Stranded on a Tiny Planet

At the other edge of the forest on the borders of the wasteland was the encampment of the Ansheetan enemies the Rogashay. The Rogashay were a semi-nomadic species, standing almost twice the height of their Ansheetan rivals. The males of the species had very thick, dark gray colored hide with dappling of much lighter color across their face, front, and hands. The females were much lighter in color and had less of the speckling. Their torsos were wide and scaled with upraised, bendable plates that gradually grew smaller as they raced to the extremities; ideal to deflect the suns’ rays as well as injuries. Unlike the feathery scales of the Ansheetan the Rogashay sported hard, crested plates across their brows and forehead in various formations which gave them a regal yet rough appearance. The males’ forehead crests tended to be taller and heavier than their female counterparts. Tiny spikes jutted from their eye ridges and their yellowish green eyes glinted with a wild fierceness. Similar to the Ansheeta, they lacked a jutting nose and had very little in the way of lips.

Unlike their rivals the Ansheeta, the Rogashay could not fly so their main form of transport was riding their sand dragons across vast distances. The sand dragons were one of the largest beasts inhabiting the planet. The bulky, giant lizards looked very much like Earth’s extinct Triceratops crossed with a monitor lizard. From their heavy, crested heads sprouted two to four pointed horns. Their snake-like mouths were filled with small yet sharp teeth, perfect for tearing flesh. They were a fearsome beast and five times the size of their riders. Only by hatching the eggs and letting the young hatchlings imprint upon them from the moment they emerged could the Rogashay master these beasts. For the Rogashay they were beasts of burden and guardians as well.

And sitting atop his impressive, four horned, sand dragon was Boroxle, the leader of the Rog Bandits. Tall for his species, the Rogashay, and taut with defined musculature beneath his tough hide, his very presence commanded respect. Boroxle wore breeches of lizard hide with a sturdy weapons belt about his hips. His fearsome energy spear was held to his back with a similar leather holster that buckled across his broad, bare chest. His body was adorned with tribal markings, burned into his skin and scales as a testament to his leadership.

Boroxle and his followers, three hundred in total, were known as the Rog Bandits. Although he thought of himself more as a revolutionary than a common bandit. His grandfather had fought in the old wars against the Ansheeta for control of the plentiful resources of the land and lost. He and his followers were the descendants of that war and lived on the borders of the wasteland and the forest controlled by the Ansheeta. It was a hard existence but the Rogashay were much tougher physically than the delicate Ansheeta and scratched out a living however they could. Raiding and invading Ansheetan towns and outposts was one such way.

As he sat surveying his followers, Boroxle’s mate Kriees, a very light, grayish blue skinned female with a strong fighter’s build approached him.

“You’ve been sitting up there for hours...what’s troubling you?” she commented.

Boroxle narrowed his yellowish green eyes out at the forest beyond, “Something is off.”

With nimble moves, Kriees jumped onto the sand dragon’s haunch and climbed onto its back next to her mate. She stared in the same direction.

“What is off to you?”

He shook his regal, crested head, “I don’t know. It’s just...quiet.”

Kriees sat after a moment next to him, “Were there no Ansheeta patrols again?”

“Still waiting for the scouts to send word.” He explained. A light of hope entered her green eyes which Boroxle took notice of, “But we don’t know if it was a fluke or deliberate.”

For untold cycles the Ansheeta had maintained control over the bountiful forests and lakes beyond, leaving the Rogashay the outskirts and the barren wasteland beyond. Many Rogashay, Boroxle among them, resented that arrangement and sought to change the status quo by overthrowing the Ansheeta and taking over the plentiful resources they controlled.

Boroxle had two goals in life. His outward goal, to his followers, was to oust the Ansheeta and take control of their prosperous territory. Inwardly, his goal was to have his own land and raise sand dragons with his mate and soon to be offspring. No one other than his mate knew of that goal and he vowed to keep it that way until his dream became reality. For years he and his followers had bided their time, waiting for a sign of weakness in their rivals.

It was then, Boroxle spotted one of his scouts running back on foot since sand dragons stuck out too much for stealthy reconnaissance.

“What’s your report scout?” he asked with earnest.

“There were no Ansheeta patrols again. That’s two days in a row.” The scout reported.

Boroxle thought a moment. That wasn’t typical at all. The Ansheeta sent out daily flying patrols across the forest. Their flight was the major advantage they held. If even one of their kind were spotted the Ansheeta would have forces down upon them in mere minutes. But this absence of patrols seemed odd, yet promising.

He turned to Kriees and she nodded with understanding, climbing down from the sand dragon’s back. Boroxle emitted a high-pitched keen which brought his five trusted riders to his side, “No Ansheeta patrols again today. We’ll investigate this. This could be an opening we’ve been waiting for. Mount up!”

Without hesitation his cohorts ran and mounted their sand dragons. Boroxle turned the chain bridle of his lizard so he could face Kriees.

He didn’t have to say anything, her proud look told all. Ride strong. Come back to me and I will fight by your side.

Then, under cover of darkness, Boroxle and his five riders headed off into the Ansheetan territory.

....

Morning far away in Anashee...

Anu had been so exhausted it hadn’t taken her long to fall asleep. Traynar had to place her in her bed she was so tired. But once morning broke Anu was donning a fresh EFP jumpsuit and she and Traynar flew out to meet the last surveillance squadron to formulate a plan to recover the chrysalis. The last squadron had come in a few hours before and the leader briefed them.

“The giant moved away from Anashee Lake sometime yesterday, passed Bent Peak, and our last squadron managed to relocate him near the Hitel Pond around dark,” the squadron leader informed them.

Traynar and Anu looked at each other, “That’s where he was first spotted. Why go back there?”

He shrugged, “He slept all night and come morning he sat up but...”

“But what?” Anu pressed.

“But he doesn’t look well. Shaky, didn’t stand strongly. Looked like he was staggering, half aware.”

“You think he’s sick?”

He nodded, “He’s heading back to Anashee Lake, we think he’s going for water. Our replacement squadron met up with us and began following him back there.”

“Did you see the chrysalis?” Traynar asked.

The squadron leader shook his head, “It was too dark last night, and we haven’t dared get close enough to see.”

“That’s two days and it is due for Emergence.” Traynar confirmed with raised plumage. “We have to get it back and returned to her family. Thank you for your report. Go get some rest.”

The squad leader nodded gratefully and left.

“If the giant is sick, we could stand a better chance of retrieving the chrysalis.” Traynar surmised, “Come on, let’s get going.”

With that the pair flew toward Anashee Lake with all haste.