Chapter 1
This account was put together by Staff sergeant Kiko Edwards and Major Anne Burley, of the Extensive Space Exploration Unit (ESEU) with the help of the writer (who shall remain anonymous). It is based on extensive interviews, recordings, first-hand accounts and historical records put together over several decades. It has been translated from a variety of languages into the human language, English.
THE VEIL….
Our known universe is a vast, ever expanding creation, full of countless moons, planets, solar-systems and galaxies, sprawling across the vast chasm of space, far and wide, further than any human has ever dared or been able to travel.
But if one of our own did ever venture to the far reaches of our known universe, what they would find would shake the very pillars of knowledge on which our society, and our world, are built on. For at this point, they would encounter The Veil. A barrier, a fissure, a mirror like split between two universes born of different times. If they were to make the perilous, deadly journey beyond The Veil, they would discover what came before our universe, before the Big Bang……a vast, original but lawless universe, that closely resembles our own, except this universe is facing a never-ending battle with time itself, a battle that threatens to rip everything apart down to the molecules that make them up. A universe full of unrest, species at war with one another and worlds at war with time and gravity itself. The Veil is the battle line drawn between two times, two universes, invisible and unrelenting……..
CHAPTER 1
“Name!” barked the Boa-Kan enforcer manning the ration station at the end of the Jahuk, or mess hall in human tongue.
“Hess.” muttered the tall, giant armed creature stood opposite the Boa-Kan.
The enforcer looked up, the tusks protruding from his foaming mouth like mountain peaks would from a valley. He growled, letting Hess see a large row of similarly huge and gnarled teeth that lined the bottom of his jaw.
“Full name, ya Muk!”
Hess knew exactly what he meant by Muk, but chose to ignore this, knowing there would be worse to come.
“Hess-Moak-Jin-01……but you already knew that didn’t you?” Hess replied sarcastically, having already suffered the indignity of revealing to all of the residents of the Jahuk on that day that he was not, in fact, a Boa-Kan, several, several times.
As was usual, especially when this particular enforcer was manning the Jahuk, Hess was made to feel as alone and out of place as practically possible. Now many of the large, hulking masses that had their backs to him a moment ago, turned around to see what all the fuss was about. It was pretty obvious Hess wasn’t a Boa-Kan……just one look at the fin that ran from his head down his spine would tell you that. But what this enforcer, who went by the name of Kihor, revelled in, was reminding all around Hess that he did not belong here, and that he should be looked upon with disdain.
“You wanna watch that slimy tongue of yours Muk, ya hear me?” snarled Kihor, now rising from his seat.
“Listen hear fellas…..our lil’ Muk here doesn’t know he should watch his tongue around us……and his back!”
As Kihor said this, he prodded his giant finger into the flesh of Hess’s chest, pushing him back, bringing several roars of approval from the mass of Boa-Kan’s watching on, loving the fact that this outsider, as they saw him, was again getting a hard time. Hess rolled his eyes, and chose to move back from the table, knowing it wouldn’t do him any good to have another mark on his card on this Flare run.
“You’re lucky to be getting anything you Ja’Muk!” snapped another voice stood just behind him.
This voice belonged to an even bigger Boa-Kan who went by the name of Vonos. Hess sighed, before sitting his tray down on the side.
“Yeah, that’s me. Now can I have my ration Kihor?” he asked impatiently, ignoring Vonos and looking again at Kihor.
The aggravated enforcer finally obliged, slapping a barely edible pile of Hushuk onto his plate. As he did, Vonos slammed his giant, Boa-Kan fist into Hess’s side, sending him crashing into the side of the counter, and sending his Hushuk (a mushed up brown substance that was supposed to be food) flying to the floor. This brought a cascade of cheers and laughter from the now baying audience, revelling the chance to see another scrap on the rig. Hess composed himself before clambering to his feet, and making a desperate attempt to rescue the last bit of Hushuk that had been saved from splattering onto the floor, by the container it was in. As Hess finally got to his feet, Vonos again aimed a giant fist towards him, this time heading towards the Moak’s head. This time however, Hess reached up with his equally giant hand, and grabbed the Boa-Kan’s fist mid-air, stopping it dead as he did. Vonos grimaced, using all his strength to try and send his fist flying into his nemesis’s temple, but the incredibly strong Hess stood strong, motionless, and holding Vonos’s intense gaze. As soon as it became apparent that neither was going to budge, and fearful of his superiors walking in any minute, Kihor swatted the two fists away from each other with a giant kitchen utensil he had in his hand.
“That’s enough!” he barked, as the two finally released their gaze from one another, and Hess stoically moved on.
“Just better watch your mouth next time boy!” Vonos snivelled before waving Hess along with his hand, with Hess duly obliging this time, knowing anymore violence would surely be blamed solely on him.
Its true, Hess didn’t belong here. He was a Moak, working with a horde of Boa-Kan, the most feared race in the universe, on a Flare-station based right next to a Ba’akul. He couldn’t have been further from home if he tried, and he was reminded of that daily. He still cursed his mother for sending him here to work with this cartel when he was just a child, although he had since realised why she had done it. His home world, Jin, had been on the verge of imploding ever since he was born, and his mother knew he stood a better chance of a full life out here, than down on Jin.
Still, he thought he stood a better chance down there than here. And to this day, his task was still the same.
“I’m gonna get off this hell-hole soon, and I’m coming back for you Mehru” he muttered to himself as he ate.
From the day Hess had begun working as a Flare-catcher, he had vowed to work off his debt to Roku, the leader of Kar-Bokk cartel, and rescue his mother from Jin. He had now been working for the Kar-Bokk for 25 lunes (about 13 years to us humans). As well as another 14 lunes in a different Ba’akul. 39 lunes slogging his guts out for the same cartel who took him from his mother and told him that he would never see her again. Hess scrunched his giant, scale-covered hands together, fuming at the this thought, before eventually releasing his grip, and realising he had crushed the flimsy metal utensil that he had been given to eat his Hushuk with.
“Soon, very soon….” He muttered once again.
The Flare-rig that Hess was working on currently, was in full operational order today, which meant three extra shifts for him, which was good news. More shifts, more units. More units meant he was inching closer to having the amount needed to fund his mothers death-pass.
The Rig, or “The Mugroah”, as it was affectionally called by its crew members, which translated as “Shouter”, was a giant, roaring beast of a creation, and was set up into three main compartments. The first, and largest section of the rig was the Conversion Tank. This is where the Flares would be guided into by the Hunters, and then compressed in the tank in order to keep control of it. The tank was built with 1 metre thick walls in order to contain the power of the flares, which would burn through and incinerate most materials. The second is the Loading room. This is where the Flares are then contained into huge, metal silo like containers, each with gauges on the side, which showed the potency level of the flares, and therefore determined their value. And the third main section of the Rig, and where Hess happened to work, was what was always referred to as the Ledge.
Hess, now donned in his Bokgarb, which was his protective hunter suit, strolled out onto the Ledge, alongside nine other Flare-Hunters working that shift. Hess was the only Moak working that shift, so found himself stood alongside nine Boa-Kan, all who looked at him with the same disdain the enforcer did. He happened to be the only Moak working on this rig at all, and one of only two currently employed by the Kar-Bok.
“Latch on!” bellowed a voice from the speakers attached to railings that ran along the wall that formed the front of the conversion tank, which backed onto the Ledge. Upon hearing this, each Hunter un-coiled a long, thick coil from the back of their Bokgarb’s, and attached the metal clasp that was fixed to the end of it, to the large solid railings that were fixed to the floor of the Ledge.
“Ray’s primed!” came the next instruction.
Hess now un-hooked a large, heavy, gun-like tool from his midriff, one that required two arms to carry it. For Hess, he only required one, such was the size and strength of his huge arms. Ideal of swimming on Jin. And for Flare-catching it turned out.
The task ahead of Hess and his team was simple. Divert the giant, incredibly powerful and deadly solar flares into the Flare-tunnel (a huge, funnel like contraption fixed to the floor of the ledge, connected to huge ducts that fed into the conversion tank), using their Bokrods. Simple. The difficulty was maintaining any kind of control once their boots became unhooked from the Ledge floor, and they were sailing around in space, trying to avoid being burned alive, with nothing more than a coil of Mentot steel holding them from drifting off into space, all this while also holding onto giant, gravity sucking Bokrods.
Hess gripped the Bokrod tight with one giant hand, and with the other, leant down ready to unhook his boots, which was done by flicking a lever on the side, releasing the gravity on them. A very faint grin appeared across his face as he did so. He was ready for this. He always was. It was, by now, something he could pretty much do in his sleep. It annoyed the hell out of his Bohrokk colleagues that he was so good at his job, which made it even more appealing for him. He was desperate to free his mother and get away from this vile rig…..but boy was this next bit fun, he thought to himself.
“Release! Release! Release” screamed the voice for the last time, and as it did, Hess went flying off into space.
The Rig took a sharp turn as he did so, correcting itself to slowly face this particular stars biggest flurry of solar flares. As the Rig turned its full turn, a giant, burning ray of heat and light cannoned towards the Ledge, crashing into its front as it did so. With the reflexes of a seasoned Flame-hunter, Hess and two other Boa-Kan Hunters were already in position to catch this flare, and as the flare hit the Ledge, the three hunters powered up their Bokrod’s, pulling the flares towards them as they did. Hess bellowed at his two colleagues to follow his lead, and they duly obliged.
“Tuck it under and come round my side!” he screamed, beckoning the two to pull the flare round to him.
Hess began to lower himself back down to the Ledge, pulling with all his strength as he did so, and pulling the Flare down with him. The tunnel was within reach now, it would just take one more giant pull to get it in line and allow the tunnel to suck the flares in. Just as Hess was about to pull it across, the flare jumped once more, sending a second, smaller flare jumping out from the main ray, splicing the one Boa-Kan colleague in half as it did so.
“Abort! Abort!!” screamed the other hunter, threatening to release his Bokrod.
“Nooooo! We have it! If you abort we’ll lose the flare!” yelled Hess, and as he did, he released another coil from the back of his suit, which fed down to the Ledge floor, and latched itself on automatically.
This time, now with double the force pulling him back down, he used all the Moak strength he was born with, and pulled the flare down far enough so the tunnel finally latched on, pulling the flare through into the ducts, and bellowing into the tank behind. The sheer power of the solar flare cannoning through the ducts made the whole Ledge shake, with many of the Bohrokk’s looking on now clasping the railings that prevented them from dropping down onto the perilous ledge.
Hess, now with his feet back on the ground, looked around him to see several other Boa-Kan workers dragging the two singed parts of his deceased colleague back inside. This was not an uncommon site. Deaths like this were a regular occurrence, and the risk of being incinerated, cut in half, burnt to within an inch of your life, or any other way of dying by fire you can think of…..were just part of the job.
Hess flicked the lever back to its original position on his boots, and they gripped the surface of the ledge once-more. As he adjusted the settings on the heavy Bokrod he was still holding, in readiness for the next flare that would be coming any minute now, he noticed one his fellow Flare-Hunters heading in his direction, barking something in the Boa-Kan dialect as he did so.
“Here we go….” Hess muttered under his breath, pretending not to notice him.
“OI! YOU!!!” bellowed the onrushing Boa-Kan, steaming towards Hess who had continued to act like he hadn’t noticed him. “You see what you just did?! That was my brother ya Muk!”
The Boa-Kan was now screeching, and waving his arms about in anguish as he did. Hess was still re-configuring his Bokrod, but had made sure to keep one of his big dark black eyes on the big Flare-hunter. Just as the Boa-Kan was upon him, and had both arms up ready to grab Hess, the Moak swivelled round towards him, pointing the Bok-rod squarely at the Boa-Kan’s chest, causing him to halt immediately.
“Come any closer Ferko and I will blow a hole right through the middle of you…” exclaimed Hess, firmly but calmly.
The belligerent Ferko was virtually foaming at the mouth, but reluctantly obliged with Hess’s request. He lowered his one giant fist to his side, growling as he did so, but continued to point the other at Hess.
“You damm stupid Moak Muk! You got my brother killed!” he once again barked.
The commotion at got the attention of a few other Flare-hunters and guards who were busy preparing the ledge for the next flare. Nothing drew attention on a Mugroah quite like a confrontation.
“You can’t take control like that! I TOLD YOU TO ABORT!” he shouted once again, his voice becoming louder and irater with each passing second.
The onlooking workers now began to circle behind Hess, forcing the Bok-rod wielding Moak back against the barrier that separated the Mugroah and the singed flare fields around Rakith-8.
“I didn’t abort because otherwise we would have lost the flare…….you know that Ferko.” Hess answered, as he still backed up, close enough so he could feel the cold surface of the barrier against his back.
“I don’t care what you think would have happened Moak scum! You have no right to be on this Rig in the first place!” he bellowed.
“Well clearly neither did your brother if he worked like that….” Hess quipped, which caused Ferko to finally explode and lunge at Hess.
Hess brought the bottom end of the Bokrod up and it crashed into Ferko’s face, sending him flying across the ledge in front of them. Just as Hess had begun to steady himself and come away from the ledge, one of the approaching Boa-Kan guards had jumped at him from behind, knocking the Bokrod free from his grasp. He had locked Hess’s arms under his own massive biceps, while another had come in from the opposite side, and charged into Hess’s midriff with his shoulder, knocking the wind out of the big Moak.
“I’m gonna make you regret the day your muk mother gave birth to you Moak scum!” yelled Ferko, above the constant hum and churning of the Rig behind them.
He wiped the blood away from his jaw, and proceeded to land a procession of heavy blows to the face of Hess and his stomach. Hess had endured leuns of this, so it was nothing new to him, and he simply clenched his jaw and attempted to soften the blows by forcing his elbows inwards, blocking a few of the sickening punches. In between the blows, Hess noticed Ferko had lifted the weight off his one leg, and Hess flung out with a strong kick of his muscular leg, knocking the leg out from under Ferko and sending him again tumbling to the ground.
The two Boa-Kans, enraged by Hess once again getting the better of one of their own, yanked him back and shoved him up against the barrier, and attempted to lift him over it and out into deep space. Hess’s boots remained locked to the surface, but were at risk of being ripped loose by the immense strength of the two Boa-Kans, before a loud siren rang out over the ledge. The siren signalled the incoming flare.
Hess used it as a chance to shrug himself free of the two of them, and headed back over to where his Bokrod had been knocked loose, and tether himself back to the Ledge. The remaining Boa-Kans scurried to lift Ferko off the ground, and began sprinting back over to their stations before the Flare hit, in fear of what would happen if they weren’t at their station.
“I’ll get you off this Rig Moak, you hear me muk!” Ferko shouted over his shoulder, still clasping at his injured jawbone.
Hess brushed himself down and wiped a steady stream of his own blood that had begun trickling down from the lobe on the side of his head, and shook himself down. He glanced up to notice the commander of the Mugroah, a fearsome Boa-Kan named Von-Kul, had come out onto the Ledge to oversee the next flare run.Just as Hess had noticed him, the next flare erupted from Rakith-8, and made its way towards the ledge, ready for the Flare-catchers to once again leap from the surface.
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Hess and his cohorts went on to perform the same routine at least two dozen times that shift, filling the Rig’s compression tank full of super-powerful solar flares, ready to be compressed down into their capsules.
This was Hess’s routine, day after day. For what he did, considering it was the most dangerous job in the universe, aside from Veil-kreeping (where crews would stupidly attempt to cross the dreaded veil illegally), you would think he would have made the money he needed to free his mother ten times over by now. But sadly Boa-Kans looked after their own, as was clear from the earlier exchange, and Hess’s pay reflected that. That day, as he made his way forward to the collections counter, and submitted his shift-totem, 10 measly deijns were dispatched into his giant three digited hand.
“Mon-hapha!!” he spat out, a curse word in his local Moak dialect.
Something had to give he thought to himself, as he made his way back to the tiny room that was assigned to him on the Mugroah.
Fate has been unkind to me for far too long……he muttered under his breath as he lay across the small, rickety platform that acted as his bed in the room. His upper body was still badly bruised from the beating he had taken from Ferko at the beginning of the shift, and the pain regularly caused him to turn over on his opposite side to rest. The Moak had a saying…….Joa’mil sunar ki’hail unae………which in human tongue translates as “The dawn will come for the one who has patience”. Every time Hess sank back into his bed, he prayed to the mighty Moak’ili, a spiritual figure in the Moak culture, for the dawn to come the next day. Up until now, it never had.
