“I hate my life.” Jack drained the cup of tea in his hands and sighed.

“Another?” A smiling face with glasses asked while holding out a floral kettle.

Jack extended his cup, “Please.”

“Condolences my friend,” James elegantly poured him another cup of tea, then turned to Jillian, “Miss?”

“Of course, thank you James,” Jillian responded warmly, her tone noticeably softer than when she had first met James.

Jack sipped his tea and sighed. They weren’t in the clearing with the picnic blanket anymore. Now they were sitting at a small oaken table in a wooden cottage at the edge of the forest. James apparently owned a few acres of land on the edge of the “town”. If you could use such a word for this preindustrial hellhole. The “town” didn’t have a formal name, it was associated with a very large school or — “sect” as James called it — that was nearby. The school was something like a castle. The Principal of the School (or the Chancellor) was like a noble and everyone else was just an expendable peasant. Or so James’ dreary view of the world went.

Jack nibbled on a cookie, again surprised at how similar it tasted to a good old-fashioned cookie baked by his Mamma.

He was bored, embarrassed and angry. He needed a distraction.

He tapped his implants and the green screen in front of his eye flashed with images, numbers and letters.

Yes, looking at the scans of alien life should put my mind off things…

He could recognize the majority of plant life he saw, there were a few oddities, but most were the same. It was a little strange to be sipping tea at a table in a cottage in an alien world, but their shuttle was destroyed when they tried to leave the planet. Not damaged. Not bruised. But annihilated by some invisible force. The state of the art spacecraft had flown about 16 km in the air and then simply smashed into an invisible ceiling. The entire front of the machine had crumpled like it had been slapped by a massive hand, the auto-eject feature had saved their lives, soon after they left the ship it had exploded in to a ball of fire.

Good thing their suits had jet packs! But all their fuel had been used up to land safely. Jack had cursed this planet, cursed himself and almost started cursing Jillian before she smacked some sense into him. After he had calmed down, Jack noticed two things. One, communication with their ship in orbit was impossible — for whatever strange reason. Two, James had seen the whole thing… and he had quite the sinister sneer on his face. A bit of “I told you so” and some “Serves you right”.

Jack eyed the primly dressed alien. This man was his only hope at survival, there was no telling what weirdness lurked on this world. Jack was trying his best to just not think about magic and people walking into space.

“So…” Jack began slowly, “What do you call this planet?”

James sat down and opened a small book with strange letters on it. He smirked at Jack and said, “What do you call your planet?”

“…Earth?”

“What a coincidence, that’s what I call mine too. Wait, wait Jack. I have another, what do you call your sun? We call ours ‘sun’.”

James is such a dick. If he wasn’t putting them up for the foreseeable future Jack would throttled him into the wall. He was so petty. All he did was call him an alien and point a gun at his face! Nobody died — not yet.

YOU DAMN ALIEN!!! Jack seethed in his mind, but maintained a calm veneer.

He thought of trying his luck in the nearby town, but if James was telling the truth — and so far, the broken shuttle being a point in his favor — they had nowhere else to go. Not until they at least learned how to speak. And got new clothes. Their electronic battle suits were nice, but they made them look like cyborgs trapped in Victorian England! Jack recalled the town, James had to sneak them through the town to get to his little house on the other side of the forest. They had definitely seen some of the seedier places, but it was nice. The school looked nice too. The architecture was complex, and the streets were clean, but he didn’t see any electrical lights or cars — even the old-style gasoline automobiles. It might be difficult to adapt to such a time period… what if they didn’t have sewers? Thank goodness he could just go to the bathroom in his suit, he hadn’t even asked James if this civilization was advanced enough to have a flushable toilet. He didn’t expect any laser operated toilets that incinerated waste. Or the high-tech matter recyclers that converted feces into pure carbon. No no. His standards were low, just a flushable toilet. Some toilet paper too… no leaves. Please… no leaves.

Jack tried to be casual, “What is the level of technological advancement here? Do you even have running —”

James held up his hand, “Now, I’d love to answer all your questions, but it sounds rather tedious.”

Jack felt his temper soar. Doesn’t that mean you don’t “love to answer all my questions”! Jack drank his tea furiously, draining the cup. His veins bulging as he tried not to shatter the china.

James poured him more and continued, “Now if you let me touch your head, I can absorb all your language… after that I can just tell you all the things that are different between our worlds.”

“What are you talking about?” Jack’s voice was not friendly, and Jill’s eyes were now locked firmly on James.

James waved off their attention and said plainly, “What is language? It is ideas. I have the ability to learn ideas or ‘language’ directly from someone’s mind. If I learn what you mean by the word “foot” I can explain how our ideas on ‘feet’ differ, if —”

“You guys have different feet!” Jack’s eyes darted below the table.

James’ face contorted, “It was just an example…”

“Oh,” Jack sounded oddly disappointed.

Jill did not miss her cue, “So you’re into feet eh? Is that why you told me I can’t wear socks and sandals…”

Jack ignored her smarmy comment and faced James. He rubbed his forehead, trying to massage out the stress wrinkles. This sounded incredibly dangerous and stupid and… What the heck… “Just do it! Take all my language or whatever and just explain to me everything!”

A smile spread across James’ face, he reached out a hand and placed it on Jack’s forehead.

Jack gave a start. The movement was slow and simple. But he felt powerless, like he couldn’t avoid the hand even if he wanted to. It was warm and soft. The hand of someone who exercised his body very little. But it was heavy. Like a massive weight on his skull, blurring his ability to think. Maybe this is a bad idea… Jack tried to speak up and stop this procedure. But he couldn’t… all he heard was James’ now distant voice.

“This may hurt a little…”

*****

While an astronaut was having his mind mined by an “alien” in a small cottage on the edge of a forest (the occasional scream not withstanding) a very different scene was occurring not too far from there. A man with a broad back and a slightly pudgy belly, clothed in a dirty kimono was sitting patiently at a tea stall inside the small town adjacent to the school. His kimono was black and underneath it was another dirty black shirt. His black hair was greasy and long, but not long enough to be a mullet. He ran a hand through it sweeping it back, its inborne grease enough to hold it in place. His eyes were dull and brown and some blackish brown scruff dotted his face. He scratched his stubble. The man seemed absent-minded. And he was. One thought rotated around his head as he took a sip of black tea.

I am so tired.

People dressed in suits and leather shoes walked by, paying no mind to his attire or to the long katana hanging from his belt. The scabbard was black, wooden and simple. The hilt unadorned and wrapped with a rough black leather. His legs were crossed as he kept thinking about the upcoming mission.

He was so lost in thought he didn’t notice someone approach him until a shadow blocked out the sun.

“Da Shan, you ready for the mission?”

The man looked up at the woman. She was dressed simply, with tan riding pants, high brown leather boots and a loose-fitting silk shirt. A grey waistcoat completed her outfit, the masculine choice of clothing did little to disguise her gender. Sandy brown hair done up in a pony tail and mischievous blue eyes and red lips cut her the perfect image of a damsel in distress, except she was the damsel that would cause distress.

“Hey Da Shan, are you listening?”

The man called Da Shan sipped his tea and then set down his cup. He poked his pinky in his ear and dug out a wad of earwax. The woman didn’t even react — as if she was used to this kind of behaviour. The man rolled the wax in his fingers into a ball, then flicked away the ball of wax and gestured to a chair at his table.

She nodded and sat down. There were a few empty cups at the table, no doubt for the rest of the people on the mission. She poured herself a cup and sipped contentedly and glanced at the tea shop. The tea stall was made out of dark wood and was portable, there were a bunch of areas in the town with tables and chairs — for relaxation, conversation or even chess. The stalls migrated through town peddling their wares at these public oases.

Da Shan waved at the stall owner for another teapot. The man walked over bringing an ornate white china teapot with steam rising out of the spout. Da Shan slipped him a couple silvers, the man nodded and returned to his work.

“So, Da Shan,” the woman turned to face him, “Are you ready for this mission?”

Da Shan nodded slowly, “Cindy, I’m always ready.”

Cindy smiled and brushed back a strand of sandy brown hair, “This is my last mission before I get promoted. We’ve been on a lot of missions together, haven’t we?”

Da Shan nodded stoically.

Cindy smiled, waiting for him to respond. Silence stretched on between them. Cindy coughed awkwardly, “I have enjoyed our missions together.”

Da Shan nodded again, his face so neutral it was practically painful.

Cindy pulled her teacup closer, “I have really enjoyed our missions together.”

“That is good to hear,” Da Shan’s tone was so devoid of emotion it almost sucked the life out of Cindy.

She sighed and leaned back in her chair, “Has anyone told you you’re bad at conversation?”

He looked at his cup. He scratched his head, letting white snowflakes fall to the table. It was as if winter came every time he scratched his head. White flakes of dead skin from his scalp settled in his tea. Da Shan drank the tea.

“…Well… Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Genuine surprise flickered across his face, “Oh, that was a question?”

“Yes, it was.” Cindy tapped her foot impatiently and waited again. She felt irritation rise in her throat. “Well?”

“What?”

“Dammit Da Shan answer!”

“Oh, you wanted an answer.”

“Yes, I do!”

“I see.”

“…”

“…”

“Da Shan, are you going to answer me?”

“Oh, you wanted an answer now?” Da Shan shook his head softly, his neutral expression turning sagely, “You need to be more clear Cindy. Words are very important, it’s easy to misunderstand.”

“Oh, forget it!”

“What are you two fighting about?” A deep baritone voice called out as a tall black man wearing a loose grey shirt and black pants walked up.

Da Shan sighed emphatically, “If only I knew!”

“Whatever, Cindy forget about this Da Shan guy, he’s just a mediocre loser. Come on… let’s go. We have a mission to do.”

Da Shan didn’t react to the verbal barb, he merely offered a cup of tea, to which the black man shook his head.

Cindy sighed and stood, “Let’s go Da Shan, there’s ten more people waiting for us. We’re ready to go Captain.”

The black man nodded. Then turned and walked off. Cindy got up quickly, smoothed out the creases in her pants and fell in step with the Captain.

Da Shan mumbled to himself about ungrateful and wasteful people who didn’t finish their tea and decried the state of society for a few seconds. He then downed his cup and then Cindy’s. He took a quick look at the stall, just to make sure the merchant wasn’t looking, and reached into the teapot and pulled out the leaves. He grinned evilly as he pilfered the barely used tea leaves, wrapping them in brown paper and stuffing them in his pocket. Then ran to catch up with Cindy and the Captain.

******

“So, there’s no electricity…” Jack was pacing in the small cottage as Jill sat on the floor and leaned against the wall. “Frick…”

James nodded from where he was sitting.

Jack kept pacing, “There’s no guns… no cars… no planes… no computers…”

James nodded again. As if this was a very normal thing.

“There’s nothing here…”

James cleared his throat, “Well… it’s not that there’s no electricity… just very little… and apparently some sort of ‘gun’ has been recently invented. But it’s not anything remotely close to what you’ve got.” James gestured to the rifles protruding form their backs.

“Dammit! There’s nothing here! How the frig are we supposed to get back?! We’re shipwrecked like Robinson Crusoe… dammit!” Jack ran his fingers through his hand furiously.

James wiggled his eyebrows with bemusement, “If I can call you Friday I’ll tell you about a way off this world.”

Jack whirled around and slammed his hands on the table, his eyes wild, “Good glory man, don’t just sit there, out with it!”

James flattened his lapel, “If you cultivate to the Admiral Grade you can probably leave this planet. Or if you amass a fortune — maybe obtain a valuable item — you can probably convince someone to take you off this planet.”

Jack’s face went incredulous and a smack resounded as he slapped his forehead, “Yes, why didn’t I think of that! Jillian! Did you hear?”

Jill, always on time with her cues, “Oh indeed I did Jack.”

“Dammit Jill, all we have to do is cultivate!”

“That’s what the man did say Jack.”

“Or become billionaires!”

“Easy as one-two-three!”

Jack turned and glared at Jill.

She quirked a mischievous smile. Eventually his harsh stare elicited a sigh from her. She stood and patted his shoulder gently, “You’re so melodramatic.” She walked over and stood in front of James, she levelled an inscrutable gaze towards him. James returned it casually. She began slowly, “Explain James… what’s cultivation and how can we help out around here. We want to earn our keep.”

“Oh, and what do you intend to do with your earnings?” James sipped his tea and broke eye contact, as if the idea was disinteresting to him.

“Pay you to teach us the language, we can —”

James held up a hand, stopping Jill’s pleas, “What I received from Jack’s brain is compensation enough for a thousand lifetimes worth of favours.” He looked down at his hand and opened and closed it thoughtfully, “You people are interesting… there are so many interesting ideas in your heads… I would help you free of charge!” James smiled at them, “But I do have an errand I would like you to run for me, for unspecified… reasons… I cannot leave this forest for now. I would like you both to go to town for me and deliver this letter.”

James pulled out a letter from his pocket. The movement was so smooth and there was no crinkling of paper as it came out. And the “letter” was far bigger than his pocket. In fact, the letter was not a letter, it was a package. It was a massive box, almost the size of James’ torso.

Jack stared at him, his mouth open in shock. His jaw snapped shut. He pulled out his tablet with a snap and his fingers leapt across the screen like an Olympic jumper.

Jill stared in bewilderment at James’ coat pocket. She looked at the “letter” slowly, her body completely frozen, she whispered, “Was that… magic?”

James deadpanned, “What, an alien can speak your language, he can read your mind, but what really surprises you is the box? Come on.”

*****

Da Shan, Cindy, the Captain and a bunch of other people — dressed in suits, dresses, jackets, jeans, you name it! — were walking down a forest path. Da Shan was ahead of them by a couple feet. Cindy and the Captain followed, walking side by side. There was a group of people walking in the middle and a rearguard, watching their backs. Their formation was military. Though their steps were uneven and their chatter boisterous, they all gave off a deadly aura. Everyone of them were trained warriors. Experts in their craft. A spear was seen here. A bow and arrow there. The occasional sword as well.

They were Cultivators.

Most Cultivators had a “dimensional-pocket” and could store items in it and pull them out as required. It was like a massive backpack that weighed next to nothing and could fit things in it much larger than itself. Very often, for missions, they would carry their weapons outside of their pockets and on their persons — just to be safe.

Though their tones were light and cheery, their eyes were vigilant. Da Shan’s silence at the head of the column belayed the seriousness of his role.

*****

Jill’s face was incredulous, “So, you guys have just invented the light bulb, you’ve got some sort of… flint lock guns?”

James nodded.

Jill continued, “But you’ve got interdimensional storage spaces?” She turned to look at Jack, who after reviewing the words and numbers on his screen nodded numbly, shock plastered on his face.

James nodded.

Jill stared, “That you just walk around with?”

James nodded for the third time.

Jill sat down on a chair, as if unable to process this information, “So… what exactly is a cultivator?”

“Me, I’m a cultivator.” James gestured expansively, his expression patient. “It’s what allows me to speak all these different languages and to learn ideas directly from someone’s mind. But it does so much more than that.”

*****

The Captain turned to Cindy. Her face was transfixed on Da Shan’s broad back, her blue eyes twinkling with delight as his poor excuse for a hairstyle bounced around while he walked.

The Captain sighed and shook his head, “Cindy, why do you like this fellow? He’s only Lieutenant Grade… and apparently he’s been stuck at that level for over fifty years.”

“None of your damn business Cap’n.” Her tone wasn’t harsh, but it was final.

He sighed again.

She put her dazzling blue eyes on him, he winced at the attention. This girl was Captain Grade, just as strong as him. Except she was a lot younger and had a lot more potential. Plus, she was extraordinarily beautiful in her own way. It was no wonder some of her students at the school had started a fan club for her.

“Captain,” she emphasized his full name, “Tell me the mission objectives one more time and… just remember… you an I both know that Grade doesn’t determine a cultivator’s strength.”

The Captain rolled his eyes, but complied, “Mission is simple. Inquisition. There’s a coven of witches somewhere in the forest. Probably found some very rare herbs for their potions and spells. Bring back their heads… standard.”

Cindy nodded slowly, considering the information. She knew this mission, but something just didn’t smell right. A coven of witches, so close to the Sect? The war with the witches had been going on since people could first cultivate and caste magic. It’s not as if the witches didn’t know they weren’t welcome. Plus their school was one of the strongest in the country, not to mention their Chancellor.

The Captain continued, “We have about twenty men, there are supposed to be only three witches… their strength is unknown. But, it’s unlikely they’re over Captain Grade.” He popped a cigar in his mouth and straightened his black overcoat. And dusted off some ashes from his loose grey shirt. He continued, chewing the cheroot loudly, “We’re supposed to pick up a token from some guy named James… supposedly he’s got some tool that will help us find the witches.” He passed his eyes carefully over the forest. “We don’t have it… but who cares, never needed anything like this before.”

*****

“You need to take this package and give it to a man named Da Shan, he’s wearing a black kimono and… well… not many people wear a kimono around here. He stands out.” James beckoned them to the door.

Jack’s eyes were wide, “You have kimonos?”

James paid the astronaut no mind, a pair of blue rings floated over to the two of them. “If you find yourself in a situation where you need to talk, touch the gem on these rings. You’ll be able to communicate in anyone’s language for an hour. But then the rings will turn to dust.” James shook his finger at them, “Use them wisely, they’re expensive!”

Jack’s expression was intense, “You have Japanese kimonos?”

James rolled his eyes, “Though uncivilized we are fashionable. Oh, and take these two rings.”

“But, Japan!” Jack almost sputtered.

“All in due time, settle down you otaku!” James quirked a wry smile.

Jill let a small smirk cross her face as Jack’s face turned beet red, he flapped his arms as he squawked defensively, “Then why did you dress us in such tight clothes!”

Jack’s bulging muscles could barely be contained by the tight button-up shirt, brown riding pants and slim leather boots he had on. The same outfit hung loosely on Jill, much more comfortably.

James grinned at them both, “If you want to be captured and interrogated by a cultivator much stronger than me, be my guest! Wear those astronaut suits and walk around carrying rifles, I’m sure you won’t look suspicious at all.”

“I feel so defenseless…” Jack undid his top button, revealing a glaring red line of irritation along the base of his neck.

“You have your pistols.” James was nonchalant, “Those can kill most of the cultivators, wizards or Psykers you will encounter.”

“James,” a soft female voice called out.

Jack and James’ eyes widened. It was the first time Jill had directly addressed their “alien” friend. James himself seemed a little shocked, he motioned for her to continue.

“What exactly is a cultivator?” Her tone was full of genuine curiosity.

James sighed and leaned back in his chair, its wooden frame groaning under the motion, he began slowly, his tone serious — like he was giving a lecture, “Everything is in motion… though it all appears to be standing still, yet it has tiny parts that are moving and —”

“NO CARS, BUT YOU HAVE KNOWLEDGE OF ATOMS?!” Jack blurted out, startling everyone. He looked around bashfully after realizing the volume of his outburst.

James ignored him and continued, “In order for things to move they must have energy, there is energy all around us! Though it is in different forms we can access this energy if we match our efforts to the material. Metal can be melted in flame. The metal can shatter stone and cut wood. Then coal and wood can combust and melt metal. What binds all these different things is energy, it's what allows them to interact. But they each produce different effects and are accessed different ways.”

Jack looked like he was about to speak, but James raised a hand stopping him and directly addressed Jack, “I know… your science doesn’t work like this, but I am just telling you the principle. Energy exists everywhere and it is by siphoning the energy — or the motion — from everything around us that we stay alive. A cultivator simply draws more of this energy in and retains more than the average person. He then harnesses this energy. Perhaps by drawing on fire he can generate flame, by directing the energy to his muscles he can increase his raw strength, by pulling from stone he can make his body more rocklike, et cetera.”

Jack and Jill both nodded mutely. It made no sense. But nothing here made sense.

James shook his head and sighed again, “I had hoped to teach you how to cultivate, by experiencing it for yourselves — the power, the increase of lifespan — you just cannot doubt what I’m saying.” James looked at the clock on the wall and his face flashed with anger, “Go quickly, dammit! We’ve wasted too much time, I should have just used a courier, go! Find Da Shan! They need this letter now, they probably already left the town, go! Run!”

The two astronauts jumped at James’ intensity and ran out the door. It wasn’t just his intensity that spurned them on, it was a sense of fear. Like a primordial instinct their bodies obeyed his command before they had even processed it. Jack’s mouth was too frozen for a sharp quip, and as the two of them bolted out the door they shared a glance of mutual trepidation.

Jack taped his right temple and a glassy square filled with green numbers hovered over his eye. Jill did the same. They didn’t have their tablets or their suits, but they still had their implants and their genetic modifications. Jack’s hand fell to the pistol at his hip. And these bad boys.

Jack’s eye screen flashed and Jill’s beeped in response.

She glanced at her screen and mentally clicked on Jackson’s name in her contacts, bringing up the message.

Idiot Jackson: Use text only. James can hear everything.

Using their implants they could type out messages in their minds and wire them to each other’s interfaces, it was called M. S. En or Mobile Systems Encryption. Soon Jack’s implant beeped in response, Jill had sent a message.

He clicked on her screen name with his mind.

The Love of My Life: Not everything.

He looked at it and sighed, he could sense the sarcasm dripping from it. He tossed the boxy so-called letter from hand to hand and monitored his breathing. They needed to pace themselves.

Idiot Jackson: Is it so hard to just say yes?

The Love of My Life: Piss off.

“Dammit Jill!”

Jill slipped him a sly grin and a small giggle escaped her rosy lips. Jack felt his chest tighten and his heart pound. Dammit… she’s so cute when she laughs… er… whatever it is she does.

While the two astronauts were messaging with each other frivolously, James had more important things to do. In the little wooden cottage, he stilled himself on a chair. Breathed deeply, closed his eyes and focused. He needed to find Da Shan, relay his location to the astronauts and — if possible — keep tabs on the witches and join the battle if necessary.

The air in the cottage cooled and the light streaming through the windows slowed.

James strained, his body pulsed and quivered with a vibrant energy and what looked like shimmering strings frolicked underneath his skin like fluorescent tattoos. He was a Cultivator and he drew energy from sound itself. The whole process of communication, understanding and thought. If people made enough sound within his range of influence, he could find out exactly where they were. He was nervous.

I hope I’m not too late… something just feels wrong.

He strained, letting all the sounds of the forest soak in. Soon he heard the chatter of soldiers, the stomping of feet and the occasional loud laugh. It was the cultivators.

Oh, I’ve found Da Shan. Dammit they’re in the forest already!

James’ mind whirled as he thought of the potential disaster an occultish ambush would bring to Da Shan’s team. I promised Katherine Da Da… but you’re making my life so difficult! Frick! Okay… calm down James. Let’s just find the astronauts and direct them… it shouldn’t be — eh?

James’ eyes opened wide in bewilderment. His inner thoughts now audible from shock, “They’re not talking… their footsteps are too quiet… I can’t… I can’t find them. DAMMIT ALL!” James’ shout cracked the table and the door seemed to buckle under its force. He clenched his fingers until blood came, straining to hear the slightest sound the astronauts made.

Sound! Sound! I need sound!

James slapped his thigh and pulled out a old cello from his pocket. The cello looked worn from use, the wood scratched and its deep red stain faded. But its strings were still taunt and tuned. He fumbled around in his jacket and pulled out a bow. Testing the bow, he gripped the antique wooden frame of his cello and brought it close to the chair he was sitting on.

He breathed deeply.

And played.

But no sound came out.

James looked confused.

He played again.

But still no sound came.

“What’s happening?!” He screamed at his hut, only to find his once matchless voice had grown small and feeble. His orangey brown eyes dimmed with horror.

They’re already here!

*****

“Da Shan.”

Da Shan’s surly form whipped around, his eyes glassy and devoid of emotion.

The Captain jerked back a bit. The damn guy’s face always looks like a dead fish. He waved Da Shan to slow down and match their pace. The kimono wearing cultivator fell in step with them. “Do you sense any of the witches?” He asked.

Da Shan paused, his hand gently touched the hilt of his katana. His body tensed up and he sniffed the air gingerly. His muscles clenched visibly and hung his posture low.

Cindy’s awareness shot up. The Captain cracked his knuckles and doubled his vigilance. Da Shan was mediocre, but his sense for danger was unparalleled.

Da Shan inhaled sharply and stopped. The entire column stopped with him. An eerie stillness hung in the air and the cultivators looked around nervously, as a small icy sense of unease gripped each of their spines.

Their formation tightened.

The Captain clenched his fists and spread his legs. Cindy slapped her pocket and a spear bounced into her hand. Growing from tiny to over two meters in length within a moment.

The Captain shuffled forward, “Do you sense the witches?”

Da Shan’s voice was hushed and breathy, his tone strained and harsh, but his word was clear and well pronounced, “No.”

The Captain had to do his utmost not to slug Da Shan in the face.

Just as the column relaxed, Da Shan’s voice came out again, “I don’t sense them… but I smell them… blood… fire… stone… ash… they are near.”

“Let's get the drop on them, move, double time!” The Captain’s voice barked.

Da Shan dashed forward, and the column sprinted after him.

*****

Idiot Jackson: It’s strange that the alien hasn’t said anything to us. How do we know we’re going the right way?

The Love of My Life: We don’t.

Idiot Jackson: Dammit Jill, why do you have to be so rude to me!

Jillian snorted as Jack’s implant beeped with her next message.

The Love of My Life: Why do you have to be so whiny.

Idiot Jackson: Jill!

The Love of My Life: Face it buttercup, you’re a masochist. As a friend, I’m just doing you a favour by feeding into your sick fantasies.

Idiot Jackson: …

The Love of My Life: What the frig is “…” supposed to mean? Don’t deny it Jackson! Why else would you want to stick around and be my friend.

Idiot Jackson: Well… maybe there are other reasons…

The Love of My Life: I think friendship is a good enough reason.

The Love of My Life: Dick.

The Love of My Life: So, you just come for the view? To satisfy your desire for aliens? What about me?

Jack didn’t know how to respond to this tirade, but he felt a flower of hope bud in his chest. Jillian seemed offended that he didn’t see her as his main reason for joining the exploration team. He spared a glance to Jill, almost eager to see the look on her face.

He was filled with regret.

Idiot Jackson: DAMMIT JILL! STOP MESSING WITH ME!

The Love of My Life: Heh.

They jogged on for a moment in silence for a few more minutes. But their rapid pace made their legs tired and weak. Cybernetic enhancements and genetic engineering aside, they were still human.

The Love of My Life: Why are we still running?

“Oh,” Jack let the word escape his lips as he slowed down to a light jog. Jill followed suit and they soon reached the foot of a hill. Slowly they made their way up the hill in silence, even the beeping of their implants had stopped.

Jack sniffed the air, “It smells like fire.”

Jill wrinkled her nose but didn’t respond.

Jack sniffed again, “It smells like… burning… flesh?”

“Prick me.” Jill’s hand dropped to her thigh, hovering over her pistol.

The crouched low and advanced slowly. Careful not to appear hostile, while maintaining caution. Their steps made almost no sound as they walked on the soft grass up the hill. As they crested the hill they were greeted with a sight that made their hair stand on end.

There were two men and a woman huddled around a boiling cauldron. The pot was large, black, greasy and stained. Bones and coals were underneath, burning with an unnatural flame. The people were tall, almost a foot taller than average. The two men had long flowing black robes, bedecked with gold trim and fancy buttons. Each had a white cotton shirt and tan riding pants peeking out underneath. The woman also had an ornately decorated robe, but instead of pants and a shirt, she wore a flowing red corset dress that was pulled tight, accentuating her figure. The woman was beautiful. The men were handsome. If not for the smell of burning flesh each of them would have looked like characters right out of a fairy tale, all their features were flawless and their figures well-shaped. They turned a regarded the astronauts with a bit of quaint curiosity. Their chatter in a language incomprehensible to the spacemen. But the smell of charred meat and the sight of bones was more than they needed to see.

The three figures took a step towards them, as if trying to get their attention, but their words were unintelligible to the astronauts.

A lightbulb went off, Jackson and Jillian remembered the rings James had given them. The astronauts touched the rings on their fingers. The rings burst to life with a small hum and the robed people tilted their heads inquisitively and focused on them. Their intra-group chatter abandoned.

The woman focused her mesmerizing eyes to them, “You are interesting…”

They could communicate now. Jack blushed and bowed, “Typically, it is more polite to begin with introductions. Ahem, dear lady my name is —"

The woman’s snort interrupted Jack, “I have no interest in you… this girl… yes you… you’ve never been with a man it would seem? I need a closer look.”

Thump!

With the twang of a bass string, she moved, crossing a distance of tens of feet in an instant. Jackson and Jill jumped. The woman had seemingly teleported, her bouncing black curls the only indicator that she had moved at all. She rested a gloved hand on Jillian’s face, whose eyes were wide.

Paying no mind to their surprise, the woman traced Jill’s cheek carefully, “Hans… her body is perfect… all the material is well formed, as if she were an Anatomical Cultivator. Her parents must’ve been of great stock.”

One of the men smiled evilly in response, his handsome face warped into a vulture-like visage.

Jill couldn’t move. Like the woman had cast a spell on her. Jill was helpless as the woman’s fingers poked and prodded her skin and teeth. Her eyes screaming silently.

“Hey! Get your hands off her, or I will shoot!” Jackson shouted. The package had fallen from his hands and a pistol was in its place.

The woman ignored him.

Jackson’s hands shook. But he steadied his grip.

The woman in the red dress smiled hungrily at Jill, “She will be delicious.”

Jackson felt his hair stand on end.

Bang!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Without thinking, he had let loose a barrage of bullets

Thump.

The sound was softer this time, but the woman had vanished, and the bullets tore through the empty air, hissing as they flew. Jackson moved, but Jill moved faster, the spell had been lifted. She bolted backwards with her pistol drawn and her gaze heavy

The robed people looked on with expressions of amusement.

One of the men laughed loudly, “Cecile, don’t scare the locals.”

The woman in the red dress smoothed the edges of her robe with a smile, “Gentlemen, there’s no need to play nice, neither of them are Cultivators. I am sure of it. The weapons they have are… interesting… but far from dangerous.”

“Oh…” The two men licked their lips. They whispered softly, “Fresh meat”.

Before Jillian or Jackson could respond the two men charged, like the rush of racehorses, they dashed towards the two astronauts, kicking up dirt as they ran. While the woman hung back.

Bang! Bang!

Jill fired a ferocious volley and shouted, “Move Jackson, flank them!”

Jackson sprinted to the left fanning out and letting loose with a hail of bullets that drove the two robed men back. The men tried to defend themselves, pillars of light and shields of shimmering air appeared in front of them, stopping bullets at the last minute. But the men couldn’t sit still, Jackson was not going easy on them.

Seeing the two robed men were distracted, Jill tried to keep one eye on the woman called Cecile, took aim, and waited for the perfect shot. But it was a mistake.

Thump.

With the sound of a corked bottle popping the woman with the red dress, materialized in front of Jill. Her grin wicked and her hand outstretched as if reaching for her soul.

Jill cursed under her breath and ripped herself from aiming at the men and fired a bundle of rounds point blank at the woman.

Cecile threw up a glassy screen that shattered when it was impacted by the bullets, and took a few steps back, managing to escape unharmed. She had a playful grin on her face and advanced again trying to seize Jill’s wrist.

Jillian dropped backwards and pumped a handful rounds out. The woman in red seemed to be made of paper, she elegantly blew in the breeze avoiding Jill’s shots. But Jill’s pistol had plenty of ammo to spare. She fired continuously. Shot after shot rang out.

Cecile’s face went from playful to neutral. Then from neutral to strained.

Then finally blood and a scream.

One of Jillian’s bullets ripped through Cecile’s shoulder, Jillian took advantage of the reprieve and slapped the side of her pistol while creating distance between them. Flaps opened from the side of the gun like a plane as steam whooshed out into the air — cooling down the firing mechanism. She didn't have time to finish of Cecile, Jack needed help. Jill quickly moved towards Jackson, whose pistol was rapidly overheating as he struggled to keep the two robed men at bay. They seemed to be less powerful than Cecile and incapable of this teleportation business. If not for that…

Jill shuddered at the thought. Then put it from her mind. She took aim and punched a couple buttons. Her pistol hummed with energy. She braced herself and squeezed the trigger, aiming for the closest enemy.

BANG!

The sound was almost three times as loud as an ordinary shot. Two rounds whistled through the air and the force from the blast almost knocked her to the ground. The robed man tilted his head back, evading one of the high velocity rounds. But he didn't see the second one coming in at a low angle. The super-charged shot punctured through one of his calves and he shouted in agony, clutching his leg, trying to stimmy the bleeding from the apple-sized hole in his leg.

“Jackson, tactical retreat!” She screamed at the top of her lungs. She punched her gun open again, steam poured out as her mind raced. They can dodge bullets… all bloody hell… they can dodge bullets.

Jackson nodded and let loose with some suppressing fire on the last man standing, when Cecile shouted over the din of battle.

“Didn’t you hear me idiots! I said we only need the girl alive.” Cecile tore one of her necklaces off and slapped it to the ground, a blue bubble shot up around her. She shoved her fingers into the wound on her shoulder and tried to dig out the chunk of metal. She scowled through the pain and raged, “Kill them!”

Dammit, shut up woman! Jill screamed in her mind and fired a couple shots. Jill was startled. This new shield didn’t even react to her bullets. This is bad… “JACKSON!” She shouted.

Cecile’s eyes were wide with fury, if she didn’t put up that shield she would be dead. The metal slug in her shoulder had made her left arm useless. Murderous intent flashed in her eyes as she pulled a vial from her dress and gulped its contents, shouting, “Kill the man dammit!” Her flesh began to knit together.

Jill's jaw opened in shock. The surprise drawing her attention away from Jackson's assailants.

The man with the injured calk gruffly snorted under his breath, “You should have said something from the beginning.” He lifted a finger and casually pointed it at Jack. He grinned maliciously, “Illuminate and burn!”

A blue beam of light streak through the air like an angry thunderbolt. It was fast and hot like a laser. The light sizzled with heat as it burned a hole through Jackson’s head.

“Jack—” Jill turned and saw the charred wound in her friend’s skull.

Jackson’s neck went limp. His face froze. There was no blood. Only the smell. The sound. The sight. Of death.

Jillian heard a scream. It was her own.

Jack turned his head and looked at Jillian, she was screaming and firing violently at the robed men. But between protective barriers and quick movements her attacks were futile. Her calm and collected demeanour which gave her the initial victory was nowhere to be seen.

Jack felt his body drop to the ground. He tried to reach a hand to touch his head, but he couldn’t muster the strength. He locked eyes with Jillian as he fell. He smiled.

Down.

Down.

Down.

His face was in the dirt.

He breathed his last.

And died.