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misadventures-phan-can · 7 years

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Chasing Phantoms ~ Prologue

It was not meant to be.

A Mother clutched her month-old daughter close. The ship shook, fire danced in the corner of her eye. Outside, a dark figure loomed. Another ship, the attacker, raining bolts down on its prey.

Oh the life they had planned. The love, happiness… The hard times and anger, sadness. All of it they were prepared to face together, forever. But not this. Never this.

The child she held in her arms cried, either from the jostling of her mother’s running, or the loud, terrifying sounds of battle that engulfed the ship whole. Soon, soon they could escape.

The woman felt terrible. Torn between the men and women of the crew that had helped her so much, the urge to stay and fight for them like they were for her… or her daughter, her Star, and the life she would surely have if she took an escape pod and ran.

The Captain knew what choice she would make, the crew knew. No one held it against her, even as she rushed away, no time spared for goodbyes. He only looked at her, stoic as always, nodding once. She smiled grimly, the first hit rocking their ship on its axis. She ran. The Captain turned and started barking battle orders. That was the last she ever saw of them, the valiant crew and their leader.

It was not meant to be.

It was hot as hell on this planet, the humidity in air stuck to the skin, only adding to the sweat that formed over faces and arms- for the humans anyway. Men and women alike wore sandals as they walked down solar-paneled sidewalks. Bicycles casually rolled past on the sidewalk separate from the pedestrian path. Every few feet the solar-panels displayed the image of a figure walking on the appropriate lane, and little bike signals on the bike path.

Leafy, flowering vines grew up telephone poles and hanging baskets dropped down within reaching distance, most full of small pitcher plants to help control the insect population. Although the wild variety smelled like rotting flesh, these small domestic ones smelled like overly ripe fruit. Edible plants and berry bushes hung down as well, such as ripe red strawberries, plump peaches, juicy oranges and many others, both from different planets and native to Linus.

Natural bridges went over highways for both human and fauna safety alike. Every block had a shaded solar charging port surrounded by benches, walkways that led to the beaches, bicycle racks and parking lots. The skyscrapers in the distance grew with greenery, bearing a strong resemblances to the massive forests surrounding most of the coastal capital.

The community, whether native or not, enjoyed this planet’s climate immensely… however the foreign General felt his sweat squelch in his thick military boots and under his formal uniform. The locals merely wore bikinis and shorts, with only the rare few daring to cover up with sundresses and tank tops. He had only been here for barely half a Standard Galactic Day, and already he hated it with determined vehemence.

The man stopped under some shade, both to catch his breath and check in with Head Quarters. Taking his communicator off the clip on his coat, he clicked it to the correct signal.

“General reporting, Sir come in, Sir.” The man states, pressing the receiver of the little device, all the while shaking sand out of the speakers despite it not having been exposed to the beaches at all.

“Oh hun, always so uptight and formal… you couldn’t just lay your head back and relax for the day could you…” An effeminate voice chimed through static from the other end. One could just imagine him in his Cat’s eye sunglasses, filing his nails. The General fought back a cringe of disgust.

“They didn’t know about the mineral… they don’t apparently use much mining resources… pride themselves on being green, having low impacts on the environment and all that… A biologist I found along the shore did not suitably help… he was more concerned with some species of cat beasts and a slug…”

“Ah yes….” The man on the other end of the line hummed. “I heard about those cuties. I think I may have seen one earlier today… maybe two if wolves in sheep’s clothing count. Very adorable little things, really. It makes me want one…” he hummed in a slight airy manner, with noticeable emphasis on the want.

“Sir, I do not think it a wise course of action…”

However within moments he was walking down the sidewalk to visit the flea markets, casting cold, grey eyes along colourful stalls that seemed to sell everything on this planet. From exotic fruit and meat, to equipment for ships, Earth antiques, and every species imaginable living on Linus, which seemed as good a candidate for ‘pet’ you could get, in as loose a sense of the word as possible.

He decided upon a particularly dedicated looking vendor, which was really just a collection of small play gates and cages full of animals. The first creature to greet him was a many-eyed reptilian-looking cat with 6 arms. It started growling- the man assumed- for it made a repeating, aggressive ticking sound combined with a series of rattling snarls. Eventually it turned to lay contentedly under a heat lamp. Then, he saw an odd looking snake whose eyes seemed to jut out like a chameleon’s and whose tail wrapped around a branch like it had a mind of its own. A certain scaly thing even vaguely resembled a dragon. But one species in particular caught his eye. If one had lived on Earth, in its golden age, one would compare it to a cute, chubby baby otter. To the people of Linus, they were Mimics. And, to the people who knew what they were capable of, limitless sources of potential.

The stern General was, however, hoping he wouldn’t have to go through with this tomfoolery.

Approaching the manager, or owner of sorts, he cleared his throat and presented his dilemma.

“I need a pet for someone… a Service Dog like animal. Something smart. Something vicious.” He said, with a glint in his eye.

“Ah, is it perhaps for that special lady in your life? I mean, it all depends on what you want smart for exactly…” The manager replied, the local Linus lilt colouring his speech as he scrutinized his latest client.

The man grimaced, disgusted by the latest developments. He supposed one could call his Commander a ‘special lady’ alright… special with a helmet maybe.

“You pry too much…” He retorted, in a very smooth, very dangerous tone despite his apparent anger. “I came to ask questions, not to answer them…. I am here for a Mimic.”

The vendor- thought he seemed slightly dumbfounded- laughed heartily. “Pardon my manners, us mainlanders don’t mean to pry as much as we do. Should have just been straight forward- we got a whole litter. I hear even the SDF are starting to use these guys. I do warn ya, they aren’t pets. With ‘em little guys it’s like adopting a kid of your own��”

He motioned to a small group of Mimics, round chubby faces with antenna like whiskers. One seeming to be a small white female, another a large dapple grey, the third a grey with a black back and light underbelly. The fourth, and final one was a small black, and white male, standing just slightly taller than the female.

“That one right there, he’s a smart one I’ll tell ya.” He says pouring some milk into a saucer with a small amount of cat food. By the time the dishes were placed in their pen, the “alpha” Mimics were chittering and hollering loudly. Already they had started to mimic the noises of the animals surrounding them. The small black and white male remained silent as the two others pushed and shoved, snapping at one another for the food.

“Chester, come over here boy.” The puppy, though young, seemed to have a natural aptitude towards this sort of thing. He stood up his hind legs, prancing up and down as if he were a kangaroo jumping in delight before the dish was placed down in front him. Followed by another one for the other two Mimics.

While the two grey males fought over who would drink first, the black puppy stared at them. When the moment was right, he snuck his snout under their chests to stealthily pick dish up carefully in his mouth, all the while pushing the other with his flippers. Once his thievery accomplished, the small male sat by the passive white female, with whom he shared his prize. She pressed up against him, affectionate, but most certainly shy.

Then, suddenly, the black male looked up at the scowling General, their gaze locking. A galaxy of blue ocean waves and worlds of the multi-hued coral beneath seemed to scrutinize the man’s very person- for he had no more soul. They glowed with multitudes of deeper secrets, hidden thoughts he would never see. Perhaps it was intelligence. Or maybe not. Was it, perhaps, something more?

It didn’t take long before the Grey’s realized what had happened and approached. They bristled and snarled, copying all sorts of offended animal calls. The black male, Chester, simply looked at them before growling and making a noise that the man had heard before, upon approaching the stall. The Mimic pup got up on his hind legs and made a noise resembling the roar of one of Linus’ big cats, albeit softer and smaller, babyfied, almost. Now, before the Grey’s, stood an almost perfect replica of the reptilian, six armed cat who slept a few cages over. The male’s siblings retreated in a frenzy, fearfully whining high pitched screeches that made the General want to shoot them. But nevertheless. If his Commander had stated he wanted a pet, he would have his damn pet. And if it was to be, the General would make sure its usefulness would be maximized. He would make damn well sure. And if he was to be stuck with an overgrown, doggish copy-parrot, he would make sure it wasn’t a dumb overgrown, doggish copy-parrot. This would be it.

The man spent the rest of the day carrying an unstable cardboard box, with holes punched in the top, under his arm. Heavily annoyed, very unamused. Little did he know, this was the beginning of 15 years of annoyance and un-amusement.

Next: Chapter 1 - The Cloak

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