TFF: Ovion Archives

I landed the capsulor in a cloud of dust fresh off the baked red sand desert. The navigator and console had malfunctioned a while back, leading me to have to feel my way through with no communication with central ASec and manually land this this thing here, location unknown. I may have steered off course even further than expected, owing to my excellent sense of direction. Not!

Slapping on my ray ban lenses for some protective measure against the harsh dry desert winds and the glare of the sunlight, ultraviolet rays, and other harm full rays that could be damaging to my otherwise excellent sight, I flicked the hatch knob and leapt out, weapon at the ready. The desert around me was unusually quiet. It was almost like a hush before a storm, or it could have just been my overactive imagination kicking in? A bale of dry weeds lazily rolled by pushed along by the hot winds. I felt the heated grains of sand in the wind scrape across my skin. I was sure I'd have raw scratches to attend to when I was back in the hatch. Ignoring the mild irritations, I moved towards the mechanics of the craft.

This was the third time my console had malfunctioned during the routine drop-offs my job entailed. Being a freelancer with ASec, I made regular trips to Lyors a distant little town from Musland that encompassed crossing the wide divide between the Avalon Ranges and Mrival's Passing. This was my return journey, having already completed my drop off. Only this time, the route I took transgressed from my usual as I smartly thought to take a shortcut to make it back to ASec in time to prepare for Fran's farewell party. The regular aviation track used by commuters was plenty miles back.

After making a slow rotation along the boundary of the capsular to survey the layout of the land and spot any potential dangers within the immediate vicinity, I disengaged the tools hatchet and pulled out the scumpa, a devise to locate electric surges. I then released the panel clasp, activated the scumpa, and ran it over the circuitry before pausing over the active bleeps and switched it off.

"Damn! Not the fuselage cell."

I muttered to myself in annoyance, fuselage cells did not come cheap and cheap did not work with fuselage cells, in fact mine was the cheapest one there was out there and here you have the results of that un-thought through savings attempt, a blown out cell that not only left here stranded in the middle of nowhere but that could have actually resulted in the whole craft going up in smoke. I was lucky in that the damage appeared to be minimal at least to my untrained eye so ignoring the black charred look of the surrounding circuitry. I reached in to fiddle around with knobs, hoping a little twist and shake was all it needed. After tinkering uselessly with the fuse valves for a bit, I ran my scumpa over the circuitry again, and when the indicators remained the same, I slammed the panel shut and let loose a few expletives. I began by cursing the very stars of Ilas and then threw in a few of the other more famous stars in my present constellation for good measure. Feeling somewhat calmer after venting, I surveyed the horizon ahead, looking for any form of life on the deserted plains. I was not too worried for a rescue vessel would be on its way. When I failed to maintain contact with Ovion Securities, I knew I'd have fallen off the radar blip. As this was hostile territory, the search and rescue unit was always on standby.

Preferring not to be an open target to anyone likely to cross this path, I moved back two paces and took the running leap necessary to get my back into the cockpit. My drop-down ladder had malfunctioned ages ago. I was hoping to raise more credits so I could give Ollie, that's what I called my vessel, the once-over overhaul it deserved. Hence, I had set aside my pride and persisted in leaping in and out of the aircraft as necessary. Elegance cost money. Besides, the hopping to and fro was an excellent way to keep in shape. I sealed the capsulor shut and tried the comm again to contact Ovion.

The red rays of the sun shone through the front panel, causing a glare over the console. I had also not yet shuffled enough credit to purchase the new ray screen that was all the rage and promised obscurity to the penetrating rays of the sun. I adjusted my portable ray-ban lenses to intensify its protection and gazed out at the brilliantly lit horizon as pondered my next course of action. After a moment of merely zoning out, I recalled I might have had some scratches to attend to, and that is what I did next, whipping out a somewhat out dated and barely functioning portable medic, I set about to rectifying the blemishes on my otherwise smooth complexion.

The heat of the day grew only hotter as the sun reached its peak in the skies. Ollie idled about waiting for rescue. Having time to spare, I ran through my emergency plan, glad I was organised to some extent. There was enough food and water supply to last a day and half. If I rationed these out, there would be enough for the next three days. This meant I would have to find an alternate method to make up the distance from here to Ovion within the next three days. With the capsulor, the remaining journey would take half an hour to complete. However, the journey had probably never been attempted on foot. The treacherous terrain and fearsome sandstorms, combined with the savage wild life and the rumoured presence of a resistance base, were enough to dissuade the hardiest to attempt such a journey. The only possible means was by air. This was the reason tight security was maintained at all ports surrounding the Dukong Deserts. Travellers were required to register their flight plan ahead of time and radio in on any changes. My failure to contact Ovion as scheduled would have resulted in the activation of an emergency rescue as Ovion Securities would have been made aware of my departure from ASec quarters and would naturally expect me to be stranded somewhere out here.

If only I hadn't deviated from my flight plan. I could gage the penalties my actions had involved.

"If only I can somehow blame the computer malfunction as the reason for having deviated off course," I muttered to myself as I thought it through.

The rescue came some two hours later. My situation had obviously not ranked as urgent.

Just as I was nodding off in the suffocating heat, there was a loud tap on the hatchway. I figured rescue would want to go about it silently and not use their speech projectors, given the comm were out of circuit. I jerked upright and leapt out of my seat. I peeped out the viewing pod and saw rescue had arrived. I was charmed to take note that, suited up in Ovion livery, a team of three, with phasers at the ready, had come to my rescue. The leader knocked again impatiently, flashing his ASec credentials at me. I thanked the stars and released the hatch to leap down.

The sun gleamed off the airvehicle alongside my capsule. It was the latest of Ovion's impressive fleet. It explained why I had not heard their approach. The technology on this airvehicle was beyond extraordinary. It took another hour before they took off again. Ovion security insisted on first verifying my identity, doing the usual retina checks and even the fingerprint check. They even went the extra mile and did a blood DNA check. That was the limit. Finally, after verifying that I was who I said I was and noting that my insurance was non-existent, they went over Ollie like a swarm of infesting insects, if three Ovions could be considered, by some farfetched means, a swarm of anything but since they moved at unimaginable speeds they were all over poor Ollie very much like a swarm of something. Checking the capsulor themselves to verify its failure. They had also searched my person and relieved me of my meagre collection of weapons that I carried mostly for self-protection. Luckily, I had never had the need to use them, unlike some of my fellow transporters over at ASec control, who, for some reason, got hit on by raiders just about all the time. I thought my luck in that department might have had a lot to do with Ollie itself. The dilapidated state that Ollie was is was sadly obvious to all and sundry. It was a surprise to most of my comrades that Ollie could even take flight at all. At times, even I was surprised by that.

After all their detailed checking, the Ovion ASec leader handed me his portable consol with its pile of regulation e-forms that I had to fill in, and I had to give my very vague explanation as to why I was so far off my flight route. Then refusing my pleas to have the capsulor towed by the airvehicle, the Ovions detached Ollie's black box and took it along to verify my story.

I held my breath and prayed the rest of my craft would remain intact long enough for me to make the arrangements to have it towed in for the repairs I could ill afford. I was only thankful the breakdown occurred on my return trip and that payment for the delivery was a certainty.

At Ovion, I trudged alongside the very tall Ovion forces, who escorted me through to security. There, I had to fill in yet more forms and wrestle with the immovable staff to arrange to have my capsulor retrieved.

I cursed a blue streak when I was also told my weaponry would be retained for security reasons. In the end, after a lengthy effort, I managed to wring out a date to collect Ollie and my weaponry from the centre. My satisfaction was short-lived on receiving the exorbitant quote. I was sure the capsulor was not worth even half that amount. It might have been better to acquire a new capsulor, I decided after a mild hesitation as I recalled the good times and the more frequent not-so-good times with my Ollie. I then negotiated a quote for the retrieval of Ollie to be disposed of as scrap and finally decided that it was still too costly. It seemed the cost of hauling Ollie in would still be more than the worth of its recyclable metal parts. So, instead, I falsely promised to think it over and get back to them. I regret that the only course of action was to leave Ollie where it was and abandon it to scrap scavengers.

I was musing over the features my new capsulor would have as I marched under the scorching sun and proceeded to wend my way through the throng of Muslanders.

Fran's farewell should have been well underway by then, so I decided to forego it altogether. Fran was only shifting jobs, not worlds, and I knew we would bump into each other eventually. Fran was a local Muslander. They were creatures of habit and tended to thread the same paths and perform the same tasks daily. They were bound to meet up more often than not. The Muslander community residing close to the Ovion Centre was fairly small.

Muslanders rarely space travelled. This was what made the Ovion centre so attractive to both the locals and the visitors. It was a one stop centre that facilitated visitor interspecies goods and services trading among the usual service of aviation travel via their ASec unit and security, the Ovions core service.

The Muslanders were the locals in this half of Lycus. They made up almost the entire population. The rest of the population were settlers from other solars, and those were mostly the Ovions themselves who originate from planet Johua. Lycus was the planet I now resided on ever since my perilous escape from Johua four sals back. Ovion Passing, the backbone of Lycus, functioned as a mountain range that literally separated the Muslanders from the planet's other local inhabitants, the Hydrits of Avalon.

I pause mid stride to stretch, the delicious smell of warm kulaf shifting through the air from the nearby cafi teasing my nostrils making me hungry even though I had munched on more than my usual allotment of energy bars. But that was unsurprising my appetite was beyond normal. I put it down to my unusual gene pool and left it at that. I passed by several Ovions marching about as if the place was under siege. Geesh, they never lighten up. I could see they were heading back to the Ovion centre and made the effort to move out of their way.

The Ovion Centre was the sole massive structure in Ovion. It was also the most modern structure equipped with the latest in technology that an unlimited supply of credits could afford. The Ovions were the riches race among the awaken worlds second only to the Johuans who were unrestricted in their ambitions by mere inconveniences such as a consciences. Two sides to the same mould, the Ovions and Johuans were pretty much the light and dark of their own kind. Where Ovions were notorious for being overly principled in their transactions and beliefs the Johuans were unencumbered by the like. The Johuans were firm believers of the utilitarianism where by ethics is determined by comparison of consequence unlike the Ovions who lived and breathed deontology following the principals of their own spiritual beliefs. I myself have had few dealings with Ovions, and no wish to rouse their interest. I am after all never endingly plagued by the one sin I hope the Ovions would never uncover. I steer clear of them as much as I could and mind my manners about them as best I could. The Ovion centre was run entirely by Ovions and that made interactions with them almost impossible to be ignored. The Ovions reputed to be the most trusted sentinels, often acted as middleman for Muslanders to trade with visitors as visitors were often fearful of having to trade with the unknown Muslanders. The Ovions created a dependency on themselves by their sheer unrivalled principals. They unwittingly profiteered from their incomparable reputation for fairness and honesty. They commandeered security bases over countless worlds and provided protection for countless more.

While the Ovions had been settlers at Musland for centuries, they have not increased in population. In fact, the population of Ovions has remained the same throughout. This was due to their longer-than-average lifespan of thousands of sals and to the lifestyles of the Ovions themselves. Each Ovion, after duration of service at the Ovion Centre in Musland, returned to their birth land Johua or were re-stationed to another location. They had nomadic lifestyles and were slow to put down roots.

Johuans as a species were far advanced from other occupants of the awakened worlds. They were a highly skilled and influential society. Where other planets harnessed their natural resources for exports of food, energy, minerals, and other commodities, the Johuans left their natural resources untouched and relied wholly on the export of their skills and abilities to sustain the needs of their nation.

While the Johuan culture was one of peace, one of their main exports of their nation was their unrivalled skills in weaponry and weapon less defence. The Ovions, a special breed of Johuan earmarked almost at birth to join the elite group of sentinels, security enforcers not restricted to Johua alone, but to other planets occupied by intelligent beings in the awakened segments of the universe, were the key contributor to peace that currently reigned across the awakened worlds.

I was not a Muslander. I was most assuredly not a Johuan. I still had no knowledge of my genetic make-up, having never known my sire or met any of my species before.

While there were flex outlets within accessible distance to my home at ASec, I still saw no need to get my dna traced to the databank of the numerous species that inhabited the universe.

I was happier not knowing which customs and cultures I had been born into. It permitted me some small, if rather convoluted, sense of freedom. Unrestrained by tradition, unmarked by expectations, my future was my own, and the possibilities were endless.

I wiped the sweat off my brow and ducked into the alleyway leading to my usual cheap lodging in Musland Central, close to ASec, where I usually left Ollie during such overnight trips. Usually, even then I slept on board. Being in transportation, Ollie was my only real home the rest were mere rented accommodations that served to provide momentary land based shelter before I was off again to the next port of call. I felt a tinge of sadness over Ollie having to spend stars knew how long all alone in the desert before the scavengers scooped in and tore Ollie apart for scraps. Ollie was really all I had. I only lodged at the seedy Purtoil hostel whenever I was left stranded overnight in Musland, which happened fairly often due to the frequent breakdowns of my capsulor. Those times Ollie would be worked over by some half-baked techie that could ill afford hence the need for me to lodge elsewhere. The Purtoil suited my needs well enough despite its seedy look. It put me on high alert just to be within its vicinity. No use wasting hard-earned credit on comfort wants. I preferred to live on basic needs rather than accumulate and revel in lavishness. Wealth drew unwanted attentions, after all. Having soothed my ruffled nerves with that bit of twisted logic, I trudged on, stamping my hard-heeled boots into several potholes along the way hoping to scare away my own shadows of fear.

I barely had time to flinch away from the blow over my shoulder. I flipped around to face my attackers. They had come out of nowhere. I switched to a low crouch and surveyed my attackers.

They weren't local Muslanders. They were stocky and heavily armed, and their faces were unfamiliar. They didn't look like your average thieves. Their artillery alone was worth more than all my assets put together.

I gazed at them, confused. I was certain that they might have targeted the wrong person, for I was what I appeared to be penniless. I was even poorer than my attackers based on how they were decked up. There was nothing they could possibly want from me. But before I could voice my protest, the centre attacker made a swift lunge at me.

I flung up my right arm in defence and deflected his strike.

Vnetor had its plus points after all, although I had never really had to ever call upon the skills I acquired there prior to today. It would be good to see if I could indeed recall and apply all I had learnt. It should have me sailing through current predicament after all I had been trained by the best.

With a sharp turn, I flung a swift kick at the attacker and hit him squarely in his chest. He tumbled back a pace from the blow.

I flipped back a further three paces. I eyed them up again looking for hidden traps and weaknesses, a shiver of fear ran up my spine and the familiar tingles started to run up my hands. They were too heavily armed for me to stick with weapon less combat and I to all intents and purpose was virtually unarmed.

There was no avoiding it, I had to pull on my sole skill that could match the artillery they carted at least I hoped it could. I pretended to twitch the ring on my finger, then joined the tips of my fingers and raised them to my forehead, which was bent in concentration. It was all for show a mechanism I had devised for just such eventualities in the hopes of diverting the attention of my attackers with my bizarre behaviour so that they would not realise the blue erupted directly from me and not from any object that I carry.

A brilliant blue light shone from the tips of my joint fingers.

The attackers took a pace back, at the ready with their weapons. I frowned as I strained in concentration. A blue shield instantly formed just in time to block a hit from their armed weapons.

Their lasers failed to penetrate through.

I increased concentration and visualised a beam from the centre of the shield aimed at the attackers. The blue flame shot forward, lighting a neon blaze through the darken alley. It hit right on the mark. My attackers were flung back against the wall, but they, otherwise, appeared unharmed. Those impressive suits they were wearing weren't merely for show, after all.