COLONISTS
By; Gerald A. Polley
The Ancient One was being pulled in so many directions at once
he was having a hard time keeping track of what he's doing. It
was very rare he journeyed out of his body during the day. But he
found himself in his spiritual form materializing inside a warehouse at
a desert airport near a very popular resort. The security guard
in the booth by the main doors merely looked up at him, nodded, and
went back to the paper book he was reading. In a few minutes a
rather ordinary transport plane rolled up the taxi way and into the
hangar. Its ramp opened, and men in coveralls emerged, beginning
to move out cargo containers, followed by a man in the uniform of a
commander of The Millennian Empire, what The Ancient One referred to as
The Dawn. He came to attention and saluted in The Dawn manner,
putting the palm of his hand to the right side of his face. The
Ancient One returned the salute.
"I'm
really not in any mood, commander," he remarked, "for any trivial
problems! I have enough to deal with! But as you've been
extremely helpful lately I did agree to this meeting. What is it
you want?"
The Dawn's rigid expression did not
soften. "Resident Emperor," he began, "we have become aware that
you are still seeking children, that you intend to adopt several.
The Empire makes its desires known that we still consider your first
child heir to your throne, and if in a thousand years she is to have
her own world 500 of our immortal souls want to be part of her
Afterlife and the first individuals born in her territory. And we
again ask to send security personnel to serve you. They can
easily be disguised as natives. You do have some responsibilities
to The Empire."
The Ancient One sighed.
"Commander!" he snapped "I will make this very clear to you. Absolutely
and positively no Imperial personnel from off this world is to take up
station here! They are NOT to become involved with this race
whatsoever! If I so much as smell Imperial blood I will
personally kill every single member of the squad! Do I make
myself absolutely clear? These people must solve their own
problems. They must provide my security. There is to be no
Imperial presence on this world! Oh, a few observers but NO
INTERFERENCE! Do I make myself clear?"
The
Imperial Commander sighed. "Yes, Your Majesty!" he moaned, "You
make yourself very clear! I assure you no matter how much we hate
it your wishes will not be violated. I don't doubt you would do
exactly what you say!"
"By the way," The Ancient One asked, "what's going on here?"
"Covert trade," the Commander answered. "We have a shop in the city
that sells jewelry made by our artisans. They believe it comes
from natives. It gives us a good source of income.
Also, some of our people are sending back artifacts that were removed
from your world many years ago. They have need of funds.
They will exchange them for gold. Now that you will not allow us
to mine it from places that the natives cannot monitor, it is the only
way we have of obtaining it."
The Ancient One
smiled. "As long as nobody knows what's going on." He
looked around. "This hangar's in pretty good shape!" he
remarked. "The metal scrappers definitely haven't been here."
"We have good security!" the Commander answered.
A lumbering figure came down the plane's ramp, an Imperial war
droid. Every time The Ancient One saw one it reminded him of the
original "Battlestar Galactica." It approached and came to
attention.
"May I have a word with the Imperial Lord?" it asked.
"Certainly!" the Commander answered.
"My Lord," the droid continued, "I am suffering some kind of
malfunction. The technicians can't seem to locate it. It
may be some time before I can get to expert service. Would you
mind?"
The Ancient One raised his hand. "Of
course!" he snapped. "No need to go on. I hear
something. Let's have a look!"