Crimson Flare : A Journey Begins

Chapter 1: Cold Planet.

"U.E.D.F Station 81, this is Crimson Flare requesting permission to land. Over." The comlink crackled with static, but there was no response.

"U.E.D.F Station 81, this is Crimson Flare requesting permission to land. Do you read me? Over." Still met with silence, I sighed and proceeded with my approach vector. "Well, I'd rather face a fine than run dry when I'm in desperate need of fuel," I muttered to myself.

With a ship like mine, landing was a breeze. My old man always said, "You're only as good as the tools you have," so I made sure my baby had it all. Dual quad plasma cannons, an arsenal of warhead missiles, reinforced dura-steel plating, and an expanded cargo hold with clever hiding compartments for all your smuggling needs.

My father, a U.E.D.F science officer, was the absentee type, always too busy on base to attend my baseball games or spend time with family. He would have wanted me to follow in his footsteps and join the U.E.D.F, but he wasn't there during my formative years.

Instead, my future was shaped by the crew of a smuggling freighter, where I learned to survive and thrive. Now in my late twenties, I was a skilled smuggler, and this unexpected communication blackout didn't sit right with me.

Colony X-81, one of the five terraformed planets, was a desolate world of dirt and ferocious storms. I had been here a few times to assist the locals, if you could call them that, and it was a far cry from the idyllic white sandy beaches of colony H-21.

As my Kordian mentor, Old Scave, used to say, "If there's profit to be made, there's only one way to go about it." Kordians always found a way to turn anything into a lucrative venture. Scave was quite the character, one of the best smugglers I ever knew.

Breaking through the planet's atmosphere, I sensed that something was amiss as I approached the lone city colony. No landing beacons, no lights-absolute darkness. My gut told me to turn back, but I desperately needed fuel to reach the next colony.

I touched down near the refueling station, unbuckled myself from the pilot's chair, and reached for my armored vest. As I strapped it on, I made my way to the armory. Now came the age-old debate: which weapon?

Among my choices, I opted for my trusty 44 Magnum laser pistol and a sawed-off plasma shotgun for situations requiring a bit of crowd control. Once equipped, I donned my worn brown leather duster and an old cowboy hat, opened the hatch, and stepped out into the "charming weather." By that, I meant a torrential downpour that limited visibility to a mere two feet.

Leaving the boarding ramp behind, I approached the refueling station and pushed open the door. "Hey, anyone here? Are your comms out?" I called out, surveying the empty premises. Not a single soul in sight, just an abandoned building. Being the inquisitive type, I walked over to the computer terminal, only to remember that the power was out, rendering the backup systems useless. I sighed in frustration, grabbed a copy of the colony map, and located the power station.

"Hmm... seems like a pleasant stroll through town to the center," I mumbled, scanning a copy of the map into my Personal Data Pad (PDP). I slipped on a pair of glasses, linking them to the PDP, granting me a mini-map with real-time location data. If only it could play music simultaneously, life would be grand.

I ventured through the main gate, but the streets were deserted-like a ghost town. Gripping my pistol tightly, I made my way down Main Street. Every building was empty, including the pub. Half-filled glasses stood as a testament to the vanished colonists, as if they had just evaporated from their seats.

The closer I drew to the power station, the more my gut feeling intensified. Finally inside, I descended to the operations office and, with a flick of a switch, restored power. It was a simple task, but the mystery of the missing inhabitants continued to gnaw at me.

Racing back to the refueling station, my sole objective was to replenish my ship and report my findings to the local magistrate. I may be a smuggler, but occasionally I tried to do some good in the world.

As I connected the fuel lines to my ship, a sudden screech echoed from across town. The spine-tingling sound was unlike anything I had ever heard before, and it sent shivers down my spine.

I hastily abandoned the refueling process and rushed back inside the station, glancing at the monitor. Five minutes remained until the refueling was complete. I cursed under my breath and set my watch for the countdown, sprinting outside toward the main gate.

Just as I reached the gate, I saw it-a creature unlike any I had encountered before. Its tanned skin, razor-sharp tusks, and ferocious build reminded me of the werewolf books I devoured as a child. Without hesitation, I fired a round from my pistol, and the creature fell lifeless to the ground.

A triumphant smirk crept across my face. "Well, that was easier than I thought," I said aloud, abruptly interrupted as a flood of similar creatures turned the corner, charging toward me.

In a panic, I darted toward the gate controls and closed the massive entrance just in time. "Well, this just got a whole lot worse," I muttered to myself, rushing back to the refueling station. Glancing at my watch, I realized I had two minutes remaining as the gate vibrated with the force of their onslaught.

"Screw this!" I exclaimed. I detached the fueling line, leaped on board my ship, sealed the hatch, and made a frantic dash to the cockpit. With the emergency lift-off sequence initiated, I rocketed into the sky, leaving X-81 behind.

As swiftly as I had come, I departed, making sure those creatures were trapped on the forsaken planet. Activating the main turret, I unleashed a barrage of fire, obliterating the power station. It triggered a nuclear explosion, leveling everything within a 200-mile radius.

I placed my hat on the console and plotted a course for the nearest colony, determined never to look back at X-81. The only thought occupying my mind was the fate of those unfortunate souls who lost their lives there. It felt like a repetition of Earth and Mars all over again.

I reached for a bottle of whiskey, seeking solace in its numbing embrace. Memories threatened to flood back, and it would be a long eighteen hours before I reached the next colony.