Worlds Apart

By Phil Cocker

Eric Peterson, a teenager destined to fulfill a 1000 year old legacy on another planet, wanted to get home. Along with friends, old and new, he'd beaten the Rexon, had blown up their ship and used a device called a Kylapitar to escape. Alas, escape got him away from imminent death, yet to where. The Eden in which he found himself and his friends seemed unreal, yet here he was until he could get everyone home.
He had to follow the basic survival instructions his father had taught him, and ask questions of himself and some strange people around him. The planet he's got them safely too has it's own hidden stories, which may take some of them down the wrong path.
Meanwhile King Harvin, Aisha's father, and Janosh, have to escape the tortuous prison on the blazingly hot planet, occupied by the scheming Commander Prant and his Rexon army.
Major Ian Jackson, of the Earth Defence Force MI9 was using all his skills and abilities to get his team off world, and save Eric. He believed in the prophecy, and would do all he could to help this young man live up to it. Although he finds a spy within his camp.
Eric may have freed the Ansolonians from the Rexon, but at what cost. With the King and his security chief mysteriously missing, we see their hated enemy, the Mallesians send their top spy Sharlock on a mission to discover the truth behind the stories.
Action, adventure, and intrigue abounds as story lines twist and turn, taking the reader on a rollercoaster of a ride, before bringing it all to a head in an explosive finale, where many questions will be asked, and answered.
Will Harvin and Janosh return to their planet before the Mallesians discover their true fates?
Will Major Jackson discover who the spy is, and save Eric?
And will Eric fulfill the next part of the 1000 year old destiny?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Phil Cocker
• Release date: May 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9780956330246

Phil Cocker

A little hint of me – Philip Cocker.The second-born son of a cabinet-maker and a primary school cook; I was named after an electrical fan heater in my parent’s bedroom, where they still live in Preston, Lancashire. I married my gorgeous soul-mate, Paula, in 2009 in Las Vegas. Elvis serenaded us down the aisle as family and friends watched on a live webcast, dressed in their pyjamas. Note: wearing “PJs” wasn’t a stipulation of allowing them to watch, more than it was 11 pm in the UK. We live in Stacksteads, Bacup, near to Paula’s daughter (and my book cover designer) - Hannah, and our cat Treacle.Having worked for the same Aircraft manufacturing company for 39 years, learning how to use lathes as an apprentice through analysing processes and workflows, to dealing with US Export legislation, I retired in 2019. During that time I’ve made many good friends and enjoyed many happy moments. I’ve been extremely fortunate to have been involved in areas that include working in the Wind Tunnels on a prototype fighter plane, hone my Service Excellence skills with the UK Guru – Chris Daffy, through to reducing an HM Customs & Revenue Import Duty liability bill from £334m to £80,000.When I met Paula in 2006, she was already fostering Sophie, and I took to my new role in her life surprisingly easily. Sophie’s complex needs mean that she relied on us for virtually everything, but gave back so much more from her delight in simply hearing a voice she knew and loved, to her hearty laugh when someone coughed or sneezed. We knew we were the lucky ones to have had Sophie in our lives, as she brought more to us than we could ever give her back.About 2005 years ago, I put a finger to keyboard as the inclination to write the book within gripped me. My initial aspiration of simply writing a novel has moved on step by tiny step as I pass each goal, from other’s reading and enjoying The Kylapitar through to them demanding to know if there’s more to come. Future aspirations include being able to replace my aging laptop with a new MacBook Pro, to help continue my passion for writing. To sit quietly in Waterstones in the Trafford Centre and watch someone pick my book off the shelf & buy it, knowing that the same will be happening all over the country. To be able to travel to inspirational places around the world, enjoy the architecture, culture, and people and use those experiences as inspiration and characters for future novels. Yet all those would pale into insignificance if I was able to sit in a reasonably priced car whilst The Stig teaches me how to drive it around the Top Gear track.

Book preview

Chapter 1. The End of the Beginnings

FLASH!

Janosh Acflor, Security Chief and very good friend of King Harvin of the planet Ansolon, sat back in the huge spoon-shaped metal chair and smiled melancholically. He flicked a wayward lock of his carrot coloured mop-top hair back into place and considered how the day had gone. The plan he’d devised with the Earthling, Eric Peterson, had gone very well. They’d boarded the huge Starship that orbited his planet and taken control of the main hangars. Janosh had set off on his own mission, had managed to plant his small explosive devices in the ship’s arsenal, and had found his primary target, the Supreme Commander of the Rexon Fleet, K’nash. Meanwhile, Eric and his friends, Princess Aisha, the thief Skaler, and the diminutive winged wood-squire Ashton Debrun, completed their primary mission and freed over 400 people from their vacuum packed living nightmare, and Janosh was pleased to see that they’d all escaped off the ship safely.

Overall, apart from the slight timing issue he was having in getting off the ship, it had been a good day.

Janosh gazed at the Supreme Commander of the Rexon Military, K’nash, who was searching frantically through his desk. Janosh wondered what he was looking for, but was still amused by the spectacle.

His chair bounced off the floor, making him giggle like a child on the playground. There she blows! He hollered, gripping the now bucking chair. I presume you’ve lost something? He asked, wondering what the Supreme Commander could possible find that would help him at this very moment.

K’nash growled at Janosh, stopping for an instant to glare at the Human who was finding the situation amusing. You have failed yourself. The anger was spat across the metal desk at Janosh, as K’nash tried to remove the smile.

I think we did a good job, overall. Janosh nodded, still smiling. Apart from this minor hiccup. His chair bucked once more.

You call blowing yourself up a hiccup? K’nash growled. On my Ship?

Janosh thought about it for a second. The plan he and Eric Peterson had devised had coming to fruition. The teenager, Eric, who’d arrived from another Galaxy, from a planet called Earth, and who he’d only met days before was turning out to be very resourceful and intelligent. He’d led his team very well, getting the 400 humanoid test subjects off the ship and down onto the planet Ansolon, below. This, in itself, would be a major coup for the rebellion against the Rexon, as those 400 would have been used for experiments to find a disease that would kill all humanoid life.

Ah, but my primary mission was to kill you, and well… He pointed at the floor of K’nash’s office which rippled like a wave. I think I’m achieving that, indirectly. He rolled his head from side to side.

Another explosion was heard, deep below them and after a few tense seconds, the floor bucked once more.

Janosh giggled again.

K’nash continued to dig around in his drawer, muttering words Janosh didn’t understand.

So yes, a minor hiccup. Janosh agreed to his conclusion as the huge Starship they were currently on was being blown apart, and the subsequent look of horror on the face of his enemy, was enough to keep him smiling. The irony of this action and his subsequent predicament wasn’t lost on him, as he knew that he was about to become the latest casualty in this battle. Yet, from his viewpoint, he’d much rather sacrifice himself so that the others could live, than have to live with the grief of losing any one of them.

What have you done? The gravelly voice of the Alien leader sat across the desk from him came out as a half bark, half scream.

Another explosion rocked the room; the metal structure of the ship creaked and groaned, screaming as if it knew its existence was ending.

Woo Hoo! Janosh giggled as his feet were lifted momentarily off the floor. Wow, those bombs in that arsenal were very, very big, weren’t they? he added, impressed with the Rexon firepower he’d turned against them. And the ones I’d left next to them were such teeny-weeny things. He held his thumb and index fingers a short distance apart to demonstrate the size of his own devices. But when they set one of yours off, well, it just creates one huge BOOM! His hands flashed out, dramatizing the explosion.

On cue, another bomb exploded, carving the ship in two, the rear section fell away from the main part in slow motion. The force of the blast caused the vessel to roll over, its stationary orbit above the planet Ansolon starting to decay.

Alarms blared, and footsteps clattered by the closed door as many Rexon dashed to escape pods in an effort to save themselves from the inevitable.

Janosh laughed and shook his head as K’nash continued to scramble around in a desk drawer as everything inside the office started to slide towards the left hand wall. He lifted his feet up, enjoying the slow glide across the now slanted reality, keeping pace with the desk and the stumbling Rexon leader.

K’nash froze as he spotted what he was after, diving forward and snatching hold of the item as another explosion ripped the floor apart directly beneath the desk. The blast split the piece of solid metal furniture in two as if it had been made of paper. Its contents spewed into the air, including the gun that K’nash had laid down while he searched through his drawers. Janosh spotted his chance and leapt for the weapon, just as his own chair was thrown off the floor; the force pushing him up to get nearer to the gun that had been flung into the air.

He realised that it was all a very futile act, but he liked the idea that he would have killed K’nash before the bombs did. It would give him one final piece of satisfaction, and a last goal to aim for.

More bombs exploded, as a cascade of detonations rippled through the ship. Volatile chemicals used within systems and the fuel tanks helped Janosh’s cause. Parts of the ship broke off, floating away into space, taking their contents of systems and people along with them.

In K’nash’s room, Janosh was feeling cheated. He was trying his best, but the bombs he’d set off were beating him to his final mission. Even though he felt disappointed, knowing the end was only seconds away, he continued to stretch his arm out as he flew through the air, his fingers touching the cool metal on the side of the gun. He managed to clamp his fingers around the grip just as the final series of bombs blew in unison.

Flames leapt up out of the chasm in the floor of K’nash’s office and the flash engulfed them both.

Janosh Actflor never heard the final explosion, splitting the ship into a million tiny parts.

Chapter 2. A New Start.

Eric Peterson sat quietly on a large round rock, his feet tucked up, his knees under his chin, and his arms wrapped tightly them. He’d been perched on there all night, watching the moons pass overhead, and was now watching the sun rising over the distant mountains on this strange planet they were currently on. Its radiant light and heat crept down the mountains behind his battle weary friends as they slept. As it drew over them he closed his eyes and enjoyed the warmth flow down his face. The night had been very cold and the fire they’d made had been welcome, but was only warm if you were within a reasonable distance to it. The rock was within that radius, and so, his back had been warmed all night.

The fire had also been useful in keeping the varied wildlife at bay that he’d heard investigating the new arrivals, staying within the relative cover of the surrounding dense forest.

Eric opened his eyes and watched the early mist, which had sat as a duvet over the lake, form into a cloud and slowly rise up in the warming air. He watched in awe, because compared to what had occurred over the last few days, it was a beautiful sight to see, and one that finally distracted him from his night full of internal turmoil and serious thinking.

During the course of the night, he’d glanced many times at his friends, checking they were all there, checking they were all OK. As much as his brain automatically asked for him to complete the task one more time, he didn’t need to, as he knew exactly how his friends would be positioned around the fire, behind him.

Aisha was the nearest, just behind him, to the left. She was curled into a tight ball, lying nearest to the fire, the young and very pretty princess’s face brightly lit all night by the dancing flames. Her long blonde hair, which was held together in a bun, now draped over the arm she was using as a makeshift pillow. Adjacent to Aisha was Eric’s best friend, Tom.

Eric sighed, thinking of what his best friend had been through. Tom had been killed, stolen from the grave, and then sent to a distant galaxy. There he was brought back to life to be used as a human guinea pig whilst a bunch of Alien scientists found a way to kill all humans, and then vacuum packed and stored, before finally being freed by Eric and his new friends. After all of that trauma, Eric knew that Tom was lying on his back, arms and legs spread eagled out from under the jacket he was using as a blanket, snoring his head off noisily, without a care in the world. That was Tom, carefree and comical.

What Eric had noticed was Tom’s former fuller figure had trimmed down over the past few weeks, and he looked better and fitter for it.

Skaler was next, at the furthest point from Eric. A petty thief turned friend and savior of a planet, he had proved to be useful when they’d been captured, and Eric had grown to like him, despite their first meeting in a gorge. Skaler was also curled up in a safe ball, occasionally opening one eye as he slept fitfully through the night. His cute mousy curls and almost too pretty face helped him win the hearts of his victims, as they’d easily believe that he was just some young lad, not a Master thief, part of the Guild of Thieves on Ansolon.

Finally, there was Ashton Debrun, the diminutive but majestic Hawcon leader who was amongst the branches of the tree above Eric, snuggled into a small hollow, soundly resting. He’d curled his wings around his diminutive body to use as a blanket. His external features belied the fact that he was so old, as he appeared to be only in his mid 50’s, yet was over 200 years old.

Eric was the only one who hadn’t slept, his mind racing through countless possibilities, problems, and dangers they now faced. The main three that had occupied the nights hours were that they’d blown up the Rexon ship, causing untold problems between the Rexon and the Ansolonians. Yes, they’d defeated the enemy of the Ansolonians, but at what cost. How many Rexon had survived, and with what force. Had there been smaller craft that had escaped, and were now attacking the planet? Or, had the Ansolonians turned on any Rexon, beating and torturing the few who had escaped. As strange as that might have seemed, to anyone else, Eric had been brought up to respect all life, no matter how big or small, how curious or seemingly useless in the world. Everything had a place, and he’d been told that nature would weed out the weak; it wasn’t for man to do that, even though there were hundreds of species on Earth that had been eradicated by man.

Secondly, they’d initially beamed to another planet that had Rexon soldiers on it, wherever that was, within whichever galaxy they’d been to, and Eric worried about how many more planets there were, and how many had Rexon on them. Finally, for the three major problems he had churned over and over in his head, he was now being seen as the leader of this group and had sent them to who knows where, with no real means of getting back to Earth. Yes, they had a Kylapitar device, so could transport themselves to anywhere the symbols led them to, but none of them understood the symbols, and none of them knew where the symbols could take them. They could try a series of hit and miss attempts, scrolling through the series of symbols, one by one, trying each one, but they’d never know where they were being sent to. Each time they used the next symbol would mean one further away from the starting point. Would there be danger, would it be inhabited, would it be able to sustain life. He could be sending them to a place with no air, or into space. His imagination raced away with the possibilities, and it took an almighty effort to ease them out of the way and return to the present.

Eric looked at the view ahead of him, and thought about how much it reminded him of the Alps. He sighed, thinking it had been only a couple of years since he’d been there, with his mum, Emma, and his dad, Simon, on Earth. His thought’s drifted quickly away, the pain of losing his father still a touch raw. Eric closed his eyes and saw a vision of his mum just doing maternal things around the house, nothing exact, just a mix of pictures and videos in his mind, as if in a lucid dream. His lips tensed as the emotions welled up within him. She’d been there for him so much in the last two years, since his dad had died, and now he’d left the planet without her knowing what had happened. He wished he could tell her he was OK, and relatively safe, and was going to try his hardest to get home. He heard a muffled noise behind him and turned to see that everyone within their little army of renegades had the same problem, and as their leader, he had to keep them safe and more importantly find a way home for all of them.

All these thoughts kept bouncing around his young head all night, keeping him awake. They had agreed a roster for keeping watch, with each one of them being given a two hour period. Eric had said he’d go first, and at that point he’d decided to not wake anyone else up.

You are a very noble and foolish young man, Eric Peterson. The majestic voice of Ashton Debrun, the Hawcon Leader whispered into his ear.

I couldn’t sleep. Eric didn’t turn round, but kept looking towards the edge of the lake where small waves lapped at the shingle shoreline, soothing his mind. I had too much to think about. He smiled at Ashton, watching the diminutive winged humanoid land on a rock in front of him, And I still don’t know what to do.

Ashton returned the smile, I am here to help you in any way I can, even if that is to act as a mere sounding board for your worries, whenever you wish, whatever they may be. He folded his wings gracefully behind him, and leant back against them, using them as a tripod leg. I have many years’ experience, not only from life in general, but a s a leader of my people, so please let me impart some of that wisdom to you, to help ease your concerns, or guide you.

Eric had come to understand how appearances were very deceptive since starting this adventure. This small half-person, half-bird creature seemed so fragile, but had the heart of a lion, and the presence of a king. He’d come to respect Ashton over the last few days, and knew that he would become a very useful ally, especially with his abilities. Yet above all of that, he had already become a good friend, and trusted his council. You more than anyone know my dilemma, as you can read my mind.

Eric, my dear boy, I may be able to read minds, it doesn’t mean that I always choose to do so.

Eric was taken aback, pleased for the moment to lose the night’s worries within a conversation. So, you’re not reading minds all the time?

Oh dear No, to have the ability on all the time, reading everyone’s thoughts would be too much. The noise from all of the voices in my mind would drive me insane. He shook his head. No, definitely not, we focus our thoughts onto a singular person. For many centuries, my people battled with ourselves, until we passed laws against the act of entering a mind without consent. It would an intrusion into someone’s privacy. Ashton scowled, shaking his head in disgust at the thought of such an act.

So, how did you know everything about me, then? Eric asked.

Ah, well, even though we may not read a person’s thoughts, we can clearly see if a person is honest. Ashton eagerly explained. Then, if they are true, we let them carry on with their stories and tales.

But you thought I was lying? Eric was quite perplexed by the thought that Ashton had initially thought of him as an untrustworthy person.

I could tell you were not being openly true, but that you were overall an honest person. Ashton smiled. To our eyes, there is a glow around each and everyone of us, and that changes with the moods of the person. When you lied your aura darkened, but it was still a vibrant aqua-marine colour, which is the colour of the great leaders of the world.

Eric blushed. Well, thank God for the colour scheme.

God may have had a hand in helping us meet, in his own mysterious way, Ashton raised a knowing eyebrow towards Eric. But I sensed something a lot stronger within you, and knowing the prophecy, I had to delve a little deeper. He looked at Eric and then bowed in shame as the continued. I apologise for that intrusion, but I had to make sure that you could have been who I thought you were. He raised his head to look at Eric, and once again, felt the trueness of this young man facing him.

Eric blushed more, honoured and humbled by the thought that he could be this great leader. About the prophecy. He cleared his throat and looked at the floor anxiously. I know that it may look like it’s me, but I’m not that person. His glanced back up at Ashton. I’m not a hero.

A true hero will always denounce his claim on any title. Ashton said.

Oh no, you can’t say that; that’s not fair. Eric argued. So, If I said was a Hero, then I would be, but saying I’m not means that I am, because I….. Oh, I don’t understand really.

They looked at each other and then burst out laughing, waking the others up.

What’s up? Tom shot up, his fists positioned for an instant attack on any potential foe. He blinked furiously, finally yawning and stretching once he realised that they were safe.

Nothing my good friend Tom, it was a conversation between myself and Eric, and it had the desired reaction. Ashton explained.

What? It was meant to wake us up? Skaler merely opened one eye and peered at the now standing group around the fire.

No, it was meant to make Eric smile, and momentarily release him from his woes and fears. Ashton watched the now beaming Eric, and could clearly see the purple hues within his aura drift away along with the previous night’s troubles.

Chapter 3. Alive and Kicking.

Janosh opened his eyes, but couldn’t see anything; it took a second to adjust after the flash of light. He didn’t have a clue where he was, but that didn’t matter.

He was alive.

Instinctively dropping low to the floor he scanned all around, and through what were still very hazy eyes spotted his target ahead of him, standing 3 metres away. Janosh could see that K’Nash was also struggling with the change in light, as he was using the back of his hands to rub his eyes.

Janosh felt the comforting weight of the gun in his hand, even though, for some weird reason, it felt a little lighter and strangely sticky, as if someone had poured syrup down it. That was inconsequential as he raised his arm and aimed the weapon at his target. Janosh’s eyes started to clear and he noticed the colour of the sky was a hazy green. He felt a little dizzy, which he thought was an after effect from being transported from the now completely destroyed ship. Years of military and police training were working overtime within Janosh as he used instinct and muscle memory to curl his finger around the trigger. As all of the training raged forward, controlling virtually every millimetre of his mind, there was also a tiny voice, right at the back, which seemed totally unrelated to the current action. It had raised a small question, as it knew something wasn’t quite right.

K’nash stopped rubbing his eyes, and turned around, admiring the familiar scenery. As he got halfway round he stopped, and looked at the human crouched down before him aiming a weapon his way. He blinked a couple of times, looked again and then started to laugh.

Janosh was momentarily puzzled but also quite pleased to see that K’nash was happy to be killed, and he squeezed the trigger, not wanting to take a second longer than was needed to end this, and he would complete his mission.

Nothing happened, as Janosh realised that something was definitely wrong with the gun. His eyes pulled their focus back from the laughing Rexon Leader to the end of the gun. The green hazy light that illuminated the planet wasn’t helping and Janosh wished he had a torch. The little voice at the back of his mind grew, shouting that there was a problem, and started to barge its way through to the front. Janosh turned the gun sideways, very slowly, to get a better view, and he blinked a couple of times as his brain couldn’t register what it was seeing.

A bright light suddenly illuminated them both, but Janosh didn’t really think about where it was coming from, just that he was grateful that he could clearly see what the problem was with the gun.

Everything slowed as all the sounds and movements became sluggish, as if he was under water. It took a few moments for his brain to work it all out, but then it all clicked into place. The end of the gun was smoking, as if it had been fired, but he knew that hadn’t happen. The strange thing was that the part that was smoking was about 15 centimetres closer to his hand than it should have been. That explained why it was lighter, but didn’t explain the sticky syrupy feeling he’d also noticed. He looked a little closer at the grip, and saw that it was covered in a brown sticky substance. Another couple of blinks cleared his eyes fully and he traced the flow of the brown goo along his hand to its source, the point where his index and middle finger used to be. The fingers and the gun all ended at the same point, as if all had been severed in a perfect arc.

You foolish Human. K’nash walked over, still laughing, holding out the Kylapitar he’d found in his desk drawer on his ship. The limitation of this device is that it only transports anything that sits within its beam. Therefore, when you foolishly reached for the weapon, the ends of your fingers and half the gun went outside that range and you instantly chopped off two of your fingers.

Janosh’s reached the same conclusion at the same moment, and on seeing everything, the pain started to flood through his hand, sending it’s signals up his arm and finally to his brain. Aaarrrgghhhhh he screamed, not only in agony of the loss of his digits, but from the anger he felt at himself for not killing K’nash sooner.

Through the pain, Janosh tried to stand up and attack the Rexon leader, but as he did, he realised that the light that had been upon them was getting lower. He turned to see a small craft hovering only metres above the ground, and as it landed a guard climbed quickly out and ran over to them, his gun raised over his head, ready to swing down and knock the swaying human out.

Janosh tried to focus more clearly on the guard heading towards him, yet he found he was struggling to do so. He closed his eyes hard and threw his head from side to side to clear the deepening fuzziness that was there. Unfortunately, it was as if his brain was in a vat of oil, which now slushed slowly from side to side in his head, making him feel even dizzier. He opened his eyes just as the guard reached him. Janosh couldn’t fully see the guard, but as he brought the gun down to bear on his head, Janosh’s highly trained skills came to the fore.

He stepped quickly to his left, bending that knee to take him away from the impending blow. Pushing off with his right foot, he spun round in a full 360 arc. This created enough momentum to bring his now beam–like right leg across the front of the Rexon guard, sweeping him off his feet and onto his face, his skeletal nose cracking as it hit the floor. As soon as the guard fell, Janosh pushed up with his left leg, launching into the air like a spinning top. As he came back down towards the felled guard, he placed what was left of his left hand over his right fist, pushed his right elbow out and locked his hands into his chest. Everything was timed perfectly, as the point of the now solidly held elbow, with all of Janosh’s mass behind it, met with the back of the guard’s neck, snapping it like a dry twig, killing him.

Through the deepening haze he leapt up quickly onto his feet, knowing that there were probably more guards around. He was right, as he saw another 50 or more closing in, all had guns trained on him. As much as he was a trained fighting machine, Janosh also knew when to concede defeat and lowered his hands. His head and shoulders slumped and he blew a blast of air out of his nose, like a bull waiting to charge. Only this beast was going to bide its time.

K’nash held a hand up to the guards to stop them from firing, then walked over to Janosh, clapping. Most impressive for a human, you may yet become entertaining as well as useful. He commended the Ansolon Security Chief. It always astounds me that such a small feeble race can also be so clinical, so ruthless, and almost Rexon-like in their actions. He then turned to the nearest two guards. "Take him to the cell, let him cool off in there for a day or two." Janosh watched attentively as a low ranking Rexon officer walked through the crowd of soldiers and over to K’nash, whereby he proceeded to whisper something into the Supreme Commanders ear.

Janosh tried to hear, but as they were whispering in Rexon, it made it very difficult. He’d learnt enough to be able to carry out a basic investigation, but not to have a full conversation. He saw K’nash’s eyes light up, he looked at the device in his hand and said one sentence within which Janosh was able to pick out four key words.

Janosh let a faint smile cross his face as he walked away to his cell as he understood the words Kylapitar, children, here and gone.

Chapter 4. The Basics

So what are we going to do? Asked Skaler, deciding to sit upright.

Firstly Eric started, We need water, food and shelter. The weekends he’d spent camping with his Dad were becoming very useful.

Not wanting to be a complete dufus, Tom replied, But there’s a dirty great lake next to us, so I think the water part is sorted. And he smiled at Eric, proud of his involvement.

Tom, you will always be a dufus to me, as you’ve just proven. Eric said, partially removing Tom’s smile. But at least you’ve come up with a positive answer, thanks. This brought a glimmer back to Tom’s face.

Eric continued, There are also fish in the lake, and animals in these woods, as I’ve seen and heard them through the night. He looked warily at the group, although some of them are very big.

What, the fish? Tom asked.

No, the animals in the forest. Eric sighed. Some of them are like bears and leopards, the fire kept them away, so let’s be careful.

I also noticed, last evening whilst I scouted around the area, Ashton added, some plants that seemed to be like the vegetables and fruits on Ansolon.

Good, good. Eric said, mulling over the news. If you and Aisha go and get some fruit and vegetables. He turned to Skaler, Can you make traps and snares?

No problem, I had to do it all the time.

Great, and Tom and I will build some form of shelter and get more wood for the fire. He looked at the group around him again, and their faces all eagerly beamed back at him, keen to get started. Right, we all know what to do, so let’s get the day going.

As everyone headed off on their various tasks, Eric snorted a quiet laugh, having shown that he was acting as their leader, and seemed to be coping with the tasks so far.

How about where we’re based now? Asked Tom as they scoured the area for a camp base.

No can do, buddy, ‘cus if the Rexon beam in to the same point, then they’ll spot us instantly.

Fair point well made, my good friend. We’d better move a bit further in then. And Tom set off deeper into the forest, with Eric alongside. They’d walked for about 40 minutes up the mountainside when they came across an opportune find.

Eric, how about this? He turned excitedly to his friend.

They’d seen a few potential places on the way up. Small clearings, on relatively flat areas, but they’d carried on, just in case something better was found. Overall, they believed that they’d probably only gone about 2 kilometres away from their overnight camp, but from where Tom now stood looking back down to the lake, the view was spectacular.

Yet, the more impressive advantage to this location was currently behind Tom.

Piggin’ hell, that’s brilliant. Eric said as he arrived.

Before him was a cave. The opening was 3 metres tall by 4 metres wide, and even from outside, it looked reasonably deep, as any light was soon engulfed by the inky black depths.

Tom turned round to inspect the cave, I think she’ll make a nice home, once we get the carpets down and some new light fittings in, he joked as he headed for the entrance, I presume there’s an IKEA somewhere round here, and have you seen the state of that bathroom. Who on earth uses brown carpet tiles with a jade suite? Oh and that artex stuff on the ceiling is a devil to get off, but overall I think it’s a good fixer-upper prospect, what do you think?

Eric slowly shook his head and huffed a laugh as he followed Tom into the mouth of the cave, which was partially obscured by bushes.

This should give us a little cover and protection from the elements and more importantly, any prying eyes said Eric as he squeezed past the bushes.

Ow! cried Tom, as a thorn scratched his arm. Watch it, you just let that thing spring back at me. He lashed out with his foot, stamping sideways on the bush. The outer branches gave way, and his leg dropped through. His trouser leg caught and the now exposed lower limb was attacked by mor thorns. OW, OW, OW! He shouted as he slowly removed his leg from the lattice of spikes.

Tom crouched down to pull his pant leg down and inspect the countless rivulets of blood that now flowed. He set about plucking the thorns out one by one. He removed the first three and stopped, noticing something very interesting. There’s some tracks leading into here.

Eric came back over to inspect. I never thought about anything else being in here. He said as he looked down at the tracks then back towards the now menacingly dark cave. Presume it’s something about the size of a small dog, a fox maybe, looking at the size of the paw prints.

Yeah, but what if it’s a killer fox. Tom said with a slightly worried tone in his voice. What if there’s a whole pack of them and they’re all vicious zombie killer foxes who feed on humans, and that’s why there aren’t any humans left on this planet. He looked at Eric, We’ll be like a new feast for them and we’ll all be killed. Raising his hands to his face in mock horror.

Or maybe they’re quite timid and fluffy and cute foxy-woxes that will keep out of our way. Eric stuck a tongue firmly into his cheek, gave Tom a look of disdain, then looked again at the tracks.

I prefer mine, being brutally honest. Tom replied.

There seems to be only a few prints back and forth, so there’s probably only one or two.

Maybe it’s a lurve-shack Tom added, in a silly American voice.

Typical! Eric exclaimed, raising his eyes to the skies and puffing a blast of air out of his nostrils.

What? Tom said, as he stood up, his hands out to his sides, feigning innocence.

Typical of you, that’s what. Eric replied as he headed into the mouth of the cave. One minute you’re panicking over hordes of rabid beasts, and then in your next breath it’s a lurve-shack.

Gotta go with the flow, man. Tom stood up and followed Eric, swaying his hips from side to side in a Hawaiian style dance.

And you can pack that stupid dancing thing that you’re doing. Eric retorted, even though he was facing away from his friend.

How do you know I’m doing anything? Tom asked, still swaying about.

Because you always do that Hawaiian dance when you’ve used the word lurve in a sentence. Eric used the time to keep looking into the cave, and focus on letting his eyes adjust to the change in light levels as it went deeper in. He started to make out shapes. There’s more than one cave in here. He said.

Tom was now adding in a few pelvic thrusts and doing a wave action with his hands, oblivious to what was going on ahead of him, and he bumped straight into Eric.

Oi! exclaimed Eric, Watch where you’re going will you.

Sorry, just got a bit carried away. Tom replied. His eyes had also started to adjust. Wow, lots of caves, can we have one each. And he dashed off down into one. This one’s mine. He said, which echoed off the walls. Cool, ECHO! He shouted, listening to the word reverberate around the room. Eric, you’ve gotta try this, listen, ECHO!

I will, once we’ve got everyone agreed to the move and we’ve checked this place thoroughly. Eric replied.

Tom walked back into the entrance area. Who died and made you King? He said with a slightly shocked look on his face. You’ve become really boring Mate.

Eric looked at his friend, the anger of all the worries that had kept him awake the previous night rising within. Look, Mate. The name was called out harshly. It was you who died, you who was then turned into a Zombie, you who stole a Kylapitar, you who came back to Earth, you who gave it me, got me beamed to another planet, where I got mugged, arrested, and sneaked out of prison by the Security chief. He was counting each one on his fingers as he said them, and his voice was rising the more he said. I then got caught, escaped, was beamed to a starship, found you again, got caught again, imprisoned, lost a new friend, nearly got killed when we beamed to the wrong place, and finally ended up here. He took a couple of breaths. I then worried all night about what we’ve done, and how to sort it all out, and have now been seen by everyone as their leader, for whatever reason. And you wonder why I’ve become boring with all that going on. His chest was heaving from the effort he’d just put in.

When you put it like that, I suppose it’s true. Tom replied. And you did just make a cool ECHO! He smiled at his friend, and bowed as he proclaimed. All hail King Eric.

Eric’s hand wiped across his eyes, and started to laugh quietly.

Tom walked over, placed an arm across his best friends shoulders and joined in. And you’ll be a good King.

Chapter 5. Introductions.

Colonel Gordon Kelsall was lost in deep thought. Sitting facing away from his desk he contemplated the orders he’d been given the day before, and the mission that would his staff would have to take. He was now in his mid-50’s and had started to know that his tour of duty would soon be nearing its end. Having served his Queen and Country for over 30 years in many varied and well publicised wars, he’d latterly been the head of a special operations team that carried out the most secret of missions, and he was wondering how he’d cope with the quietness of retirement. The world had moved on around him, and he knew that his type of leadership was not going to be needed in the battles that they were about to become embroiled in. He picked an ornate brass watering can up and fed his small collection of plants that stood on the window ledge. Gordon nudged his chair closer to the window, crossing his feet and resting his heels on the top of the old-style roll-topped radiator, placed his hands behind his head and relaxed back into his sumptuous leather chair, as he felt the weariness of how futile his place in the universe actually was. He snorted a small ironic chuckle and then sighed at the drizzle that smeared the colours from his wonderful view of the distant Lakeland Mountains, standing proudly on the far side of Morecambe Bay. The power and glory of Mother Nature’s handiwork seemed so far removed from his office, within the green painted portakabins which sat on the top edge of the secret installation in a disused quarry near Nether Kellet. The base was used by the British arm of an elite force of worldwide Military Intelligence, which had been created by the G8 World Leaders. Gordon commanded the MI9 force, created to defend Earth from other world attacks.

His intercom squawk box crackled into life Major Jackson’s here now, sir. His mental wanderings were broken as he brought his feet down off the radiator and spun himself round in one fluid movement to face his desk. The strong and determined Commander of the Earth Defence Global Environmental Security reached across his regimented desk and pressed the call button Thank you Kerry, can you send him straight in please. He let go of the button, relaxed back into his very comfortable chair, pushed his current woes to one side and planted a carefree smile on his face.

There door was given a quick double tap before it opened.

Ian, welcome. Colonel Kelsall greeted the tall wiry man who entered his office in his nasally middle England accent. He waved an arm at the vacant leather chair on the far side of his desk. Have a seat and let’s get this party started.

Thank you sir. Major Ian Jackson responded formally.

Gordon please, there’s no time in this plan for being too formal, as you well know. He smiled at his best officer. And when you’re on whatever ground you’re going to, you will need to blend in and be a neat cohesive team.

Thank you, Gordon. He replied without any hesitation as he sat down, placing the stack of folders carefully on the desk between them.

So, who have you picked? Gordon asked, a knowing eyebrow rose as he waited for the answer.

If we’re being so informal, and without using rank…. He shuffled the 10cm stack of folders, splitting them into two piles with the dexterity of a dealer in a Las Vegas Casino. Then to start with, those are not required. He slapped his hand down on the larger pack that he’d placed to his left.

OK. Gordon eyed the larger pile inquisitively. Any surprises left in there?

Ian rolled his eyes around the top cover, knowing who was in that pile. All very good guys, but they’re not good enough, not for this mission. He thoughtfully bit his tongue, doing a final mental check of everyone.

Fine. Gordon replied. So, who have you brought in?

Firstly, Lanky.

No surprises there then.

Good at the details, fast response, good organiser. Ian picked up the top folder and placed it to his right as he spoke. He’s going to be my right hand man in this one.

Gordon nodded, knowing Captain Lancaster’s many accolades and exploits. The wry Yorkshire-man was a good and safe pair of hands on any type of mission. In very good physical shape for a man who had just crept into his 40’s, his uniquely cropped hair raised many quips from his underlings.

Next, Brock & Dicko. Two files swapped across. No need to explain why. Ian smiled.

Gordon shook his head in agreement to not needing an explanation, knowing that Ian’s two lieutenants would have been the first on the list. Brock was a hardened grafter. His skills at close hand combat were unrivalled as his other nickname was Dan-Dan, borne from the time when he was only a 2nd Dan in Karate. Brock had continued his studies and added 2 more Dan’s to his black belt collection, with newer recruits adding the nickname of Dan-four to his collection.

Most who ever came across Dicko out of her uniform would easily be drawn to a very attractive mid