Ibn Sharjar: The Tej-Ka-Jalfa repay in full
Posted on 10 Oct 2022 @ 1:36am by Atif ibn Sharjar - Merchant of the Al Ashar
Edited on on 15 Jun 2023 @ 6:08pm
Mission:
Ongoing Mission - Planet Obsidian
Location: Kalara Spaceport
Timeline: M3 D06 0200Hrs
1999 words - 4 OF Standard Post Measure
Ibn Sharjar had his blanket spread out under the starboard wing stub, sitting cross-legged upon it he puffed contentedly on his hookah, feeling refreshed and awake despite the hour. He had returned from the Souk by two in the afternoon, the taxi ride back had been quick, the midday heat having driven nearly everyone inside to seek shelter from the sun.
He had spent an hour working out a route to the coordinates he had been given. The destination lay far to the north west, on the northern polar edge of the Lethini Deadlands. The shortest, most direct, route was to fly north east, but there were some dense ionic-magnetic radiation disturbances clustered over the Taragi-Shar Mountains, they had been there for a few days now and would make navigation through there hazardous. The other route would be to go straight up into orbit, skirt the disturbances and descend over the destination, but he tended to avoid orbital flights whenever possible. It would bring him to the attention of Obsidian Command's Traffic Control and he did not need Starfleet in his business. Particularly as he had heard the station was on some kind of increased alert level, with fighter patrols roaming around.
The result would be a longer, but safer and more descrete, route westward, first across the Sea of Glass, then through the two Rupathan Mountain ranges. He would stay closer to the equator until he had cleared the first range to stay off the grid of the Federation Marine base they were building in the northern foothills. Then it would be a run north west, across the expanse of the Lethini Deadlands, a region he had never visited before.
The route finalised, he had gone to bed, it would be a long night and long flight, all in the journey would last around sixteen hours. Rising a little after Midnight, he had eaten, then come outside to enjoy the cool night and await his passengers.
Letting a trail of smoke escape his lips, he stretched and wriggled his toes in his socks, a pair of new Qatarak skin desert boots were nearby. He had stopped by the shoemaker's stall in the Souk and they had indeed brought out several styles in his size. He had settled on a knee-high pair, in a sandy-gray color mottled with the natural ridges and swirls of Qatarek Sand-Ray skin patterns.
There were several species of Qatarek, they were best described as Sand-Fish A creature that swam though the sand as though it were water. Some were broad and flat, like a Ray or Skate and came equipped with a poisoned tail barb. Others were almost Shark-like, with wide mouths and rows of teeth. They were predatory, carnivorous and dangerous; the smaller ones hunted in shoals, the larger ones alone or in small packs. They mostly went after game animals, but the bigger ones were capable of taking an adult Eralsu, so unwary people were easy prey. None of the species had eyes, they moved and hunted through a range of sensory organs along their bodies which sensed vibrations in the sand. Some of the Ray-like ones were ambush-killers, laying in wait just below the surface for anything that happened by.
Particularly dangerous were areas of Fog-Sand, Obsidian's version of quick-sand. Hard to spot, deep pools of ultra-fine, almost dust-like, sand that would not support the weight of a man. Qatarek were common in such places and creatures who stumbled in seldom survived, if the Qatarek did not kill them, they choked on the dust. Fog-Sand was dangerous for ships too, Atif had heard of pilots landing on what they thought was hard packed sand, only to find their ship quickly sinking. The fine dust clogged intakes and engines, making take off nearly impossible if you were not quick enough to react.
Qatarek developed a tough skin, rough like sand-paper, which gave them grip and traction in the sand. The soles of the boots were made of laminated layers of belly skin, which was even tougher than the rest of the durable hide. There were three buckles above and below the ankles, so they could be tightened in place after being slipped on and a drawstring around the top, this could be pulled tight when walking in deep sand. The boots were well made and surprisingly comfortable, with an lining of Chuchaki wool that provided cushioning and insulation from the hot sand.
It was cooler now, at nearly Two O'clock in the morning, his shemagh was off his head and draped over his shoulder. A soft night breeze blew across the open space, little dust devils whirled in the warm orange glow of the floodlights illuminating the rows of landing pads. Down at the far end of the runway, near the city owned warehouses, came the soft buzz of activity. Several large commercial trading ships were landed there, being unloaded by gangs of workers. The majority of cargo handling took place over night, out of the dangerous heat and radiation of the day. On the far side of the port was the brightly lit Starfleet hanger, the flag of the Federation painted on its front wall, a couple of their Runabout class vessels were parked outside it. He had purposely chosen a spot as far from there as was available.
A couple of nearer pads were occupied now, small independent trading vessels like his own; a vehicle was pulled up to one and the crew were loading their ship. Movement caught his eye in the distance and as he watched a small train of three Chuchaki carts wound their way along the perimeter road, they passed the other independent ships and continued towards his own pad. Since he was the last ship in the line, they must be those he expected, they would be here in five minutes.
He took a last puff from his hookah and set it down, clambering to his feet he slipped on his new boots, buckling them up. He extinguished the hookah, tidied it up and put it away in it's box, lifted and folded his blanket, stowing both inside the open forward hold hatch. He retrieved his shemagh from his shoulder, rolled it and settled his comfortably around his neck over his robe, then walked back to the stern of the Al Ashar to wait.
The carts plodded their way along the roadway and turned towards his ship. There were figures moving with them, by the look of it a male driver for each cart, a couple more men walked alongside the first cart and on the last one was a family group, a woman and two children.
The two figures by the first cart sped up and came out into the oranage spotlight. One older, the other younger, the elder was Tej-Gabrul.
"Tej-Gabrul , I see you" Atif said and walked over to meet the pair.
"Atif Ibn Sharjar, I see you" The man replied, "This is my first son, Tej-Jilek" introducing the man with him. As Atif closed he recognized the family resemblance; like his father, the son was tall, lean and hawkish. He also had the same scaring to his left cheek, three stylized star shapes and a wavy line that thread its way between them. Both were dressed similarly, loose robes over their clothing, the robes were of the same tan color, but had a broad black leather strip around the tail, cuffs and hood; to the left of the hood hung leather face masks. Unlike his father who had loose Kalaran style pants, the son also wore thick leather beeches, desert boots and a curved sword hung from his broad belt, into which were also stuffed a pair of leather gauntlets.
"Tej-Jilek, I see you" Atif replied and offered his hand and forearm to the man.
He had a strong return grip and gave a friendly nod. "Atif Ibn Sharjar, I see you. You are known to my father, there is peace between us"
Atif nodded back and led the pair back to his ship. The carts arrived and drew alongside, the drivers began to unload them. Atif noticed all were of the same tribe, wearing similar robes and with facial scaring, though each had a slightly different pattern of stars and lines.
The cargo consisted of crates and wrapped bundles, Atif clambered into the hold and showed them where to stow the items; then once they were done, he covered the pile with a cargo net and ensured everything was securely strapped down. Getting out he, closed and secured the hatch.
The woman and children had joined the two men now. "This is my wife, Tej-Kniva" Jilek introduced the woman, she was tall, slender, with large dark eyes, which was all he could see of her face, the lower half covered with a modesty veil, a clothe threaded with black glass beads that glittered brightly in the floodlights. She also wore the leather trimmed robe, breeches and desert boots, though over these a leather tabard hung down to her knees. Like her husband she carried a weapon, a smaller sword at her belt. She was also pregnant, perhaps five or six months gone.
The two children were boys, the taller perhaps one perhaps nine or ten; the younger maybe five or six. They were dressed similarly to their parents, only the older one had a scar, a single star shape on his cheek, both carried small daggers on their belts.
The older was called Gabrul, like his grandfather; the younger was Sasil. Gabrul the younger came forward shook Atif's forearm formally, Sasil hung by his mother's legs and looked shyly up at the Offworlder. He whispered something to her, she laughed softly and said "My son wants to know why you stick Siniki Boar fur to your face"
Atif grinned at the lad and twirled his bushy mustache, then held his index fingers along each side of his mouth. "I stole it while he was sleeping, next time I will get his tusks!"
The boy opened his mouth in shock and looked wide eyed at his brother. His mother reached down and closed his mouth for him.
The carts moved back to the road way, Tej-Gabrul embraced his son, daughter in law and grandsons. Then Atif led them up through the main hatch and into the second cabin, he had tidied it up for his passengers, the holoprojectors on the walls displayed a comfy Bedouin tent interior.
After settling them in, he went back out to the pad where Tej-Gabrul was waiting for him. The old man took his forearm, held it and gave him a long hard look "Know this, Atif Ibn Sharjar, I entrust you with my very blood. The Tej-Ka-Jalfa tribe do not forsake our friends, nor forgive our enemies. The Divine One, who sees all, knows we return in kind that which we receive, kindness or hatred, we shirk from neither. Honor or death, we will repay in full."
Sensing a formal response was required Atif replied "By the will of My Prophets and on my honor, I will see your family safe to their destination"
The old man nodded, satisfied, he released Atif's forearm and moved to rejoin the carts with a final warning "Be careful on the glass, do not venture on it alone, it is as treacherous as the fiery ones themselves"
Atif did his customary preflight walk around of his craft, then reboarded and locked the hatch. He went forward into the cockpit and began his take off routine.
Ten minutes later, the engines warmed up and rumbling away, he contacted the Spaceport Tower, gained departure clearance, listing an oasis along his route as his destination and lifted off. He climbed to altitude and swung into his course vector.
The Al Ashar cleared the spaceport perimeter and set out west into the deep desert.
