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Rimwalker

By Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly All Rights Reserved ©

Scifi / Other

Part 1: Chapter 1: The Sigmorius Crown’

The dust fell to the floor as the tired and hungry adventurer whacked his boots, carefully mind you, so as not to damage the valued assets too much, against the side of his spacecraft, the Wolfklaw. Rimwalker was pleased; very pleased. He could count the Arcturian credits already, and visualised, amongst other riches, his time in the arms of the tender, blue skinned Arcturian beauties that were always ever so lavish in their adorations. He patted his satchel which was hanging from his shoulder, ever so careful with his prize. For millennia the Arcturian council had posted rewards for the return of their beloved Sigmorius crown, the most revered of the ancient royal jewels of the united kingdoms of Arcturia. And Rimwalker had tracked it down, strangely enough of all places which were his usual haunt, right out on the edge of the galactic rim. Draxian piracy had looted the crown long ago and, tracing old records and rumours about the crown, he had found information on Telos 17 that the Drax had an old lair on Karnak, a mostly uninhabited desert planet on the edge of the rim. Rimwalker had spent days surveying the continents of the planet, going over countless mounds of dirt with his scanners, looking for significant manmade structures. At the northern and southern poles of the planets plant-life existed with a small number of native animal species, but apparently the air was to thin on the planet for any more advanced species to really want to inhabit the place. Rimwalker had decided that he would scan the desert regions first, before the more complex greenery as there was not too much of that so he would leave it to last. Fortunately, one week into his scans by the galactic calendar he had found a series of obviously manmade structures and had investigated. It was an abandoned Drax lair alright and searching through the place he found countless worthless coins, far out of date, from various cultures, with not a sign of gold coinage or other precious metal amongst them. Any other type of currency seemed to have long faded. But finally, after almost giving up, he looked under an old metal bunk and found a small box containing his desired prize. For whatever reason the Drax had they had long ago given up on their prize and it was now his to claim. Putting it into his satchel he had climbed out of the ruins and was now dusting off his boots, breathing carefully through his oxygen mask as the air was too thin to breathe this far south from the northern pole. He pressed a button on his wristpad and the doors of the Wolfklaw on the bottom deck opened up. He came inside, closed the doors and took his prize to the central station deck to look it over. Sitting there he examined pictures he had of the original crown and looked at his copy. All things seemed correct. It had the right markings and looked practically identical apart from a little wear and tear. Yep, he had the crown alright. The reward would be his. He went to the wall of his command station, opened his safe, and carefully placed his prize inside. And now straight to Arcturia, a billion Arcturian credits and the sexual pleasures of the most decadent of Arcturian whores.

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