Guardian of the Gate: The Forge

The Forge

The stout gentleman wielding the hammer stopped mid-blow and stared in the direction of the visitor. Owen Bruce hadn’t seen the woman in over a decade. “What brings you to my shop, Earthshaker?”

Ailith Drake stepped forward into the glow of the forge. “I need your clarity, Ironmonger. I am troubled by strange visions. They make little sense to me.”

The smith dropped the hammer against the steel continuing to work on the blade while Ailith took a seat nearby. Ailith watched him work. Her mind drifted back to an earlier time.

At the center of the maze, a heavy beam secured the iron door from the inside of the room. The other end of the maze started with a narrow passage that opened into a series of caverns and passageways deep beneath the mountain. At the center of the room slept an ancient winged creature, well protected from the swords and arrows of brazen adventurers.

A cascade of pebbles echoed down the shaft above rousing the dragon from her slumber. A short while later a second cascade fell, then silence returned. At the top of the shaft, a young mage waited for her arrival. She shot up the shaft and rose into the sky before settling gently to the ground. “Why have you called me?”

“Something is coming for you, Earthshaker. I did not want you to be caught unawares.”

Deep below, the iron door gave way, splintering the heavy beam, as the brute rammed its way through. The ogre skidded across the room on his back, having lost his footing on the pebbles. His surprised roar echoed up the shaft.

On a whim, the young dragon returned the roar of the beast below before grabbing the young mage and descending into the dark chamber below. Upon arrival, the mage dusted himself off. “You could have asked first, you know. Or at least given me a warning.” He created a ball of light to illuminate the chamber, thus revealing the heavily armored intruder.

After his eyes had adjusted to the light, the ogre found a young maiden standing over him offering to help him to his feet. The mage set the ball of light afloat in the air. “She stronger than she looks,” he said to the brute. “Let her help you up. You wouldn’t want to insult your host, would you?”

It was the beginning of a centuries-long friendship between the two. She had helped him many times in the past despite his initial intent to snuff out her life. Now, she sat in his shop patiently waiting for him to finish despite the pained desperation showing on her face. He plunged the still dull sword into the temper and hung up his hammer. “It’s done well enough to serve its purpose.” He walked over to where she sat. “Come, let’s grab a cuppa and you can tell me all that troubles you.”

Ailith sipped her tea and slowly went over the strange visions that had been plaguing her over the past few months. “Well? Does any of this make sense?”

Owen pulled his smart phone out of his pocket and opened up an app. “I want you to listen to this podcast. Tell me if you hear anything unusual in it.” The voice of a young woman introduced herself and her guest. About twenty minutes into the podcast, the subject of anomalous signals arose. The guest played a recording that he had made of a nearby pulsar.

The color drained from Ailith’s face as her mind latched on to the mysterious message and began to decode it. Owen stopped the playback. “Ailith?” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright? You’ve gone all pale and starry-eyed.”

Ailith blinked, then nodded. The color returned to her face. “I could use another cup of tea. I need time to think, to take it all in.”

“There may not be time. You need to move on this, to take action, to call your troops.”

Guardian of the Gate: The Glyphs

Ailith Drake sat on the third-floor bedroom balcony of a suburban McMansion located in a cul-de-sac. She was staring at the sky and listening to an incoming radio transmission. She wasn’t actually there. She was physically located at a desk in front of a computer whose screen had just gone blank while she stared blankly at the wall in front of her.

For the past few weeks she had been intercepting transmissions of encrypted data packets between the stranger and an object in space. The stranger sat at a small table on which sat a metallic box. A cable ran from the back of the box to a nearby satellite dish on the roof. A wire ran from the front of the box to a spot on the stranger’s forehead, who was somehow controlling the box by varying the pressure of their digits against the sides of the device.

Sometime during the previous transmissions, the transmitted glyphs started to make sense to Ailith. Earlier transmissions had been rather mundane in nature – a commentary on the daily life of an ordinary human. This transmission was massive, containing several large packets of data regarding varying defense systems. The corresponding incoming transmissions were even larger. They were intricate details of a planned invasion: troop strength, landing sites, and strategic targets.

Ailith brought up a map of the Earth on her computer screen and slowly started to search for the house where the stranger was living. Locating the structure proved easier than she expected. She smiled as she zoomed in to street level on the house. With the details fresh in her head, she typed the specifics into a document for later reference. It was late by the time Ailith finished her transcription. In the morning, she would go see an old friend.

Guardian of the Gate: The Interim

After spending a few hours online, Eldon placed a call to Wanda. “It looks like the signal was just a satellite data stream.” He sighed. “I’m sorry if I got your hopes up, but it was still nice seeing you again.”

“We should get together more often. Maybe we could discuss pulsars and other radio signals from space on my podcast.”

“I’d have to get permission from Professor Pike for any public appearances. I’ll let you know. And thanks for the URL to that sound editing software. It’s a time saver.”

Eldon went back to work on his Master’s project. For the next few weeks, he immersed himself in his work. Occasionally, the strange signal would reappear during high school tours. Eldon noted the time and went back to his research. After several months, he had a notebook full of data on the occurrence of the odd signal. He also had reached the end of his study.

Deciding that a break was in order, he called Wanda to confirm that her office was still available before securing permission to appear on her podcast. Professor Pike was enthusiastic about the idea and even loaned several of the observatory’s recordings to Eldon for the podcast.

“Hello everyone and welcome to this week’s edition of The Interim. This week’s guest is a former schoolmate of mine. Say hello to Eldon Speck. Eldon is a radio-astronomer working at Red Rock Radio Observatory and he’s brought with him some music of the stars. Say hello to our listeners, Eldon.”

“Hello, people out there on planet Earth. I’m Eldon Speck and I’m happy to be here.”

“I understand that you brought along some tapes of radio signals from some objects in the night sky.”

“Not all of them are night sky objects. You can hear radio signals in the daytime as well. We often focus our legacy antenna on the Crab Nebula during school tours and let them listen to the Crab Pulsar, which happens to be the first recording I’m going to play.” A slow, steady clicking noise like the sound of a metronome fills the studio. Eldon quickly adjusts the volume. “Sorry about that. Anyway, what you are hearing is the slow steady pulse from the Crab Nebula pulsar.”

“How would you describe the next pulsar we are about to hear?”

“B1933 emits a strong regular beat, much like the ticking of a loud clock.” Eldon played several other recordings of pulsars with shorter periods as the hour wore on before ending the podcast with the sound produced by a local doppler radar station.

Guardian Of The Gate: The Ratio

Eldon needed the tape examined by an expert. After a short phone call, he had an appointment to meet with Wanda Evers, a sound technician who worked for a Lehigh Valley filmmaker. She kept a small studio in her Franklin Township home where she taped and edited her podcasts. Eldon arrived with three reels of magnetic tape in his backpack – the recording of the abnormality, an older recording of the Crab Pulsar, and a “blank sky” recording. After several minutes of coffee and conversation, the two old friends adjourned to Wanda’s studio.

Wanda loaded all three sound profiles into her computer. “This will be a first. I’m usually asked to remove noise from a recording, which is what the first pass will accomplish. But this will be the first time that I will be removing a significant signal from a recording to look at some noise.” After a few passes, the software was able to remove the noise of the pulsar and the background radiation from the recent recording. The remaining signal was almost musical. But the question of whether it was deliberate remained. Wanda emailed the resulting digital file to Eldon.

Eldon opened the email on his laptop and listened to the rhythmic clicking emanating from its speakers. “It looks like what I thought were glitches were actually instances of signal interference between the pulsar and whatever this is.”

“Based on my quick calculations, the signal-to-noise ratio is one point one between the pulsar and the new signal. If you figure out what it is, could you let me in on it?”

“It could be nothing, maybe a satellite flyby or the ISS. I’ll have to check out what was up where first, but I promise not to leave you hanging. Now, about this documentary you were working on.”

Guardian Of The Gate: The Emission

“The best part about being a radio-astronomer is being able to work from nine to five. The large dish on the top of this building listens to sounds from space twenty-four hours seven days a week.” Professor James Pike, the facility’s chief astronomer, led the small group of high school seniors into the control center for the Red Rock Large Array. “Although the large array is currently committed to monitoring a spatial anomaly, we can focus the legacy dish toward a local phenomenon and let you listen in on its activity.”

Eldon Speck tried not to yawn, but he was bored. He never got any work done when the high school tour groups came through. The man conducting the tour sat down at Eldon’s console. “The radio-telescope monitors a wide range of frequencies listening for signals. Usually the source is a pulsar. Sometimes we get reflected signals bounced back from nearby objects.” He flipped a switch and a speaker sprang to life with static. He turned a knob, slowly advancing the indicator needle along the scale. A sudden squeal followed by the sound of a metronome flooded the room. “That sound you hear is from a pulsar in the Crab Nebula.”

“What’s that other noise?” Eldon asked on cue after a reasonable pause.

“Background static.” The astronomer leaned forward and flipped a switch marked ‘Squelch’. Fortunately, we have a way of filtering that out. The majority of the background noise disappeared. The rhythmic “click...click...click” of the pulsar became clearer. Eldon could hear something else; something that neither his boss nor the visiting high school students heard. There was interference in the signal that wasn’t normal.

While Dr. Pike led the students into the main control center for the large array, Eldon made a recording of the repeating pattern. His research for his Master’s Thesis would have to wait while he pursued this little mystery. After a few days of attempting to decode the signal, he called on a friend.

Guardian of the Gate: The Three

Once upon a time, not so long ago, there were fairies and elves and a plethora of other magical creatures that roamed the earth. But over time they faded away into the ethereal Shadow Realm and became little more than legends and myths told to amuse children.

Every so often, the denizens of the Shadow Realm would cross into the realm of Man to see what had become of the world they left behind. And sometimes, they would leave behind one of their own to act as a Guardian of the Gate between the two realms. Often the one chosen to remain behind was one of the elders nearing the end of their life, but every once in a while, it would be a fairy child raised as a mortal child. Of course, the child would have no knowledge of their true nature until their powers began to slowly emerge. This necessitated regular visitation by the current Guardian to the child to keep them from exposing their true selves to their human parents or other humans lest they come to harm. Per an ancient accord, there are normally three Guardians assigned to the mortal side – a fairy, an elf, and a dragon.

Beyond the Shadow Realm, there are other realities. Some of them are worlds full of malicious beings, constantly at war with each other. And on occasion their wars spill over. In centuries past, the Guardians have kept them at bay. But not every threat comes through the Veils. And therein lies the tale.

The Corellian [Star Wars/The Mandalorian Fanfic]

The forested moon of Algol lays at the edge of a far-flung system. It had once been a rich source of iron ore, but the mines ran out decades ago. Only a few stragglers remain in the decaying settlement. The Razor Crest lands in the old spaceport. An Ugnaught stands ready to greet the pilot of the old ship. The Mandalorian emerges followed by the Child.

“Welcome to Tirith. I am Boon, mayor of this humble village. What brings you to the wastelands?”

Din Djarin bends down to pick up the Child before answering. “Supplies.”

The Ugnaught tilts his head. “We don’t have much, but we are willing to share. Come with me. It is the hours of rest before returning to the crops.” He beckons to the Mandalorian as he turns toward the remains of the town.

The Mandalorian follows the Ugnaught to a large structure where a group of Ugnaughts have gathered. They are busy sitting at large tables and dining on food gathered from several large crates. The Ugnaught sweeps his arm toward the crates. “Please, take what you need back to your ship. All we ask is that you leave the crate behind. Supply ships don’t come here since the mines ran out decades ago.”

“Thank you.” Din walks over to the crates of food and begins to inspect the contents. After a few minutes, he picks out a nearly empty crate and begins to fill it with a variety of fruits and vegetables. The child sniffs the air before climbing into a crate and biting into a piece of fruit resembling a purple pineapple. Din removes the Child from the crate and places a half-dozen of the purple orbs into his borrowed crate.

As he picks up the filled crate to return to the Razor Crest, Din notices that the child has crawled back into the crate of purple fruit. Before he can take action, Boon picks up the crate with the Child. “Hungry little thing, isn’t he?”

Din nods in response. “Thank you all for the food. What do I owe you?”

“It’s not often that we get visitors. The burning question is – are we an Empire or a Republic?”

“The Empire is gone.” Several of the townspeople gasp at the news. “There are still pockets controlled by warlords, but the New Republic is slowly gaining control of the fringes.”

Boon nods. “Good, good. Maybe now there will be more visitors. We are a forgotten people. Perhaps you could send some traders our way.”

Boon accompanies the Mandalorian back to his ship. Din unpacks the contents, then trades the empty crate for the one containing the child. A small ship lands nearby as Boon starts down the ramp with the crate. At the bottom, he meets two Rodian bounty hunters on speeder bikes. They draw their blasters while the one on the left demands that Boon raises his hands. He drops the crate and complies. “Where’s the Mandalorian?”

“Is he in the ship?” the other Rodian adds.

An old woman steps out from the shadow cast by the Razor Crest. She is wearing the logo of a Corellian shipyard on her tunic. “There is no one in the ship,” she replies smiling at the gunmen. She places herself between the gunmen and Boon. “This is my ship. I stopped here to restock my pantry.”

The Rodian on the right pulls out a tracker. “She’s lying. The tracker says the asset is here.”

She stares him down as she walks slowly toward them speaking softly. “You have no tracker. That’s a womp rat in your hand. You will drop it before it bites you and destroy it with your blaster.” At her suggestion, the Rodian does exactly that. She stops advancing on them and raises her voice to a more audible level. “You have no business here. You need to leave. Now, apologize and go.”

“We need to leave,” the Rodian tells his companion. “We’re sorry to have bothered you.” They turn their speeders around and rush back to their ship.

The woman watches the bounty hunters board their ship and take off. She turns and walks back to where Boon is standing. She places her hand on his shoulder. “You can relax now. They won’t be coming back.”

The Mandalorian emerges from the Razor Crest and approaches the old woman. “You are a Jedi.”

“I am a Corellian,” she replies, extending her hand. “Cydd Darra, Master Shipwright.” The Child appears from behind the Mandalorian and waddles over to the old woman with his arms in the air. She kneels and welcomes him into her arms. “Hello, little one. It’s been over half a century since I saw one of your kind last.”

“He seems to trust you.”

“We have something in common. The Rodian bounty hunters were looking for the two of you. How did you come by him?”

“I was sent to find him.”

“You were paid a bounty for him. Yet, you stole him back.”

The Mandalorian draws his blaster, “Get out of my head.”

“I’m not in your head, but I was in theirs.” She points to the departing ship just before it disappeared above the clouds. “Why bring him here? There are other places far better suited for taking on supplies than this backwater moon.”

“I’m trying to find his people. I heard that the Jedi might know who they are.”

“So, you came here looking for a Jedi?”

“What about his people? Do you know anything about them?”

Cydd smiled. “A little. I met one of his kind, a Jedi Master named Yoda, over sixty years ago. He was over eight hundred years old and stood no higher than my shoulder at the time. I was barely a meter high myself. And I was in trouble when we met.”

“Corellian Security was looking for me, but I shrank into a dark corner and disappeared while they searched the area. I had caused a fair amount of havoc during a fit of pique, upturning ships and tossing around crates making a mess of a local docking bay. Fortunately, a strange visitor easily swayed CorSec to leave.”

“The green-skinned alien waited until the dust had fully settled before putting to right what I had sent asunder. I watched from my hiding place as he righted the ships in the yard that I had flipped over. When he finished, he came over to where I sat. He helped me to my feet.”

“He had a strange way of speaking. ‘Yoda, I am.’ That’s how he introduced himself. ‘Cydd Darra, you are,’ he knew my name.”

“I asked him what he was and he replied ‘Jedi, I am.’ I rephrased my question. ‘Where do you come from? Who are your people?’”

“’Jedi, I am,’ he repeated. ‘Jedi, you must be,’ he insisted.”

“‘I don’t want to be a Jedi. I want to build ships,’ I protested.”

“‘Teach you, I must. Control, you will learn. Fear, you will not. When yourself you have mastered, then ships you may build.’ He trained me, taught me how to control the force, to control my emotions, and to use the force for guidance.”

“Do you know where I might find him?”

“The last I’d heard; he had passed on. I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you more. But if you ever find yourself in need of my help, just tell the Child. He’ll know how to contact me.” Cydd winks at the Child and hands him back to the Mandalorian. He watches her while she helps to carry the empty crates back to the common house in the village. He carries the Child on board the Razor Crest and lifts off.

After the Mandalorian leaves, the settlement falls eerily silent.