in a westerly direction. The other team members turn to see what is coming. As expected, a giant horde of girgoghs are storming over a nearby hill--headed straight for the team.

  "Fenfeld, you stupid ape!" Jemblevre yells. "What do we do, Keltikin? Do we go back?"

  "Hell no!" Fenfeld boldly interjects. "I'm tired of running. I ain't chicken. I say we fight. Come on, Jinn Man. Let's not run with our tails between our legs. I mean...We're already out here. And we've got plenty of open space. We follow Jemblevre's lead from before. We blow the oil out of them spider monsters. Come on, Jinn Man. Otherwise, it's all been for nothing."

  Keltikin takes only a brief moment to consider Fenfeld's suggestion. A wide grin alters the djinn's previously introspective features and he draws his secondary weapon--an extendable energy staff. Sparks and floating orbs of energy dance around the staff's tip. Keltikin's smile turns purely evil.

  "Fine. We fight," Keltikin says. "Fire at will. All I ask...Don't hit me!"

  Fenfeld laughs with glee, aiming his multiple plasmashot pistols at multiple moving targets.

  "Yeah-ha! Let's get 'em! Charge!"

  A giant girgogh, easily ten times bigger than any they have seen thus far, crests the far hill at the exact moment Fenfeld finishes expressing his extreme excitement. The ape's smug grin disappears as if it were never there. He swivels his head in Nyraxi's direction, speaking in a low whisper.

  "Maybe not the charging part. Oh damn, that thing's huge!"

  "Uh-huh!" Nyraxi sighs. "Why couldn't we have just gone back to the Nebulus?"

  are not mercenaries. They work in concert with the Terran Space Forces, but are not beholden to the same regulations. There is no official uniform. It's more an aesthetic for each crew member. Whatever makes them feel comfortable and like they are at home away from home. Captain Aurelia Hilyard's favorite aesthetic is from the pirate era on Earth.