Sci/Fi Landing Pad

Well, Bob, I really liked this. I hope I helped more than I did on my first review of Blinder. I was going to continue with the second chapter of Blinder but it seems you made the whole thing private, I thought you had only made chapter 1 private. Anyway, on to this. This insectlike species is amazingly written with their castes and your descriptions. I will be back for more of this. I found some minor things below. One little pov thing. Oh, hey, don’t cringe please. I was gentle. Your universe in this is absolutely fabulous. Thanks for posting and sharing.

Dragon

** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **



As Second Sun’s light broke over the low hills, crept over the flower fields, then bathed the white domes of Council Keep, First Pro-Councilman Charon admired himself in a mirror. His official crest reflected bright red and gold in the small star’s intense rays. It was carved a full two talons above his military rank, leaving room for future achievements.
Missing was the ten-turn he’d acted as Lord P’Zor’s protector and liaison. This could not be added until after the Lord Protector’s natural death. Rising to his present position didn’t absolve Charon of his sworn duty to protect the Councilman. The physical duty he’d entrusted to other Warriors, but the ultimate responsibility still rested in his claws.

Raising his antennae, Charon spread their feathery receptors, tasting the air. Yesterday’s banquet affirming his election still lingered. The aroma of Preserved Sun Flower nectar adhered to the spikes of his fighting-claw and the yellow stain of Ground Flower covered his gripping-claw.

Rolling out his tongue, he inspected it,comma noting the blue stain of fermented Great Flower petals had almost disappeared. He resisted the temptation to sip more of the strong narcotic liquor. It wouldn’t do to show up on his first day in office with a bright blue tongue and drooping eyestalks.

Looking again at the crest, his fighting-claw extended in an involuntary reflex as he remembered the lout who carved it on his carapace. Had it not been a public ceremony, he would have killed the clumsy beast on the spot for cutting so deeply. Dorn slaves were so dull-witted, but he knew without their slim dexterous appendages, Saran would still be without technology.

Talking to himself, knowing the twittering chirp of his leg hairs couldn’t be overheard; he congratulated himself on the recent victory. “First Pro-Council...Sounds good…I have done well.”
He knew he had one turning of First Sun. One turning to prove himself worthy. And he could never forget, there were two waiting for him to fail.
Lord Admiral Tomay, Warrior Caste like himself, was a capable leader. “Does he covet this seat? And The Noble Head of Science Caste. How did a scientist, even one as brilliant as Romar, rise to such a position? But there he is. Use him. Tap his knowledge to elevate this honorable position.”is he speaking to himself or is this his thoughts? I wouldn’t put it in parentheses if he’s not speaking. Thoughts should be shown in a different way than speech. If he is speaking to himself the ignore me.

Turning slightly, Charon admired his iridescent black carapace and wing coverlets as they reflected the blue-white rays. He noted with satisfaction no gray showed along the edges...yet.
He’d not slept on this, his first night in the official residence of the Lord Protector of Saran. He was much too excited.

Now Second Sun’s radiance started to fade as First Sun’s red brilliance broke over the parapets of Council Keep. As it hit the light-gathering crystal in the center of the dome and radiated down the arching blue panels, it reminded him of an overturned Great Flower. This reminded him again of last night’s festivities. He wished for sleep, but that would have to wait.
Drawing in a great breath, he closed his breathing tubes and whistled for his escort, then buzzed softly to himself, “Time to face my first day.period”

As Charon and his escorts made their way to Council Hall, he caught a glimpse of the retired Council, Lord Protector P’Zore and his six wives. They were in the courtyard just below the arched walkway, strolling leisurely through the garden sipping nectar and enjoying the warmth of the twin suns. P’Zor’sabove you have P’Zore with an e here the e is missing. carapace was nearly solid gray, and he had to lean forward using all four legs to carry his weight.

Three of P’Zor’s wives were still young. Charon considered inviting them to join his house when P’Zore passed on.
As he watched the youngest, Mazza, swiveled an eyestalk and glanced up at him. She quickly looked away, but flared her leg pouches to show they were empty. Charon felt a stirring in his abdomen, and had to fight the impulse to flash his seeder in response.oh, ok, that sounds a bit naughty there.

Charon’s first wife Torez, could no longer produce an egg. She’d only dropped three in the five turns they’d been together. One of the worms neared the young adult stage. Charon had no idea how she could pick him out of the hundreds crawling around in the nursery. To him they all looked and tasted alike. They eat their young?

His eldest seemed to have the beginnings of a strong fighting claw. He’d need it to survive the next stage of his life. Only one in six would live through the thinning battles to become an adult. The rest would become food for the survivors.

Charon shuddered at the vague memory of his own youth, as he tasted the air rising from the courtyard. He would need more wives to ensure the endurance of his house.
When P’Zore glanced his way, Charon flattened his antennae. It wouldn’t be wise to be caught sniffing around the Councilman’s wives.

Charon remembered walking a respectful distance behind the much-loved Lord-Protector for ten turnings of First Sun, as his own entourage followed now. Whenever they had passed through those gardens, he’d said to himself, someday this will be mine. He’d always been careful to keep his ambitions hidden. Those who did not, seemed to meet with unfortunate accidents.

The flower gardens of Council Keep were unsurpassed anywhere on Saran. Charon had seen paintings of the wild flower fields his distant ancestors had flown around. They’d gathered nectar from the small blossoms to give themselves enough energy to fly to the next field.
When the outsiders had landed on Saran, they brought the knowledge of genetic engineering and cross breading the plants. Now the flowers were too large to stand by themselves. Workers, and their Dorn helpers, continually emptied the nectar and propped them up. As a result, all the Saran were now too fat to fly. Progress has its disadvantages.

Approaching the Great Council Hall, Charon could feel the heat of Second Sun on his back. He opened his wing coverlets and fluttered the vestigial wings unconsciously; thinking not of discomfort, but of the close approach and subsequent boiling of the southern sea. In less than half a turning, the storms would come and the Rain Flowers would bloom. P’Zore, and all his age, would gorge on Rain Flower Nectar and die. Then his carapace, no longer gray but bright blue from the nectar, would be placed in the Hall Of Greats beside his predecessors.
In three ten-turns, the fates willing, Charon would join him. He hoped to have many more achievements carved on his carapace by then.

As the tall wooden doors opened, a chill lanced through him. It would be hard to fill the shell of the retired Council. Very hard indeed. Many wise decisions had been made in his reign. Some not so wise, Charon felt, but none could be questioned. The words of the Lord Protector, Supreme Council, became law as soon as they were chirped.

Most distressing was elevating Worker Caste to Artist. There were never enough workers. The Dorn needed constant supervision. Their small minds couldn’t grasp the intricate workings of delicate equipment. They did make fine slaves, never questioning orders or rebelling and mumbling about their workload.

Yet another unwise situation was the way Religious Caste had been tolerated. Charon knew he would have to move slowly, stripping their power in bits whenever a transgression by one of them allowed it. Those arrogant idiots could no longer be allowed to influence state decisions.

Thinking of the Followers of Thenot sure the should be capitalized and I don’t remember if you did above. Two Suns brought to mind the most distressing time in Saran history. Many lifetimes ago, a star ship had landed on this world. Religious Caste, not daring to even think this was not the center of the universe, ordered the peaceful Tlogians killed.
Had it not been for the intervention of Warrior and Science Caste, their technology would have been destroyed as well.
Three lifetimes were spent unraveling the wonders their ship held. Charon knew Warriors could have ‘persuaded’ the Tlogian crew to share their secrets.

First Pro-Council’s escort halted just inside the Great Hall and allowed him to honor the departed, snapping his talons in respect as he passed the carapace of each.
As he neared the end of the long hallway, guards he had hand picked when he was an Admiral, opened the doors to the Grand Council Room.

The High Priest, Exalted Leader of Religious Caste, stepped from an alcove. The priest clearly had been waiting for this moment. Planning it. Rehearsing it in his mind since the Conformation Ceremony. Now without acknowledging the newly elected Pro-Council, he turned his back to him, walked past the astonished dignitaries, and took his seat.

Charon stopped. His wing coverlets vibrated in anger and the spikes on his fighting claw snapped erect.
The guards folded their talons and hung their eyestalks in shame. They had been powerless to prevent the affront to their leader, but he could have their fighting claw removed and exile them from Warrior Caste.

Charon stared at the Priest’s back, hardly able to believe what had just occurred. He had to snap his talons softly before his guards would raise their eyes. He knew exactly how they felt. It had happened to him many turns past. At that time, he feared the loss of his talons, if not his head. Lowering his fighting claw with the spikes tightly folded to quell their fears, he motioned for them to close the doors. Buzzing very softly so only the two could hear, and tapping his gripping claw for emphasis, he allayed their anxiety. “I will not have to tolerate his arrogance long. I fear he may meet with an accident...soon. Arrange a private meeting with Second Acolyte in my chambers at the next rising of Second Sun.”
Then, with his anger under control, he motioned for the doors.He motioned for the doors to be closed above.

Striding down the aisle as if nothing had happened, he acknowledged the Admiral, extending his fighting claw with tightly closed talons. “Lord Tomay. It’s an honor to see you. Have you recovered from last night? You were sipping an astounding quantity of my private stock. Had I consumed half that, I’d still be on my back.”
“Barely standing, Lord Protector. I hope I don’t embarrass you by falling over.”
“Not yet Lord Protector. I still have a full turn of First Sun to prove worthy of that honor. As to being embarrassed, never. Fighting or drinking, you have no equal.”

Turning to the scientist, Charon offered his gripping claw. “We missed the Noble Head of Science at the festivities. I trust all is well, Romar, old friend?”
Rolling his eyestalks for emphasis, Romar buzzed softly. “You are aware of my intolerance to fermented nectars. I stay well away from them so I won’t be tempted. Do not take my absence as an affront to you.”
Charon buzzed his leg hairs in amusement. “I am slightly offended. I stocked several varieties of unfermented nectars just for you.” Noting the way Romar hung his eyestalks, he quickly added, “Fear not. I have nothing but the highest respect for you, and I’m honored to call you my friend.”

With a brief nod to the other dignitaries, and ignoring the High Priest, the only one not standing, he mounted the dais and motioned for the Council to come to order.
Pro-Council Charon waited for the buzzing of wing coverlets to subside, so the Council Clerk could begin the meeting. He returned the icy stare of the High Priest, then rolled his eyestalks in amusement. He noted this seemed to anger the arrogant fool even more.

Snapping his gripping claw for order, the clerk activated a recorder and turned a screen to the Pro-Council. “Sir. The first order of business, one befitting your first day, is the commissioning of a new Star Ship.”
Lord Admiral Tomay, started to rise, but Charon waved him back. “I know this will disappoint the Noble Head of Warriors, but this ship will go to Science Caste. The next one will be yours. You may supervise its construction. Romar, Noble Head of Science. I name this ship, Far Reach for Knowledge. Use it well.”

Romar stood, barely able to believe his good fortune. The previous Council had always found an excuse to put off his request.After our previous flub with blinder and pov I almost don’t want to say anything but I’m going to. This chapter has up to the underlined portion has been in Charon’s pov this is a slip into Romar’s. Is it absolutely necessary to have us in his head. Could he make and excited buzzing with his wings or legs? “Science gratefully accepts. It will be used well, for the greater good of all Saran. May I request a squad of Warriors to protect the ship and see to the piloting and navigation?”
Charon nodded to the Admiral. “With your approval, I think it can be arranged.”

Tomay snapped his talons softly in amusement. Knowing full well even a Pro-Council’s words became law as soon as they were buzzed.
Before he could reply, the Priest jumped up. “I demand Religious Caste be aboard also.”

The Admiral’s talons snapped fully open and he would have used them, but a dismissive nod from Charon stopped him. The Pro-Council fixed the Priest with another icy stare and waited until he sat down again before responding. “I think not. As we all know, Religious Caste does not tolerate females in positions of authority, whereas Science regards them as equals. Also...In my council...You do not demand anything. You politely ask. Do I make myself clear? I wouldn’t want my first day in this seat to be marred by your blood.”

Charon noted with disdain the symbol over the Priest’s chair. Two suns, revolving around Saran, and Saran the center of the universe. It had been known for a thousand generations, First Sun was merely a minor star among billions and Second Sun was orbiting it along with Saran and ten other planets. Yet, the fools insisted on preaching their nonsense.

Receiving a nod to proceed, the clerk brought another matter to the screen. “Sir. As you know, Religious Caste has caused some problems in the outer colony worlds. These need to be addressed before open warfare erupts.”

The Priest started to rise, thought better of it, but snapped his puny talons defiantly as he retorted, “Religious Caste has caused no problems. It’s the...”
“It’s your damned arrogance.” Charon buzzed. “If you’d stick to counseling those who wish to be counseled, and stay out of matters that do not concern you, we’d all be better off. You will send someone to straighten out this mess before you start a war. Which you’ll lose. You can’t go yourself, so the First Acolyte will go in your place. Make it clear to him why he’s going and what he needs to do.

Without waiting for a reply, Charon nodded again to the clerk.
The Priest jumped up, waved his claws in the air and buzzed loudly, “You can’t dictate to me. I’m the Two Sun’s High Priest, I’ll not be ordered about like an acolyte.”

Two guards moved behind him with raised claws. Their talons twitched in anticipation as they waited for a nod from the Councilman. Charon wished he could give that nod, but waved them back and glared at the priest. When he could control himself, he buzzed softly, “You seem determined to spill your blood and mar my first day in this seat. You realize you’ve just committed a treasonous offense? But because I’m still celebrating my victory, I’ll officially pardon your transgression. However, it will be noted in the logs. Clerk. Next item.”

“Sir. The unauthorized breeding of Dorn slaves.”
Charon looked at the screen, then at the Lord Overseer of the Loran Continent, letting him squirm a bit before speaking. “As we all know, the food requirements of the Dorn, require strict control of their numbers. I also note sixteen requests, approved by the Lord Overseer, for the elevation of Worker to Artist Caste. While I approve of the arts, our lives would be dull without them, I feel the ranks of Artist Caste to be somewhat bloated.”
Noting the distressed shudder of the Noble Artist, Marosa, Charon nodded and dipped his eyestalks. “ This is only a personal feeling however, so I direct the Noble Head of Artists to evaluate these requests and pick no more than three, less if none are worthy. Now back to the matter of slave breeding...I forbid Loran from exporting slaves until their numbers are reduced to legal limits. I also charge the Warrior Caste with investigating the death of any Dorn. As to feeding the excess,comma the Overseer will set aside part of his personal land for food production until said numbers are achieved. Clerk. Next item please.”

“Sir. Next is a request for elevation of a Worker to Academic Caste.”
Charon studied the petition a moment, then turned to the Lord Overseer of the Sal Island Group. “Tell me about this request if you would please. Sir?”
The Overseer stood, nodded to another in the audience who also rose, then addressed the Council. “With the Pro-Council’s approval, I wish to grant the request of this individual. His gripping claw was injured in an industrial accident. The Medical Caste were able to save his life but not his claw. Not wanting to be a burden on his family, he has studied academics.”

Charon stood and snapped his claws loudly. “This is what being Saran is all about. Not wanting to burden his family, he has educated himself. I have often thought there are too many industrial accidents. Some corporations wish to enrich themselves by forcing their workers to produce more, while ignoring safety and not providing quality equipment and training.”
Turning to the audience, he motioned the worker forward. “What we need is someone to see to the needs of the workforce. I therefore elevate this person, not to Academic, but to the Head of a new Caste. Their ranks will be no more than two percent of the Worker Caste. They will be charged with investigating accidents and providing worker safety classes. Anyone wishing to disagree with the formation of a new Caste, may speak now without fear.”

Lord Admiral Tomay, stood and snapped approval. “Warrior Caste will provide enforcement if needed.”
Romar joined him. “Science Caste will provide investigation whenever called on.”
The heads of all castes stood and buzzed their approval. Only the High Priest remained seated. Charon chided him. “Come,comma come. You can’t possibly disapprove of my actions on this matter. Or is it only myself that you dislike?”
As the Priest reluctantly stood, Charon snapped and buzzed. “So it is ordered. Now Noble friends...this includes our new...Lord of Worker Safety? I have some excellent preserved nectar in the garden. Join me there. This Council meeting is closed.”