COTLOP book project Lost final pre draft – 2.3
Notes: This story is more of what I had in mind around the time of the Lord of Powers creation. It’s further along time line wise than Book one.
Power attack moves and explanations (and yelling) and dark force warrior appearance/description will change a bit, mainly trying to find a set I like best that’s not much too much. I do like them but might get edited down by the time it gets published I dunno I want to offer one that’s reader safe and one that’s me safe LOL
Chronicles of the Lord of Power: Lost and Abandoned on the Dark, Lonely Road of the Stars.
Being found is worse than being lost. Being lost, you are free from all but self. Being found, you have to constantly worry about others. - Lord of Power.
Off in the white hazy mists beyond time and space. Seemingly endless rows of elegant, dark wrought iron tables with leaf and vine features matched by a pair of two chairs. Upon the table tops, random chess-like games are in play. These games will linger on until one side completely removes the other from all the other boards. In the middle of the sea of tables and chairs, two figures sit. One in tattered white and gray robes: his thin and long bearded face is pale, wrinkled, thin and wise, eyes sunken and sorrowful. He leans to one side as his eyes close and drifts off to sleep and drool starts down his cheek. A much darker figure sits across from him. Dressed in dark tattered robes made of fur, his broad dark face and sunken cheeks are marred by old scars. On the back of his head is a gnarled skull mask held in place by a twisted rope across his neck. His head is full of thin gnarly hair. His expression is grim and his deep crimson eyes seethe with rage. His features are burly yet contorted and seemingly corrupted by madness. He fell asleep where he sits eyes open with foam gathering at the corner of his mouth. He writhes in his slumber as violent dreams haunt the dark one's ungrateful rest. A bowl sits on each side of the empty chessboard: a black one with white stripes on the white side and a white bowel with dark zigzagging lines on the other where dark tatters inch their way to the board hoping to steal or distract . The chessboard vibrates as a white knight, queen and handful of dark pawns fade in. It appears this game has just begun.
Far away, back within the confines of creation, a derelict space ship, ravaged by time and the long journey on the lonely road of the stars, drifts silently amidst the colorful lights coming from various clusters of stars, dust and gas clouds. Their multi-colored light caresses the ship like light through tall cathedral stained glass. Upon the ships hind end, a curious unhinged panel rests with letters arranged upon it. They are human and crude, reading L. O. P. dash One. Light penetrates into the depths of the ship though holes upon its surface. Life still lingers within this seemingly dead coal as the multi-color light sparkles and shines within the darkness. Dozens of round, glowing, and solid energy spheres with a single large translucent cat's eye look on in awe while their master is oblivious to it. They are barely autonomous creatures, simple but fiercely loyal. They are called minions made by the master of the ship. Outside, near the outer hull, a minion peers out into the darkness, hoping to see signs of life or useable debris. It scans from left to right for a few moments then turns around and enters the spaceship through a large hole. Slowly it passes through the wreck and leaves the vacuum of space. It passes by a large, noisy box within which carbon dioxide molecules are produced via matter energy conversion and then viciously consumed by the endlessly hungry plant life form that sputters out an oxygen based atmosphere and enough energy to power the loud machine and seal the beast within it . It is a curiosity, since no one on board needs it to live: it's more of a comfort for the weary travelers within.
An orb smaller than a human head hovers over a grumbling man: his figure is plump, and he has a round, unkempt face with short brown hair. His eyes are blue and distant. He is dressed in heavily worn blue jeans, a torn white t -shirt, black boots, a brown faded fedora and a trench coat that has seen better days. His rough hands are working on some sort of circuit panel. His worn fingers paint pathways of light.
A slightly raspy woman's voice comes from the orb.
"You better hope that damn mold monster doesn't pop out of that piece of crap life support unit. You were hammering that thing together all week."
She pauses for a moment.
"On second thought, I don't want to talk about it. I had to use my last good repair drones to fish you off that planet and clean you up” she says humorously.
The man is working on some sort of large looking circuit panel. He links dim pathways of light as if he is drawing.
He says in a lightly stressed voice "yes, yes, I know, but it relaxes me."
The orb snarkily replies "What? Being covered in putrid green goo that wants to turn you into plant poo?"
"Why, yes, I like my balls being eroded away. "
He pauses for a moment, sighs, and then continues.
"But I prefer the smell of crappy life-support to a colorless and quiet void."
He places a panel over the circuit board.
"This one is good. Only ten thousand or so to go. Then again, we should hunt down whatever powers it and try to get the engines online again."
The orb rotates in place, blinking a bright yellow, dotted, bland and uninterested emoticon. She pauses, then says:
"So are we going to try the Light Force energy array? We obviously don't have any decent power source on my poor, precious ship."
The orb displays a crying emoticon, though with a hint of happiness.
He gives the orb a double take. "No? You're not making me into a human battery. Besides, the ship couldn't handle being plugged into my nipples. Remember what happened the last time we tried?"
The orb makes another sad emoticon. "So the array?"
With a half hopeful smile he replies. "Yeah, even if we run afoul of the powers that be, it's better than trying to repair the ship with blood and sweat alone."
He then gets up as they approach a door, it jerks itself open making an odd echoing sound and they find themselves in a corridor that leads to a maze of pathways: filled with disorganized cabling of all sizes branching off in different directions. As they walk down the maze, the orb leads the tattered man through the dimly lit corridors. The orb gives off some light, creating menacing shadows that bob and sway as they venture forth. The man stares at the cabling coming from the ceiling and follows it with his eyes as he recalls a troubling past experience with cabling. He remembers falling through a ceiling panel while tied up in super energized cables, dangling like a marionette and jerking ever so slightly as the energy coursed through him randomly. He covers his face and grasps his forehead, remembering the worst part of it. The repair drone was cutting the cables and missed, cutting off a couple limbs. He sighs just before he stumbles and falls over a large stack of cabling, hitting his head as his hat floats gently to the ground.
The orb continues forward. "Keep up slow poke, or I will leave you down here."
He grabs his hat as he stands up. He staggers a bit, trying to catch up with the orb.
"Do that and there will be many more holes in your precious ship."
The orb stops at a battered door. "Tsk tsk tsk, do you always have to resort to brute force?"
Casting dim light and shadow on the door illuminating the hanger bay 13 sign.
The man stares at the faded number as he walks up to the orb. "So out of the 40 or so un-collapsed hanger bays we have, this is the one we have to go through?"
The orb sighs. "Well, it's the only one not wrecked and totally exposed to space. Want to go on another space trip skipping across asteroids like last time?"
The man energetically replies . "Er, no, no more wasting time... and I was not skipping, damn it! Unless you can skip on your head..."
The orb laughs. "True. At least you came back whole that time." She pauses for a moment. "Mmmmm!??"
The man looks at the orb puzzled. "What's wrong now?"
The orb scans the door. "It's been beaten in so much that it's warped, buckling in on this side."
The man pushes against the door, grunting. "That, ugh, much is obvious. Ugh. Do you sense anything on the other side?"
"Scanning. No, the door is just bent in from the other side."
The man stops and thinks for a moment then asks with an evil grin. "Hey Sandy?”
The orb replies ”That’s my name, yes?”
The man stares fondly at the door then asks “Can I blow it up?"
Sandy scurries behind him. "Ugh, fine. Just keep the damage to a minimum."
He gives the buckled in door an evil smile as he moves back. He whips his tattered trench coat off his hip and pulls out a long object that's covered in bandages. He then waves the object to the right, then up and down; the bandages fall around him in a circular motion. As the bandages fall to the floor, they reveal a sheathed golden brown shirasaya. His eyes radiate a glowing blue mist as energy lines start pulsating away from the man onto the sword. He points the end at the door as energy starts compressing into a ball on the end; a moment of silence covers the area as a bead of sweat runs down his check. As the final bandage hits the floor, a blurring beam of concentrated energy hits the door and fills the area with intense blue energy. The door moves for a second, then stops. As he continues, the door withstands the assault. He glares at the door through the hazy, rebounding energy and pushes himself forward, forcing the energy into every crevice and molecule of the door's recesses and archway. Crackling sounds echo down the hallway as cracks start forming along the areas touched by the door. Suddenly the door and its whole archway go blasting off across the hanger bay floor with a great WOOSHING sound. It slams into several different fighters, coming to a rest far off in the distance. Amongst the rubble and a few random untouched fighters lay the hunk of ejected metal. It glows far off within the darkness as they enter the gaping, yet still glowing hole. As bandages slowly snake out from under his coat arm and cover the sword, the tattered man and his floating orb companion soon realize something is amiss.