The Recruit - An Adventure in the World of Draxis (Part One)

I debated a long while about posting this story, a tale set on the world Draxis, the planet that's central to my upcoming trilogy and frequently referenced in current stories in the Inherited Stars Series. 

You might think of Draxis as a legend comparable to the legend of Troy. For a long time the world wondered about this once-great civilization. Did Helen of Troy's face really launch a thousand ships? Did Achilles and Hector once engage in combat outside its gates? 

Did the great walled city of Troy ever truly exist?  

That question was left unanswered for centuries, until the ruins of Troy were discovered -- a vast, walled, Bronze Age metropolis  -- just as Homer described it and just where he said it would be. 

Now imagine Troy as an entire planet lost to time -- but buried in a very different way.

The Recruit was originally written as bonus material for Draxis--a scene turned inside out and told from a different character's POV. It needs no scene set-up or introduction. I hope you enjoy your first venture into the lands of Draxis, and that you'll come back for more of The Recruit in future blogs. 

The Recruit 

I go by the name Baranar. I will not tell you my real name. It doesn’t matter. What matters is the tale I must tell, because not many know of it. Long ago, a wise man of an ancient tribe on our sister-world, Earth, said that legends are a blending of many voices. This is my voice, and this is my one small thread to weave into the greater tapestry. Here is where it began…

The recruit walked across the wooden floor of Denarri Ranger Station. I listened to the cadence of his steps and studied the set of his head and shoulders. He had a bearing that exuded confidence and competence. My lips twisted into a sneer. More fodder for the farratoras. Another in an endless line of doomed men who came to the Tahila Death Ranger ranks to disappear from society. Or because he had a suicide wish. What crimes had this one committed?

No matter. Here, he’d pay for them all. And soon.

The average lifespan of a Tahila Ranger was three turnings of the moons. If a cadet had the skills to pass initiation—survive the onslaught of a maddened farratora pack or a killdrop by an adult penthis—he might defy the odds.

I defied the odds. For me, eight seasons had passed in the hell of twilight and terror called the Green Death. At twenty-eight suncycles, I’m the “old hand” here. The grizzled veteran. I didn’t survive this long by having new recruits as partners. 

Damn Cannar to the Fifth Hell.

The young man bent his head to speak to Cannar, the Denarri Marshall. The old fool nodded his silver head and raised a hand, pointing my way. The recruit strode in my direction.

Farratora fodder.

“You are Ranger Elite Baranar.” It wasn’t a question. I looked him over. Draxian genes stamped our breed with dark skin pigment, light hair and intense green eyes. What set this one apart was his carriage, the feel to him. Some might call it his aura, but I didn’t believe in mystical hebah.

“That’s my given.” My reply came as a growl. Like most here, my real name and details of my former life are subjects best left unexplored. Here, it’s considered the epitome of rudeness to pry, and social blunders often end in severed limbs…or heads.

“We’re assigned to collect herbs for the farmatechs in Sector Five.”

A take-charge sort, was he? No questions. No seeking of advice. No small talk. Right to the point, and bold enough to venture into the nightmare jaws of the Green Death without a shake to his knees. Overconfidence could be its own brand of suicide.

I glanced at Gallin, who stood at my right elbow. Though ‘friend’ is an alien word here, I respected Gallin as a peer.

“First rush,” I said.

Gallin grunted and shook his head. “Second hit.”

“Four tenkars.”

“Ten.”

The young man tilted his head, his expression telling. He'd guessed we were wagering how long he would last, and it wasn’t fear I saw in his eyes.

“A hundred tenkars and my sword, gentlemen,” he said in a calm voice, “that I survive this tasking.”

Gallin glanced down, then arched a brow. “Done.”

(To be continued in a later post.)

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Thanks for joining me for the beginning of The Recruit. I'll post more of the story soon.