Snippet #1540077

The two massive Gorags escorted the two much-smaller Nambians through a small dirt path toward the waiting ship as the light faded on the small planet of Pomas. The pair of Gorags each wore large leather vests that covered the huge torsos of their seven-foot frame . Their giant size and sweltering tropical heat caused sweat to flow down their green-tinted skin. Occasionally they would remove their helmets to wipe their foreheads. They held their plasma guns pointed toward the duo walking several yards ahead. The two Nambians struggled to keep up with the pace of the Gorags, being shoved forward when they slowed down.

"Please don't take me away from my family," Disex pleaded with his captors in their native language. "They're all I have. They need me," he begged as he spun around, throwing his hands up in desperation. One of the Gorags swung his plasma gun with both hands, smacking Disex on the side of the head. The impact knocked him backward on the ground. Blood began to trickle down the dark-beige skin of his face.

"On your feet," one of the Gorags snarled as he stood over the fallen Nambian. Disex, like most Nambians, was at least two feet shorter than Gorags and much slimmer. He knew he stood no chance against them unarmed. "I said on your feet." he repeated louder as he kicked the downed man with his large boot.

Disex slowly crawled to his feet and wiped the blood from his forehead and moved his long, dark hair from his face. He began marching again with his friend, Moolan. Moolan had long ago accepted his fate and never questioned or struggled against the Gorags. He was emotionally defeated after the Gorags had taken his entire family away to work as slaves for the rest of their lives many years ago. His identical fate was happening now. He knew resistance was futile and would only cause problems. Despite being close and knowing each other for over two decades, this was a matter the two men disagreed on. Disex still had some hope and fight buried deep within.

As they rounded the corner the light-brown ship came into view. The fifteen foot craft sat quietly on the small concrete pad in a clearing of the forest. As they reached the ship one of the Gorags entered a code on the keypad on the rear of the vessel. Suddenly the back raised upward as a small ramp lowered. "Get on," the large humanoid barked at the two men.

Disex suddenly bent over and screamed in pain while clutching his stomach, slowly falling to his knees as he leaned forward on the ground. The two Gorags looked at each other confused as one of them finally approached the man from behind. "Up," he said with a scowl as he lightly kicked him in the rear. The man laid motionless, howling in pain. The Gorag walked to the side of him and bent over slightly, drawing closer. "I said get..."

Disex suddenly launched his hands toward the Gorag, throwing fists of dirt into his face and eyes. The massive captor stumbled back a few feet, wiping his eyes with his free hand. The Nambian quickly leaped up and charged the huge Gorag, grabbing the plasma gun with both hands. The giant used his other hand to take control of the weapon. The other Gorag raised his weapon and took aim on the man. He placed his finger on the trigger and was about to squeeze. Suddenly Moolan, not wanting to see his good friend killed, leaped high in the air onto the back of the other Gorag, wrapping his thin arms around his massive neck and tightened his grip while kicking him fiercely kicking the Gorag in his ribs with his bare feet.

Disex struggled violently to free the plasma gun from the giant hands of his enemy. He gave up two feet of height and well over two-hundred pounds but was determined to wrestle away the weapon. Disex struggled with all his might but felt the gun slipping from his grip. Feeling desperation setting in, Disex released one of his hands from the weapon and lunged his small fingers into the left eye of the Gorag. The giant screamed out in agony as he grabbed his eye with both hands, leaving the weapon in sole control of the Nambian. Without hesitating Disex raised the plasma gun and fired. The energized matter burst from the muzzle and exploded into the chest of the Gorag. The impact threw the massive humanoid off his feet and onto his back. Smoke and steam rose from the hole in his chest as he lay motionless.

Moolan struggled to hang on his back as the Gorag shook back and forth with tremendous force, tossing him around like a rag doll. Finally with one final heave, Moolan lost his grip and slid off landing on his rear. The angry Gorag expressed an evil grin as he coolly took aim on the shaken Nambian.

"Die you Nambian scum," he growled.

The plasma gun cracked a loud noise in the remote area as Moolan closed his eyes. Flashes of his wife and daughter scanned past his mind in an instant. Visions of past memories whirled around in his head. Picnics, dinners, birthdays, anniversaries and happy times all attacked his senses as he longed to hold them both once more.

Suddenly Moolan opened his eyes.

The Gorag laid slumped face-down flat on the dirt. The burning skin around the gaping wound in his back caused smoke to rise off of him. Through the haze he saw Disex facing him fifteen yards away with his legs spread slightly and the plasma gun gripped in his hands aiming straight ahead.

Disex lowered the weapon and rushed to his friend's side and crouched down. "Are you OK?"

"Yes," Moolan said softly as he blinked.

Disex grabbed his arm and helped him up. The two looked around, surveying the damage and contemplating the consequences of their actions.

"Moolan," Disex said to his friend while staring at the dead Gorag he killed first, "I'm afraid I've put us both in grave danger."

"No," Moolan responded while gazing up at the darkening sky at the three moons glowing in a spread-out arc. "You just killed every Nambian on Pomas."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The eight astronauts of the Lewis and Clark, a medium-sized spaceship who is ten days away from making her maiden voyage where she will take a crew to Mars where they will be the first humans to walk on the planet's surface, receive a message on their NASA pagers. The page says "9090" which means they are to report immediately to the Kennedy Space Center. Protocol says when sent that message to be on site within one hour.

The astronauts had just arrived in Florida the day prior from Texas where they had been training for the past eighteen months for their historical mission. It's a miserable summer Saturday late-afternoon. The rains have been dousing Brevard county for the past three days. Severe thunderstorms have plagued the entire day as lightning cracked all around in the dark, cloudy sky. Because of the severity of the weather news outlets are warning residents in Brevard and the surrounding counties to stay indoors unless it's absolutely necessary to leave your home.

The eight astronauts are relaxing in their separate but adjoining rooms at a hotel in Cocoa Beach, not terribly far from the KSC located in Merritt Island. They have just received their pages as the rain beats against the windows.