could get what we need, and retreat. What you do with them is of no concern to me.” Bosi paused, his dark eyes growing darker. “I do not wish to necessarily see them expire. All life has purpose, but I know any discussions with you regarding such a matter would fall on deaf ears.”
Jatorn hated the way Bosi spoke. He’d hated it for years. The stinking beast was so smug, so self-righteous, and matter of fact, it made his pale skin crawl. The good-intentioned words dripped out of the black, spit-webbed mouth of a disgusting, foul creature that looked as if all he could do was grunt and gurgle and run from anything that resembled water and soap. He ate dirt for God’s sake, graveled on the ground for nourishment like a pig in slop, but this was one of the few races in the universe, besides themselves, that could withstand Zarkstormian mind control. Furthermore, the Zarkstormian laser eyes took a lengthy time to cut the hairy bastards down.
Vex was too sneaky to be particularly trusted, but his people also had a rare gift against the Zarkstormians that he so desperately needed to utilize during this mission: the ability to completely disappear and not be detected, even by those damn warrior, laser red eyes. For decades, the Zarkstormians visited Earth, rousing his people’s curiosity, but he was the one that finally decided to take action once his peer, Xzion, had been spotted moonlighting in a place called Baltimore a wee bit too long. The Morphitians had released that information; more proof as to why they were so valuable. They were expert intelligence finders; it was part of their job after all. The more one knew about a species and their fears, the easier it was to manipulate and torture them with their own anxieties and punish them with thwarted desires.
According to Vex, initially, the dream derailers believed Xzion was there to cause them distress. However, once they realized they were not his target and he was doing as his predecessors had — killing Earthlings within a blink of his reddened eye — the Morphitians went along their merry, maniacal way. More importantly, they had the perfect skills to keep the humans in check and surely, they’d have a smorgasbord at their feet. The petrified screams of the Earthlings was music to a Morphician’s ears. Nightmares had a first name, and it was Vex. Jatorn had big issues, and needed a team to bring his dreams to fruition. The Morphicians had the power to mind-fuck the best of the best. It was a plan almost too perfect to believe. All Jatorn needed now was their agreement to participate.
The Yuledrakes had strength and aptitude. The Lyalts had power and stamina for a good paced fight. It was difficult, damn near impossible, to win a physical altercation with a warrior Zarkstormian; Jatorn didn’t kid himself. He knew his personal limitations. His people didn’t have what it took to get them under control should Zarkstormians come crawling to the Earthlings’ rescue. And, according to recent events, he had no doubt they would. Something was drawing them to Earth, and Xzion had stopped killing them cold turkey. That was so unlike a Zarkstormian Warrior… What was going on, Jatorn was not certain, but he was determined to get to the bottom of it.
“Bosi.” Jatorn grinned. “I know you mean well. I do. That’s what I’ve always admired about you. But you are right. I do not care about any humanitarian deeds. I only care about Yuledrakes’ needs and desires. It is my nature, and I do not profess to be anything other than what I am.” His fingers feathered the flowery fabric of his blouse. “However, with your assistance, your people will be sustained for the remainder of time and when I’m in complete control of Earth, their soil is yours to use. You can have as much as you need, anytime. It is compatible soil for your digestion needs. Not only that, you will have Yuledrake protection from invaders of your planet. Though Sartor doesn’t appeal to
Jatorn hated the way Bosi spoke. He’d hated it for years. The stinking beast was so smug, so self-righteous, and matter of fact, it made his pale skin crawl. The good-intentioned words dripped out of the black, spit-webbed mouth of a disgusting, foul creature that looked as if all he could do was grunt and gurgle and run from anything that resembled water and soap. He ate dirt for God’s sake, graveled on the ground for nourishment like a pig in slop, but this was one of the few races in the universe, besides themselves, that could withstand Zarkstormian mind control. Furthermore, the Zarkstormian laser eyes took a lengthy time to cut the hairy bastards down.
Vex was too sneaky to be particularly trusted, but his people also had a rare gift against the Zarkstormians that he so desperately needed to utilize during this mission: the ability to completely disappear and not be detected, even by those damn warrior, laser red eyes. For decades, the Zarkstormians visited Earth, rousing his people’s curiosity, but he was the one that finally decided to take action once his peer, Xzion, had been spotted moonlighting in a place called Baltimore a wee bit too long. The Morphitians had released that information; more proof as to why they were so valuable. They were expert intelligence finders; it was part of their job after all. The more one knew about a species and their fears, the easier it was to manipulate and torture them with their own anxieties and punish them with thwarted desires.
According to Vex, initially, the dream derailers believed Xzion was there to cause them distress. However, once they realized they were not his target and he was doing as his predecessors had — killing Earthlings within a blink of his reddened eye — the Morphitians went along their merry, maniacal way. More importantly, they had the perfect skills to keep the humans in check and surely, they’d have a smorgasbord at their feet. The petrified screams of the Earthlings was music to a Morphician’s ears. Nightmares had a first name, and it was Vex. Jatorn had big issues, and needed a team to bring his dreams to fruition. The Morphicians had the power to mind-fuck the best of the best. It was a plan almost too perfect to believe. All Jatorn needed now was their agreement to participate.
The Yuledrakes had strength and aptitude. The Lyalts had power and stamina for a good paced fight. It was difficult, damn near impossible, to win a physical altercation with a warrior Zarkstormian; Jatorn didn’t kid himself. He knew his personal limitations. His people didn’t have what it took to get them under control should Zarkstormians come crawling to the Earthlings’ rescue. And, according to recent events, he had no doubt they would. Something was drawing them to Earth, and Xzion had stopped killing them cold turkey. That was so unlike a Zarkstormian Warrior… What was going on, Jatorn was not certain, but he was determined to get to the bottom of it.
“Bosi.” Jatorn grinned. “I know you mean well. I do. That’s what I’ve always admired about you. But you are right. I do not care about any humanitarian deeds. I only care about Yuledrakes’ needs and desires. It is my nature, and I do not profess to be anything other than what I am.” His fingers feathered the flowery fabric of his blouse. “However, with your assistance, your people will be sustained for the remainder of time and when I’m in complete control of Earth, their soil is yours to use. You can have as much as you need, anytime. It is compatible soil for your digestion needs. Not only that, you will have Yuledrake protection from invaders of your planet. Though Sartor doesn’t appeal to
Similar Books
