A human settler and his Lyran mate check out their new homestead.
Homesteading in the year 2500
- Thread starter Magus
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I need one of those Lyran gals... maybe she'd cut me some slack on the partying since I'm a cat owner, yeah? 
Wait till you see the claws come outI need one of those Lyran gals... maybe she'd cut me some slack on the partying since I'm a cat owner, yeah?
.I kinda get the feeling they are related to the Kzinti.
Oh, they like human men. trouble is, you'd better wear a leather jacket to bed or you'll look like you were flogged the morning after! and the females are the ones who propose marriage, if she loves you, she will bite your shoulder to let her sisters know you're taken! after a few months, she will whore you out to her rich friends and relatives for status! I keep seeing more and more of their ships on youtube, so you might get a chance!I need one of those Lyran gals... maybe she'd cut me some slack on the partying since I'm a cat owner, yeah?
A K'zinti would run from them! The females run things on their world, being a matriarchy. there are three species actually. the Du'Ahn, which are redheads and can actually sort of interbreed with us, the Sul'Taa, who are smaller and brown, and the "Mountain Behemoths" which resemble snow leopards and top in at about eight feet tall.Wait till you see the claws come out
Can you tell there is a book coming?
Still editing. I almost have the sailor talk and bedroom Olympics dealt with. LOL
A bit more art? It's hard to get it squeaky clean or it'll kill it! If you like Firefly, it's up your alley!
A bit more art? It's hard to get it squeaky clean or it'll kill it! If you like Firefly, it's up your alley!
A couple more,
I'm feeling artsy.
Fun fact, the robot tank is actually a cyborg. a wounded vet waiting on a new body to be cloned.
I'm feeling artsy.
Fun fact, the robot tank is actually a cyborg. a wounded vet waiting on a new body to be cloned.
I'm betting you want a taste huh? OK.
The Na'Khaan.
My guts went into my throat as the breaking rockets did their thing.
In a few minutes, I'd either be splattered all across the oxide desert in
crispy chunks or admiring my new home, the former POW colony
unimaginatively named "Ralph", a rotten, dusty, trilithium-rich planet
of about three-quarters of Earth's gravity, just big enough to hold
captive a breathable Oxygen-Helium atmosphere, at least most of its 380
day year, the other part of the year, the northern hemisphere dries
out and the Trilithium dust cuts lovely little microscopic chunks out
of your lungs, giving one the characteristic bloody cough. Oddly, the
Lyrians who leased the place to Earthgov seem almost immune until
the worst of the season, but at least for seven of the nine months of
the year, one could go about without a respirator, the final months
one had to either hold up, use a dust mask, or at worst, go full suit. I
myself, plan to mine Tychanyte crystals in the dry season. screw
Trilithium breath, I don't care if it heals up after you cease exposure,
Hacking up blood doesn't sound very healthy! I thought as I
unstrapped myself from the drop ship pilot seat, shouldered my gear
and climbed down the exit ladder to check out what I'd gotten myself
into. the living dome was of fair size. a ten thousand gallon fresh
water supply, but the former owner suggested I drill a new well if I
installed a fourth extractor. I had three trilithium extractors, I'd be
putting in a fourth soon. decent-sized greenhouse, I won't starve at
least. I was to be the place's third inhabitant in a decade, the other
two families got rich and went back to earth-space. as for myself, I
plan to stay. I've had quite enough "civilization" for one life, the "wild
west" type life would suit me just fine after two wars and an ever
oppressive government, I figure a couple of years and I can afford a
clone wife or maybe interest a natural born in settling with me and
raise some kids to leave the place to.
I placed my palm on the identity lock and then slid my card into the
reader, presto. I officially own you, I thought as the mechanism
folded itself up and fell away from the door for storage and
reuse. something shiny caught my eye, a thumb-sized Tychanite
crystal had gotten blown here by the savage winds during the winter
dry season, I admired it's sponge like, porous, mirrored surface a
moment before pocketing it. an omen of good things to come, I
mused as I entered the dome.
The former owner had left the Trilithium extractors running in his
absence, very thoughtful of him, each bay was full of refined
Trilithium ingots, six months of work already done! Time to unload
the sand walker, load up this nice freebie and lay in supplies. the
extractors had been programmed to shut down once the bays were
full and resume once empty. I looked at the pile of oxide slag that had
Accumulated. Pity there's no use for the stuff other than landfill.
maybe if it was mixed with a bonding agent like lime it would make
decent red concrete? probably not, it was like ground talc, and by the
winter wind storms would be spread to the four winds. It was then I
saw the Mrn'Hnn vines growing at the base of the mound. In the fall,
The vines would produce large, football-shaped, bright yellow
"melons" the flesh of which tasted like mango, but the reddish
Yellow-striped seeds were powerful hallucinogens unless roasted,
properly prepared, they tasted like spicy popcorn. The Lyrans loved
them, but an undercooked one to a human was a two-hour trip into a
technicolor-kissed world of overly bright colors and distorted sounds.
the daily recommended dose of Tryptophan, I laughed. Time to move in,
wake up the drones and get them busy, then head to town to cash in.
The Na'Khaan.
My guts went into my throat as the breaking rockets did their thing.
In a few minutes, I'd either be splattered all across the oxide desert in
crispy chunks or admiring my new home, the former POW colony
unimaginatively named "Ralph", a rotten, dusty, trilithium-rich planet
of about three-quarters of Earth's gravity, just big enough to hold
captive a breathable Oxygen-Helium atmosphere, at least most of its 380
day year, the other part of the year, the northern hemisphere dries
out and the Trilithium dust cuts lovely little microscopic chunks out
of your lungs, giving one the characteristic bloody cough. Oddly, the
Lyrians who leased the place to Earthgov seem almost immune until
the worst of the season, but at least for seven of the nine months of
the year, one could go about without a respirator, the final months
one had to either hold up, use a dust mask, or at worst, go full suit. I
myself, plan to mine Tychanyte crystals in the dry season. screw
Trilithium breath, I don't care if it heals up after you cease exposure,
Hacking up blood doesn't sound very healthy! I thought as I
unstrapped myself from the drop ship pilot seat, shouldered my gear
and climbed down the exit ladder to check out what I'd gotten myself
into. the living dome was of fair size. a ten thousand gallon fresh
water supply, but the former owner suggested I drill a new well if I
installed a fourth extractor. I had three trilithium extractors, I'd be
putting in a fourth soon. decent-sized greenhouse, I won't starve at
least. I was to be the place's third inhabitant in a decade, the other
two families got rich and went back to earth-space. as for myself, I
plan to stay. I've had quite enough "civilization" for one life, the "wild
west" type life would suit me just fine after two wars and an ever
oppressive government, I figure a couple of years and I can afford a
clone wife or maybe interest a natural born in settling with me and
raise some kids to leave the place to.
I placed my palm on the identity lock and then slid my card into the
reader, presto. I officially own you, I thought as the mechanism
folded itself up and fell away from the door for storage and
reuse. something shiny caught my eye, a thumb-sized Tychanite
crystal had gotten blown here by the savage winds during the winter
dry season, I admired it's sponge like, porous, mirrored surface a
moment before pocketing it. an omen of good things to come, I
mused as I entered the dome.
The former owner had left the Trilithium extractors running in his
absence, very thoughtful of him, each bay was full of refined
Trilithium ingots, six months of work already done! Time to unload
the sand walker, load up this nice freebie and lay in supplies. the
extractors had been programmed to shut down once the bays were
full and resume once empty. I looked at the pile of oxide slag that had
Accumulated. Pity there's no use for the stuff other than landfill.
maybe if it was mixed with a bonding agent like lime it would make
decent red concrete? probably not, it was like ground talc, and by the
winter wind storms would be spread to the four winds. It was then I
saw the Mrn'Hnn vines growing at the base of the mound. In the fall,
The vines would produce large, football-shaped, bright yellow
"melons" the flesh of which tasted like mango, but the reddish
Yellow-striped seeds were powerful hallucinogens unless roasted,
properly prepared, they tasted like spicy popcorn. The Lyrans loved
them, but an undercooked one to a human was a two-hour trip into a
technicolor-kissed world of overly bright colors and distorted sounds.
the daily recommended dose of Tryptophan, I laughed. Time to move in,
wake up the drones and get them busy, then head to town to cash in.
Oxygen/helium? I just have this vision of everyone on the planet talking a little like they’ve been breathing from a balloon. Just kidding! Interesting start!
Just kidding! Interesting start!
Wait until you meet the locals, they talk like a box full of angry tomcats anyway.
Just because a few care:
I got to get back to editing this thing. LOL
First couple of chapters, more to come maybe.
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
Have another one. its probably not finished.
It's turning all "space opera" on me.
Anybody going to read this stuff?
When time permits. I try to read all the stories folks post at some point
