Blade of the Lucan: A Memory of Anstractor

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Authors: Greg Dragon
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a proper death to a creature whose passions rivaled hers. But Palus Felitious would have won, Amanxa and her people would die of starvation, and she would never be found. This thought kept her strong, and the cat could not shake her. I will finish the mission , she mumbled to herself, I am a Phaser and we finish the mission . 
    After a long time the big cat gave up quietly, and crouched down, breathing heavily while Marian clung on with her eyes closed, wincing from the pain.
    She risked removing one hand to take out a black crystal and clutched it close, determined not to use it but thinking she should. When she got off the cat’s back and retreated, crouching low, she sighed in relief when the mother didn’t bother to follow.
    “Okay, no more hatch kittens,” she said out loud and then turned and began sprinting through the tall yellow brush.
    ~ * ~
    When Marian hadn’t returned and didn’t report in, Marika decided it was time to get serious with a promise that she had made to Rafian. “I will bring her home safely,” she had told him, and he had believed her when she said it. If she were to show up back on Anstractor without his wife, she could only imagine the type of supernova that would result from his anger. An angry Rafian was something none of the Phasers had seen. Sure, he got upset sometimes, or disappointed, but angry? She would rather not be there to witness that event.
    She had spent the day watching the streets of Veece from her vantage point up in the hills, then packed it up and took the bike home when the suns were setting. When she got near the ranch-styled house surrounded by pools of murky water, she stopped to take it all in from a distance. The place looked like the setting of a children’s story: it had white flowers surrounding it, growing wild and beautiful in their own way, and the trees grew so close that they formed a canopy, concealing it from anyone flying above.
    She parked the bike and covered her tracks as she crept towards the back door. Better safe than sorry, she thought, and there was no evidence that Marian had returned. When she got inside, the place was empty, and she kicked off her boots and triggered the heating mechanism to warm the house.
    She misted herself to clean up for the evening, and then pulled out a number of frozen meats and vegetables to deposit into the strange, self-heating pot that sat inside the kitchen. The pot was a curiosity that she wanted to take back to show her boyfriend, Vallen. You would place frozen items into its narrow top, and a chemical reaction would cook them to perfection in about fifteen minutes.
    She took her meal into the living area and sat atop one of the many pillows that were thrown haphazardly around the room. It felt good to be on her backside after laying prone for hours earlier, and she scanned the room for entertainment to complete the relaxation. There was a small piece of furniture which resembled an ottoman, sitting central to the room. She saw a keypad, so she leaned forward and touched it and a hologram grew from it to take up the room.
    Marika was impressed, and played with the keypad, seeing that she could adjust the size, color, and transparency of the hologram. After a while she was back on her pillow, watching what she assumed to be a drama, but it was in the Tyheran language that she didn’t understand.
    “Wish that I’d thought about bringing a translator clip,” she said out loud, then muted the volume in order to listen to the wind blowing through the trees. The rustling of the leaves was therapeutic, and she thought of Vallen and how much she needed his muscular arms around her own.
    She stretched out her long, shapely, coral legs, and glanced at her feet with some concern.
    “Maybe we should give you two a massage later on,” she said, and then wiggled her long but well-formed toes. Part of the black polish had chipped on the right big toe and she hissed her teeth, annoyed at its imperfection.
    When she

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