Runner's Moon: Jebaral

Five Years Ago

The hot summer storm left the air sticky. However, it had provided the perfect cover for the spacecraft to land silently and completely undetected amid the growl of rolling thunder and lightning. Deep within the heart of the forested area, the ship had grounded itself with a jarring thump. It was on its last reserves, and powering down the engines this time would mean a complete shutdown of all systems. Permanently. Outside, the driving rain had pounded the outer hull of the craft like nails, frightening the thirty-one refugees huddled inside.

As the wind blew the black clouds to the south, the refugees exited to stand on solid ground for the first time in years. Some had to be helped out of the ship. Others stood on trembling legs and stared in amazement at this strange new place they would have to learn to adapt to. Learn to live in. Learn to survive.

Jebaral Gitall Morr breathed in the fresh, rain-soaked air. His skin tingled with awareness, and the possibility of danger and opportunity now facing him and his fellow survivors. Aware he was standing with his hands clenched into fists, he forced himself to open his fingers and take another deep lungful of air.

There were scents here he didn’t know. Not yet, anyway, but soon. Soon he would be able to identify those things which could be harmful to him, and those which wouldn’t. Right now, though, all he wanted was a few hours to stand here and listen to the coming night. And, hopefully, he would be able to find a little time when he could stop being afraid and waiting for the retaliatory blow to fall.

“What are you thinking?” a deep voice behind him rumbled.

From the corner of his eye, Jebaral watched the stocky form of his brother come to stand beside him. He heard the man sniff appreciatively, and he allowed himself a tiny smile in response. “I am thinking how glad I am to be out of that ship. I am thinking about what I am going to do with the rest of my life…”

Simolif glanced over at him. “Now that you have a life?” he finished for his younger sibling.
Nodding, Jebaral let his body do his talking for him. This world might be unknown territory, but it held promise. More than that, it held security. And hope.

A movement near his shoulder made him turn his head in question. “What are you doing?”

Simolif continued to bounce up and down on the balls of his feet almost like a youngling discovering a new sensation. “Gravity’s lighter here. If I weigh sixty koll, I will be surprised.”

“That is good,” Jebaral noted. “It means our denser muscle mass will be beneficial to us. Give us more strength.”

Overhead the departing clouds revealed a sky of oranges and blues. Between the leaves of the huge plant growth found on this planet, the distant stars were familiar friends, although their patterns were strange and unidentifiable. He felt Simolif place a hand at his back, inadvertently on the very spot where the adjac had chewed a hole in his shoulder. He jerked back from the white hot streak of agony that zipped through his body, searing nerve endings. A grunt escaped him before he could stop himself. Simolif immediately raised his hand.

“Forgive me. I was too wrapped up in the moment and forgot.”

“Do not apologize. I almost forgot as well.”

They continued to stare at the fall of night. Creatures emerged around them, creating noises that, oddly, didn’t seem intimidating, although they knew there would be some danger on this planet. Still, it would never compare to the horrors they had escaped from.

“I wonder what the inhabitants look like,” Simolif commented softly.

Throwing a glance over his shoulder, Jebaral gave him a tight smile. “We will never know if we remain here, will we?”

“We will need to find out soon so we can blend in among them once the sun rises.”

Jebaral nodded without commenting. It was time. They both knew it. Pivoting around, Jebaral walked over to where the rest of them who remained gathered in small groups. They lifted their heads at his approach, waiting to be told what they knew was coming.

“My friends, welcome to your home.” Standing as straight as he could, and trying to ignore the burning pain streaking up and down the backs of his legs, Jebaral gave them his blessing. “From here on, you are on your own. Scatter and find a place where you can finally be happy. We will survive and thrive here, I am certain of it.” Unconsciously he drew another deep breath of the rich, fragrant air. Deep in his gut he knew this planet had been a good choice. For some reason he couldn’t explain, he felt he would be able to live many long years here—at least a few more than he would have under Arran domination. His eyes raked over the weary-looking group before him. They all had taken the chance, basically placing their lives in his and Simolif’s hands in order to escape the deaths they knew would come if they had remained on Barandat.

“Good fortune, and have a long and happy life,” he said softly, holding his hands up in the air.

At the sign of dismissal, the group slowly broke apart, walking away singly or in clumps of twos or threes. Jebaral watched them go until there remained only himself and his brother.

“But never forget the Arra may ultimately find this place,” Simolif muttered under his breath.

“Which is why the ship must be totally destroyed. We cannot make it easy for them to track us.” Pulling a slender rod from his tunic pocket, Jebaral walked over to the narrow doorway, broke the rod apart, and tossed it into the interior of the spacecraft. That done, he turned his back on the ship that had been his home, his refuge, and his prison for the past two years and walked away. Simolif joined him, and together they disappeared into the woods as a boiling black cloud rolled out of the ship’s doorway.

In less than an hour, the craft was nothing more than a bubbling mass of liquid seeping into the loamy soil. By morning there was no trace anything unusual had occurred the night before.