Aaden BlueStar - Boy ET Free Chapters

The thing that fascinated Aaden

most when he was in this state was his sense of time. He felt as though it wasn’t in the present as he knew it now … but he wasn’t sure whether it was a future time, or a past era. In a way it didn’t matter. When he was in that state, there was no future or past … there was only the present.

He had tried to get a name, but each time he got a word that made no sense to him. It was more of a rank or position than a name … ‘BlueStar’.

Lying there, staring at the spot on the ceiling, he allowed his eyelids to close. Then, peering into the inner darkness, a pinpoint of light appeared. Aaden concentrated on that pinpoint of light until it started to grow. The more he concentrated the faster the ball of light grew, until it appeared to suddenly come rushing towards him. Bursting through the orb of light in his mind’s eye, he emerged in familiar surroundings.  The outline of a spaceship control panel formed in front of him. He was once again in the pilot’s seat, staring at an alien craft that was visible through the transparent hull of his ship …

Chapter 2

Through the transparent exterior of his spaceship, Zakeera, BlueStar Commander, stared at the alien craft that was cruising ahead of him. The entire top dome of his craft was transparent, the only indicator of a barrier being a slight distortion in shape of stars and other objects – the force-shield separating him from outer space.

Even after countless years of service in the Astar fleet, Zakeera still found it somewhat unnerving to be in what appeared to be an open-topped craft flying through space. It was as though he was standing on a platform that was suspended in the middle of the universe. He looked around the full circumference of his craft to ensure no other alien spaceships were in the vicinity. The only spaceships he saw were those of his own Astar fleet, all of them appearing as solid craft, including their domes.

Zakeera waved his hand over the control panel and dome of his craft solidified around him, except for a viewing panel directly in from of him, where he could view the enemy ship. Feelings of anger surfaced as he gazed at the alien craft, but then he remembered the words of his mentor, Varoon, who had always tried to impress upon him the importance of controlling one’s thoughts.

“Your individual thoughts have the power to affect the universe,” Varoon had said. “They can be used to empower the positive or feed the negative.”

Zakeera always remembered those words whenever he was placed in a situation like this. Earth, the planet he’d been entrusted to protect, was being threatened by an alien foe and he had no option but to eliminate the threat. Even so, using his telepathic abilities he projected his thoughts towards the alien craft to ensure there were no humanoids on board. It didn’t take him long to satisfy himself that there were only cloned creatures piloting the spaceship. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the exterior of the craft, searching for a vulnerable area to attack.

A voice came over the intercom. “There seems to be only one – although a reasonable size.”

It was Arkaydo, Zakeera’s comrade and most trusted friend, calling from an accompanying craft.

“I have to admit I’m surprised,” Zakeera replied.

The spaceship that was cruising in front of them was circular in shape, similar to the Astar scout-ships, although almost four times the size and shaped with a flat top, rather than a dome, similar in shape to a rubbish tin lid.

“Our shielding device is working well – they don’t know we’re here,” said Arkaydo.

“Varoon and the WhiteStar Council were wise to set up a base on Mars to monitor intrusions into this solar system. The Darkets obviously thought this would be an easy conquest, the people of Earth not having the technology to defend them.”

“So they send one battleship?”

 Zakeera smirked. “Arrogance! Without our presence here, which they’ve not expected, they’d have had an open entry to this solar system, so a single battleship would be all they’d need. Technology on Earth is in its infancy. The people of that planet have nothing to counteract the Darket force.”

“They don’t appear to be aware of our presence yet, Commander?” said the pilot of one of the other patrol craft under Zakeera’s command.

 “I think it’s time we gave them a wakeup call.”

Zakeera passed his hand over the monitor screen in front of him. The alien battleship was soon displayed on the monitor screen. He zeroed in on the primary power drive on the enemy ship. With a flick of his hand he sent a laser bolt hurtling towards it.

“Wakey, wakey!” said Arkaydo, as the power drive on the enemy craft exploded.

Zakeera imagined the sudden panic and confusion aboard the Darket craft. He was not surprised when the battleship suddenly disappeared.

“Huh!” said Arkaydo. “These clones are so predictable.”

“They sure are,” said Zakeera, altering the frequency of his own craft to match that of his opponent.

For the next few minutes the accompanying Astar spaceships and the alien battleship appeared, then disappeared on and off, as each tried to discover the frequency of the others. When the alien saucer finally gave up, Zakeera had already anticipated their next move.

“Activate barrier force-shields,” he barked over the intercom.

A bolt of energy flashed from the enemy battleship, a force powerful enough to destroy all of the Astar patrol craft in one hit. However, Zakeera’s foresight had once again proved his superiority in battle. The force-shields surrounding their hulls easily deflected the energy bolt without damage to their spacecraft.

“That’s it.!” Arkaydo exclaimed. “Without their primary driver they’ve just used up their reserve power. They won’t be able to do much now.”

The Darket craft disappeared once more.

“Well, I’ll give them full marks for trying,” said Zakeera, his eyes sparkling.

He didn’t bother to try to match their frequency; he already knew they would use the cloak of invisibility in an attempt to escape. He relied instead on his monitor screen, as did the other Astar pilots, tracking the energy signature of the alien craft as it tried to flee.

Zakeera’s eyes flashed with the excitement of the chase. He was sure he had them, but he felt no compassion – after all, they were only soulless creatures, mutations cloned by Belial’s regime. They were a combination of intricate circuitry and biological organs and membrane, obtained from mutilated animals collected on previous trips to planet Earth. He had often encountered these vile creations and was always repulsed by their appearance, which was rather grotesque, although humanoid in shape. Despite their ugly appearance, they were highly intelligent, a wonder of mechanical wizardry, able to think and reason for themselves, but devoid of emotion.

The Commander knew that because of this lack of emotion they would accept failure as casually as they would acknowledge success.

“Herd them towards the Arctic wastelands,” he commanded his squadron, “away from the populated areas of the planet.”

With each strategic move of the confederate patrol craft the Darkets were becoming more restricted in their options of movement. They were diving closer and closer to the planet surface. As the craft skimmed the treetops of the Siberian forest, the creatures, true to their pre-programmed natures, pushed the self-destruct lever on their control panel, for they were encoded to leave no evidence of their technology for others to glean.

Zakeera had also expected this move. “Reactivate the force-shields,” he shouted, imagining the bewildered response from the people of Earth.

The resulting nuclear explosion sent shock-waves travelling the planet’s circumference. In one blinding flash, millions of trees were flattened and people in neighboring areas were blown off their feet by the resulting high winds.

High above the planet, the patrol-ships stabilized themselves after the impact of the blast over Tunguska. The craft were protected from the full force of the blast by the force shields surrounding them, but the impact of the explosion had blown them into the outer atmosphere. They regrouped and descended to the planet surface to survey the damage.

“What a mess,” said Zakeera. “The people down there will probably think it’s a meteor strike.  Technology on Earth is in its infancy – they haven’t discovered nuclear power yet.”

“So they won’t know they’re under surveillance?”

“No! But they will if there are more explosions like this in future. This can’t happen again. We’ll report the incident to the WhiteStar administrators and see if they have a solution. Now let’s head for home.”

Zakeera passed his hand over the console in front of him. A replica of his craft appeared on the screen. As he touched his hand lightly on a point on the perimeter of the diagram the energy of the craft was altered to match that of his home base. The ship was immediately drawn, like a magnet, to the base, while at the same time repulsed by the planet Earth vibration. Within only a few minutes the red soil of Mars appeared through the transparent viewing panel of his craft.

As Zakeera’s spaceship entered the concealed portal and docked in the underground station, he received a telepathic communication, instructing him to report to the administration sector of his community. It didn’t faze him that this sector was a long way and concealed underground from where he was presently. He simply headed for a nearby teleporter, one of many situated throughout this community on Mars.

“Zakeera, wait a minute,” called Arkaydo as he disembarked from his own craft. “Let’s meet in the canteen to celebrate our successful mission. It’s not often we bag such a prize as a Darket battleship.”

Zakeera pursed his lips. “A celebration might be a bit early,” he said. “I’ve just had a telepathic message to report to Varoon and the WhiteStar Council.”

Arkaydo’s eyes widened. “Oh!”

“I have a feeling they’re not going to be happy about that big blast over Tunguska on planet Earth.”

“It would’ve shown up big time on the Astar monitors,” Arkaydo agreed.

“Yeah! Although we didn’t have much choice at the time, I think they’re probably worried about the impact on the people of Earth.”

Arkaydo nodded. “That blast would’ve shocked the hell out of them. The light from it would have been visible half way around the planet.”

“I think that’s why they want to see me so urgently. You carry on – I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Good luck, Commander,” one of the other pilots called out.

Zakeera acknowledged them with a brief nod and then turned to the teleporter unit. As he stepped into the cubicle, the circular crystalline tube closed around him. He punched in the co-ordinates for the Administration Sector. He then closed his eyes, forcing the memories of the Tunguska blast from his mind as he concentrated his thoughts in preparation for the journey. The teleporter dissolved his physical body into millions of molecules and beamed the mass to a receiving module in the administrative sector.

******************************

Chapter 3

With the memories still fresh in his mind of the destruction of the alien craft in his trance the previous night, Aaden struggled to concentrate during the history lesson.

“Okay,” said Brian Masters, catching Aaden’s attention. “We’ve covered the main battle in today’s lesson, but not what led up to this. For your assignment, I want you to research the main events leading to this confrontation. I want that returned by tomorrow.”

‘No!’ Aaden thought in panic, staring at the teacher. ‘I need time to check out Tunguska.’

Masters, who had turned to clean the whiteboard, suddenly turned back and said, “No, you need time to check out Tunguska.”

As soon as he’d said the words, he immediately baulked. The shocked expression on his face showed that he’d had no intention of saying such a thing. Aaden was amazed that he’d repeated his very thoughts. The other students, who were all preparing to leave the room, stopped and looked at Masters.

“Tun … what?” said one of the students. “Is that a hint of what we need to research?”

“No!” said Masters quickly. “I … uh … I’m not sure where that came from.” He shook his head, as though to clear a confusing thought. “Ignore that. Have the assignment ready by tomorrow.”

The students went back to clearing their desks, preparing to leave. Aaden continued staring at Masters, amazed that the man had repeated the words he’d been thinking. He wasn’t sure whether it was some strange coincidence, so he decided to test it. He thought, ‘Make it two days for the assignment.’

Masters immediately said, “Make it two days for the assignment.”

Again, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, his jaw dropped with the surprise of having said them.

“Two days?” one of the students repeated. “Not tomorrow?”

Masters looked around the room, appearing somewhat stunned. The students had all stopped and were looking at him for confirmation.

“Yeesss …” he replied, looking strained. “You can have two days.”

Aaden struggled to conceal his glee. He thought, ‘On second thoughts, make it three days.’

Masters immediately repeated, “On second thoughts, make it three days.”

Astounded by what he’d just said, Masters immediately grabbed his satchel and fled the room. The students filed out after him, all smiles at having gained such leniency on the timing of their assignment.

Aaden was still coming to terms with what had just happened when Fleur joined him as they walked from the room.

“That’s a bonus,” she said. “Three days for the assignment – we only need one.”

“Hey!” said Aaden, raising his hands in mock submission. “Who’s complaining? Have you heard of Tunguska?”

Fleur gave a sideways glance. “Masters mentioned that – what is it?”

“Let’s go check it out in the library.”

“But Masters said it wasn’t anything to do with the assignment.”

Aaden’s eyes sparkled. “Let’s check it out anyway.”

With a shrug, she followed him to the library and watched as he did a search for ‘Tunguska event’ on the computer.

“1908!” Aaden gasped. “It happened over a century ago.”

Fleur leaned closer to the screen. “Who cares?”

Aaden shook his head. “I didn’t know it was so long ago. But it actually happened. I thought it was just a dream.”

Fleur pulled a face. “What?”

Aaden ignored her questioning stare. “Ah … nothing. Let’s see what they say about it.”

“Tunguska is in East Central Siberia,” said Fleur, reading the text. “This has nothing to do with our assignment. What’s so great about Tunguska?”

“I heard there was an explosion there.”

“So? There have been explosions all over the world throughout history.”

“This was a major blast … bigger than the atomic bomb that was dropped on Hiroshima.”

Fleur’s eyes widened. She looked closer at the screen. “No way! An atomic bomb in 1908?”

“Not an atomic bomb according to this info,” said Aaden, disappointed. “They think it was a meteorite.”

“There was no crater,” said Fleur, reading. “Meteorites are mainly rock, iron and nickel. Something that heavy would’ve made a massive crater. You reckon it was big enough for an explosion like an atom bomb. How can that be?”

“Because it wasn’t a meteorite,” said Aaden. The words were out before he could stop himself.

Fleur glanced at him, but then thought about it.

“Ah!” she said, clicking her fingers. “It was a comet.”

Aaden grinned in surprise. “A comet? Where did that come from?”

“From out of space, of course,” she said with a straight face. “A comet is more ice, isn’t it? That’s why it has a tail, because the ice evaporates as the comet gets closer to the sun.”

   Curious as to where this was going, Aaden said, “Go on.”

“That’s why it might’ve been a comet, which vaporized with the friction of entering the atmosphere, causing an explosion, but no debris or crater on the ground.”

“H’mmm!” said Aaden, acknowledging her logic with a nod and a faraway look. “Good idea … and it’s possible a meteorite could do the same thing.”

“Ah, come on … how can rock vaporize?”

“Not so much vaporize. Think about it – we have this massive rock, hurtling through space and it hits the atmosphere.  It’s the same as when you dive into a pool and belly-flop. It causes a shock that’s enough to break up the bigger rock into smaller stones, which all explode and incinerate, causing a massive shockwave, but no crater on the ground. There could be lots of debris, but because the particles are so small, there’s no evidence on the ground. There’s just one big fireball, followed by a shower of fragments.”

Fleur stared at him. “But you said a minute ago that you thought it wasn’t a meteorite.”

“Yep! I still think it wasn’t a meteorite, or comet or anything like that.”

Fleur laughed. “Knowing you, you probably think it was a spaceship.”

Aaden looked directly at her, saying nothing.

“Oh, come on Aaden. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

 “Okay, it might sound a bit strange … but you’ve got a good point. Let’s do a search on ‘Tunguska UFO’.”

“Hold on,” said Fleur in an indignant tone. “The UFO thing wasn’t my idea.”

“Let’s do it anyway,” he insisted, making it sound like she had suggested it.

Fleur put her hands on her hips. “Aaden, a comet makes more sense than an exploding spaceship.”

He ignored her jibe, typing in the search term. Just as he did so, all the lights in the library dimmed and the computer screen faded. Aaden and Fleur both looked around.

“What’s happening?”

“Looks like a power surge.”

Aaden looked back at the screen, which was powering on and off. It faded out altogether and then, suddenly, the usual search screen was replaced with a dark crimson image against the black background. There was a face in the murky background.

Aaden blinked. The normal screen came back, but then faded to black again. This time the image of the face was stronger, outlined in the same dark crimson hue. Aaden recognized the brooding features immediately – it was the face he’d seen when he’d been struck by the lightning bolt.

“WHOA!” he yelled, pushing away from the screen, bumping his chair into Fleur.

She cried out, “What are you doing?”

“Did you see that?” Aaden stammered, pointing to the screen.

“See what?”

“THAT.” He said, pointing.

Fleur glanced at the screen and then looked at Aaden with concern. “It’s a blank screen. The power’s gone off.”

Aaden stared at the screen, but kept his distance. He could still see the image, although it was dark against the black background. He was amazed that Fleur couldn’t see it. Studying the image, he thought, “Who … are … You?”

As if in answer to his thought, the facial features dissolved, the lines rearranging into letters, forming a word in the same dark reddish hue – Belial.

******************************

Chapter 4a

When Zakeera opened his eyes again he was at his new location, but he waited for awhile before exiting the teleporter unit. He had learnt from past experience that too hasty an exit could result in an embarrassing stumble, where his body had not fully materialized, his legs still feeling leaden, almost alien from the rest of his body.

When the sensation normalized throughout his entire torso and limbs, he stepped forward. The blue-star emblem on his epaulette flashed momentarily, an indication of his rank in this society.

“Welcome, Commander Zakeera.”

The telepathic greeting was strong and clear. He barely had time to acknowledge the welcome before it continued.

“Please proceed to the violet room.”

The curved doors of the circular room slid open as he approached them. Walking with confidence, he headed for the column of violet light in the centre of the room. He could see the figures of the WhiteStar members who were seated around the perimeter of the chamber. They were all illuminated in a suffused pale mauve light that was coming from the pelmets above their heads. They didn’t greet him verbally, because they seldom used speech, but relied instead on the direct link-up of mind to mind, as was normal with all members of BlueStar status and upwards.

As Commander Zakeera entered the violet ray his mental shield was relaxed and the witnessing WhiteStar tribunal reviewed the Darket craft encounter. In normal situations, even members of WhiteStar status could not intrude on the thoughts of another without that person’s permission. It was only possible when two individuals’ vibration rates were synchronized. Even then, it was private, unless others could discover the right frequency to make the connection, as though tuning in to a radio station. The violet ray, however, allowed a mind link-up to all individuals within the violet field.

“We’ve noted the problem.” The telepathic reply came from Varoon, the WhiteStar spokesperson. “We thought this might happen. Ever since the rebellion, when the Astar League was formed to fight the tyrannical power base of the Darkemire Realm, the Darkets have continued to spread their influence to the outermost planetary systems of the universe.”

“And that’s why we have observation posts on these remote systems,” Zakeera acknowledged. “We chose this seemingly dead planet of Mars so that our underground stations would go unnoticed. But now that the Darkets have discovered planet Earth, what are our options? It’s best not to let the people of Earth know that their planet is being observed by opposing alien forces.”

“We’ve already discussed this and we feel we may have a solution. We don’t want widespread destruction from self-destroying Darket craft.”

The WhiteStar members looked around at each other with thinly veiled humor. "We feel the problem may be avoided by the use of telepathic coercion."

Zakeera’s mouth opened in surprise. He wouldn’t have considered it because it went against the code of ethics that had been instilled in him from an early age. He still had vague memories as a youngster of using telepathic coercion on weaker people to get his own way. Through mind control, he’d been able to get these people to do things against their will. They were generally members of lower Star-status of red or yellow, who didn’t have the metaphysical capacity to counteract his mental command. But even then, it was fairly innocent child’s play, to get extra cookies or toys or to escape punishment or a reprimand.

“We note your concern.”

The spokesperson smiled, amused with the vision of the high-jinks the young Commander had got up to.

“Please remember, what is morally wrong to use on your peers is not necessarily wrong when used as a defense against an aggressor.”

“But is it possible to use telepathic coercion over such distances?” the Commander asked. “And will it be effective in controlling beings in another craft?”

“Definitely,” Varoon replied. “You must remember that the ‘creatures,’ not ‘beings’, that are flying these craft are manufactured composites, designed to function by using normal thought patterns. They have mental capacity, but no metafunction abilities, and therefore would be easily controlled by a strong projected command. We feel a BlueStar would have no problem telepathically re-programming these creatures. If it were their Darkemire creator Belial, or one of his cohorts manning these craft it would be another story, but it’s to our advantage that the Darkets use their hybrid creations to run their errands for them.”

A thin smile crossed Zakeera’s lips. “I’ll have to brush up on my latent powers.”

“Yes!” Varoon replied. “We see you have considerable talent in this field. You should enjoy the challenge. The Darkets will probably resort to their smaller infiltration craft, rather than risk a repeat of having to abort a larger invasion attempt. These smaller craft should be easier to divert to wasteland areas, to disappear without a trace.”

Zakeera’s eyes narrowed. “What are you proposing?”

“We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves or the Darkets. The people of Earth shouldn’t be influenced one way or the other. Now that we’ve made the Darkets aware of our presence in this solar system, they won’t attempt to take Earth by force. They will now try to infiltrate the planet’s community by manipulating key people in the world governments and societies. We can’t allow this to happen.”

“We can’t allow the people of Earth to become aware of our presence either,” said Zakeera.

“Yes … we must act as silent guardians, thwarting the efforts of the Darkemire Realm in their attempt to unduly influence the earth society. The people of Earth must choose the positive or negative path of their own freewill.”

“I’m still not sure what you’re saying?”

The WhiteStar members smiled in unison.

“We cannot have you blowing the Darket craft out of the sky, for all to see,” said Varoon. “Neither do we want the Darket craft self-destructing over populated areas. You’ll have to use your powers of telepathic coercion to merge with and control the pilots of these craft, guiding them to remote areas and crashing the craft before they are able to make a spectacle through their self-destruction, as they did with this recent episode.”

Later, Zakeera caught up with his friends in the café and explained to them Varoon’s instructions.

“Whew! That’ll be a challenge,” said Arkaydo.

“Yeah!” one of the other pilots agreed. “Do you think it’s possible?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Zakeera replied.

There was a momentary silence while each of them contemplated the likely outcome.

“You know,” said Arkaydo. “It’s possible this could backfire on us.”

Zakeera gave a curious glance. “How so?”

“If we’re not able to exert enough control over these craft to crash them into desolate areas, some of the debris may be recovered.”

“It’s possible,” Zakeera conceded.

“So what’s the point? If that were to happen, we’d make our presence just as noticeable as we would if we simply blew the Darkets out of the sky.”

“Not necessarily.”

All the pilots looked at Zakeera. He took another sip of his drink, taking his time as he thought about why the WhiteStars would have suggested this tactic.     “There’s distrust between countries on planet Earth. If what you say is right and some of the debris is recovered, they’re more likely to think it’s a secret weapon of an enemy nation.”

“Okaayy!” said Arkaydo, “So what you’re saying is that if any debris is discovered, the military of these countries will keep it secret, in the interests of National security.”

“Yep. Even if some of the debris is discovered, it’s more likely to be seen as terrestrial in origin, a secret weapon of an enemy nation. The knowledge of such discoveries will be restricted.”

“And do you think we’ll actually be able to do this?”

“I can’t see why not,” said Zakeera. “We all did it when we were younger, until it was instilled in us that it wasn’t morally correct. It’ll be an interesting challenge to see if I still have the same proficiency after all this time.”

****************************

Chapter 4b

Commander Zakeera didn’t have long to wait to put the new strategy into practice. On his next patrol of planet Earth a smaller Darket craft was located, just as Varoon had predicted.

“Keep close-by for back-up should I need it,” he said, relaying the message to the other patrol craft.  “But let me try a solo attempt first.”

The Commander, focusing his thoughts, soon felt his primal energy start to spiral up his spine and surge into his head. He visualized the instrument panel in front of him merging into a new format, as though he were viewing the interior of the Darket craft through the hybrid pilot’s eyes. The Darket creature clearly felt the intrusion and reached immediately for the self-destruct lever on the console. Just as its hand reached the lever, the full force of Commander Zakeera’s telepathic influence took control and the hybrid stiffened, obeying the new commands without question.

Zakeera steered the Darket craft by controlling the hybrid’s body. At first the flight pattern of the aircraft was erratic and uncertain. He concentrated his thoughts even further, until he felt as though he had become one with the creature and was in complete control of the Darket saucer.

Captain Arkaydo monitored the operation from his own craft. Suddenly the commander’s ship began to career wildly.

“ZAKEERA – YOU’RE LOSING IT!” Arkaydo yelled over the intercom. “ZAKEERA! GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER!  YOU’RE LOSING CONTROL!!”

The BlueStar, with a convulsive shudder, brought his full consciousness back to his own body, relaxing his projected control over the Darket creature.

“Whoa!” he said. “I am out of practice.”

“Yep!” said Arkaydo. “You almost lost it.”

Zakeera wiped the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his uniform.

“Do you want me to give it a go?” said Arkaydo, a hint of rivalry in his voice.

Zakeera grinned. “No! I’m only just beginning. You just hold off and watch the pro.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Arkaydo with a short laugh. “I just watched the pro almost crash his craft.”

“I’m just out of practice,” said Zakeera, his friend’s jibing making him even more determined to succeed.

“Okay!” Arkaydo laughed again. “I’ll pick up the pieces of your craft if you do crash.”

“I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction. Now watch how it’s done.”

The hybrid pilot, released from the mental stranglehold, had taken a few moments to orientate itself. When it finally realized what was happening, it reached for the self-destruct lever. Its fingers tightened around the lever and its hand shook as it tried to find the strength to push, but couldn’t. It was again under the control of the confederate commander’s projected willpower.

Sweat poured from Zakeera’s brow as he struggled to maintain the mental projection. At the same time, he was trying to retain enough consciousness to stay in control of his own craft. Both spaceships were flying erratically, only barely remaining airborne. He was tempted to ask the others for help, but his pride wouldn’t allow it. After all, it was only through his determination that he had achieved the rank of commander. With tenacity, he persisted with his projected command, adamant that he would succeed, like he’d always succeeded in the past.

He had pre-chosen the nearest deserted area on the planet and he instinctively guided both craft toward that location. With each passing moment his mental stamina was being drained and it took all his concentration to keep both craft in flight. As he descended gradually towards the planet surface he positioned his own craft considerably higher than the Darket saucer. He didn’t want to crash along with it.

The designated mountain range came into view. Rather than guiding it towards the more desolate areas, Zakeera decided to crash the Darket craft into the nearest peak. The mental fatigue was extreme and he couldn’t risk downing his own craft along with his quarry.

The Darket ship disintegrated on impact, but the explosion was small in comparison with the force of nuclear fission that would have occurred had the pilot been able to hit the lever. Zakeera took a deep breath and wiped the perspiration from his brow.

“Well done, Commander,” said Arkaydo.

“Yeah, thanks,” he replied, breathing heavy. “And thank you for warning me when I was losing it earlier on. Once again you’ve come to my rescue in the nick of time.”

“You’re welcome, brother,” Arkaydo replied with genuine concern in his voice. “That’s one up for me,” he added with a hint of rivalry.

“Okay, I owe you one … and I’ll need more practice. I think we’ll have to work in pairs from now on.”

“H’mmm … we might have a problem there.”

Arkaydo said no more, but Zakeera knew his friend well and could pick up on his thought patterns.

“You think we might lose a few if they increase their numbers and stretch our resources too thin?”

“That’s exactly what I’m thinking. All our Confederate pilots are of BlueStar status, but few are as adept in their coercive techniques as you are.”

“Well thank you for the acknowledgement, my friend. I was waiting for you to admit that.”

“Okay, okay … don’t get big headed about it. The others will all manage to prevent the hybrid pilots from hitting the self-destruct levers, but few will be able to guide the craft to isolated mountain ranges before crashing them.”

“Yeah!” Zakeera replied in a somber tone.

“So are we doing the right thing here with this tactic?”

Zakeera sighed. “We have no choice, my friend. The WhiteStars believe this is the best option, so we’ll run with it. We’ll just have to see how it develops and be prepared to change if needed.”

Chapter 5a

Aaden and Tiffany were both taking their time over breakfast before heading off to their morning classes. When their dad’s mobile phone sounded its chirpy chorus, Aaden glanced at the phone and looked around at his dad, who was in the kitchen, seemingly oblivious to the sound.

“Phone dad,” said Aaden, stating the obvious.

His dad continued pouring his coffee and finally sauntered over to the breakfast bar. Picking up the chirping phone, he waived it briefly in the air and said, “If there’s one thing I learnt at an early age, it’s never to let the phone rule your life.”

He looked at the caller ID and took a sip of his coffee before finally answering. “Adam Greene … how are you Jim?”

 Aaden reached for another piece of toast, ignoring the interruption, which was a regular feature of their mealtime routine, despite their dad’s insistence that the phone wouldn’t rule his life.

“Not this weekend, Jim. I’m heading to Roswell.” He gave a haughty laugh. “No, I’ll be staying well clear of the UFO festival.”

Both Aaden and Tiffany looked surprised at the unusual comment from their father.

 “I’ve been invited to speak at an environmental conference,” he continued. “It’s being sponsored by The City of Roswell and the Keep Roswell Beautiful committee. Sorry I can’t make it, Jim. Maybe next time. Okay … we’ll catch up later.”

He clicked off and raised his coffee mug to take another sip, oblivious to the stares from both Aaden and Tiffany.

“UFO festival?” said Aaden.

His dad laughed. “Roswell is the UFO capital of America. Didn’t you know?”

“Why’s that?” said Tiffany.

He flashed a comical frown, indicating his skepticism. “It dates back to an incident that happened in the 1940’s. Some people are convinced that an alien flying saucer crashed on a ranch out there.”

Aaden blinked. “A crashed alien saucer?”

His dad waved his hand to dismiss the idea. “It was later found to be only a crashed weather balloon.”

“If it was only a weather balloon, why do you say Roswell is the UFO capital?” said Tiffany.

With another skeptical look he said, “Because there are a lot of gullible people out there. They’ve even got a so-called International UFO Museum and Research Centre.”

“Sounds like fun,” said Aaden, surprising his dad. “Can we come with you to Roswell?”

His dad stared at him for a moment, seemingly unsure whether he was joking. “You don’t want to get caught up with that lot – besides, I’m not going anywhere near that museum.”

“No, but while you’re attending your conference, we can visit the museum. It’ll be fun, won’t it Tiffany,” said Aaden, winking at his sister.

“Ah, yeeahh …” she replied, staring at him. She sounded none-too convinced, but he knew she’d back him. She always did.

Their dad sat back, looking somewhat surprised. “What about the baseball game this weekend?”

In his enthusiasm to visit the UFO museum, Aaden had totally forgotten about the game he’d been keen to attend. He now had to weigh up which was more important. His visions of crashing spaceships and his need to find any tangible proof of such crashes won out.

“It’ll be a great game,” he said. “But you won’t be there and I was really looking forward to seeing it with you.”

His father seemed taken aback.

“We’ll catch the next game together,” said Aaden. “You’ll find a good home for the tickets, won’t you?”

“Well … yeah!” A thin smile formed. “They’re great seats – I could win some favors by giving those away. I know one person in particular who would love to get those tickets.”

“It’s done,” said Aaden. “Can Fleur come with us?”

Tiffany flashed a surprised look and Aaden immediately wondered whether he’d overstepped the margin. Although Fleur often came with them to shows, this was the first time he’d asked for something that involved a plane ticket. But he felt strongly that Fleur should come along and he knew his father could well afford it and was generous enough to pay.

 “Sure,” his dad replied, without hesitating. “I’ll get my secretary to check if there are seats available on that morning flight.”

“Great!” said Aaden. “Thanks, Dad.”

***************************

The next Saturday morning they arrived safely at Roswell airport. Their dad pushed a wad of cash into Aaden’s hand. “Here’s some money for the cab,” he said. “I’m heading off to my conference – make sure you’re all back here by five this afternoon, in time for the flight home.”

He gave them a wave and raised his hand to hail a cab, but then turned back to them. “Oh!” he said with a grin. “And make sure you don’t get abducted.” 

Aaden and the girls laughed at the unexpected remark.

“Don’t worry,” said Aaden. “If we do, we’ll try and send you a message … in a bottle.”

They all laughed again and Aaden waved down an approaching cab.

“We want to go to the International UFO and Research Centre,” said Aaden to the driver as the three of them got into the back seat. “Do you know where it is?”

“114 North Main St,” the driver replied smoothly.

The driver looked in the rear-view mirror and Aaden was taken aback by the intensity of the young man’s stare. He seemed to be studying each of their faces with more than just idle curiosity. Finally, he gunned the engine and pulled away from the curb.

After a few moments driving in silence, the driver said, “I guess you’ve heard of the UFO crash that happened back in the 1940’s?”

“I heard it was just a weather balloon,” said Tiffany.

He glanced in the mirror at her and there was amusement in his eyes.

“It was no weather balloon,” he said.

 “How do you know?” said Fleur.

He didn’t answer immediate. They all could see from the reflection of his eyes in the mirror that he was considering how much to say.

“My grandpa was a young boy when it happened,” he finally said. “He told me everything that happened.”

Fleur and Tiffany exchanged glances.

“But if your grandpa was only a boy, he would only know what he was told, wouldn’t he?” said Tiffany.

The driver nodded. “Yes, but the one who told him knew more than most. You see, my grandpa was friends with the son of Major Jesse Marcel, the one who picked up all the debris from the crash site.”

“Ah!” said Aaden, taking more interest. “So where did the idea of the weather balloon come from?”

“It was after they had already issued a statement saying that the remains of a flying saucer had been found. They needed a way to debunk the whole thing. Major Marcel had taken samples of the debris to a commanding officer and laid the stuff out on his desk for display.  The general wanted to see the exact location of the site, so he and Marcel went to the map room down the hall. When they returned, the wreckage that Marcel had brought had disappeared and in its place were the remains of a weather balloon. The famous photo of Major Marcel with the debris spread out on the floor was taken at that time and the report said the General recognized the debris as that of a weather balloon.”

“So what was the real debris like?” said Aaden, enthused. “Did your grandpa hear anything about that?”

“More than heard about it,” he said. “Ah, here we are.”

Aaden looked at the building they were approaching. Other than the large ‘UFO’ sign on the outside, the building was rather ordinary, although the lamp-post in the form of an alien face and small saucer embedded in the building gave enough evidence to show it was anything but ordinary.

“There’s another museum under construction,” said their driver. “It’s about eight blocks from here and it’s an amazing design, resembling a crashed saucer shape.”

“Can we go see it?” said Fleur.

“Too early yet – there’s nothing to see. All the information is here for the time being.”

“Oh!”

As though sensing their disappointment, he said, “Let me give you a guided tour of this museum.”

Aaden checked the money in his pocket and realized it was only enough for the cab rides and food money. “I haven’t got enough to pay for your time.”

“Don’t worry about that. I got an early start to my run this morning – I’ve worked long enough today. You just pay for the ride – the rest is on me. I’ve studied this since I was a young kid, ever since my grandpa told me about it. My name’s Ben.”

“Thanks for the offer, Ben. I’m Aaden.” He indicated to the girls. “This is Tiffany and Fleur.”

“It’s a deal then,” said Ben, nodding to the girls. “I’ll find a car-park and meet you back here soon.”

The first thing they saw as they walked into the reception area was a life-size model of an alien, holding a welcome sign. Aaden didn’t give it much notice, but both Tiffany and Fleur thought it was great.

“Take a photo,” said Fleur, handing her mobile to Tiffany and putting her arm around the shoulders of the alien mannequin.

Aaden watched as the girls took turns in taking photos of each other, but all the while he had the unnerving feeling that they were being watched. There were several people milling around the museum, but when the hairs on the back of his neck started rising, Aaden glanced around and immediately saw the source. A man on the far side of the room was staring at him and although Aaden didn’t recognize him, the energy coming from the man was familiar. It was the same foreboding energy that he’d experienced when he’d been struck by lightning and, more recently, associated with the face that had appeared on the computer screen in the library during the power surge. 

This is an excerpt of Aaden BlueStar – check back soon for the next installment (or earlier ones) … or you can download the full story HERE!