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Cosmic Tales 1: Resurrection, Page 4

Richard C. Parr


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  More than a few heads turned when a turquoise reptilian female descended the steps into the crammed taverna. Firstly, the bartender lowered the music. Secondly, the groups sat at the tables interrupted their business conversations to assess the alien creature. Thirdly, a waitress froze in front of her holding tray of drinks and completely blocking her path. They exchanged a fleeting false smile, looked each other up and down, and then the bartender spoke over the lowered chatter.

  "If it isn't Rodeena. What are you today? A salmon? A pig fly? A monkey?"

  "Good guess, Gin," she said, swaying towards the bar and leaning over a drunk who could only slobber and slip off his stool. She took his seat, presenting a hat on the bar filled with notes and coins. Gin picked some up and flipped them over against the light.

  "Military currency. So you weren't kidding after all."

  "There's over five hundred there. You wanted three hundred."

  "Then why don't I take, say...four hundred, and you can treat yourself with the rest?"

  "You always have been a scoundrel," she said with a grin of hatred. "When can you clear the airspace for projection?"

  "For you, I'll get my team to arrange passing right away. Are you certain that metallic thing, what you call it - The Chrome Tampon - can even make it into space?"

  "I swear one of these days we'll land on a planet and not be able to take off again."

  "If that's the case, Rodeena, I have some friends at the yard who can scramble together components and make a much needed design update to your ship. Maybe even get rid of that scoundrel of a Captain."

  The platinum in his teeth gleamed as he smiled.

  "As much as I despise him, he's very useful. As for the ship, he is very possessive of the things he holds dearest."

  "Has he managed to hold you yet?"

  "Not a chance of that happening, Gin."

  Rodeena took the hundred in notes and helped the drunk back on to his stool, who promptly told Gin that he was a professional pilot and was running late for work.

  Later, Rodeena was standing outside gazing up at the sky. She watched the myriad of ships passing in random directions. She counted down mentally, checking her watch, and sure enough, just when Gin said, a gap was created. The sea of vessels parted to allow The Chromium Bullet to surface, not without clipping the wings of a couple of ships on its uncontrolled descent. Rodeena sighed and walked up the ramp, into the warmth and away from a planet she loved and cherished. The locking vibration of the ramp echoed through her stomach and she winced.

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  Elwood, 234, Rodeena and Bink stood over the sarcophagus, listening to the threats of the agitated man inside. Rodeena reached into her pocket and brought out an ancient key, much to the guilt of 234. She inserted it into a small hole on the panel, felt a click, and it took her and Elwood to swing the lid of the sarcophagus open. The inhabitant was revealed - or in this case, the inhabitants.

  Captain Phoenix Wingclipper was lying sideways, being spooned by the mummified skeletal remains of a historical King, with hands wrapped around his abdomen and a bandaged face buried into his neck.

  "234, I am going to deactivate you," said Wingclipper. "The rest of you, I'm very, very sorry for putting you through all of this. I promise this will never happen again."

  "That's what you said last time," said Rodeena.

  "Ok, well. If we forget about this incident, then technically I have kept my promise. You have to see the bigger picture here. We are a great team, and sometimes that means enduring levels of stress that you would find in deep committed relationships."

  "You've cheated on all of your girlfriends," said Rodeena.

  "Not twice have I been unfaithful, Rodeena. Now help me get out, refuel my ship and we can go on to our next destination. Money please, madame."

  "Nah ah, Wingclipper. I earned this."

  "Oh, come on. Remember how we agreed to split things pretty evenly? I want my 75%"

  Instead of helping, everyone retreated to the cockpit, leaving the Captain to be cuddled by a member of a historic race.

  "Hey, team. Don't go away. See the bright side of this. Stay positive because we need each other. We got through this mess and from now on we won't be getting into any more trouble. I absolutely promise you. Get me out of here, we can refuel, then I can find some entertainment. I mean, I can refuel and then we can find some entertainment. Let's go to Casino City. What do you say? Team?"

  They were already in the command room eating, starved from their ordeal and their spirits severely dampened.

  "At least you're my friend," said Wingclipper, moving the mummy's hand a bit higher to his chest. "That's better." The mummy's rib cage and arm bones fell apart, and Wingclipper was left holding a dislodged hand.

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  Written by Richard C. Parr

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  About the Author

  Richard C. Parr was born in 1986 in England and lives in Nottingham. He has travelled to 20 countries and runs a blog at HumanEmbodiment.com.

  Contact Me

  Email: [email protected]

  Twitter: @HumanEmbodiment

  Thank you for reading. Your support is always appreciated!