Chapter One 2nd Draft

Getting there...

“I’m Alibi Jones! You can’t do this to me!”

“THIS is what the Tek’Tah do with TRESPASSERS!”

The six-limbed, reptilian alien uses four of its tentacles to lift and toss the thin, twenty five year old dark haired man into a dimly lit stone-walled cell. The Tek’Tah guard swings the heavy wooden cell door shut with its other two tentacles.

CLANG!

Alibi Jones is in trouble. After his last mediation assignment, he followed a group of aliens, reptilian Tek’Tah, suspected of kidnapping humans. He stowed away on a Tek’Tah merchant ship, traveled with them out to this desolate outpost of Tek'Ti'Karn. Unfortunately, the Tek’Tah that Alibi was following discovered him stowing away, beat him, and then turned him over to the Tek’Tah authorities on Tek'Ti'Karn. The Tek'Tah authorities are responsible for his current accommodations. Alibi throws himself at the cell door, shouting.

“Don’t you know who I am! I told you, I’m Alibi Jones! My mother is the former President of the Solar Alliance!”

“You humans! Always think you’re so SPECIAL!” the Tek’Tah hisses back at him through the cell door. Alibi wants to throw himself at the door again but holds himself back.

No real point in that, he thinks.

He looks around the cell. Four stone walls, no windows, one door. He's not alone. A ball of fur lays in one corner, a human man is passed out in another.

“Dinnertime, cat man!” the Tek’Tah calls in through the closed cell door.

“At least I don’t smell like a dead fish!” Alibi shouts back, taunting the alien.

“No. You smell instead like sweaty, stinky meat,” a deep, purring, yet dangerous sounding voice rumbles out. The pile of dappled brown and rusty gold fur unfolds into an upright feline shape as it emerges from its dark corner of the cell. Sharp, pointy teeth in the catlike face of the speaker catch the light as it approaches Alibi. Alibi involuntarily draws back from his cell mate. He can sense fear and danger coming from the alien.

A Dakhur?

Alibi draws himself up to face down the bipedal, lion-like being he’s locked in the small room with. He stands nearly tiptoe, straining for more than his six feet as he stares down at the five-foot-eight man-cat. The alien stares back up at Alibi.

“I’m Alibi Jones!” he says, introducing himself.

“You know… I heard you say that before. Just then,” the cat-man snaps back. The alien begins hissing, lets out a brief series of hisses. Alibi works out what the hissing sounds are.

“Wait… are you laughing at me?” Alibi asks defensively.

“Yes. I was laughing at what the Tek’Tah said. You humans really do think you are very special,” the cat-man tells him.

“What do you know about humans? What are you, anyway? Dakhur?”

The alien’s greenish-yellow eyes widen.

“I am Dakhur. You are observant. For a human,” the cat man purrs his approval.

“I haven’t run into that many Dakhur,” Alibi admits.

“Yet you knew what I was. How?”

“I worked a trade deal with the Dakhur, last year. With the Flaze.” The alien c***s its head, seems puzzled. “I’m a commercial mediator,” Alibi explains. “I help facilitate negotiations.”

“Ah. Oh,” the catlike alien exclaims. “You are THAT Alibi!”

“See?” Alibi smiles. “My reputation precedes me! Maybe I really AM special,” he says with some attitude, some sarcasm in his voice.

“Yes, yesssss, I do know of you.” The alien’s countenance noticeably darkens. “I think… I think I may have to kill you.”

        Oh S**t!

“Kill me? Why?”

“The Flaze were very shrewd in the negotiations you mediated with the Dakhur. We gave up more than we anticipated. My father was one of the negotiators. He became dishonored. We lost our family honor. He left us for the Wandering. My entire family was disgraced. For destroying his honor, I should kill you!”

“Wait! It’s not my fault! I was just the mediator!” Alibi protests.

“Right.” The Dakhur does not sound convinced.

“I made sure that was a good deal!” Alibi insists.

“A ‘good deal’ for the Flaze, yes. You are not convincing me that I should not kill you,” the cat-man purrs. “The added stipulations the Flaze attached…”

“They shouldn’t have added anything…” Alibi protests, trying to figure out what went wrong with his negotiations.

“They claimed it was a condition. One that you negotiated,” the Dakhur says.

“No. Nah… they lied to you!” Alibi insists.

“They ‘lied’ you say? How interesting. So, then… maybe I do not kill you… yet,” the alien says, as its tension relaxes.

“Alright! Hey!” Alibi says.

“Hey?”

“What’s your name? You already know mine.”

“Kitrafgrundlerrrrralllkazzzh.”

“God bless you,” Alibi says, as if he sneezed.

“What?”

“It’s a joke, I was joking. Your name sounded like a sneeze. What was it again?”

“Kitrafgrundlerrrrralllkazzzh.”

“Right… can I call you ‘Kit’?”

“Sure.”

“Excellent! Hello Kit, I’m Alibi.”

“You keep saying that.”

The man on the floor groans.

“THAT,” Kit tells Alibi, “is Piccolo. He stinks like sweaty meat and urine. He pissed himself at some point earlier. He was still drunk, last I checked.”

“Huh,” the drunk on the floor says as he turns over to look up at Alibi through one squinting eye. “Who’ryou?”

“Who are you?” Alibi asks, answering the drunk’s question with a question.

“Piccolo!” he spits out. Then he burps.

Alibi wrinkles his nose.

“Unh… I can smell that! How much have you been drinking?”

“Not Mush,” he slurs.

“No?” Alibi asks.

“Mafailure. Me. Imafailure,” the man mumbles. “Lost her. Lost her…” the drunk trails off. He rolls back over, curling up facing away from Alibi.

“Cheery guy,” Alibi says.

“He has lost his sister,” Kit tells him.

“Aw, man,” Alibi says, suddenly feeling bad over hating the guy. “How’d she die?”

“She did not die,” Kit clarifies. “She was taken. Piccolo says she was abducted by some Tek’Tah. He’s been following them, but lost their trail here at Tek'Ti'Karn. He got drunk and tried to start a fight with some Tek’Tah last night. They subdued him and brought him here.”

“This is still from last night? Impressive.”

“Disgusting,” Kit disagrees.

“So, he thinks his sister was kidnapped by the Tek’Tah?” Alibi asks.

“Do you not hear so well? Yes. This is what I said.”

“Huh. Funny,” Alibi says almost to himself.

“Did you say ‘funny’?” Kit asks.

“Yeah. I’m here because I’ve been following the trail of a friend of mine who disappeared. And the Tek’Tah are my prime suspects, too.”

“If they are your suspects, why are you in their jail?”

“The Tek’Tah don’t like being followed,” Alibi muses aloud. “They’re charging me with trespassing. I was following a trail, looking for my friend. She was kidnapped. At least I think she was. She disappeared from her home on Remillar. The Tek’Tah were implicated, so I followed them here. When they found me tailing them, they grabbed me. Beat me. And now I’m in here.”

“Ah,” something occurs to the cat-man. “You were not following them in an official capacity, then?”

“An official capacity?” Alibi asks him, confused. “Oh, you mean like SAIF?”

“Safe? Oh, you mean the Solar Alliance Interplanetary Force, yes,” Kit realizes. “You do not work for them?” he asks.

“Oh no!” Alibi clarifies. “I’m no Alliance Officer! Far from it!”

“You worked with them for the negotiations,” Kit says a little darkly.

“I’m in the mediation corps!” Alibi insists. “We work with SAIF but we’re separate. Different!”

“Too bad,” Kit says, calming down. “I’d imagine SAIF wouldn’t let one of their own get eaten alive in a Tek’Tah cell. Will anyone be coming for you?”

“Eaten? Alive?” Alibi asks. He backs away from the lion-like alien and its sharp teeth.

Kit hisses a quick burst of hisses, laughing at Alibi’s reaction.

“You eat people?” Alibi asks him.

“Me? Personally, no. But some Dakhur have eaten human beings, when starved and provoked into it. It is probably why you have been thrown in here with me.” Kit leans toward Alibi, baring his fangs and licking his lips. “I am rather hungry.”

“Grrreat…” Alibi inches further away from the feline, almost falls over the feet of the drunk on the floor.

“Ha!” Kit lets out an almost human laugh. “I do not plan on eating you. I have not eaten him yet,” he nods at the drunk. “Have I?”

“Maybe you don’t like pickled meat?” Alibi offers.

Kits hisses out more laughs.

“Maybe I don’t! Nor pissy meat, either,” the cat-man concedes. He looks Alibi directly in the eye. “You do not whet my appetites in any way, shape or form, either. Have no fear. I will not aide the Tek’Tah in their prisoner disposal.”

Alibi relaxes.

“Eeeat meeeee,” the drunk says out loud, to no one in particular. Alibi and Kit laugh together.

“So,” Kit says to Alibi, “you never answered me. Will anyone be missing you? Coming after you here?”

“The Tek’Tah got my Wand. My Wanderer, my com device,” Alibi says, explaining when Kit looks confused. “I can’t get in touch with anyone. They’ll miss me, but they don’t know where I am. Why?”

“I do not know about you,” the cat-man says, “but I would like to get out of here!”

“Why are you in here?” Alibi asks Kit.

“A story for another time,” Kit demurs. Alibi decides not to press it.

“Fine. Speaking of stories… won’t we get to plead our cases?”

Kit hisses a laugh. “Plead your case? They threw you in here as food! You think the Tek’Tah want to hear from Dakhur food? Do you think they care what food has to say?”

“But… but… I’m Alibi Jones!”

“You’re fooooooooood,” the drunk says, his back to Alibi. “Get used to it!”

“Do you suppose that’s what happened to your sister, then?” Alibi asks the back of the drunk man.

In a blur of motion, the drunk leaps up off the floor, whirls to face Alibi and charges at him, hand outstretched and grabbing for Alibi’s throat!

“You don’t talk about my sister!” the drunk screams at Alibi as he pins him to the wall, both hands around his throat. Alibi struggles. He chops in at the drunk’s head with both hands. The man pulls one of his hands from Alibi’s throat to swat at his chopping arms, giving Alibi a fighting chance.

“okay!” Alibi tries to get out past the strangulation. “sorry!” he manages to strain out.

The drunk goes slack. His hand drops from Alibi’s throat. He backs away from Alibi.

“Sorry, man,” he mumbles. “I lost her. She can’t be dead. I suck.” He falls back down to the floor in a sulking pile, head down.

Alibi shakes off the attack.

“Yeah, I need to get out of here,” Alibi admits to Kit. “Got a plan?”

“I have been thinking of one. Next time they open the door, we jump the guard. You go high, I go low,” Kit suggests. He looks away, perhaps embarrassed. “It is all I have come up with.”

“Good plan,” Alibi says, his voice heavy with sarcasm. Kit looks back at him.

Nearly a minute goes by in silence.

“What?” Alibi finally gives in.

“I am waiting for your plan,” Kit tells him.

“Give me a second.”

Another minute goes quietly by.

“Tell you what,” Alibi says finally. “Next time the guard opens the door? We jump him. You go low, I go high.”

“Oh,” Kit says, “Much better plan than mine.”

“I’ve got another idea. Another part of the plan,” Alibi adds. “They think you’re going to eat me, right?”