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The Planet Kumat

Currently Untitled Short Story

By Kayla BloomPublished 4 years ago Updated 3 years ago 5 min read
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The Planet Kumat
Photo by NASA on Unsplash

Chapter One: The Planet Kumat

Surveying the ground through his monitors, Lawn hoovered the ship momentarily as he proceeded to descend vertically into the circular, pit-like dock. Large domed shields disappeared into the sandy foundations of the building as it opened. The setting sun was beginning to impede his sight, and the ship clunked maladroitly to a halt as he swiftly removed his restraints. He flipped off the engine and hastened through the cockpit exit. No matter how many times he has been to Kumat, his palms still perspired.

“We’ve landed. No sign of Dominion troops yet,” he spewed into his jacket receiver. No one would accuse him of being a conversationalist, and he was frankly quite sialoquent.

Standing behind the loading ramp, he glanced over to the dozen officers emerging from their various stations and nodded to acknowledge their presence. Their dark uniforms lay hidden beneath long, billowy robes, along with their protective equipment. They lingered a moment to collect themselves. The war had ended, but once again they returned to a hostile environment. Breaking the silence, the lights flashed and a vexatious alarm signaled the lowering of the ramp. Lawn stepped forward vigilantly, his hand hoovering over the hot, leathery hilt of his pistol. The officers followed behind him as they reached the platform. Despite the entrance, civilian laborers maintained their operations, shuffling in and out of the port on their business. Off in the distance, a young man shrouded in the shadows beckoned the unit. Lawn took note of the stationed troopers, two emerging on the upper deck conversing. Their munitions became quite discernible against the deep green of their uniform.

The shadowy figure’s voice was clear but restrained.

“Welcome Mr. Arnold. We must hurry, this way,”

Lawn obeyed, signaling for three officers and gracefully trailing the stranger through the narrow, winding halls of the port. His attention darted between the faces of passersby, but found they were much too occupied in their drudgery to notice the robed foreigners even in the limited visibility. The inept footsteps of the three officers behind Lawn echoed progressively to the quickening of their pace. At last they rounded a corner to reach an unassuming metal wall, colored lights flickering from a rectangular panel beneath eye-level. The stranger promptly tapped long, slender fingers on the panel and the door lurched into the frame with a clang. Shutting the door swiftly, their benefactor was at last examined in the luminescence of the chamber. Dark, scraggled hair protruded from a short yet svelte physique; perhaps no more than usual but more than Lawn was used to. Accordingly, his delicate facial features exhibited the same slight tendencies and he was quite accustomed to his current, anguished expression. There was little in the room besides some shelving stocked with miscellaneous gadgets and an exceptionally worn out desk shoved in the corner. A musty sensation only emphasized its neglected condition.

“You sent the communication?” Lawn stepped towards the stranger.

“Yes, and I am very sorry to keep this brief, but you must realize the importance of what I have. If anyone were to know I betrayed the Dominion, I…”

“I know,” Lawn interrupted. “But how did someone like you come across this Mr.?”

The stranger sighed, shaking his head. He proceeded to rummage through his inner overcoat pocket and removed a can-sized metal cylinder. His arm extended towards Lawn, the two exchanged propitious glances and Lawn steadied his fingers around the object.

“As I said, no one can know. Get this to your system before it is too late. It may already be for us. You must go,” he warned.

Lawn stowed the artifact underneath his cumbersome brown robe and gestured to the three officers over his shoulder. They bowed synchronously to the stranger and scanned the hallway as the unit departed the chamber, leaving him to contemplate the encounter. Lawn lowered his gaze instinctively, noticing three more troopers marching past. He proceeded to the ship on edge. As the now ostensibly aphotic corridor opened into the glow of the open dock, a buzz electrified the atmosphere. No longer did the locals carry on with their business but scurried back through the halls and offices. Those brave enough with the escalating presence of the troopers whispered anxiously to one another. An officer guarding the ship hastened to Lawn’s flank and in a low tone bent to his superior.

“They know something has been taken,” he reported. “I suggest we avoid questioning.”

The engines roared to life as the unit sped through the departure procedure. The comms abruptly crackled into static, and a voice resonated through the haze.

“Dock inspection to the Toreador, your departure has not yet been authorized. Please commence with standby and prepare to be examined for approval,” the voice requested.

“Like that’s going to happen,” Lawn muttered to himself, and began to ascend. Another warning echoed through comms as the ship burst through the now closing shields and soared over the swiftly shrinking city. The ship rattled with a sudden tremor and two more impacts sent the unit gyrating towards the surface. With the last of his faculties, Lawn squeezed the wheel and tugged firmly to steady the ship.

If you enjoyed this short story, please feel free to leave a tip. Anything can help as I try to deliver all kinds of interesting content to readers. Please consider reading some of my other works, and I thank you so much for the support!

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About the Creator

Kayla Bloom

Just a writer, teacher, sister, and woman taking things one day at a time in a fast-paced world. Don’t forget to live your dreams.

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