The Chronicles Of Jenson Quest: Chronicles 1-3

By J Bryden Lloyd

Jenson Quest is an ordinary teenager with an extraordinary bloodline.

In the first of his chronicles, Jenson is enlisted into the ranks of a galactic special forces unit, made up of men and women from each of the 'Human Realms'. Jenson crosses the galaxy on a mission to stop the evil Zyll, Va'kaar. A creature bent on destroying anyone and anything in his way to galactic domination.

In the second chronicle, Jenson and the warriors of The Great Drak stand in defence of the Jurriian realms when Va'kaar's stolen fleet threaten to destroy it and take those living there as crew.

In the third chronicle, Jenson and his friends go in search of missing Drak warriors, and come face-to-face with new threats, new dangers, and a new fearsome enemy determined to put an end to them.

Join Jenson and the Great Drak as they battle to save humanity.

3 Full Novels, 280,000 words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J Bryden Lloyd
• Release date: Jul 15, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476006604

J Bryden Lloyd

John Bryden Lloyd was born in the village of Llay near Wrexham in North Wales in 1969. Now in his 40's, and married with 6 children and a couple of dogs, he still works as a contracting CAD designer. In 2011, The Rise Of Va'kaar was the first of the series of Chronicles involving Jenson Quest and the Great Drak. It took 18 months to write and although it was originally planned to be a stand-alone novel, the ideas and directions it inspired have spawned a possible 9-book series, the first trilogy of which is already available. Book 2, The Realms Of Jurrii, was published in November 2011 and book 3, The Cause, in June 2012. Along with the Jenson Quest series, he has also written The Zubot Master; a sci-fi series for younger readers. Part 1, Time Slip, was released in January 2012, and the second instalment, The New Age, is due out soon. For those who prefer shorter works, Meet My Shorts! (a Series of Short Stories) was issued in February 2012, and Meet My Other Shorts! (a Series of Short Stories), in March 2012. You can join the author at his blog http://bryvstheworld.blogspot.com/ or on Twitter : @JQChronicles or on Facebook : J Bryden Lloyd (Author) There are more projects on the horizon, including two further Zubot Master books and two further Jenson Quest trilogies.

Book preview

The Chronicles Of Jenson Quest

Chronicles 1-3

The Rise Of Va’kaar

The Realms Of Jurrii

The Cause

by J Bryden Lloyd

Smashwords Edition

© J Bryden Lloyd 2012

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an addition copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

For all those who have inspired characters in all my books.

So many to name, but you all know who you are.

Forever grateful.

Contents

Chronicle #1 – The Rise Of Va’kaar

Chapter 1 The Zyll Pod

Chapter 2 The Disc Of The Great Drak

Chapter 3 The Keeper And The Choice

Chapter 4 Quarters

Chapter 5 The Warriors Briefing

Chapter 6 Yanna

Chapter 7 Training Partners

Chapter 8 The Meeting Of The Armada

Chapter 9 Into The Simulators

Chapter 10 Va’kaar’s Gamble

Chapter 11 Mussa’s Revelation

Chapter 12 Taking Sides

Chapter 13 The Downside Of Command

Chapter 14 Battle Of The Zyll

Chapter 15 Weapons – Drak Style

Chapter 16 Counting The Cost

Chapter 17 The Last Lesson

Chapter 18 Graduation Plus

Chapter 19 Granddad’s Visit

Chapter 20 The Briefing Room Again

Chapter 21 Changing The Plan

Chapter 22 The Ambush

Chapter 23 An Officers Trial

Chapter 24 Feeding The Grebs

Chapter 25 Shuttle To Greeda

Chapter 26 In Pursuit Of The Fleet

Chapter 27 Friend Or Foe

Chapter 28 The Greeda Facility

Chapter 29 The Enemy Of My Enemy

Chapter 30 The Star At Kohkla

Chapter 31 The Keepers Fleet

Chapter 32 Talk Of Treason

Chapter 33 A Quick History Lesson

Chapter 34 Contact

Chapter 35 Rendezvous

Chapter 36 Heading Twelve-Seven-Seven

Chapter 37 Chase

Chapter 38 Negotiation Zyll-Style

Chapter 39 Traitors

Chapter 40 Enemies Among Us

Chapter 41 First Arrivals

Chapter 42 The Battle For Astaccir

Chapter 43 War And Peace

Chapter 44 Subterfuge

Chapter 45 A Ticking Bomb

Chapter 46 Saving The Day

Chapter 47 Confession

Chapter 48 Rescue At Olnar

Chapter 49 The Golden Room

Chapter 50 Too Many Goodbyes

Chapter 51 Key To The Past

Chronicle #2 – The Realms Of Jurrii

Chapter 52 No Normal Life

Chapter 53 Warriors Bequest

Chapter 54 Something Old, Something New

Chapter 55 Station Three

Chapter 56 Defence Of The Realm

Chapter 57 Forgive Us Our Debtors

Chapter 58 End Of Transmission

Chapter 59 Unwelcome

Chapter 60 Piranzite

Chapter 61 A Friend In Need

Chapter 62 Self-Preservation

Chapter 63 Selection

Chapter 64 Warrior Down

Chapter 65 Hunters

Chapter 66 Splitting Heirs

Chapter 67 Once A Zyll…

Chapter 68 Remembrance Day

Chapter 69 Aftermath

Chapter 70 Shadowed

Chapter 71 A Question Of Trust

Chapter 72 Matters Of Fact

Chapter 73 Patrols

Chapter 74 Into The Darkness

Chapter 75 Progress

Chapter 76 The Advance Party

Chapter 77 Preparations

Chapter 78 Loyalty

Chapter 79 Battle Lines

Chapter 80 Close Combat

Chapter 81 If You Can’t Stand The Heat

Chapter 82 Get Out Clause

Chapter 83 Forced Withdrawal

Chapter 84 Memorial

Chapter 85 Just In Time

Chronicle #3 – The Cause

Prologue

Chapter 86 Wish Upon A Star

Chapter 87 The Watchers

Chapter 88 Seeking Richard

Chapter 89 Forgive Me Father

Chapter 90 Choices

Chapter 91 Starting Point

Chapter 92 Losses

Chapter 93 Ceremony

Chapter 94 Interception

Chapter 95 A Friend In Need

Chapter 96 Inquisition

Chapter 97 Confronting The Enemy

Chapter 98 Blood

Chapter 99 Sweet Dreams

Chapter 100 New Arrival

Chapter 101 Alien Nature

Chapter 102 Meetings

Chapter 103 Hunter’s Moon

Chapter 104 Speed

Chapter 105 A New Front

Chapter 106 The Measure Of Success

Chapter 107 The Calm Before

Chapter 108 The Gauntlet

Chapter 109 A Promise To Keep

Chapter 110 The Cloud

Chapter 111 Prophesised

Chapter 112 Awakening

Chapter 113 The Last Line

Chapter 114 Crossing Over

Chronicle #1 – The Rise Of Va’kaar

1. The Zyll Pod

‘The Grand Ship Zytagg’. Second largest ship in the Zyll fleet – second only to the great Zyll Flagship itself – moved effortlessly towards the smaller moon of the two which orbited the grey-clouded planet. The Zytagg was an utterly massive vessel, over seven duthlok’s in length, carrying a complement of over eight thousand Zyll crew and civilians. The long, wedge-shaped nose jutted out from a strange array of seemingly disjointed structures, attached to the main central structure of the ship via a combination of arms and massive plate-like structures. No two parts of the Zytagg were the same as it had grown over many generations, each addition to the great vessel increasing its military capability.

On the bridge of the Zytagg, Upper Second Va’kaar observed quietly as the junior ranks piloted the vessel ever closer to the small moon.

Like all Zyll, Va’kaar was a warrior. He stood four point four trigs tall and his age was displayed proudly through his greying flecks dashed about the golden skin on his head. The remainder of his white skin was entirely unblemished, save for a single, raised deep white scar that ran almost fully the length of his left arm. A fitting reminder to those around him, that he was a most experienced senior officer. His tiny black eyes protruded slightly from his almost perfectly round face, set below an almost invisible straight ridge of bone and just above his single nasal orifice. His wide, down-turned lipless mouth sat at virtually the lowest point on his face. The permanent frown of the Zyll warrior.

Va’kaar listened intently to the rolling, tutting and shushing sounds of the junior ranks, as they reported speed, position and readiness to him from both sides.

The base will be visible to us in a few moments, Upper Second, a Mid Sixth reported from the flight controls ahead of him.

Excellent, Va’kaar responded quietly, Notify the First. Confirm that they are Keepers.

As you command, my Second, a Lower Sixth responded to his right.

There were a number of manoeuvres of limbs and digits, as the three piloting warriors used hands and feet to simultaneously turn and flip the giant vessel almost about its foremost point. Thrusters and stabilisers fired all along the Zytagg and it came to a gentle halt above a sprawling moon base.

Behind Va’kaar, the archway shimmered and vanished as three larger warriors shuffled into the bridge on their short legs. Va’kaar turned and showed his palm in greeting to the new arrivals.

My First! he addressed the leading warrior, We are above Moon Base Jath-fanna, he reported smoothly.

Scans are confirming the base is occupied by Keepers, Upper Second, the Lower Sixth reported suddenly, They are mobilising defences.

All three of the newly arrived warriors appraised the view screen that showed the silent base beneath them. Then all at once, it began!

From points all across the base, at least a hundred tri-winged spheres blasted silently towards the Zytagg and the base cannons began firing burning balls of agitated vuron gas more than twice the size of the small spherical craft who were now marshalling themselves into squadrons to defend their base.

The initial volley of lightning green agitated vuron impacted against the many armoured hulls of the Zytagg and scorched the vessel with superheated flames that would have disintegrated a lesser ship. On the bridge, the First surveyed the scene as it unfolded and then spoke in a clear and deliberate undulating groan.

Annihilate them! We can scan for their world using the same signature that brought us here.

As you command, My First, Va’kaar acknowledged, Deploy the pod! Three charges! Leave none on the base alive! he said to the bridge crew.

Pod deployed, came a response just moments later.

Beneath the Zytagg, a dark, almost flat oval device released itself from the underside of the central fuselage. Gently, it drifted downwards absorbing the impacts of multiple vuron charges from the tiny fighter-planes and the larger base cannons. It stopped at mid distance between the Zytagg and the moon base, then, just as silently, three massive eruptions of vuron gas hurled themselves down onto the base, consuming everything in a few short moments.

In the sky above, more than eighty of the tiny fighters were obliterated by a hail of cannon fire from the underbelly of the Zytagg. The battle – for what it was worth - was over.

In a single, fluid motion, the massive vessel turned about and drifted forwards. The smouldering remains of the base left to burn out behind it. The remaining fighters rallied and turned away from the moon towards the dark, gaseous planet below, hoping to shelter in the atmosphere until the Zyll were gone.

Va’kaar watched them on the tactical display with almost curious interest as he carefully plotted the volley of cannon-fire to intercept them before they reached the haven of the dense atmosphere beneath them. He made a few final adjustments and then activated the cannons himself. A thousand rounds of solid explosive projectiles tore through the group of fighters, splitting their hulls and igniting their fuel cells. Va’kaar allowed himself a guttural growl of content.

2. The Disc Of The Great Drak

Summer jobs were crap! That was official. The only problem being, that in this case, the term only really meant that he did more a lot more hours for just a little more pay than he got during school-term time.

It was easily thirty degrees outside, but here he was, stuck in his aunt’s nursing home serving tea, coffee and biscuits to the twenty five elderly ‘inmates’, as he called them. On the bright side – if you could call it a bright side! – good old Mr Quest, or granddad as he knew him, was definitely on form.

Granddad Quest had been a test pilot for the RAF, flying experimental stuff. A career his son had followed him into, and which his grandson could now only dream about. Although his aunt encouraged him to follow his dreams, Jenson Quest was the third generation who carried the name his grandfather had made famous in test-pilot circles almost fifty years before. Now seeming far older than his seventy years, he was unable to walk more than a few metres without feeling ill. Many doctors had seen him over the last few years and all had said the same thing. ‘Having spent so long testing planes at high altitudes and ultra-fast speeds, the toll on his body must have been far greater than anticipated’. In effect, granddad was gradually fading away.

The next Jenson Quest, Jenson’s father, had disappeared on a top secret test flight for a private firm in the Far East, and although neither the plane nor his body had ever been recovered, it was widely accepted that he could not have survived. But when granddad got going, it seemed that he had good reasons to believe he was still somewhere out there… The problem being that granddad had a strange fixation which involved UFO’s. A fixation in which, even Jenson had to admit, from time to time he was very convincing. Either way, Jenson Quest senior had flatly refused to believe his son was dead.

Jenson, like all his predecessors in the male Quest line, was strong, tall, and strikingly handsome. At seventeen, he had a crop of dark wavy hair that made the majority of the girls in his year weak at the knees. His square jaw line and deep blue eyes made him just that bit more exceptional than the other boys in his high school, and he had a female following on his social networking site, that would have made even his father’s head spin.

He went to his locker and opened the door to stuff his white jacket inside. He stopped for a moment to look at the old photograph of his parents on their wedding day. He could barely remember his mother now. She had died of a rare illness about eleven years ago, and although Jenson still retained a lot of memories of her, they were often vague and incomplete. She looked proud and happy standing next to his tall, handsome, uniformed father.

Time to get Granddad out for some fresh air, he said to no-one.

Jenson stopped outside the plain door and sighed. Aunt Maggie had refused to let Granddad out in the grounds today, after he had started one of his rants during breakfast. She said that she didn’t want him causing a scene and upsetting the other ‘guests’. She always called them guests. However, on a day like this which threatened to be far too hot for anyone to go outside later in the afternoon, Jenson had decided that was a little unfair.

He reversed into the room quietly, pulling the wheelchair carefully through the doorway. There was Granddad, in his chair, facing the window as he always was.

Would Mister Quest like to partake of the Summer weather outside? Jenson asked in a sarcastic haughty voice.

My boy! Granddad beamed over his shoulder, You genius! Hurry, there isn’t much time!

Huh? Jenson stared at him absently, Time for what?

"Get me outside, lad! I’ll tell you all you need to know! Too many ears in this place!"

He rolled his eyes and positioned the wheelchair alongside the armchair where the old man sat. Carefully, he held his arms while he wobbled into a standing position and for a moment, while the old man shifted himself to the side to position himself in front of the wheelchair, their eyes locked.

His grandfather had typical Quest characteristics, the wavy hair, which still showed traces of brown, despite his age, the deep blue eyes and the long, perfect nose and square jaw. As they stood for that moment, Jenson saw a mischievous glint in the old man’s eyes.

Ready? he asked.

Lower away! replied the old man.

Jenson wheeled the chair over to the old summer house and put it facing the steps, then sat in the warm shade in front of the old man. He looked at the serious face that was staring down at him and wondered whether this was going to be one of those conversations. Within a few seconds, he knew it was!

"Jenson. Listen to me carefully. They are on their way, maybe to bring your dad home, but if not, if he’s not with them, well there’s no-one else who can help them this time. I’m too old It will have to be you! I know you think I’m a mad old git, but please, believe me, you need to be ready!"

Granddad. I don’t understand! You know I don’t. It’s like when you were going on about them taking you and Dad to fight! Jenson had not realised there were tears in his eyes. Dad crashed into the sea, or burned up in the atmosphere, or smashed into a remote mountain somewhere. He’s gone!

No boy, Granddad said, smiling gently, Look, he rolled his sleeve back and pointed exaggeratingly at his wrist. Jenson followed his finger and unblinking gaze. It’s starting to turn red. When it’s red, they will be here.

Jenson looked at the disc in quiet surprise. It was as though Granddad had stuck a piece of round plastic onto the back of his wrist where a watch face would normally be. It was about two centimetres in diameter, had no strap, or visible means of fixing to his grandfather’s wrist. It just sat, as if glued to his skin. Granddad gave the slightest of pulls on the sides of the disc and the top of it came away. Immediately the second disc left his wrist, it ceased to have the pale orange colour, instead reverting to a dark grey.

What happened? Is it broken? asked Jenson.

No boy. Put it on your wrist, Granddad whispered.

Jenson took the disc and ran his fingers over it. It was perfectly smooth, cool to touch and although his grandfather’s disc seemed to hug the contours of his wrist, the disc Jenson held was remarkably rigid and yet seemed to have no thickness.

What does it do? he asked, turning the disc over in his palm.

Many things, Granddad replied, But for now, it will tell you when they arrive, and it will tell them where to find you.

"Where to find me? What, you mean like a tracking system?" Jenson stared at the old man, who just smiled.

"It is your time. You will be part of the new ‘Great Drak’," Granddad said quietly.

"What the hell’s a ‘Great Drak’ meant to be? Jenson sighed and put the disc back into his grandfather’s hand. Granddad. I’m sorry. I really don’t understand why you keep doing this."

"Like me… Like your father before you… It’s your time! the old man took Jenson’s wrists in his hands and smiled again. I’m not a fruitcake Jenson. All my silly stories. The Keepers, the fighting in space to save humanity. It’s real. It happened to me, and to your father."

"Okay then, tell me what you think happened to Dad?" Jenson asked, sighing sadly in resignation at the prospect of hearing once again the tale he had heard spun a hundred times.

He went away to fight again, to protect one of the other realms. Maybe this was one battle too many. But he never returned to say his goodbyes, or to pass on a disc to you. That is the way things usually happen, what I always dreaded, but it never happened. Nothing happened to say that he had died. So maybe, just maybe, he’s alive somewhere out there.

You think that because he died and didn’t come and say goodbye, or some imaginary alien people didn’t send you a text, dad’s still alive? Jenson snapped. If you want to make me believe you, that really isn’t the way!

My disc created your father’s disc, just as it has created yours. They are linked inexorably to this world and to each other for the lifetime of the wearer. It is very complicated, and I never truly understood, but when we die, it somehow returns us home to see the next in the bloodline and to pass on the disc, to pass on the responsibility.

You’re telling me that you have been wearing that thing for years!? That it sends your ghost home when some alien war goes wrong? Why have I never noticed it? Why hasn’t Aunt Maggs ever noticed it?

For the same reason you haven’t yet noticed your own disc. he looked down at Jenson’s wrist and Jenson, again, followed his eyes to show an orange disc on his wrist. Because I did not want you to see it.

What the… instinctively, Jenson brushed at the disc, but it did not move. Then (as he had seen his Granddad do minutes before) he tried to gently lift the disc by the edges, but felt no substance there and his fingers passed over the disc as if it was not there. He picked momentarily with his nail at the edge of the disc, but stopped when the skin began to redden with the scratching.

Jenson stared up at the old man.

How did you…? Get it off me! he said, frantically. I don’t want to be part of a war.

So you believe me? the old man smiled a little.

Yes! No!... I don’t know! Jenson shook his head, But I’m not so sure I want to risk my life on it. How do I get it off? he shook his hand until his fingers were numb, but the disc remained in place.

The old man sighed and put his hand on his grandson’s shoulder.

"It is dangerous, boy. That much is certain. But I agreed to go and defend our right to exist, so did your father. The human race as a whole, depends on each planet having a warrior to send."

"Each planet!?" Jenson looked into the old, blue eyes.

Of course. You don’t think you’re fighting alone do you? the old man smiled again and looked to the sky, "There were almost thirty members of the Great Drak when I first fought. Your father told me there were almost seventy when he first answered their call, and every time, there were one or two more, he gazed into Jenson’s eyes, Who knows how many there are now."

You really believe this stuff, don’t you? Jenson stared again at his disc.

Jenson, Jenson started as his grandfather used his name for the first time in as long as he could remember, "The Zyll Swarm is the enemy we are up against, and it is exactly what it sounds like. They are hugely powerful, perhaps a little behind in technology and analytical know-how, but one day without warriors like your father… warriors like you… they might just be good enough to win a few of these battles. On that day, the human species on every world will be at risk."

"Okay. Let’s just say I believe you. Why would the Zyll Swarm thing be held back by, like, seventy humans? And how do I end up being the best man for the job? I mean, come on! I’m seventeen! I’m no pilot, or soldier, or whatever they think I am. Surely you don’t want me to go and risk my life like this?"

"No. I don’t want you to go… and no. You really don’t understand any of this. At least, not yet."

Then tell me why it has to be me?

"I volunteered, all those years ago. They took dozens of us, just to find one who would willingly fight for them. I accepted their offer and the rest were brought home with their memories modified. What I didn’t understand back then, was that I had volunteered my blood-line. My ‘noble, selfless gesture’ has had a long and difficult cost to our family. It should be your father going off to join them, not you. Not yet."

But hang on… You said dad was most likely alive! Maybe they are coming to bring him home. Maybe they aren’t coming for me!

Yes, it is possible. I can always hope and pray that you are right, the old man sighed and gently rubbed the disc on his wrist. As he did, Jenson felt his own disc tremble slightly. We will know for certain when the disc turns red, he said quietly, Will you wheel me inside, boy. It’s a little hot out here for this old man.

Slowly, Jenson pushed the wheelchair back up the grounds and into the conservatory entrance. Without speaking, he took the old man into the cooler lounge and helped him out of the wheelchair and into his favourite seat next to the open window.

How long? he asked finally, Until they get here?

Not long, boy. Not long at all.

What if I refuse?

"Your disc is permanent. It is with you for the rest of your life. But, if no warrior steps forward in defence of this world, it will gradually fade and eventually disappear. If you believe the time is not right for you, I will go in your place. I will do what I can. Then, when I die, you will be called again. If you refuse the calling, if you will not go, when there is no protector the Keepers will no longer be able to protect the Earth. The Zyll Swarm will be able to find the planet and have their revenge on yet another Drak Warrior. As long as a willing protector remains for each planet, that planet is kept as safe as it can be by the Keepers."

Jenson thought long and hard in his bed that night. He tried to remember all the little stories Granddad had told him as he had grown up. No matter how hard he tried, he could not make it all fit. He vividly remembered Granddad telling him a bedtime story of how his father had been involved in a great space battle that had lasted many months, but Jenson never recalled his father being away for anything more than a few days before he disappeared. Besides, it had been a story.

Obviously a bit of poetic license in there, he muttered to himself.

He glanced at the disc, noting that the orange was significantly darker than it had been just an hour ago. The room was dark, other than the disc, but there was no orange ‘glow’. It was as if the disc could be seen, but did not send out its light to the room beyond. Jenson picked up a book from his bedside table and opened it randomly near the centre. He held his wrist against the page to see if it would give him enough light to read by, but there was no difference in the light upon the white page. He replaced the book and lay back into the bed, and flicked his eyes towards the rucksack he had filled a few hours earlier.

If Granddad was – as Jenson expected – slightly loony and very wrong, he would feel foolish for having actually prepared himself to leave… But if there was a chance that he was right, Jenson could not, would not, allow his frail old grandfather to go to war for him. He wanted to be ready to go.

3. The Keeper And The Choice

Daylight had crept around the outside of his curtains and was threatening to fill the room. Jenson rubbed his eyes and stared at the ceiling. He felt far more tired than he should have. He pushed himself to a sitting position and looked around the room. Nothing seemed any different to him, except that mild throb that seemed to be pulsing through everything.

He glanced at his clock, 4:07am. He looked around the room again, confirming that there was clearly the dull beginning of daylight coming in, just as he supposed there would normally be, then back to the clock, just as it changed to read 4:08am. Slowly he looked down to his wrist, seeing the disc as a solid red circle. Slowly, he got up and crossed to the window. Jenson pushed back the curtains slightly and light flooded in for the slightest moment, then vanished.

Jenson blinked hard and rubbed his eyes. He looked out to see the merest trace of dawn on the horizon beyond the town. His eyes readjusted to the light quickly and he looked down towards the street outside. There was a tall, very familiar-looking man, in the semi-darkness standing next to a child wearing what looked like a woolly hat.

Dad? Jenson threw all caution out of his mind and tore across his room, automatically pulling his rucksack out of the doorway with him as he went. He bounced down the stairs and out through the door, into the front garden and straight towards the two figures. Dad! he called as he approached.

No boy. It’s me, his Granddad said.

Jenson stopped and stared at the old man… who wasn’t old. He looked at least thirty years younger and fitter than ever. He opened and closed his mouth several times.

Granddad… you’re… wow! But how?

They have their ways, he gestured at the child alongside him. This is in case you choose not to go.

You mean, you could go, and be young again and fight, and protect the Earth…

No boy. This is only temporary so that I can survive the passway to the Keepers ship. I would soon be myself again, but yes, I could go if you don’t want to.

Survive the what? Hang on a minute, you mean they would let you fight as an old man who can hardly walk!?

It is the agreement I made. I would just be honouring that. To them it doesn’t matter who goes, but it has to be willingly. If you refuse, there are no second chances.

Jenson looked at the child for the first time and stopped dead. Although the features were humanoid, the child’s skin was a pale, creamy colour and its eyes were small and golden in colour. There was no nose or ears on the head and the mouth was wide and full of teeth.

"Is this one of them?" he asked in a whisper.

"Yes boy. This is Tooree. He is one of the Keepers."

Keepers?

"We keep your planet safe from the Zyll Swarm and other dangers," Tooree said in a wispy, grating voice.

"Oh, I get it! It’s a joke! Jenson chuckled in relief, Feed me the line, sticky disc-thing that changes colour – that’s pretty clever by the way – and shine a big light at my window, then get me out here with some actor bloke and a kid in a suit!"

This is no joke, Jenson. It is time to make your choice.

"HE SPEAKS ENGLISH!!! Jenson prodded at the child, DUH! He’s meant to be an alien!"

"You hear English! Granddad corrected. Your disc translates, please Jenson, it is not the best time to be shouting like this."

"Oh, of COURSE it does! he slapped his forehead, Why didn’t I think of that!? So where exactly is my real Granddad?"

Jenson, please. Remember what I told you. No second chances. If you refuse to go, I will go in your place, but this world will be far safer in your young hands than my old ones.

Yeah right! What are you, mid-forties? Yeah, real old! GRANDDAD!?!

Jenson it’s me! You have to trust me.

"I don’t have to do a damn thing for you!" Jenson picked up his rucksack and turned back towards the garden gate.

You are refusing your duty? Tooree asked, confused.

You know what, little guy, you can take your ‘duty’ and…

JENSON! NO! the man called out to stop him and Jenson turned in time to see him suddenly shudder violently and begin to transform back into the old man that was his grandfather.

Bloody Hell! Granddad!? Jenson ran back to the old man and helped him lean against the wall. Make him young again! he demanded to Tooree.

He can’t, boy. The energy would just about kill me this time, the old man gasped.

Right, I’m taking you back to your room, Jenson grabbed his grandfather and half lifted him in to a standing position. You can wait here! Jenson said to the Keeper.

One must come! Tooree said, One must choose!

Let me get some rest, said the old man, I will come.

As they turned towards the pathway that led the few hundred metres to the nursing home entrance, Jenson saw the familiar wheelchair and made his way towards it.

Granddad. How can you go? he asked quietly as he put the old man into the chair. And what the hell do I tell Aunty Maggs?

It is my duty to go, he gasped again, Clearly you aren’t ready. Maybe I can make them understand. Give you another chance, maybe in a few years. As for Maggs, well, tell her anything. Christ, boy, she might even go for the truth.

Yeah right, and there’ll be pigs flying yer spaceships! Jenson grinned, And anyway, what if they won’t give me another chance?

"I don’t know, boy. Maybe it will take the Swarm hundreds of years to get here, thousands, who knows."

"But they will come?"

"Without a willing protector, the Keepers are not able to hide our world. Yes. They will come!"

I’m still not sure this is all real, Jenson said quietly.

I don’t blame you boy, your dad was far worse when I told him! Threatened to have me chucked in the loony bin! they laughed, but there was no joy between the two.

Twenty minutes later, Jenson was heading back out of the home. Granddad was in bed and fast asleep. As he approached the gate, he saw his rucksack on the ground and bent to pick it up.

When will your warrior be ready? Tooree asked.

Jenson spun on the spot, dropping the rucksack and clutching his chest.

"Jesus Christ! Where did you come from?"

I await the warrior.

"He’s sleeping. He needs to rest. He is ill. Are you guys for real?"

There must be a warrior for this realm. Time is running out, Tooree growled. "The Zyll Swarm threatens the world of the Keepers. We cannot delay them for much longer. Our decoys are almost gone If our world dies, we cannot protect the worlds of the Great Drak! Once they find another few outposts, they will soon be able to find our planet."

Is that your way of saying yes? How long do we have?

"We have many of your minutes!"

"Okay, well that’s not too bad... MINUTES? Did you say minutes?"

"Yes. We have nineteen thousand!"

Jenson dropped to the ground, frantically calculating in his head.

Nineteen thousand, divided by sixty…that’s… three hundred and… come on!... twenty… no! Seventeen… ish… Right, so three-one-seven divided by twenty-four… is… THIRTEEN AND A BIT!!!

Thirteen days! he whispered, "We only have thirteen days?" he said aloud to Tooree.

Days, yes, I had forgotten all of your time units. That is approximately correct, but hopefully we will have longer.

Jenson thought about his grandfather, old and ill, overexerted from his efforts to protect him from what lay waiting out in space.

Do you know where my father is? he asked the Keeper.

The Keepers believe there are few places he could be. He still lives, as far as we know, croaked Tooree.

"So he is alive? Or he might be alive?"

We only have the certain knowledge that we have no proof of his death. I cannot be certain as to his condition or location.

If he’s alive, can I get him back?

I cannot answer, Tooree shook his head.

"What do you mean, cannot answer?"

Please, Tooree looked at Jenson and then closed his eyes, Your elders are great warriors and good friends to Tooree. I have tried to find your missing one. I can help you to seek him, but I cannot answer what I do not know.

"If we find him, can I go and rescue him?" Jenson stood and picked up his rucksack.

"Do you choose to come as a warrior of the Great Drak?" Tooree stretched himself to his full height, making him only a shade above four feet tall.

If I choose to come. Granddad stays here, yes?

"He does. His service will end when you choose to come. Only two warriors can serve for each realm. Your acceptance will release him."

And what about my refusal before?

You made no choice. You advised me that I could take my duty but never advised where I should take it.

Yeah, I… sorry about that. Forget that. It meant nothing. Can I just have a few minutes before we go?

Do you choose to…

Yeah, I get it. Stay here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.

Jenson rushed back into the house, though far quieter than when he had left. He grabbed Auntie Maggs’ notebook and a pen from beside the phone and scrawled a quick note, which he put on the worktop in the kitchen beside the coffee maker. She would be bound to find it there, and he knew that if he ever made it back alive, he would be in terrible trouble for running away like this. He looked up at the microwave clock. 4:46am.

He gently closed the front door behind him and walked down the pathway. As he exited the gate, Tooree stepped out of thin air and appeared before him. Jenson started and clutched his chest again.

We really need to have a chat about your entrances, he said quietly, Right. Ask your question.

"Do you choose to come as a warrior of the Great Drak?" Tooree asked loudly.

Yes! said Jenson, "I choose to join you as a warrior of the Great Drak."

Jenson Quest, Tooree reached out and touched his disc. It burned very briefly and then turned a vivid gold colour, Your choosing is accepted. Step through the passway, Tooree gestured to the area of pavement he had just stepped out of.

Jenson stared, but saw nothing, then as he stepped forward he saw a gentle ripple, as if a film of water stood erect on the ground.

I just step through? Do I need to hold my breath? Hang on to something? This is the thing that could have killed Granddad! Will it hurt me?

Yes. No. No. Yes… and no. Just step through. It will be well, Tooree gestured again.

Jenson swallowed hard, closed his eyes and stepped forward, visualising his atoms being torn apart and dragged through space at a billion miles an hour.

Want to watch where you’re going? said a voice.

Jenson’s eyes snapped open and he looked around him with his mouth wide open. All around were Keepers like Tooree, wearing a varied assortment of coloured uniforms. The area was large and oval with large openings and corridors leading away in four different directions. On the walls between the openings, were rows of large illuminated screens showing a variety of symbols and things Jenson did not recognise. Amongst the aliens, were a handful of humans, all watching him intently. They all wore black uniforms, though each of them appeared to have a different insignia on the chest. He raised his hand in a wave gesture to a couple of the nearest humans, but neither responded.

It’s Star Trek! he whispered to himself.

"Welcome aboard the Beeakh, said Tooree from beside him, This craft will be transporting the warriors of the Great Drak to the Planet of Skills."

"Where are we?"

You should look before we leave, Tooree indicated one of the archways in the wall a few metres directly ahead of him.

Jenson hurried through and saw a large window to his right, through which he could still make out the night sky over a large shadowed hill. He walked over and looked out. Beyond the hill the sky was dark and the moon was large and very high in the sky. Wherever they were it was a different time-zone and a different location.

Which way is Britain? Jenson asked as Tooree appeared beside him again.

There, Tooree pointed and Jenson followed his hand, then dropped his rucksack in disbelief. There in the sky, where the moon was meant to be, was Earth.

"We’re on the moon! Bloody hell we’re on the moon!"

We are leaving in moments. You should go and change in your quarters. I will show you when you have seen.

As Jenson gazed from the window, the Beeakh lifted off from the crater and flew directly away from Earth. Stars instantly moved and then became like tiny floating dashes in the window as the craft accelerated, taking Jenson far away from Earth. He watched the stars for a long moment and then considered the surrounding room once again. He turned and faced Tooree.

How am I expected to fight? How will I know what to do?

All will be learned. It will be well, Tooree nodded slowly and then gestured back towards the archway.

Back on Earth the clock on the wall ticked around to 4:52am. As the old man slept, the disc on his wrist turned gently back to the colour of his skin, the subtle hint of the outline would be all that remained visible.

4. Quarters

Tooree showed Jenson back through the archway and into the room where they had arrived. Beyond the group of humans ahead of them stood another doorway.

Your quarters are through there, Tooree gestured to the door.

Isn’t that the passway-thingy we came through before? Jenson asked suspiciously.

It is. You must tell it where you wish to go. It will recognise your disc.

Okay, so, where do I wish to go?

Your quarters.

That’s it? Jenson looked disappointed, No big white corridors? No swishy doors??

There are many corridors. But they do not serve to transport you to your quarters as quickly as this, Tooree said, I will contact you to come for your briefing. You must change into your uniform.

"Where do I get my uniform? Do I get a uniform?"

Your quarters will provide.

Jenson looked at Tooree and then back at the group of humans who still watched him intently. Again he waved and smiled at them. Again he got no response.

I’ll just, go then, shall I?

Yes, said Tooree simply.

Right, Jenson turned back towards the gently shimmering doorway, "This had better work… Quarters!" he said clearly, and stepped forward.

He stepped into a spacious apartment-type room. It was immaculately furnished just like his dream bedroom would have been back home. A large plasma screen TV hung on the main wall with a huge deep red leather sofa facing it. There was a stereo, a gaming console, a laptop computer and a huge luxurious bed placed tastefully against the far wall, below a long narrow window which showed the merest streaks of the stars as they passed by in the distant space. The carpet was a plush, rich orange and there were pictures of distant planets and a variety of spacecraft on the walls.

He was staring intently at a very familiar photograph of the Space Shuttle, when a tall, dark haired man in a black suit entered the room through a doorway in the far corner. He smiled and nodded a welcome to Jenson, who hitched up his rucksack and smiled uneasily.

"Oops. Sorry. I was told the passway would take me to my quarters."

"These are your quarters, young Mister Quest, the man smiled, I am Richard. I am here to take care of your needs."

What, you mean like a butler? Jenson asked, frowning.

Sort of, yes. That’s how it was in your grandfather’s day. But now we serve more as a companion and assistant than a servant.

Wow! Great! I mean, thank you, that will be good. And… I’m supposed to be sorting out my uniform. Do you know where I go for that?

Just to your right. In your wardrobe, Richard replied, Would you like some food, or something to drink?

Yes. Please. That would be great. What do you have?

Everything. Tell me what you would like.

"Everything? Jenson echoed Richards’s nodded response with his mouth open. Well, in that case, some breakfast would be good, I guess, some orange juice and toast with butter and jam would be great for now."

Excellent. I’ll do us both some. It should be ready for you by the time you are changed.

Jenson smiled and moved towards the door, then stopped.

"Hang on… Did you know my grandfather?"

No. I’m sorry to say I did not, but I know all about him and his time with the Keepers.

Hmmm, never mind then. Is this another passway? he asked as he stared at the door less aperture in the wall, I can’t see through the opening.

Sort of, said Richard, "The wardrobe door will take you to your wardrobe, just as it would take me to mine. It requires you to enter and be measured so that you can be issued with suitable clothing and uniforms. You will quickly understand how it works."

Yeah, okay, Jenson dropped his rucksack to his forearm and leaned it against the wall next to the doorway, then stepped carefully through the opening.

The room beyond seemed to be fairly narrow, but in the dim light, Jenson could not see the farthest wall. A few steps ahead of him was a translucent disc on the floor, which gave off an unnatural yellow light.

"Step onto the panel," a subtly mechanical voice said.

I’ve come for my uniform. You know, a uniform to go to the briefing in? Jenson said into the room. There was no response. Hello! Can you hear me? he said louder.

After a few moments, he turned to leave, but there was no door.

Umm… Can someone let me out please? I’ll come back later when there’s someone here. again he waited for a response, or for the door to materialise or open. Again there was nothing. He pushed at the wall, then turned back to the glowing disc. Step on the panel? Do you mean this? he pointed at the disc but again, there was no response.

After a few more moments of silence, Jenson stepped gingerly onto the disc.

"Identity affirmed. Jenson Quest. Warrior. Planet Earth. Designation, third protector of the twenty-sixth realm. Please state your needs."

My… needs? Oh, what do I want? Jenson rolled his eyes, A Drak Warrior Uniform for the briefing please.

Nothing happened for several long moments. Then, just as he was coming to the conclusion that something was wrong, the whole room lit up to reveal a row of varied uniforms and other clothes to his right. To his left, a huge cabinet appeared containing a massive variety of boots and shoes and a handful of helmets. He crossed to the helmets and picked one of them up.

"Jenson Quest will require his dress uniform until the Beeakh reaches the Planet Of Skills. You will then require…"

Yeah, yeah, alright, one thing at a time! Jenson sighed. He put the helmet down again and turned to see an immaculate black uniform invisibly suspended alongside the disc and a pair of tough looking black shoes. Brilliant! Thanks, whoever you are.

"Please change into your uniform," the voice said, evenly.

In here? Jenson raised his eyebrows, Are you hiding in here somewhere, perving on me?

After another few moments silence, Jenson changed quickly into the jet black shirt, which had strange magnetic fasteners and then he put on the uniform. It fitted perfectly and felt as though it weighed nothing. Jenson stepped back as he admired the stunning logo of blue, green and white on his chest. An almost perfect planet Earth, surrounded by a series of unusual blue symbols. As he stepped around looking down at his front and sleeves, he inadvertently stepped back onto the panel. Almost immediately he was surrounded by six full-length mirrors, with a solitary gap directly behind him, through which he could see the doorway and his quarters beyond it. Jenson grinned and nodded to himself. Looking good, man! he said aloud.

Minutes later, Jenson stepped back out through the wardrobe door, just as Richard placed a large glass of orange juice and a plate of perfectly toasted bread onto the table next to the sofa. He looked up as Jenson held his arms wide and turned full circle.

Whaddaya think? Jenson asked, smiling broadly, Do I look good or what?

Just like your father, Richard smiled sadly.

"You knew dad?"

Of course. I am also from Earth. I serve here, as my father served your grandfather, to make you a home away from home. These were your father’s quarters, and your grandfather’s before him. Come and have your breakfast.

Do you know where dad is? Jenson asked as he sat himself on the sofa and picked up his drink.

I’m sorry no. Whilst he has been missing, the Keepers sent me home. I arrived back here only a short while before you.

But he isn’t dead, well, they’re not certain, but if all this is real… Jenson shook his head, Tooree told me that I might be able to get him back if I can find out where my dad is.

There are a lot of theories about that, yes, said Richard, "But no-one is certain what really happened. Despite what they may have told you, he could be dead."

But the disc! Jenson said through a mouthful of toast, Granddad’s disc never turned black. So that must mean he is alive somewhere.

It is possible, Richard sat in an armchair opposite, "But that doesn’t make it probable."

You think he’s dead, Jenson said matter-of-factly.

"I fear that he may be, yes. But I truly hope and pray that he is alive. He was… is my only true friend."

Jenson and Richard sat in silence for what seemed like an age. Both absently chewing on toast and drinking orange juice.

Do you know what happened to my dad?

I know most of it, said Richard. Jenson… your dad, Jenson… was on a patrol. The Keeper battle group had joined together and we were heading for a rendezvous with the rest of the fleet. I seem to recall we were trying to head off a Zyll battle group who had located one of the remote Keeper bases. Anyway, there was an asteroid field but it had some sort of charged energy cloud in the centre. Your dad went to investigate. I guess the only person who really knows what went wrong would be his weapons officer.

His what?

Weapons Officer. the Drak fly two-man planes, one pilot, one weapons officer. Whatever happened, it made your dad eject from the plane. The weapons officer was trapped and the plane went through the cloud without power. There was some sort of lightning storm within the cloud and your dad’s escape pod got hit and catapulted out of the system.

Didn’t you all go after him?

They tried to pursue, but the acceleration was sudden and very severe. Nothing in the fleet could have caught the pod. They analysed the trajectory for ages, but if he was really alive, then he was probably still moving too fast to be caught. The escape pods have no power other than for minor manoeuvring, so he would have been a passenger until he died.

But he isn’t dead! Granddad told me that he never came back, the disc didn’t bring him home.

I can’t give you a reason for that, Jenson. Perhaps there’s a range limit on the discs that your dad went beyond. Certainly the Keepers have considered this possibility.

"Are they still searching for him? Is anyone still searching for him?"

I don’t think so, no. Maybe Tooree could answer that question, Jenson was about to speak when a familiar rough voice spoke from nowhere.

Warrior Quest. It is time for your briefing, said Tooree. Jenson turned, expecting to see him standing behind him once again, but only his voice was present.

Internal communication, Richard confirmed, Tooree will no doubt be waiting for you at the briefing room.

Is that where I ask the Passway to take me? asked Jenson.

"Yes," said Richard and Tooree’s voices at the same time.

Jenson gulped down the last of his drink and shoved a last piece of toast into his mouth, then stood and headed for the rippling doorway in the wall.

I’d like to know more about what could have happened to my dad, he said to Richard quietly. I intend to look for him.

I don’t know any more, but we can discuss it later. You should get to your briefing, Richard smiled.

Briefing Room! Jenson announced, and stepped through the passway once again.

5. The Warriors Briefing

Tooree and the briefing room burst into view as Jenson stepped out of the passway in the outer concourse area. The concourse was large and very oval, like the one he had initially arrived in, but the room beyond the large sliding door he faced was like a large ultra-modern classroom during an examination with an illuminated screen at the far end, and rows of small desks facing the screen, all equally spaced out. He entered the briefing room and nodded to Tooree as he ran his fingers over the nearest desk. Each desk appeared to have a miniature computer attached to the rear right corner and a small group of strange black symbols in the front left corner.

Jenson quickly counted rows and columns. There were one hundred and twelve desks in all.

I think I’m getting used to that passway thing now, he said quietly to Tooree, as he started taking in the assortment of humans gathered in the room.

Each was accompanied by a keeper like Tooree, and although each was undeniably a human man, woman, or like himself a teenager or youth, some of their cultural differences made for a unique sight. One particularly tall, muscular and very tattooed man looked around appraisingly at the gathering. In many cases he seemed unimpressed, but after a few scans of the room his eyes fell on Jenson and a partial smile crossed his mouth. As Jenson stood speechless, the massive man approached across a third of the length of the briefing room, his tiny keeper struggling to keep up with his strides.

You are Quest! his voice said in a normal, steady tone.

I… yes. How did you…?

I fought alongside your father. He was a great warrior, he sighed sadly, and a good friend. he offered his hand, I am Mussa, defender of Naygara. Sixth Protector of the Ninth Realm.

Jenson shook his hand happily.

I am Jenson Quest.

"Ah! Named for your father and grandfather, as was I, in fact, as many here are named after their fore-fathers, he smiled a genuine smile, I hope we will be friends."

I would like that, Jenson nodded, Very much.

We must talk Jenson Quest. But not now. There will be time, Mussa turned on his heel and walked briskly away.

A musical semi-tone filled the room and the warriors moved towards their desks, while the keepers simultaneously moved towards stools positioned around the outside of the briefing room.

Do I just sit anywhere? Jenson asked Tooree as he hurried away.

Go to the desk of your Realm. Twenty Six. The numbers are on the desks.

You mean those squiggly symbols? I can’t read them! Jenson whispered urgently.

Of course, I forgot, My apologies, Tooree pushed back Jenson’s sleeve and placed his hand over the disc. Close your eyes a moment please, he said.

Jenson closed his eyes and felt a shudder through the disc. A moment later he saw a flash before his closed eyes and felt a mini-wave of nausea.

It is done. Open your eyes, Tooree said.

Jenson opened his eyes and swayed slightly as the room fell completely out of focus.

Whoa man, what have you done to me?

Just give your brain a moment to recalibrate. Then you should be able to translate all written words and symbols, as long as you have enough text there for the disc to work adequately. Our written language is already embedded, so you should be able to read it as soon as you refocus, Tooree waited a moment while Jenson blinked at the room around him and then nodded. We must sit quickly. The briefing will soon start.

Jenson hurried into the rows of desks, suddenly able to read the black numbers that had miraculously replaced the indecipherable symbols he had seen there just a few minutes before. He zigzagged through the seated warriors, following the numbers down and to his right, until he found desk number twenty six. He sat quickly and stared up at the main screen, which showed a logo similar to the one on his uniform. But with a gold and blue planet surrounded by black lettering.

‘THE REALM OF THE KEEPERS’

Jenson looked down at his own logo, now able to read the blue text around the shining image of Earth. Arced above the disc of the planet were the words;

‘THE TWENTY SIXTH REALM’

And then in slightly smaller text below;

‘THIRD PROTECTOR – THE GREAT DRAK’

The room darkened as he read and his small computer screen flicked into life. At the same time, an old man appeared on the screen in front of them. The already quiet room subdued even further as the old man nodded and began to address the warriors.

"Warriors of The Great Drak. Welcome back and thank you for returning to your service,

I regret that we call on you at what is possibly the time of our greatest ever challenge. A great many of your worlds will depend on our actions. If we do not prevail. The consequences will almost certainly be catastrophic for human kind throughout the galaxy,

The Zyll Swarm are presently close to tracing the location of the home world of the Keepers. I do not need to tell you that if they find this world, they will have access to all the necessary means to find the human realms also, and they will almost certainly send their armadas against us all,

For now, they are scattered and following a series of false trails. But we know they will soon over-run our efforts to distract them. They have already found and destroyed one of our main outposts, which we had thought they were not close to discovering. So we have brought The Great Drak together once more, in the hope that we can stop the Zyll Swarm and their new Vuron Super Weapon,"

A murmur filled the briefing room, but died down instantly.

And I’m just a kid who has never fought before, Jenson said to himself in a whisper. But even as he uttered the words, his eyes widened as he watched them appear on his tiny screen.

"Indeed, there are several new Warriors amongst our group. You shall all prove your value at The Planet of Skills,"

He heard that!? Jenson whispered again, and again the words appeared before him.

"Yes, young Quest is it not? I hear all that is said in this room, the old man on the screen answered him. Now. Warriors of the Great Drak. I ask you to consult your screens, which will show you all that we know about the whereabouts and movements of the Zyll Swarm’s main ships of their second Armada, and the new weapon they have been deploying. There is a great deal to learn before we arrive at the Planet of Skills in just seven yriks."

Jenson blinked hard at the man on the screen. Whatever an ‘yrik’ was, it didn’t sound like it was very long. Tooree appeared at his side and touched a small grey pad at the side of the screen. Immediately, the screen changed and began to show images of several ships and the technical data for each, followed by a stellar map and coordinates. Jenson read the data with renewed interest.

"These things, these space ships, they actually exist?"

They do, Tooree confirmed, These are the main ships of the Zyll Swarm’s Second Armada. These ships are seeking out my planet.

All around there was suddenly an audible gasp, which Jenson joined in with as the next ship materialised on his screen.

What in God’s name!!! Stop the screen! Pause it! said Jenson. All around him, other warriors were doing the same. Tooree touched the pad again and the image and data remained on the screen.

"Warriors of the Great Drak, said the man on the main screen, before his image disappeared to be replaced by an image of the same ship now paused on most of the screens around the room. This is The Grand Ship Zytagg! The largest vessel in the Zyll Second Armada, and the main firing platform for their new weapon. Please watch carefully. This footage was captured by a redundant orbiting weather satellite we had converted to monitor the base."

Jenson watched the screen in unblinking silence as the massive vessel dropped something large, like an oval plate. It drifted downwards for a moment before three massive balls of lightning-filled gas suddenly erupted from the underside and spread themselves evenly over the base below, while a huge squadron of totally ineffective