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[2009: JAN-FEB] From outcast to Chief?

Tal Tel-ar

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Ta'ar wiped the sweat from his face. It always amazed him how much he could sweat this far under ground away from the sweltering heat of the desert above. Still his shift was almost over, for which he was grateful. He was just glad that today he was working close to the main vertical shaft. Yesterday it had taken him almost 2 hours to get out of the tunnels and make his way up to the bowels of the city above. Today he would probally be able to make the trip in less than a half hour.

Maybe he would take the time to go by the Targ's [...] for a few drinks after he had eaten and cleaned up. Not that he really drank much there. No, if truth be told he never ordered anything stronger than fruit juice. Still cost him twice what a shot of gut churning fire water would have cost. No. He went to watch the girls. OK. 1 girl. Be're. One of the few Cart'hen females he had ever seen working these dives.

He was pretty sure she was only a half breed. Her features were softer, with a much darker colorization than most of his people. Added to that was the long dark brown hair she had. None of his people could grow hair that long. Still, she was a beauty with her short, silky, tan body fur, trim, athletic body and sensual movements.

Crack!!! "Get back to work ya maggot." snarled a gravelly harsh voice behind him.

The sound and the sudden shot of pain let him know that one of the overseer's had spotted him slacking off. He took it. He had learned early that if he wanted to keep the job he had no choice. In fact none of the other mines would hire him. Not after all the trouble he had caused at some of them. He had been lucky to find this job. Other wise he would have had to travel on foot over 500 km accross the desert to the city of Toith to find another job.

No. As much as he wanted to feed the man his own whip, Ta'ar just gritted his teeth and continued to feed fuel into the fire. Not much longer and his day would be over. Maybe he would get lucky and run into the gutless worm topside. Not much chance of that. Besides all he really wanted was to clean up, get something to eat and have a huge pitcher of cold water. Oh yes, and go see Be're dance. Yes he would go to the Targ's [...] tonight. He might even spend 10 credits and get her to dance for him in private.


A smile crossed his face at the sound of the steam whistle. Quittin time. Ta'ar moved to join the rest. Waited in line to turn in his tools and be signed out. Then he had to hurry over and join the line waiting for the cargo lift.

By the time he stepped off the lift onto solid ground again and moved off into the lowest levels of the city he was ready for a change. No, not just ready. Eager. He pushed through the crowds of smelly, filthy, rag wearing people. one hand at his belt, the other ready to strike if need be. Yes, tonight he would visit the "Targ's [...]", but first he would stop at the "Good Eats".

It was one of the few places that served native dish's. Not that the food was really tasty. In fact depending on the day it could be rather disgusting. Still it was better than trying to eat some of the stuff the other races laughtingly called food.

Just as he was about to enter the place he spotted a face he knew, followed by another. NO. It could not be. He would have never expected to see them here in the city. They hated any and everything alien, and the city was pure 100% alien. Still they were here. And if they were here then something serious must be wrong somewhere.

As he moved to join them, they spotted him as well. It was obvious they did not approve of his manner of dress. They wore the tradition robes and garments of the desert, while he dressed just like the rest of the aliens around him. Still they said nothing, greeting him in silence.

"What do you want," Ta'ar demanded.

"You must return to the tribe," replied the elder of his 2 cousins.

"What! Which part of NO and Never do you not understand?"

"You must Ta'ar. It's your turn to lead our people."

It took a second for the meaning behind those word to filter in. For them to come looking for him after the tragic disaster that had resulted in his swearing never to return. The only possible reason was that the rest of his family was dead. Just the thought made his legs feel weak. As much as he had argued and fought with them he had loved his grandfather and both older brothers.

Ta'ar turned away. His mind a confused jumble of questions and memories. It was only the firm hand on his shoulder that kept him from wandering off in a daze. How? Why? When?

"Why must it be this shola," grumbled his younger cousin.

"Because it is his destiny."

"He spat on our traditions when he joined these... $%^&*."

"Ki'er!" snapped his older brother. "Take care."

"Why. It should be you leading our people. Not him."

"No. Ta'ar may be many things. But he is also our chief."

"Quit argueing." Snapped Ta'ar as he shook off the hand. He spun to face them. His eye's a little wild. His voice hard, strong and commanding as he demanded. "What happened to the others?"

"Your grandfather took your brothers into the desert. They were going to undergo the rite of Pra'tok. When they failed to return we went looking." At this point the older mans voice became more somber, his eye's moist as his mind drifted back along the river of his memories.

"We found them scattered among the dunes and rocks. They had been killed. Shot and stabbed."

"Those [...] Klingons did it." exclaimed the younger cousin.

"For what reason," asked Ta'ar.

"How should I know. They are bloody butchers."

"Yes they are. But they never kill with out a reason." replied Ta'ar.

"I believe you may be right." answered his older cousin. "I have seen many men killed by the Klingons. Nothing about the injuries or damage done to their bodies after they were dead have I ever seen a Klingon do."

"Where did this happen?" demanded Ta'ar, as he locked his eye's with those of the older man.

"Your grandfather went deep into the desert, to the edge of the black rock region."

"That is less than 10 days journey by foot from here." replied Ta'ar.


Ta'ar considered what he had heard. His thoughts slowly crystalizeing before he looked up at the city above him. Then he suddenly let go with a primal scream of rage and loss.

"AAAAAGGGGHHHHHUUUUUUU!!!!!" He knew why they had died. The aliens. The [...], filthy, cut throat, scum that controled this stinking hell hole. This pestulant wallow of death, disease and crulty that they called the city of Mith.

"Ta'ar!" exclaimed his older cousin as he reached out a hand. "Are you OK!"

"Yes!" snapped Ta'ar. "I am ok. Better than I have been in many months."

"So. You will return?"

"Yes." he replied as he looked around him. A look of disgust on his face. "We leave as soon as I have taken care of a few things."

"You will not do anything stupid?"

"No cousin. I do not have a death wish." He sighed and clenched his hands into fists. "No. I have credits that need to be spent. The money will be useless to me once I return to the tribe."

"Very well."

Ta'ar considered where he might buy weapons for the best price. He knew of a few places. Everyone who lived in the lower city knew where to find just about every preversion, drug and sin. Right now all he wanted was weapons.

Turning he stalked away. His 2 cousins close behind him. He had made his choice. The Targ's [...]. It would let him take care of all his errands and escape from this city as fast as possible. Plans and dreams slowly formed as he stalked along. He did not even notice how the crowds instinctively moved out of his way, but his cousins did.

Ta'ar entered the dive, pauseing just long enought to let his eye's scan the crowd. Then he weaved his way through the crowd till he reached the young dancer. His hand reaching out to grab her arm and pull her to him. She was startled and let out a gasp. Before she could call out for help, she glanced to see who had grabbed her. The sight of Ta'ar and the intense look in his eye's stopped the yell from forming.

"Get your stuff. Your leaveing here now."

"Wha... I... " she was confused, stunned. She knew who he was, but he had seldom talked to her. "I don't understand?"

"I'm leaveing the city. I'm takeing you with me. Now!"

That simple statement stunned Be're more than anything in her life. But what shocked her even more was the fact that she felt so strange. Her tummy was all a flutter and her mouth was dry. This made no sense, but neither did her reply. "O...OK..."

A smile suddenly appeared on his face. It was supriseing in how it transformed his features. "Good." Then he turned to his cousins. "Ki'er! Guard her with your life."

"Yes Ta'ar!" he responded. Stunned by the transformation that had overcome his cousin in the last hour.

Then he spun and walked away. He moved swiftly towards the back. He knew that he would be able to buy the weapons he wanted here. After that he would return to his people.

As he walked he had to smile. It seems he could not out run his destiny after all. When he had left the tribe he never would have expected to someday lead them. His only regret was that his grandfather had to die before he inherited his birthright.

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  • 4 weeks later...

Well it is a finished story but I leave that up to you.

I have no idea how to add that blue arrow symbol along the side unless...

Is it the post icons (optional at the bottom)

I will try that now

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