Chronicles of Valinthia

By Daniel A. Roberts

A world where magic reigns finds itself at odds with a galaxy dominated by science. Between Galactopolis and the far-reaching Zarg Empire, this epic tale of Science Fiction butting heads with Fantasy will conjure your funny bone into the realms of the unimaginable.  

This is a complete trilogy under one cover, weighing in over a quarter of a million words.  Designed to entertain while introducing you to a unique brand of story telling, this wicked adventure won't be completed in just a few hours.

If you love epic Science Fiction & Fantasy that can tickle your funny bone, this is the novel for you!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Daniel A. Roberts
• Release date: Aug 28, 2015
• ISBN: 9781516397259

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Copyright & Disclaimer

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015, 2022 Daniel A. Roberts

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author, addressed Attention: Permissions at the email address: [e-mail]

Other Novels by Daniel A. Roberts

Paradise Project*

Darya Rising

Darya the Pirate

Darya: Queen of the Galaxy

Defenders of Valinthia

Rulers of Valinthia

Heroes of Valinthia

Chronicles of Valinthia**

*Paradise Project is another epic long saga which produced the spin-off Darya trilogy. 

**Chronicles of Valinthia is a combination of all three separate Valinthia novels under one cover, published separately.

Chapter One

AGENT FISHER WATCHED with emotional detachment as another service android scanned his identification card.  The square piece of plastic was firmly attached to the right breast pocket of his best business suit.  It didn't matter that his dark hair was combed back neatly, his dress shoes glistening under the space station's artificial lighting, or that his teeth were brushed pearly white.  If his credentials weren't correct two checkpoints ago, the cheerfully homicidal androids would have killed him by now. 

Humanoid, the metallic voice told him, as if he didn't know, this is a private auction.  Interstellar governments will be bidding.  All sales are final.  Payment remitted electronically the moment you win.  Failure to have sufficient funds means failure to leave alive.  Do you understand? 

Quite clearly.  He was completely unconcerned about the money aspect of the auction.  This wasn't the place to go if money might be a problem.  The brutal policy was never enforced because nobody was stupid enough to participate unless they were filthy rich to begin with. 

The doors are now unlocked to you.  Happy bidding.  Floating aside to let him through this last checkpoint, the two foot blinking mass of steel armored electronics deactivated its proton gun. 

As he entered the large auction floor, two dozen sets of eyes, optic sensors and photosensitive stalks turned his way to check out the new arrival.  This is where the major powers of the galaxy bid over new discoveries made by the central government, Galactopolis.  Used as a means to end costly wars over who controlled undiscovered planets, for centuries they saved massive resources and expense by auctioning them instead. 

It was a good deal all around.  Galactopolis would send their vast scouting fleets to explore the galaxy and place interesting discoveries up for bid.  Various space faring races no longer fought each other to the bitter end to claim a cheap planet that might not even replenish half of what it cost to wage the war.  Now the only expense was in galactic currency, and if won, the new owners could realize the full potential of their new world. 

If the planet was inhabited, the formula for a good profit would change.  The new owners could invade at their pleasure and take what they wanted by force.  If the inhabitants were in any way of an advanced culture, it could cost materials and lives to take physical ownership.  In some rare cases, such tactical maneuvers were too costly as the defenders developed a lucky new weapon of immense power, or engineered a virus that would kill off the invading forces while leaving local natives unharmed. 

Agent Fisher's job was in the profitability of such major purchases.  As one of the leading experts in the entire galaxy, he took his job as Profit Manager seriously.  His services weren't cheap and even some of the smaller intergalactic races couldn't afford his retainer fee.  Today he was representing one of the most successful governments in the known universe.  They even occupied one of the coveted seats on the ruling council inside the Galactopolis hierarchy.  His orders were simple from the Confederation of Allied Solar Systems.  Find a low to no tech planet with at least a billion inhabitants for slave labor.  They wanted an easy invasion for a nice profitable turn over. 

Not a problem with Agent Fisher on the job! 

The lights of the sales floor went slightly dimmer as the chime sounded.  The auction was about to start.  All the different races sat in a large circle, each member controlling a numerical bidding pad.  Agent Fisher entered his purchasing code and the system activated the pad for his own bids. 

A holographic planet appeared in the center of the room, an all tan surface with no water.  The electronic voice of the robotic auctioneer echoed throughout the chamber.  Minor minerals with a class B methane atmosphere.  No life forms detected.  No liquids on the surface.  No volcanic activity.  Bidding may start.

He sat back and didn't bother touching the pad.  Numbers appeared over the planet while various races did their best to claim it for themselves.  A methane atmosphere was good for energy production, but that was about it.  The values started to slow down as the reality closed in on the smaller sized governments.  If they paid too high a price, the planet wouldn't be worth processing for its meager resources.  A few minutes later, a locked in bid pulsed.  It flashed faster waiting for another bid.  It finally turned a solid red.  The funds of the bidder verified.  Sold. 

The image of another planet took its place.  Blue water, green landscape along with some patches of tan to indicate small desert regions.  Agent Fisher sat forward, eager.  The auctioneer finally spoke.  Life forms positive, early stages of evolution only.  Good for colonization, average in minerals with an oxygen based atmosphere.  High in carbon and nitrogen.  Rare minerals detected, trace amounts only.  Sixty percent of surface is water, mild volcanic activity.  Bidding may start. 

Damn it, Agent Fisher muttered.  Early stages of evolution only meant small animals at best.  No higher life forms would be thriving on the surface.  It was a pristine world that could be tailored to the needs of any race.  As expected, bids rolled in hot and heavy.  His client was specific.  The slave labor market on their side of the galaxy was booming and they wanted trainable product.  He didn't touch his pad.  Even though this world was highly profitable, he didn't earn his reputation for delivering planets that weren't exclusively asked for.  When the final bid locked in solid red, the price was impressive.  Still profitable to his experienced eye, but only by a close margin. 

The next planet that materialized on the auction floor made everyone sit forward.  The large red 'quarantine' label across it evaporated.  Another blue green world turned before them.  The robotic auctioneer was quick to explain.  Sealed for the last two years, this planet is bathed by an unknown light radiation from its blue star.  Galactopolis Science Division has declared the unknown energy emissions to be harmless after extensive study and testing.  The low energy signature does not emit beyond the local solar system.  Life forms positive, standard base humanoid population of two point six billion.  No electronic technology present, only stone, metal and carpentry detected from orbit.  Abundant in rare minerals.  Surface is forty five percent water.  All land masses are habitable.  The atmosphere is nitrogen rich with an oxygen equivalent ratio.  All other gases are at trace levels, low in carbon.  Bidding may start. 

This is the type of planet Agent Fisher patiently waited for, but he didn't snatch up the bidding pad to start typing in offers.  He knew better.  Let them price each other out first.  Then he would make his move.  Seal the deal in such a way that other foreign governments wouldn't try bleeding his account dry by micro-bidding his available funds away. 

The fact that a large base humanoid population existed made Agent Fisher giddy.  Like himself, humanoids were a popular design in evolution, though not the only variation.  Some evolved with four arms.  Others genetically developed more than two eyes.  Regardless of their specifics, primitive humanoids were easily trainable for slave labor.  The profits for his client would be enormous as the planet itself was incapable of resisting an invasion.  With no technology that could repel a serious landing, all resource expenses would be at a minimum. 

The numbers slowed to a crawl.  Twice that of the last pristine world, the numbers started to flash.  Agent Fisher entered his amount and selected to bid.  There, let that sink in.  He grinned when half the room gasped.  He doubled the price that was about to take it. 

Somebody countered with a small raise.  Pathetic.  Lesson time.  Agent Fisher typed in another amount, knew this would end any further numerical argument.  He doubled the price yet again.  A rare amount even for a pristine planet of that nature, but with what his client planned on doing, the price was highly worth it.  Nobody argued against his price anymore, just as he anticipated.  The numbers flashed.  Solid red.  The planet now belonged to his portfolio, paid in full. 

Agent Fisher got up to leave, ignoring the rest of the ongoing auction.  He opened the portable transmitter to his client.  I've got a planet for you that's even better than we expected to find.  The price was a little steep, but you'll more than quadruple your investment.  I'll be in your office by eight in the morning, standard galactic time to draw up the invasion contract.  See you then.  Feeling really good about this purchase, he closed the channel.  Once his client took a good look at the numbers, his fame would soar even higher.  So would his retainer fee, which is why he loved his job. 

Chapter Two

ARIELLA MISTHAVEN TUGGED GENTLY at her white silk robe, the golden cord around her hourglass waist felt a little too tight.  She focused her mind and touched the material with her will.  Lovely sapphire blue eyes flickered with an inner light just for a moment.  The belt was finally comfortable.  Her long blonde hair was tied back by a small gold cord.  It moved slightly without her touching it.  The angle of her flowing pony tail changed, appearing a bit more comfortable.  Adjustment spells are easy, she told the class of fascinated teenagers.  You visualize what you want, focus the results in your mind.  You actually will it to happen.  As you know, everyone is born with the ability to use magic.  The only difference between us is how strong you are in using it.  Does anyone here recall the second tenet of magical talent? 

Ro'Veen Fingers, a wild dark haired young man who long held a crush on his teacher couldn't help himself.  Besides being one of the best pick pockets and escape artists in the five realms, his ability to act out melodramatically won him many classroom fans.  His hand shot up immediately, exertion on his face proving that he was working hard to get her attention.  He happily sat at the head of the class no more than ten feet from his teacher just for moments such as this one.  I do!  Pick me Miss Ariella, pick me! 

Don't be shy, Ariella suggested to the rest of the class, ignoring Ro'Veen for now.  He always knew the answers, loved getting her attention a bit too much for her comfort.  I know it's been awhile since you heard the tenets, but this is the reason why they're so important.  Please, anyone?

Ro'Veen almost made his desk jerk forward with his hand being thrust up so hard.  Right here Miss Ariella!  I know it!  Right here! 

She sighed, gesturing to Ro'Veen at last.  Mr. Fingers may answer the question now. 

He sprang to his feet and faced the class of twenty teenagers.  None of them offered to answer because they loved his theatrics.  The second tenet of magical talent!  Written by the ancient, famous and most powerful of all sorcerers ever, Stazrantalok the Mighty!  His strong face grew even more dramatic.  When the essence of new life forms, magic is imbued upon the body and spirit!  Some may get a lot...  He gestured to Ariella with a flourish.  Some may get only a pittance...  He gestured to himself and widened his eyes in self pity.  All can and will use magic according to their own strength and inner talent!  He spread his arms wide and gazed at the classroom ceiling for a moment, then flourished a deep bow to indicate he was done.  The classroom applause was gentle, supportive. 

Thank you, Mr. Fingers, Ariella announced, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her tone.  She waited for him to sit back down before continuing.  As always, well intended performance aside, Ro'Veen is correct.  There's no telling just how much or little we can do until we come of age.  The moment when a man's voice grows lower.  When women develop their curves.  That's when the first stages of magical influence flare into existence.  Just what type of magic we can do as individuals vary.  Just as much as we look different from each other, our individual powers can also differ.  I'm a healer, as an example.  Others might be destructive.  Some can conjure, others transmute materials.  Finding out what you can do is difficult at first.  Most of you have already discovered your talents.  A minor few have not, but you will by this time next year. 

Her lecture was interrupted by a speeding pixie.  She buzzed into the classroom through a high hole in the wall at an amazing velocity, flashed a brilliant white display.  Zipping out the other side through another hole without pausing, which of course led to another classroom where the school pixie repeated the performance, their small pixie forms allowed for a significant amount of agility.  That was the standard signal for letting everyone know that school was out for the day.  The eight inch high woman with wings only took fifty seconds to buzz the entire two story building.  Such was the speed of pixie folk. 

Class dismissed, Ariella gratefully announced, went to her desk and plopped down into the wooden chair.  All of her students except one streamed out the door.  Ro'Veen didn't move from his seat, resting his head on two fists, a dreamy look in his brown eyes.  His happy smile didn't leave his face as he waited for the expected reaction.  That means you too, Mr. Fingers. 

You're so pretty, he complimented her.  In two days I turn eighteen, can we go out to celebrate after the party?

Ariella opened her grade book, not bothering to look at him as she replied with a stern tone, My primary power may be healing, Mr. Fingers, but my minor powers can still make you leave out the window over there, head first. 

Whoa, class is over! Ro'Veen exclaimed as if suddenly realizing what time it was.  See you tomorrow, Miss Ariella!  He quickly left, almost bumping into Jasra Songweaver.  The Bard was the school's music teacher who quickly stepped aside to let the young man rush out of the classroom.  She slowly shook her head while his dwindling footsteps echoed down the hallway. 

What are you going to do about his crush?  Jasra watched Ariella sigh with indecision, grew concerned for her best friend.  Want me to talk with his parents?

Ariella slowly shook her head.  If it was that simple, this would have been dealt with by now.  Poor kid, he has it bad for me.  I've dealt with crushes before, but he's one insistent young man.  She closed the large grade book after making a final conduct score on the student they were discussing, changing the subject on purpose.  So, any new prospects for the Bard profession?

I'm afraid not, Jasra admitted with only mild regret.  All mundane music users so far.  Don't get me wrong, they're pretty good.  Some are almost as masterful as I.  Unfortunately, not a single soul can influence magic with their melody making.  Maybe next year I'll get a promising Bard or two under my banner. 

Xarduvik Vandicar stepped into the classroom, the principal of the school was an aged fellow who wore a typical robe that belonged to the Wizards of the Seeking Flame.  His fatherly smile warmed both women clean through as he happily greeted them.  My two favorite teachers in one spot.  Excellent.  I won't have to repeat myself.  You both know all too well how wizards really hate repeating themselves.

That we do, Ariella agreed, giggling.  She liked the aged wizard because he had the old world charm of her departed grandfather.  Always kind with a twist of mild humor, the power he commanded was nothing short of phenomenal.  What's on your mind, Xarduvik?

Tomorrow morning I'm going to wake up Vorigar Scalekeeper so he can pay a visit to the school, he calmly announced, as if it was no big deal.  The children would probably love to ask some questions after his speech.  Xarduvik recognized the look of utter shock on their faces, raising his wrinkled hand to calm them.  Now now, don't be concerned.  This is planned, the sleeping dragon expects my arrival with an awakening spell.  We worked it out last year before he decided to get some beauty sleep. 

Jasra was more than well versed in dragon folk, her immediate concern was valid.  It's too early to wake any dragon, no matter the reason.  Are you feeling ill, Mr. Vandicar?  He needs a minimum of two years.  What if he wakes too sleepy headed and decides quite by accident that you're his breakfast? 

He'll be wide awake, Xarduvik promised with a sly smile.  When I put him to bed last winter, I had twenty gallons of my best mental regeneration potion poured down his gullet.  He's getting triple the recuperative rest in only half the time.  No grouchy dragons are allowed near my students, I tell you. 

Jasra nearly shouted at the old wizard.  You gave him what?  How can you do that to your students?  You know damn well the side effects of that raunchy potion will...  her words got muffled.  Ariella clamped a hand over her mouth with an apologetic smile on her pretty lips. 

I'm sorry, Xarduvik, Ariella intoned politely, but we have to go now.  There's so much we girls have got to do before Vorigar speaks to the kids, right Jasra?  So much to do?  The Bard stopped struggling in her efforts to cuss out the crazy old man, partially grateful the healer didn't let her temper flare out of control.  Still, the old wizard was nuts to use that stuff on a dragon.  Absolutely nuts!

Glad you see it my way, Ariella, Xarduvik preened, stroking his short white beard.  Ah, if I was two hundred and thirty years younger, you would be in quite a bit of trouble by taking my side with such a pretty face. 

You're very flattering, Ariella acknowledged, keeping her pretty face as he liked to see it – sweetly passive – as she pulled Jasra out of the classroom with her.  She didn't remove her hand until they were in the hall, moving well out of earshot.  Sorry about that, we needed to get away quick.  We only have until tomorrow before sunrise to deal with that poor dragon.

Jasra grumbled but ended up agreeing with her best friend.  I know, sorry I almost lost my temper.  He must be going soft in the head to think up something like this.  She followed Ariella out of the nearly empty school.  I'll meet you back at your place?  I need to get the superior herbs from my studio. 

You bet, see you soon.  Ariella tried not to shiver.  Vorigar was going to speak to the kids tomorrow of all the damned things, with one of Xarduvik's crazy potions rumbling in his gut.  What if he accidentally kills every living thing within a half mile of the bad reaction?  Then what? 

Jasra knew she was on short time, pausing in the middle of the schoolyard as Ariella's back grew distant.  She opened her mouth and started to sing.  It was a wordless song, the only important fabric of her Bardic travel magic was the melody.  Ghostly music notes with the quality of faint moonlight started flowing around her long elegant legs.  She took a single step while ending the song on a sweet crescendo.  She was inside her studio, thirty miles to the west of where she stood only a few moments ago. 

Jasra quickly went to her apothecary shelf and grabbed several jars of incense, sweet clover and powdered rosebuds.  She spied other important alchemical components and took the time to gather them up as well.  Arms fully loaded, she knew with a grin she would beat Ariella back to the healer's own house. 

She sighed and focused, keeping her mind serious.  Her travel song flowed from her lips again, if they didn't get the right amount of counter agents, chances were high all of their students would be forever carrying the aftermath of Vorigar's speech to an early grave. 

Ariella knew Jasra would be waiting for her when she arrived.  The Bard's tight curly black hair and suave creamy skin was easy to pick out among the greenery that surrounded her home's frame.  The armload of bottles and jars looked heavy, so she grabbed a few off the top to offer a bit of relief. 

Thank you. Jasra's smooth contralto always brought a touch of envy to Ariella.  Her own soprano felt so plain when compared to the singer's magical voice. 

It's only a few things, Ariella said, easily waving aside the thanks.  They had much bigger concerns come morning.  She opened her door and they went inside.  Put everything down in the kitchen, I might not have enough rhubarb extract.  Pray that we do or we might have to fake out the kids.  You know, tell them the event is across town or something. 

Jasra frowned as she considered the other aspect of their new problem.  How are we supposed to get this inside Vorigar?  I really can't see feeding a cow this stuff and offering it for breakfast.  He'll probably eat just as he wakes up.  He wouldn't be hungry anymore.

Oh, I don't know for sure yet, Ariella growled, her anger finally settling in as she pulled down several pots from her cupboards.  I suppose I could brew up a large wizard hat shaped suppository, tie it to Xarduvik's head and shove him up the dragon's butt for thinking this scheme up. 

She had said it so plainly that it took Jasra a moment to realize her friend wasn't really serious.  The Bard exhaled with wide eyes, never imagining the normally calm healer could think so evilly.  Ariella, even for you that's a little dark. 

I'm sorry, she conceded, pausing to get her feelings under control.  This is his what, Xar's third big blunder this year?  Only this one can turn deadly.  What are we going to do with him?  He should know better, dragons don't follow our alchemy recipes.  Poor Vorigar won't even see this coming.  We need to get ready, fix his problem and then...  She paused, inhaled to further control her voice.  We need to sit down and have a long talk with dear old Xarduvik.  She gestured to the table of containers and jars.  Pass me the bitter mint please?  I'll find a way to get the dragon to eat the cure.  We need to start brewing five minutes ago if we're to have it done in time.

Jasra went through the various selections, locating and passing the ingredient to her friend, knowing the whole jar was going into the pot.  Her hazel eyes lit up with an idea as she reached for the frog eye extract.  Ariella, I got it!  Dragon nip!  I passed a whole field of the stuff just two days ago, I could get a bushel!  We could tell Vorigar it's a breath mint for coming to speak to the kids!  And it wouldn't be a total lie, either! 

Perfect!  Ariella almost started laughing, checked herself.  Better make it a bushel and a half, you know how much dragons hate the taste of sugar.  I'm going to have to use a considerable amount. 

Jasra started humming her travel song, keeping the field of dragon nip sharp in her mind.  As the ghostly music notes appeared around her legs, she prayed they could get it into Vorigar's stomach before he started to belch uncontrollably.  Such was the penalty for using a mental regeneration potion.  For humans it was bad enough.  Coming out of a dragon who exhaled clouds of potent acid as a breath weapon, it would be a disaster! 

Chapter Three

THE NEWLY PROMOTED Invasion Leader introduced himself.  I'm Roger Stevens, you must be Agent Fisher.  His hand extended and they shook.  "Welcome aboard the Infinity, the finest warship of the 207th fleet." 

It's a pleasure to be here, Agent Fisher assured him.  These are the new models, aren't they? 

Damned right, he replied with a smile.  This landing deck alone has fifty ports for shuttles.  Below us are four more decks, capable of launching and receiving midsized to extra large transports in high volume.  Fifteen thousand troops per invasion vessel, not counting the crew of fifteen hundred.  Unlike the previous model, this one is two miles longer.  That's a total of seven miles by one mile of storage.  I think we'll fit your needs just fine. 

That depends on the size of your fleet, Agent Fisher said cautiously.  We have two billion humanoids to move, we want minimum losses while in transit.  No crowding up, if you know what I mean.

Roger batted at the air as if shooing away an annoying bug.  Two billion isn't a problem, I've got two thousand waiting on standby with another thousand coming out of the shipyards in just a week.  I see the painful look on your face.  Come along, there's something I want to show you. 

Agent Fisher reluctantly followed.  As they went into an elevator, he sighed.  Only three thousand?  We want to move them as soon as possible, not make round trips over a long period of time. 

We have an advantage.  Roger worked hard to sell his fleet, they needed this easy job.  You could go and hire fifty Ark Class Carriers and get them all in two trips, but they have a loss ratio of ten to fifteen percent in transit.  That many captive sentient beings on one ship causes problems, you know that.  The elevator slid open.  Miles of open floor stretched out before them.  The metal deck plates looked glossy.  This here is our newest feature.

What's so special about this? Agent Fisher almost laughed in his face.  He'd seen his fair share of slave storage before, this wasn't much different in appearance. 

The deck plates are set to stun, Roger explained, grinning big.  Any of them gets rowdy, causes a stir, form a resistance to authority, whatever they do won't save them from a good solid stun.  He gestured to the dozens of crew members walking the floors below their observation balcony.  Some of them carried clipboards, others were making sure the new facilities for water and waste management didn't need any maintenance.  Say those folks down there are about to riot, that could cost you what, hundreds of trainable slaves?  The guards would have to kill some to put down an insurrection.  Right over here, I press this switch.  Viola, instant pacification. 

Roger uncapped a button on the wall with a warning flag attached to it.  The moment he depressed it, the entire work crew slid to the floor.  The Invasion Leader continued his sales speech as if it was no big deal to stun his work crew.  From our side of the pens to the other side of the ship, they're all connected.  They'll wake after three hours.  Troublemakers are removed while they're out cold and isolated into a brig.  When the slave pen population wakes up, if they get stupid again, another round of nap time is just a press away.  They'll learn right quick to behave the entire trip.  Anyone in the crew can access this feature.  Minimum losses?  How about near zero losses.  Your profit per slave would skyrocket.  We only charge half of what the bigger fleets demand.  Sure it takes a little longer to move them, but hey, it's the best investment around. 

That's ingenious, Agent Fisher muttered, then a little louder, I can see your point Mr. Stevens.  You almost have me convinced.  He faced the tall stocky Invasion Leader, who unlike himself, had a soldier's physical build.  I know you have our target information, they're not really capable of resisting an advanced assault.  Oh, I expect some to pick up swords or knives, maybe even shoot an arrow or two if they have such things.  What guarantee do I have your men won't target practice at my expense?  Every dead humanoid from that planet cuts into my client's profit, which cuts into my reputation.  If your guys get too rowdy or stupid, I could lose more than a contract here. 

That answer is on level three of our battle bridge.  Roger walked into the elevator.  Agent Fisher eagerly joined him.  My outfit is doing this right, we're going to set a new business model for planetary conquest.  Yes, I looked over that report from your high orbit scan.  The savages on that planet are pushovers.  What you see next will ensure your profits. 

The elevator door slid open to reveal a stadium sized monitoring room.  Thousands of powered down eight foot by eight foot monitors surrounded the large area.  Thousands of empty desks with their own much smaller computer interfaces were waiting for use.  Roger spread his arms to encompass the center as he walked, an impressed Agent Fisher hot on his heels. 

This is our pride and joy, he gloated, knowing the Profit Manager hadn't seen anything like this before.  During every mission we'll record digital media from every soldier's built in battle camera and microphone.  All the data is turned over to you after delivery of the slaves is complete.  For every termination you find unnecessary, you may deduct the market price of that slave from our fee.  That's part of our new profit protection plan. 

Now this has my full attention, Agent Fisher confessed.  Does this include first wave and initial invasion, or just pickup and transportation? 

We include all contact with the targets.  Roger couldn't stop smiling, knew he was winning this much needed contract.  First wave?  Better!  We'll cover the initial scout landing where we locate the best places for the first wave to drop.  Our men are completely trained in capture and detainment.  They're not a bunch of interstellar hicks looking to blast aliens for senseless fun.  We're as professional as they come. 

Agent Fisher started to rub his hands together, his palms were itching.  That was a good sign in his instinct department.  He only vocalized one more concern.  What about your translation protocols?  Do you have sixth generation linguistics chips or higher?  I would really hate for all this to be a no go because you can't understand what the slaves are saying to each other.  Or get a bad translation and have your men kill someone who is merely asking for water. 

We carry top of the line series ten chips in our heads, Roger replied, feeling the victory rush in his metabolism.  Give us full access to your sample audio scans and our computers will do the rest.  They'll understand us and we'll understand them.  There will be no unauthorized copies made either, I can promise you that here and now.  My security chief has the habit of shooting staff if they break our protocols. 

Agent Fisher found himself nodding, unable to see any reason to go somewhere else.  I guess we have a contract.  How soon can you start? 

Roger couldn't keep the twisted grin from forming on his lips.  How soon can you get us the paperwork and linguistics files?  We'll be pulling out of space dock before we ink the papers, Agent Fisher.  We're a hungry outfit, we need this business model to succeed.  If the planet we're about to hit was any softer, you wouldn't even need soldiers.  Old ladies in wheelchairs armed with rusty ion blasters could go down there and grab that population. 

My briefcase is still on my shuttle.  Soon as we get to your office and sign, it's a go.  Agent Fisher felt giddy as he followed the Invasion Leader back to the elevator.  If this fleet lived up to its hype, he would elevate their priority level on his business contact list.  It was a good thing his standard contractor was too busy to take on a new assignment.  He would have never found the 207th and their new business model.  Feeling like the luckiest Profit Manager in the entire universe, he couldn't wait to get the 207th fleet moving! 

Chapter Four

VORIGAR SCALEKEEPER LOWERED his head so he could better see the gift Ariella brought for him.  The sun wasn't fully up yet and he never ate anything he couldn't get a good look at.  She and the Bard Jasra stood on top of the two story school building, a sign of respect towards the dragon as he didn't have to debase himself by lowering his head to the ground.  You two look sleepy, the dragon observed candidly.  He kept his speech to a whisper, which was loud to the people before him.  They didn't wince at the volume, making his respect for these two go up another notch. 

Ariella smiled brightly while gesturing to the half full barrel of slush.  We were up most of the night making it for you, as our thanks for coming to speak to the kids, she half fibbed.  Xarduvik didn't tell us you were coming until late last afternoon.  Please, brave dragon, enjoy your breath mint?  If it's not tasty, I could always brew another one by tomorrow.

I should be offended, Vorigar mused mildly, because a breath mint implies I have bad breath.  Somehow you two make this seem like a nice thing.  He sniffed, caught the scent of dragon nip.  It does smell terribly good.  Yet I hesitate.  Why is that? 

I don't know, Jasra politely replied, smiling up at the dragon from behind a tired face.  She stirred all night to make sure the cure didn't congeal prematurely.  We normally give an apple to speakers as a thank you, but we know such a tiny thing has no interest for dragons.  You just woke up from your slumber, we assumed you had breakfast right away.  So what better gift than a breath mint?  We don't know what animals you gobbled up.  With this gift, we won't need to find out the hard way. 

Vorigar smiled while stretching his wings out.  It was the dragon equivalent of a yawn.  Once he was done, he focused on the barrel with a little more interest.  Ah yes, I can understand your concern there.  I consumed a herd of wild bison, they do smell terrible to you small folk before they're chewed up and swallowed.  In the interest of your sense of smell and kindness for making this, I'll eat it.  If it tastes bad though, he cocked his massive head and issued his joke, I could always munch down a little bard and healer to mask any bitterness.  He hissed out a long dragon laugh.

Both women politely laughed with him, sharing the context of the silly joke though they didn't care for it too much.  Nobody really understood dragon humor, they found some of the oddest things funny.  Like a frightened human.  Nothing made a dragon laugh harder when a woman or man jumped with fright, or screaming in terror.  In days of old before the five realms united, dragons would hide in lakes or caves to pop out at travelers, just to laugh for hours over the reaction they witnessed. 

Without further hesitation, his serpentine tongue languished outwards, wrapping around the barrel with a wet thwack.  The contents sloshed as he drew them into his mouth and closed his leathery lips.  Large orange eyes with fist sized pupils looked up and to the side as the crunching of wood could be heard.  Hmm, he uttered without opening his snout, gauging the flavor.  Mm hmm. 

Relief spread through Ariella and Jasra.  The disguised belching cure would prevent any accidental discharge that could melt his audience to death.  Especially since the original potion Xarduvik used never failed to create uncontrollable belching mere hours after waking up.  The last thing they wanted to do was tell the dragon the truth, he would have been upset at the old wizard for forgetting that detail.  Enough so that it could end their friendship, which was something neither teacher wanted to see happen.  Then again, they didn't want their students dissolved by an acid mist. 

Surprisingly minty, Vorigar told them both with genuine friendship in his dragon's whisper.  You've impressed me, your gift was well made.  Tell me, how does my breath smell?  He opened his huge mouth, revealing two foot spiked teeth in frightening long rows.  Near the back of his throat, a bison's leg dropped from the top tooth and bounced on the leathery tongue. 

The warm waft of cloying air from the dragon's mouth was almost enough to make both women vomit.  Fighting their instincts on all levels, they chorused their positive remarks at the same time.  Oh yes!  Much better!  That's a great smell for a dragon! 

Excellent, thank you, Vorigar expressed himself with a weird sound of happiness.  He spread his scales up and down his back with a clinking sound; a dragon's gesture for exhilaration.  The dragon nip was a little high in concentration, but shouldn't do him any more harm than a brief high.  Ah, are those the students I sense approaching?

The teachers didn't have to answer his question, teenagers were streaming towards the school from almost every direction when they glanced over the edge of the roof.  Xarduvik walked out of the two story school and into the game field, performing an elaborate gesture from the conjuring discipline.  Four rows of one hundred wooden chairs popped into existence.  Such a flashy spell was prepared well in advance.  For one of the old wizard's skill, it was also easily accomplished. 

All of the students made for the chairs to have a seat, knowing what was in store for them that morning.  The old wizard magically transmitted the event to their parents' homes last night while Ariella and Jasra labored to save the day.  Most of the young adults whispered excitedly, they could see the dragon resting by the school, watching their approach with an amused expression on his scale crusted face.  Ariella and Jasra decided to stay on the roof top to listen to the dragon's prepared speech. 

Other teachers were arriving early to make sure the younger students behaved themselves.  One of their newer faculty members was having a time of it due to his smaller size.  The gnome was a combustion artist extraordinaire whose name fit his primary magical talent.  Tinybomb Bigblast hopped from one foot to the next, pointing at a few students who didn't sit down as quickly as he liked.  Park your butts in those chairs or get them singed, he warned, bright yellow robes flapping in the wind. 

Just as everyone got settled, Vorigar carefully stepped forward to face his new audience head on.  The ground shook with each of his clawed steps.  A long serpentine neck and deep orange eyes spread a natural amount of intimidation among the students.  Some in the front row looked like they were about to bolt.  Xarduvik raised both hands in a calming gesture, assuring them it would be just fine. 

I'm known as Vorigar Scalekeeper, it's a pleasure to educate you this morning on dragon folk and our origins.  He lowered his head slightly to his young audience, they were quickly enraptured and the dragon loved the attention.  I'm whispering to you in case you didn't know, so you won't go deaf from my natural volume.  Whatever tales you heard from your parents, we do not eat human children.  So please, feel free to misbehave after I go home. 

A ripple of laughter flowed from the teens.  Vorigar beamed his pleasure.  He continued his speech, I'm young for a dragon, only twenty thousand two hundred and seventy-one years old.  We have three great cities deep underground.  The only time the gates are shut against visitors is when we are sleeping.  Dragons are awake for five years, then we tend to sleep for two years.  Because Xarduvik made me a special potion, I'm well rested and before you an entire year early. 

Now it was Xarduvik who beamed.  Ariella and Jasra both wished they had a bucket of water.  Sloshing him from their perch atop the school building would have been just compensation for his careless actions.  In fact, Ariella was looking forward to the lecture she would deliver to the old man as soon as the dragon left. 

Vorigar used the tip of his long tail to point at himself as he continued talking.  We were the first to walk the ground of Valinthia, our lovely world.  Next came the pixies, followed by the gnomes and changelings.  Humans started to appear around fifteen thousand years ago.  For a young race, you're very adept at learning.  That's an excellent quality.  However, there is one thing about dragons that you may find disturbing.  He stopped talking, cocking his head while peering ominously at his audience.  His mental voice was loud in their minds, there wasn't any doubt that this was telegraphed to them.  >>All dragons have a high level of psionics.  What you hear is mind-speak.  It's not commonly used to talk with you because most humans do not have the ability to respond with their own minds.<<

The awed sounds from the seated students flowed over Vorigar, making him flush with pride.  He returned to his verbal whispering.  We can mind speak with a single person, or to a crowd, as I did with you.  Dragons are highly resistant to magic.  That doesn't mean we can't use it.  The only person who ever survived a sorcerer's duel with a dragon was none other than the legendary Stazrantalok.  He has so much power imbued into him naturally, he is immortal like we dragons.  The battle was a stalemate, fought over a disagreement over how much milk was to go into tea, I believe.  It raged for an entire year before a draw was called.  To this day, Stazrantalok resides on his own mountain top half a world away.  He won't come down again, he says, until there's a challenge worthy of his time. 

A hand shot up in the back.  Vorigar granted permission with a happy nod.  A young woman with flowing brown hair stood, looking nervous.  Mr. Scalekeeper, was it you who dueled Stazrantalok?  She sat back down, thrilled from being the first to ask a question. 

My my, no, Vorigar hissed back, amused.  He cleared his long throat for a moment.  The fight was with our dragon king, Bantaloz Razorclaw.  Unlike most dragons who use acid or fire as a breath weapon, he exhales lightning.  A very powerful clan of dragon, I might add.  If there was... Vorigar paused, his large orange eyes widening for a moment.  Several loud popping sounds erupted from under the base of his tail.  He swiveled his large head to look behind himself.  Goodness, is there a barking human behind me? 

A little more than half the students politely laughed, thinking this was a pretty good joke coming from a dragon.  Nobody realized that Vorigar was truly puzzled.  Let me see, the dragon resumed, leaving the issue of what just happened alone.  Where was I?  Oh yes.  If there ever was a clan of dragons more powerful than...  He paused again, this time knowing for a fact where the sound was coming from.  Another line of popping sounds issues from under his tail.  Oh dear me, how embarrassing.  This never happened before. 

Ariella and Jasra gave each other a quick glance, realizing their cure for the belching was probably at fault.  Better out of that end than a streaming mist of killing acid from his stomach.  They both headed for the roof hatch, intent on getting downstairs in case the students got out of hand. 

Xarduvik instantly felt guilty, as well he should.  He remembered at last the common side effect of his mental regeneration potion.  Since he had no idea the dragon was fed the belching cure, he assumed this was due to the differences in a dragon's metabolism.  My friend, this is my fault, quite by accident, the old wizard said up at the dragon.  It should stop after a few hours, but let me make you an antidote, please. 

Your potion did this! Vorigar exclaimed, his unhappiness making the accusation almost a roar.  Why didn't you warn me?  I would have spoken with your students tomorrow, or the day after!  Another peeling line of minor explosions emitted from under his tail, making the dragon wince in embarrassment.  He went to apologize to the students, but the wind shifted before he could utter the words.

A young man stood up in the front row, eyes watering from the horrific thick stench that invaded all of his senses.  He screamed his warning to the student body, Dragon fart!  Run for it! 

Mayhem ensued. 

Four hundred students took off in a panic.  Streaming out across the field away from the dragon, the invisible scent from the depths of Vorigar's digestive track stalked them.  Some only got a dozen feet away when the stench overtook their senses.  Dropping to their knees and clutching their stomachs, they ended up vomiting their breakfast.  Even the teachers were affected.  As a gnome, Tinybomb Bigblast got the worst of it as he was much closer to the ground.  His large blue eyes rolled up.  With his silky white hair sticking straight up, he passed out with a thump to the ground.

Vorigar's growl of anger was aimed directly at Xarduvik.  Bad wizard!  You've embarrassed me something fierce.  I won't be forgetting this anytime soon.  With that dire comment, the dragon flapped his wings while jumping into the air.  The rapid flow of wind from his huge wingspan helped clear the air around the school, which was starting to make Xarduvik's own eyes water.  As the displeased dragon flapped away, another powerful fart could be heard dwindling in the distance. 

Oh my, Xarduvik lamented.  How in the world am I going to make up for this disaster?

You can start by having a little chat with us, Jasra scolded him from the school's entrance.  Ariella nodded while standing next to her friend.  This could have been much worse you know, so you better get those old bones in here.  We saved lives today, buster.  She crooked her index finger at him. 

Xarduvik hung his head, his wizard's hat drooping along with his mood.  He shuffled towards the doorway, knowing deep down inside that whatever he was going to hear, he deserved every scathing word.  For the first time in almost three hundred years, the Wizard of the Seeking Flame finally felt his age. 

Chapter Five

CAPTAIN ROY SMITH OF the battleship Dark Nova activated the hyperwave channel to establish a link.  He entered the identity codes for Invasion Leader Roger Stevens and Agent Fisher.  When both men appeared on the center view screen of his battle bridge, he stood to address them with military precision.  Gentlemen, we're arriving at the designated planet now.  According to my time line, I have twenty-nine hours to set up the first landing zone.  The rest of the 207th fleet will arrive to launch our first wave.  We will be rounding up the savages for deportation in less than two days.  Do I have a go? 

You have a go, Roger acknowledged.  Agent Fisher has authorized all tactics, but remain cautious.  Don't be shooting too many primitives on the scouting mission.  Every breathing sentient is an addition to our bonus pay. 

Affirmative, Roy acknowledged with a quick nod.  His fingers tapped instructions into his command panel as the view screen went blank.  A blue green planet materialized on the main deck's monitor screen, a jumbo wall sized representation that framed the entire world below them.  Ensign Johnson, scan for a landing point. 

Yes sir, Johnson crisply replied, switching on his console monitor to zoom in on the surface below.  When it came to scanning for a strategic location, it was an important job that needed to be done right.  It also was required to be double checked by his partner, Ensign Rawson.  He liked the pretty blonde who walked over to his station, peering down over his shoulder.  He remained professional, he didn't dare tell her how nice she smelled.  The deck officer was renowned for giving a vicious slap for on the job flirting.  He adjusted the controls for a sharper image.

XARDUVIK TRUDGED SLOWLY out of the school building, his wrinkled ears hot from his own levels of deep embarrassment.  Both of his favorite teachers worked furiously to cover his mistake with the dragon.  They kept the students safe from an acidic belch attack that he would have been responsible for.  Both were right to have scolded him so angrily; he deserved every blistering word.  How could he have forgotten such an important detail? 

He started out for his home only a few miles down the road when he felt it.  The old wizard paused, glancing back at the school.  No, neither teacher was glaring at him out of a doorway or window.  So why did he feel like he was being watched with hostile intent?  He closed his eyes for a moment and ordered his thoughts to seek the intruding gaze.  The compulsion to look up came strong.  Lifting his eyes to the clear blue sky, he could almost see the invisible waves streaming down at him.  How curious!  He refused to stop staring in that spot, trying with difficulty to reason the odd sensation.

WILL YOU LOOK AT THAT, Johnson marveled out loud, tapping his finger at the image of the old man on his screen.  That geezer right there, the one with the funny clothes and pointy hat.  Is it me or is he staring right into my scanning camera? 

Rawson furrowed her brow.  He can't see you, dummy.  It's just a coincidence.  She didn't look away even as she denounced the crazy issue.  Cocking her head with mild curiosity of her own, she made a quick suggestion.  Focus in on his face, he's probably looking at a bird or something. 

XARDUVIK WANTED TO frown.  He felt a cold anger building in his gut.  His senses prickled.  The mess up with poor Vorigar was bad enough, now another issue was eluding his notice?  He started grinding his teeth, that small section of the sky grew more intense.  He could almost envision a set of cold invisible eyes.  A tiny speck caught his attention, rippling in his mind's eye.  He focused on it hard, willing his powers to identify the source. 

JUST AS ENSIGN JOHNSON got a sharp image of the old man's upturned face, those piercing old eyes locked gazes with startling accuracy.  No shit, the officer exclaimed, he's looking right into my damned face. 

You're just imagining it, Rawson quickly dismissed the issue, sounding just as troubled as her partner did.  Move over to the side a bit, you'll see it's nothing. 

Ensign Johnson gladly tested the theory, shifting left while regarding the screen from a sharper angle.  When the old man's eyes followed his gaze with creepy accuracy, chills went pouring in waves down his back.  Ah crap, his eyes are freaking following me!  He moved his head again, the old man's eyes refocused, following Johnson's face as if he stood before him. 

Captain Smith made them both jump with his stern lecture from behind.  What in the hell are you two doing?  Did I order you to study the natives?  Find a landing spot for our scouts or find a new job!  Believe me when I tell you that your unemployment line starts right over there in the airlock! 

But...I... Ensign Johnson started to say, got cut off by Ensign Rawson as she moved the scanning camera with her finger on the targeting pad, rapidly selecting a patch of ground elsewhere on the planet.

You heard the captain, Rawson told him, deciding it would be bad for them both to try and make a case with something so weird.  We encountered a fluke, no big deal.  Find that landing zone mister, because I'm not getting put out of the airlock over some old man that freaked you out. 

Yes ma'am, Ensign Johnson easily replied, deciding she was right.  It wouldn't do him any good to waste the captain's time on such weirdness.  He would have probably convinced Captain Smith to study the strange phenomenon just in time to watch the old man walk away, which would piss his captain off to no end.  He got busy looking for level terrain, it wouldn't be long before their own people were down there in person.  The old man could stare at the arriving forces all he wanted, it sure wouldn't stop them from rounding his wrinkled ass up. 

THE GLARING INVISIBLE eyes vanished after moving several times, as if they were trying to evade Xarduvik's notice.  Just as quickly as it came, the feeling of being watched disappeared.  The sensation was completely gone.  The sky was merely its pleasant blue cloudless scenery once again. 

Xarduvik paused only for a few more moments, making sure the strange intrusion didn't return.  His feet had been making their way to his home, now they changed direction for a new destination.  Something didn't feel right when the very sky started to watch an old fool of a wizard with such intense scrutiny.  It had been a long time since he visited the oracle, he would be interested in what the powerful old gnome would have to say about this. 

Chapter Six

ORINDA THE ORACLE HAD more than an unusual amount of power when it came to seeing the unknown.  The near future was well within her visionary skills, as well as all things invisible to the heart and mind.  Her gnome born talents aside, she loved wizards that could conjure when they came to visit.  She easily knew he was coming, or she wouldn't be a very good oracle!

With silky white hair tied up in a bun, a pleasant face framing large amber eyes crinkled with age, she nearly jumped for joy as Xarduvik stepped onto the path that led to her home.  She greeted him while wearing her favorite mint green dress with an empty silver platter in her tiny hands.  Hello there, Xar!  Care to provide something sweet and crunchy?  The best fee for my services, you know, so you're getting off cheap today.  My sweet tooth has been nagging me all morning long. 

Xarduvik smiled politely while his hands made a swift gesture.  A dozen sugar coated cookies appeared on the small silver platter, putting Orinda into a fabulous mood.  There you go, he replied with genuine respect for her powers.  You just might up your fee today.  My request is no easy task, I'm afraid. 

Smiling, Orinda stuck a cookie in her mouth and carefully set the platter down on a low table next to her patio.  She got behind a human sized chair and pushed it forward for the old wizard to use.  Once they were seated comfortably, she prepared to munch a second cookie in high spirits.  Tell me your problem, Xar.  What can my mind's eye see for you today?

After I upset Vorigar something awful this morning, I went for um, a stroll to my house from the school, he confessed rather poorly.  Orinda knew he left out details to save his ego.  She didn't need to focus her powers to get the idea that his blunder with the dragon was causing him deep emotional distress.  Then I was watched, Orinda.  Not with human eyes... at least I think they weren't human.  Up from the sky.  They were there, I could feel them but not see them.  My own psionic skill is horribly poor, as it tends to be for us humans.  I couldn't sense any intelligence.  All I felt was hostility.  Can you please use your talents to see if there's anything to my experience?

Orinda's gnomish smile almost appeared feral.  I would love to see what was stalking you, my friend.  I can feel the waves of your concern even without focusing, and I know you're no idiot in these matters.  Finishing her cookie quickly, she adjusted herself in the chair.  Her eyes closed. 

Xarduvik felt her thoughts expand.  Her ability to see plots within plots were renown in four of the five realms.  The dragon's kingdom was the only other place a more powerful seer could be found.  The large serpentine creatures didn't want to be paid in cookies.  They required things of much more value, usually high grade gems or enough gold to panic a wealthy kingdom's economy.  Orinda's powers were that unusually high and that meant they were almost as effective. 

Orinda's features pinched slightly, her concentration increasing as she felt something out of place high in the sky.  She pushed her powers even harder.  Whatever was up there was higher than any living thing should be able to go.  Her thoughts found the void where no life should be, yet there was a glimmering of some sort.  Something was actually living within the void?  But what?  She pushed harder with her mind's energy, stretching out and up in a swirling search.  Whatever was there became huge, metallic and hollow.  She could feel people inside of it! 

ENSIGN RAWSON TYPED furiously as the bridge was bathed in a red tinge.  Her computer analyzed the pattern as she hollered out to her Captain, Sir, we're being scanned from the planet below! 

They don't have any kind of technology down there, Captain Smith half hollered back.  What's the energy signature?  That will tell us if there's a hidden base on that planet, or worse, the inhabitants somehow masked their true levels of technology. 

Ensign Johnson swiveled in his chair, his own console coming up with a new analysis.  It's unknown energy, the same type that's emitted from the star.  A high concentration, but it's unmistakable.  This could be a natural occurrence. 

Captain Smith

Reviews for Chronicles of Valinthia

[Engr_Roy84 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

humor, magic and science fiction. A great combination! highly recommended.

[Robin Hampton · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Fun book. I enjoyed it right to the end. I'm looking forward to more books in the series.