I was born on a dry planet with 2 moons. For generations we have lived in wooden huts to protect us from the sun’s heat during the summer months. We survive off of farming and raising small goat like creatures. We must, however take shifts protecting our flocks, as the other clans will come and steal them from us if left undefended. Early in the spring there is always fighting, after the crops have been planted but before the harvest. I am used to the fighting, my father is the village healer.

In the hills there are some mysterious caves that tell of a story of “Sky-People” coming and taking male children; often times prying them from the mother’s arms as they wailed and beat (futily) against them. That is the story that is passed down in our family. My great-great-great grandpa’s brother was taken by the sky-people. Our arrows and strongest swords were no match against their size and “metal skin.” I heard they went to other villages and clans as well, taking other boys along with my ancestor.

So it was not completely a surprise when one evening, late in the harvest, that we heard a massive thunder but without any clouds. We tried to fight but we they were to powerful. The last thing I remember, before waking up on a ship, was sneaking up behind one with my hoe. I swung it as hard as I could against it’s back. My handled shattered. I remember the sky-creature turning around and then I woke up and I was no longer in my village.

The pain was excruciating. I took my anger out on the battle fields that we plunged into. My familiarity with blood and so called “ancient” medicinal techniques saved many a life on the battle fields all over the galaxy. But as my skills grew, so did the pain of the operations I had to endure. But it made me stronger than I had ever thought possible…


And They Shall Know No Fear... Flatlander Flatlander