The Boyorgs: Search for the Criterion Blade

The Boyorgs

Search for the Criterion Blade

Part I

1

Inhabitants of Garamond

An ancient warrior civilization called the Chanu, was led by a fearless leader named Montessori Windtalker. The Chanu were a civilization that relied on the human heart and the human spirit. Their fearless leader Montessori watched over his people with a brave heart. It was the year of the dando ( a native Garamondian bird ) for the Chanu. And it was the spirit of the dando who they most relied on in times of trouble.

The Bonti were the neighboring civilization of the Chanu. The Bonti provided trade for Montessori and his people. The Bonti were a trading society. Their leader Keenew was known for his skillful knowledge of economics and bartering. But Montessori had to be mindful around the old Bonti trader. He was known for his deceptive and imperious ways, traits that only a master salesman could possess. This angered the Chanu leader, causing minor feuds between the two societies from time to time.

***

Montessori launched into a polemic against Keenew’s arguments that Bonti trade was fair and just.

These prices are far too high! How dare you swindle the Chanu!

Montessori! I deride your insolent accusations! remarked Keenew.

The Chanu leader maintained his equanimity and questioned, Accusations?

Don’t act like a fool. You and your inquisitors have been snooping around our village for weeks now!

Enough! harked a female voice.

Daytooku? What are you doing here? asked Montessori.

The newcomer’s prepossessing appearance made it impossible for both Keenew and Montessori to continue their banter. Daytooku had an inclination to serve as the Boyorg’s grand arbiter. The wisdom and grace of the Chanu Queen alone had resolved many discrepancies between Montessori and Keenew in the past.

Daytooku continued, Need I remind you that Gordano’s assail will require the Boyorgs to remain vigilant and united.

Daytooku’s cogent reasoning quelled the Boyorgs’ heated debate. For they both knew Gordano represented evil and destruction incarnate. Gordano’s Criterion DNA gave him the ability to transmute into any living organism, including the Boyorgs.

Montessori gently grazed the side of his cheek, feeling the laceration scar he received from Gordano’s Criterion Blade .

My queen speaks the truth. The vicissitudes of our days are unpredictable. We must defend our people and preserve the Boyorgs way of life, replied Montessori.

In agreeing with Montessori, Keenew placed his brusque manners aside. For the Bonti leader could no longer exuberate his petulance. He could only display a deferential attitude towards his fellow Boyorg.

Gordano has defiled the sacredness of our people time and time again, began Montessori. May we rise and fight against his impetuous acts of violence. It was he, and only he, who stands culpable for the many deaths of our people during the Criterion wars. Including our previous leader and my father, the great Wutani!

The crowd of Chanu and Bonti both cheered.

Although Montessori believed in his people, he had a feeling of uncertainty in the bottom of his heart. A feeling that oscillated between fear and hope. For the only way to stop Gordano was to defeat him with his own Criterion Blade.

2

The Bounty Hunter

With its black marbled walls and its blue-stone floor, Gordano’s throne room had a dark aesthetic sense, exuberating deceit, evil, and greed. Gordano sat in his resplendent throne draped in diamonds. It was a convention that his servants take care of his each and every need. With his long dark cape, his falcon crested helm, and his impassive glare, Gordano appeared as the archetypal dictator seeking intergalactic domination. He wore gold colored armor and a head piece that wrapped around his eyes, giving him telescopic vision.

His son Trevor, however, with his boyish good looks and short, wavy blonde hair, stood by his side with a sanguine smile, despite the chaos and horror his father had created for the Boyorgs in the past.

In an ancient Criterion dialect only Gordano and his followers could understand, Trevor said, "Nak took too rak sha, rak do nook ta do shook Boyorgs," which translates as, even the weakest of our people can defeat the pathetic race they call the Boyorgs.

The female servants giggled at Trevor’s comment.

Silence! shouted Gordano. We have no time for your ribald humor, my son. When we defeat Montessori and his men, we shall rule the galaxy together!

Although embarrassed, Trevor acceded to his father’s plans, never once emoting any signs of discontent.

A moment later, in walked the legendary, yet, nefarious bounty hunter named Solimon, known for his crass and impertinent behavior.

Solimon, what are you doing here? asked Gordano.

Known for his pithy responses, Solimon replied, I’ve come to destroy the Boyorgs.

Fool! Do you think a brave bounty hunter alone can defeat Montessori and his people? rebuked Gordano.

I’ve come to help you, my Dark Lord.

Help me?

Gordano looked at his son with his brow raised.

He looked back at the bounty hunter and continued, "Placate my concerns Solimon. How can you… help me?

Gordano, I had no intentions of impinging on you like this. Especially on such short notice. But I believe I can fulfill my utilitarian purpose as I have in the past for you.

Don’t listen to him, Father. He’s a liar and a trader!

Silence, boy! I’ve had enough of your querulous behavior!

Gordano, I know how to defeat Montessori, continued the bounty hunter.

Solimon, your Trigarian traditions have their antecedents in our ancient Criterion ways. You have proven yourself to be a diligent bounty hunter on many occasions. However, something tells me that your statement is a ruse, replete with deceit.

Let’s just say I have the plans and location for Montessori’s secret weapon. And although his plans remain incomplete, I believe this to be the vital piece of information you will need to destroy the Boyorgs forever.

Intriguing, Solimon. Continue.

Montessori has a whole palette full of strong qualities that will help him defend his people. The culmination of his political control in the Solar Federation of Intergalactic Lifeforms and this new weapon will make him more powerful than ever before.

No one will ever be stronger than my father! shouted Trevor.

Old Montessori. I knew you were up to something. The Dark Lord placed his finger upon his chin and continued, First, we will design a calumny to ruin Montessori’s reputation within the federation. Then we will destroy their secret weapon.

Father, how do we know the bounty hunter’s not lying? The only evidence we have for the sole existence of this so-called secret weapon is merely speculative.

Solimon reached into his vest and pulled out a canister. He pressed a switch that opened a tiny window on the canister, revealing the blueprints for Montesorri’s weapon.

Intrigued, Gordano sat on the edge of his seat. Trevor too took a step forward.

If you want the plans, it will cost you one hundred thousand Criterion bits. Plus the twenty thousand you owe me for my part in the annihilation of the Kucow civilization.

You can’t be serious. I disavow any obligation to pay you anything, Solimon! hollered Gordano.

So be it, replied Solimon, holding the canister over the stream of lava that flowed through Gordano’s throne room.

Wait!

Gordano sat back in his chair.

I’ll give you eighty and not a zorbit more!

Solimon agreed. And although Solimon was receiving less than what he asked for, he kept his rapport with the evil emperor and rolled the canister towards Gordano’s throne. Gordano stopped the canister with his foot. The Criterion Emperor picked up the canister and removed the plans. Gordano held the blue prints up to the light. Trevor remained silent as he could no longer decry the bounty hunter’s words.

But Father, if we attack now, the federation will surely respond, added Trevor.

Not unless we make it seem like an intergalactic anomaly, responded the evil emperor.

3

The Secret Weapon

Montessori’s secret defense weapon had an impeccable design, capable of repulsing any foreign assail that came its way. Its worth was a pittance short of priceless due to its invaluable nature. Its name was the Borgata and it was a spacecraft the size of three Beta Fields.

Father, why do you appear so dour? asked Montessori’s only daughter named Cadence.

Cadence was not only beautiful, but highly intelligent as she could regurgitate every known fact about the Borgata. Montessori was proud of his daughter, but remained ambivalent about her decision to join the Boyorg Battle Fleet. Especially with Gordano’s avarice for galactic domination.

Look, Father! stated Cadence, glancing to her right. It’s Keenew! It was surely a wise decision to join forces with the Bonti.

Don’t get caught up in your credulity, Cadence, replied Montessori as he recently vowed to practice greater prudence with his daughter.

The surrounding Chanu officers took a brief respite in their battle fleet duties to watch Keenew and his men pull up next to the Borgata in their Bonti speeder-bikes. And although the Bonti came to help Montessori and his men, the Chanu leader always carried a feeling of intense duress whenever he and Keenew both met. But Montessori had to keep his composure and work with the other Boyorg clan as the reprobate Criterion Emperor could attack at any moment. Cadence could sense the dissonance residing in her father’s mind, however, could not feel fully empathetic with her father’s attitude towards the Bonti.

Behind Keenew and his men landed another large spacecraft, which was meticulously engineered to transport the entire Bonti fleet quickly and efficiently throughout the galaxy. Keenew dismounted off his speeder bike, trying to appear as innocuous as possible.

Montessori! How wonderful it is to see you again on this most paramount of occasions! hollered the Bonti leader joyously.

Keenew was overjoyed as it was the first time he stepped foot onto the heavily inviolable fields where they kept the Borgata. The giddy Bonti leader curiously approached Montessori, astonished and amazed with the Chanu leader’s spacecraft.

Well, well, well, my old Chanu friend. You certainly have outdone yourself this time, continued Keenew as he now stood face to face with the Chanu leader.

Despite the obvious enmity that stood between the two, Montessori, in a dour tone, replied, Welcome to Granger fields, my fellow Boyorgs.

A moment of awkward silence ensued between the two leaders. Keenew, however, graciously bowed before the Chanu leader, which completely shocked Montessori and the other Chanu that stood nearby. Whenever the two had met in the past, Keenew usually beseeched Montessori to buy his overpriced goods.

Abruptly, in the distance, the Boyorgs heard the flocking of their land’s national bird known as the Dando. Both the Chanu and the Bonti turned their heads and watched the Dando soar together in awe, which served as a presage. An omen Montessori had been searching for; for quite some time now.

And for a brief moment, Montessori thought, perhaps the infusion of the Bonti and Chanu cultures could exist. Maybe peace is in our future after all.

Despite Montessori’s new surge of hope for his people, the Chanu leader still bore a stern scowl upon his face.

Did somebody just pass? It seems as if we just caught the last part of a somber dirge! stated Keenew.

Whatever do you mean? replied Montessori.

This is a joyous occasion, my old friend. I believe the unification of our peoples deserves a celebration!

And although Montessori began to feel a little less concerned with his old Bonti neighbor, he inexorably stood there, refusing to show any emotion.

The doors of the Bonti spacecraft slowly opened. A large connecting ramp suddenly appeared out of thin air and extended itself towards the ground. Out of the ship came an ornately dressed woman. It was Queen Amadayo, Keenew’s wife and Bonti delegate in the Solar Federation of Intergalactic Lifeforms. She elegantly walked down the hologram-like ramp with the entire battle fleet close behind. She was dressed in a white and gray colored uniform. Attached was a dark blue cloak that hung to the back of her thighs. Her hair was colored white, which had a noticeable black stripe that trailed from the side of her head all the way down to her shoulders.

As Queen Amadayo made it to the ground level, the nearby Chanu cadets dispersed, making room for the queen to reach their leader. Yet, while Montessori patiently waited for the Bonti Queen to approach them, he couldn’t help but to think of the time he last saw her. He remembered watching her suffer terrible anguish as her son, Dante, was killed in the Boyorg-Trigarian wars approximately nine years ago.

Despite the scowl Queen Amadayo bore on her face, Montessori could tell that the Bonti Queen appeared rather impressed with the Borgata.

Greetings, Montessori, replied the Bonti Queen.

Greetings, Queen Amadayo.

With increasing curiosity, the Bonti Queen continued to admire the secret weapon, nonchalantly ignoring the others.

Suddenly, the queen lowered her brows and replied, No, no, no.

My queen, is there something wrong? asked Keenew.

The queen continued to step away from the crowd. She then stopped abruptly and quickly turned around.

I just thought…

Yes, my queen? questioned Keenew, now starting to feel a little concerned and a bit embarrassed in front of the silent Chanu leader.

I just thought there would be more of a convivial atmosphere. We came all this way from Bontama to reunite with the Chanu and there isn’t a single piece of food or form of entertainment in sight, continued Queen Amadayo.

Keenew looked at Montessori thinking the same thing.

Queen Amadayo spun back around and continued to admire the Borgata.

However, I must say Montessori, your innate talent for ship design is certainly as astonishing as they say. She quickly glanced at her husband and continued, Not even the most astute engineers could design this masterpiece you have created.

And she was right. As the sun set behind the orange and purple horizon, the luminous lights grazed over the shoulders of everyone standing near the Borgata. Montessori, however, continued to stare at his Bonti friends in a dour manner.

Keenew's effrontery was no longer an issue, thus, Montessori quietly forestalled reproving his Bonti guests and said, If it's a celebration you desire, then it's a celebration you shall receive.

Enamored by Montessori’s response, Keenew and his queen smiled with joy.

Oh how wonderful! It certainly has been a while since we joined forces for the betterment of the Boyorg race. The last time was when we helped the indigent people of Dekra. Yes, our charity work together was most productive, replied Queen Amadayo.

Indeed, my queen! replied Keenew.

With the culmination of smiles from both the Chanu and Bonti leaders alike, a new sense of peace and calmness surrounded the field. Montessori gently touched his temple and lightly pressed down on a small subdermal microchip, which immediately activated a telecommunication screen, appearing out of thin air.

Montessori, is everything, alright? asked Daytooku, who appeared on the turquoise holographic screen that floated before him.

Yes, Daytooku. Everything’s-.

Montessori looked at his visitors with one brow raised.

Everything’s fine. In fact, our visitors wish to embark on some kind of celebratory activity.

You mean like, a party? asked Daytooku with a hint of sarcasm behind her tone.

Yes, if you’d like to call it that, responded Montessori feeling a bit embarrassed.

Are you sure? In the past, you’ve always been quite the iconoclast when it comes to social festivities, my dear.

Montessori quickly turned around and replied, Yes, dear. I’m sure.

Keenew and Queen Amadayo looked at each other and smiled.

At last our people will celebrate a true union! And while we’re at it, I’d like to emend some of the revisions you’ve made earlier on Bonti trade.

Let’s not get carried away, Daytooku! muttered Montessori under his breath.

Is everything OK, Montessori? asked the Bonti leader with his finger in the air.

From this angle, Daytooku could now see Keenew and his queen standing behind Montessori and said, Dear, is that Queen Amadayo?

Yes, 'tis I, Daytooku, how are you? greeted Queen Amadayo as she stepped towards the turquoise holographic screen before Montessori.

I’m well, thank you. It’s such a pleasure to have you here on this side of Garamond.

Yes, absolutely! replied the Bonti Queen.

How was your trip?

As comfortable as always. The Bon-22A5 is still our favorite way to travel. But I must say, your husband’s work on this new shuttle is most impressive.

Yes, we are all very proud of our Chanu leader. His design will certainly protect us from Gordano’s flagrant abuse of intergalactic power.

A moment of awkward silence ensued.

Ladies, I don’t mean to interrupt, but it’s best if we begin planning for this celebration sooner than later, goaded Montessori.

Very well, replied Daytooku. But before the Chanu Queen left, she continued to stare at Montessori’s face and noticed a contusion showing above his right eye.

It was small, but clearly noticeable.

Montessori, what happened to your eye? asked Daytooku.

The Bonti leader and his queen felt a sudden sense of awkwardness and turned away.

Oh, this? asked Montesorri, pointing to his face. Oh, I must have bumped it earlier while I was working, continued the Chanu leader in an equivocal manner.

Typical Montessori. A true inveterate spacecraft engineer, replied Keenew. You should learn to relax and enjoy yourself every once and a while, old friend!

The Boyorgs come first, Keenew. It is incumbent upon my role as Chanu leader to protect and serve my people. Especially when they need it most.

Thinking about the horrific acts of violence Gordano could perform, Montessori quickly found himself in a temporary morass.

Yet, to quickly pull her husband out of his daze, she asked, Montessori, is the Borgata’s captain engineer with you?

The Chanu leader, however, remained in his thoughts.

The two Bonti leaders looked at each other with their eyebrows raised. And although Daytooku remained silent, It was implicit that Daytooku was referring to their daughter.

I’m right here, Mother, replied Cadence as she stepped closer behind her father’s shoulder.

Cadence, remain with your father and keep an eye open for any frivolous behavior while we have our guests. I’ll stay here in Chanquot City and make a requisition of supplies for tomorrow night’s celebration.

Daytooku often attributed the Borgata’s minor imperfections to her daughter’s sophomoric classmates who now work with her on the vessel.

Very well, my queen. I shall see you later tonight. For now I will escort our venerable guests to their sleeping quarters in Chanquot.

Excellent, Montessori. I shall see the rest of you tomorrow night, replied Daytooku.

Until tomorrow! added Queen Amadayo excitedly as her penchant for Chanu cuisine and culture was undoubtedly high.

Daytooku nodded her head and disappeared from the holographic screen. Montessori gently touched his temple, which quickly deactivated the holographic screen projected from his forehead. When Montessori turned around, he noticed the excited smiles on his Bonti guests and suddenly felt compunction for the harsh way he’d treated them in the past.

C’mon my friends, allow me to escort you to your sleeping arrangements, instructed Montessori.

He opened a compartment on his forearm and computed a code into his very own, built-in, digital keypad.

I’ll be back to pick you up later Cadence. Keep a close watch on the others as your mother had said.

Yes, Father, answered Cadence respectfully.

Three star seconds later, a gray, square shaped transport shuttle hovered next to Montessori and the Bonti leaders. When the vessel came to a halt, an automatic door opened and a transparent glass staircase projected itself onto the ground. Queen Amadayo hurriedly stepped onto the transparent platform and sinuously pointed her finger back at her husband. The Bonti leader’s eyes blossomed with excitement and quickly followed his queen on board. And although the two treated the moment as if they were on some kind of intergalactic holiday, Montessori, however, knew they had to be wary, as a true leader could hardly ever extricate oneself away from his or her demanding duties.

Ladies and gentlemen, strap yourselves in tightly, for this is a non circuitous shuttle tram to the guest wing of the Chanquot Palace or a little place that I like to call home! stated Montessori with pride and vigor.

And away the three departed, guarded by over a dozen of Montessori’s top rated officers. The shuttle surreptitiously cloaked itself, appearing invisible to the naked eye; because with enemies like Gordano lurking around, the Chanu had to be on guard at all times.

4

Mel’s Galactic Bar and Oasis

Marcelis coveted his older cousin’s cool manner and refined charm around other Dothian women. His cousin’s name was Jeremiah, and he was an excellent proton beam sharp shooter. Quite possibly, the best in the galaxy. Yet, his mundane routines were anything but ordinary. And he was mentally tough as well. No one could outsmart him or torment him with scorn as he was impervious to all those who disapproved of his rebellious lifestyle.

Jeremiah was somewhat of a celebrity here on Doth. The Dothian battle fleet relegated the young captain for his courageous acts of chivalry in the Dothian-Draconian wars. Mostly for waning down more than half of the Draconian fleet single-handedly with his B25 charged proton pistols. But as time had passed on, the chief’s poor habits of drinking Dothian ale and overeating Dothian cuisine slowly caught up with him. His corpulence, however, did not make him any less attractive to the many Dothian females who dreamed of being the next Jeremiah Pryde one day.

Barkeeper! Bring me and these fine ladies two more shots of that lovely Dothian whiskey you got there! called Jeremiah at the end of the bar.

The bartender grabbed a bottle of Dothian whiskey and unenthusiastically poured three shot glasses halfway to the top.

C’mon you old sailor. Don’t be so stingy. Fill em’ up! hollered Jeremiah.

I’m cutting you off after this one chief.

But the night’s just gettin’ started! Ain’t that right ladies?

Listen chief, I don’t care if you’re some deft proton beam shooter! interjected the agitated bartender. I ain’t lettin’ ya trash the place like ya did last time! Got it?

Hey, it ain’t my fault those Parflatian meatheads can’t take a joke!

Silently and angrily, the bartender walked away.

I wonder what his problem is? slurred Jeremiah .

The two Dothian females who clung onto Jeremiah’s right and left shoulder giggled in his ear.

Jeremiah looked to his side and noticed his cousin, Marcelis, drinking by himself. Marcelis Windtalker was Montessori’s only son. After his time at the Boyorg Battle Fleet Academy, Marcelis was stationed in Doth to help escort a high ranking Boyorg Diplomat. And it was here at Mel’s bar where he reunited with his older cousin, Jeremiah.

Excuse me ladies, I’ll be right back. Don’t you go nowhere, said Jeremiah as he stumbled off his bar stool.

The captain lieutenant walked to his cousin and wrapped his arm around Marcelis’ shoulders.

Hey little cous, why such the sad face?

Marcelis, however, remained static in his seat.

C’mon, cheer up cous. It can’t be that bad. You know you can always defer to me when you’re feelin’ blue. I’m after all, the expert when it comes to havin’ a good time. replied Jeremiah with his eyes closed and his head tilted back with confidence.

That’s just it, Jeremiah, rebuked Marcelis. All you ever want to do is have a good time! When are we going to serve our purpose as intergalactic officers? Why don’t we ever fight in battle or partake in top secret missions. All we ever do is drink Dothian ale and come to this lame dive bar!

Lame? questioned Jeremiah with his brow raised. Lame is an illicit word in my vocabulary, little cous. Nothing is lame to me. I find everyone and everything extremely interesting.

Marcelis, however, did not reply to his cousin’s witty remark.

Seeing that his cousin was not acting like his eager self, Jeremiah truncated his life is not all about winning wars speech and said, You still have a lot to learn, Marcelis.

The young cadet’s cold-shoulder routine continued. Jeremiah looked at his cousin’s clothes and noticed they were hanging more loosely over his emaciated figure than usual.

Hey barkeep! Can we get this young man an order of those famous Dothian wings over here!

Unwillingly, the bartender threw his cloth towel over his shoulder and limped his way back into the kitchen.

Jeremiah remained sedentary with his cousin and waited for the bartender to return. He then reached over the bar and grabbed a bottle of Dothian ale.

Jeremiah deftly unscrewed the cap and clinked his bottle against Marcelis’ glass and said, Cheers, little cous. To a life filled with excitement and adventure!

Marcelis finally gave in and lifted his glass, to which he then looked at his older cousin and smiled. Jeremiah refrained from giving Marcelis any other discursive lessons on life and looked up at the holographic monitor showing the live Galaxy Ball game. The teams playing were the Criterion Storm versus the Garamond Knights.

I can’t believe the league still lets those Criterion crooks play! hollered an old bearded man at the end of the bar sitting next to a fish-faced Dothonian.