New Story

When winter weather is blowing snow and ice outside, and the chores are done for the day, it's time to write about those who stand guard on the rim of space.

Royaléloxiss is the most dangerous planet in the Asperon system. Owned and operated by the Candreamn Corporation and its many subsidiary companies, it is a world run by heartless, greedy overseers, who squeeze life's blood, sweat, and tears of sorrow from it's bound-and-chained contracted company workers. Little is known of the planets deep mine workers. They work long hours for little pay, while company's big shots reap huge profits and live in opulence.
Few have escaped from the mining planet. Most die from exposure to toxins found in the mines and from the exported food supplies shipped in from Chinchow, a large planet also found in the Asperon planet system.
In the years following the sighting of a twin-tailed comet that passed Royaléloxiss, a legend began to spread of a super race of beings who promised to return and help the plight of those sick and down trodden company workers. Unknown to the Candreamn Corporation, secret communications had been delivered to a few humans who were strong enough to mind-link with the alien race. Many of those contacted went mad, their brains scrambled like green seuss eggs in a mixing bowl. Others cowered in timorous fear, mentally not being able to accept what was revealed, or imparted. Those few who were able to understand grew stronger mentally and physically, thus escaping the labor planet by means of cleverly built space ships. They became adept fighters for an independent and politically free society. Under the cloak of secrecy they worked, creating fantastic tools and weapons while on board their resilient and reliable space ships. The aliens kinntet mind-link to those enhanced few, although at times weakened due to the Candreamn Corporation's network of satellites circling high in Royaléloxiss atmosphere, could not be broken. Using alien knowledge of anomalys in time travel, the fighters minds and bodies soon became immune to Royaléloxiss deadly toxicity.
The story you now read is true. Names have been changed to protect those who
continue to fight for change in the Asperon system.
The distinguished fighting ship Gargoyle had been stranded just over the Rim of space in Asperon territory for what seemed like an eternity. Her cloaking shields, and heavy anti sonic cannons had been damaged in an all out battle with enemy forces. The Gargoyle obscure drift was now surrounded by a squadron of freight and fighting ships, all of whom passed supplies and replacement equipment to her crew members as they worked at a fervent pace to restore her to space travel and battle worthiness.
"The Captain of the lalaliberty seship Tar Baby wishes tooto speak toooto you Captain."
Captain Dusty Bönus lifts her welding mask long enough to shoot the stuttering crew member a wicked glance. Her green eyes glowed in the high overhead lighting.
"Who the cares what the Captain of the Tar Baby wants. Can't you see I'm busy?"
"Yes caacapCaptain, but this isn't a babattle situation, and I'mmm nananot risking my being skewered by a sharp saber like a shshshish kebab by Captain baba Momba."
"Fiddlesticks." said Captain Bönus as she lowered her mask and expertly ran a bead of melting metal along the decking plate of the ships ammunition loading ramp. Quickly she flipped up the viewing shield. "Captain B.B. Mamba!"
Nowhere the Rim was there a person of any species that had not heard of the fierce and honorable Captain B.B. Momba of the red dragon society. She had been schooled in the ancient arts of the road warriors, and was a tree world witch from childhood. Captured, tortured, and confined in situations that would have driven less noble prisoner insane, she always escaped, leavening behind a trail of dead bodys. She, many times out battled small armies of the corporate overlords by stealth cunning and formidable personal strength. Captain Mamba aristocratic name and brave exploits is what space frontier legends are made of. Standing just under five foot, with raven hair and eyes so dark as to drown most who dared look in them longer than a quick glance, Captain B.B. Momba strikes fear into the hearts of young and old alike, no matter what their station, or status in life might be.
"Holy Shit, Of all the Hell Hole quadrants in space to choose from, how in the hell did she know I was here?" said the now befuddled Captain Dusty Bönus. "What is she wearing?"
"Fafafafull babattle ddress."
"Oooo! Sabers, black velvet, red sash, cork knee-high boots?"
"Yes!" said the trembling lieutenant.