Deaver couldn’t even begin to imagine how much power it took to create the ghostly blue glow that could be seen from were he was perched in his damp cave on Crespec to the distant moon of Helmac just now rising above the planets surface. Melmac was in the final stages of colonization. It’s mid section, spanning around the entire planet at the equator, had been bug out down to several hundred meters, and large structures replaced what used to be cratered rock. And in between these structures and even further down was that glowing blue brilliance.
Crespec would be next, Deaver feared. There was no stopping this race – his race – from taking what they wanted, regardless of who apposed them.
Just then a Speeder dropped down and sat gently on the lip of the cave, temporarily kicking up a plume of dust that rose and quickly fell in the slightly greater then standard gravity of Crespec. Deaver rose from his squating position and turned away from the distant cresent shape of Hemlac as it continued to inch it’s way up into the morning sky of Cespec to the speeder and the gentle hiss of the opening of the speeders door.
“Wet lips and wet roads, to you, Deaver,” came the voice of Adlen, referring to the dry conditions of Crespen and the horrible dust storms that would often result as speeders flew above the sandy surface of the planet. Licking his chapped lips, Deaver drew hard from the canteen slung over his shoulder.
“And the same to you, Adlen.” Deaver remarked as Alden struggled to wiggle his way out of the tight cockpit of the speeders.
Once his mid-section was free, Alden, with obvious discomfort draped a leg over the edge and then the other and dropped down to the dusty ground. “Ah, Deaver, these bones get older every year.”
“It’s the gravity, my friend. One half gravity has a tendency to make you feel not only heavier but older,” Deaver said as he walked over and help Adlen straighten himself from off the ground.
“Aye, thank you, thank you.” Alden remarked, now out of breath.
“It has been some time, Adlen. I take it this is no trip of an old friend coming to visit with another?”
Adlen shifted his gaze from his pants were he was wiping the dust from his clothes, to Deaver. “No,” he said simply as Deaver led him deeper into the cave were there was water and cooler air. “Our centuries in the west-“
“First we talk my friend.” Deaver cut him off as Adlen sat down at a waist high boulder that served as Deaver’s kitchen table. “Tell me about that beautiful wife of yours, Mary, and the other still left in the city.”
Adlen let out a low chuckle. “Mary is like me, old.”
“But still beautiful, I bet.” Deaver once again cut him off.
Adlen could only nod his head. “Yes, very beautiful, indeed.” He said in a low whisper as if speaking more to himself then to Deaver