I submitted this same story last year under the title Astatin and was immediately overwhelmed by the ratings and comments. In an effort to constantly improve, I pulled the story to update based on reader feedback and procure professional editing. I hope you enjoy. ~Malcolm Moss
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Concealed by amber canopy, the multi-bladed saw churned into the crisp bark of the astatin tree. "That's it. Hoist it down," Maren called out once his tool was secure on his belt.
The tremendous weight of the freed branch attempted to momentarily hoist Casi and his bulky partner from the crisp, yellow soil before they sank into their positions and took control of the ropes. Concentrating on the formidable mass as they lowered it to the ground, a shadow raced across the orchard so fast Casi couldn't be sure he saw it.
"Maren?" he shouted at his friend gathering the saffron-colored gas from the exposed edge of the cut branch.
"Yeah, I saw it." Tied to the tree and in the midst of a collection, Maren was in no better position to do anything about it. With the branch settled into the soil, Casi had scarcely lifted his head when he spotted the source between the massive tree trunks. He almost couldn't believe the sleek, black space runner passing over the expansive orchards of his modest home-world. Scanning what little sky he could make out under the cover of overlaid orange leaves, the Lorelein prince saw a group of at least a dozen more on the horizon.
"Who do you think that is?" Maren shouted as he climbed down the truck with the gas canisters secured to his back.
Meant to hold a half dozen people with large living quarters, the space runners were the preferred vehicle for shorter trips in space-a year or less. The ships racing over the orchards were outfitted with significant artillery contrary to the usual transport purpose of the ships.
"Don't know. Can't be good," Casi replied absently, his eyes locked on the foreboding sight. Space runners frequented the planet to collect their canisters of astatin gas, but only on their predetermined date. No shipments were planned for another week.
The first ship turned to land in the clearing just outside the gate to the capital, slowly lowering to the ground with landing skids extended. The entire city was surrounded by the astatin orchards with only three access points. Someone knew exactly where they were going.
"Can you finish up without me?" Casi asked out of respect for his peers. He had full confidence they were capable of cutting the branch into manageable portions for distribution. Maren would take care to get the gas canisters back to the capital.
"Go on. You'll barely make it as it is," Maren said as he clutched the prince's shoulder. Nodding his thanks, Casi dropped his equipment belt and ropes, and took off toward the nearest gate. A strong runner, the prince had no problem keeping a fast pace. As he had many times in his life, he was grateful that his father had asked him to spend his days working alongside his people.
King Vati could never have anticipated the physical strength that resulted from Casi's days in the astatin orchards. He was in peak physical shape, though too humble to ever admit it. Rather, he thought of himself as the nineteen year old prince who had a mountain to learn before taking over the responsibility of ruling a planet in such a complicated position.
What started as an expedition to collect astatin, the farmers' descendants now occupied the single city on Lorelei-named for the beloved daughter of the first king.
At a critical point in their growth, the astatin trees begin to produce a light yellow gas with the same name. Casi didn't know who exactly had figured it out, but somehow it became known that the gas would serve as the most effective fuel source for intergalactic vehicles.
Completely dependent upon the export of astatin gas, the Loreleins had no other natural resources. Instead, they purchased all food and water from other planets. Vati had spent his life avoiding political obligations or making enemies-as had his father, and his father before him-so that Lorelei could always maintain the trade agreements it needed to survive.
Once past the orchard, Casi deftly sprinted through the tight streets and stair cases that filled the interior of the city. As he neared the city center, he found he could no longer see space runners in the sky. Whoever had come, they had landed; he didn't have much time. Pushing himself, Casi raced over the last blocks before reaching the only possible destination for an attack.
The centrality of the capital, the Tower of Lorelei served as home to the king and royal family, designed so that the ruler could look out over the astatin fields in every direction.
Casi slowed his pace as he neared the door and tried to settle the racing in his chest. The run had taken more than he expected, and whatever happened next, he wanted to be prepared to handle it. As calm as he was likely to be, the Lorelein prince pushed open the door to see Vati shaking hands with a man he'd never seen before.
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Nearly jumping off the landing platform, Aphae relished the soil under her boots. Idle sitting was hardly her strong suit, and the metal prison of space transport did little to appease her appetite for action. Some days it seemed like she had spent her whole life training or waiting on a ship, with battles for territory only sprinkled between.
Once on the ground, she began to coordinate the landings of the other space runners, though she became impatient with the time lost. Arnae was up to something; she didn't want to wait around too long to find out what.
They had brought fifteen ships total to the planet's surface, although Aphae couldn't determine why her father had selected such a small number. On any other venture they would have come with two hundred, or just pulled the home ship itself into the planet and made quick work of it. Arnae should have shown his strength by bringing a large force to inspire immediate surrender. There was no reason to waste time with petty negotiations for such a defenseless planet.
It was a long few minutes before each ship had landed and settled, spilling soldiers from their bellies like entrails from a slain foe. She set off with a group of five warriors to the only tall building in what seemed to be a very small city. Her father had said he wanted to speak to the king alone; Arnae usually got what he wanted and this day would be no exception.
A strange ruler of the Eilaens, Arnae was the first man to rule them in four hundred years. The Eilaen culture honored the strength of women. A queen governed them and women were given access to the finest military training. When Aphae's mother died in a battle to possess a small outer planet, Aphae and her brother Entae were both too young to read, much less rule. Arnae had taken the throne out of necessity. In a few short months, she would inherit her queendom on her twenty-first birthday and finally be free from her father's weak perspective on ruling.
Shadowed by five women she would trust with her life, Aphae felt immortal. A long-sword beat rhythmically between her shoulders as she marched through the city. Her Nirethi hand-blade remained tucked into the holster on her thigh. Metal armor clanged and boots scuffed the yellow soil as the intimidating group neared the base of the tower.
