Read Co-Or Page 3


  Chapter 3

  Fortried

  Scott remembered looking again at the sky as if for some reassurance. He couldn’t find an answer up there so he had looked back at his companion.

  Scott's mind, as if on an uncontrolled wandering journey, readdressed the enormous being that had been standing beside him and had actually saved his ass in that unwarranted attack. "My companion," Well, that’s what he considered him.

  The being was tall with dark wavy hair flowing down his back. Flowing down his back only, on top of his perfectly formed head, he was completely bald and his skin shown like a new baby’s rear end lit by moon light. The hairline seems to only start at the lower part of the back of his head and continue down his neck to his shoulders. He had let his hair grow and now it was about two feet in length. When there was a breeze the fluttering hair seemed to give him the illusion of motion even when he was standing very still.

  This wasn't his only amazing attribute, no not at all. Scott thought that no one could forget his face or his eyes? He knew he couldn’t forget them. There is no way a description of his companion could be completed without including these unmistakable, unmatched complimentary attributes.

  His face looked like something chiseled out of a creamy textured, dark tanned piece of granite. A super square jaw, high cheek bones and eyes like cold blue steel. Scott felt those eyes left you mentally pierced through and through. His eyes seem to see deep into a person's brain and see their innermost thoughts and Scott agreed that maybe those eyes could see one’s ideas forming.

  He stood about seven and a half feet tall and his massive shoulders give the impression of uncommon, if not impossible, strength. His two arms and two legs are, except for their muscular size, similar to all the bipeds across the universe.

  What had Scott been doing with this unlikely companion? The answer to that question is a little unusual and you could bet your life, that had not been in his plans. He actually won him in the main planet lottery while he was on its second moon called Plaintanet where they held the drawing. Everyone there had a stake in those prizes or was part of the prize committee. Boy, just think he was only after the fifth prize, a three month supply of Podium. Podium is the fuel that everyone uses for their space faring vehicles and it is a little expensive. What he won was much more valuable but it was something he wasn’t supposed to have. You have to understand he is a Coordinator. His job is to prevent war between worlds, worlds that have a problem with each other. His job is peace and peace only, so what need would he have with a live, in perfectly good working order, Warman?

  A Warman is a breed of people who were specifically bred and trained for only one purpose. The purpose of war! They are like mercenary soldiers who were used in full scale conflict between warring world. They are bought and sold to the highest bidder. After all aerial attacks have quieted down, they were used to physically land and invade a given target.

  Warman, although thought of as just another piece of equipment, were very expensive and a loss of one was not taken lightly. The victory usually goes to the world with the most capital available for the purchase of a number of Warmans.

  Now here he was, a peace keeper, with his very own personal Warman. Boy if his boss knew, he would truly be upset. Scott tried to trade him for the less valuable prize but he had no takers. They all thought it was a little on the shady side of the planet’s law. Scott couldn’t refuse to take him for it is their law that an unwanted Warman would be simply eliminated. He couldn’t have that on his conscious. Scott thought he wasn’t that hard to look at and his personality and skill in just about all the languages spoken in the universe, made him easy to converse with.

  Scott remembered bringing his attention back to the approaching conference as it was. He had decided he would give the people a little more time to get there. While he did that he'd had some lunch and tried to decide how to introduce his friend here to those expected when they got there. He didn't expect that they would believe that he was a peace keeper for no peace keeper would have a live Warman of his own. Well, that is unless the peace keeper couldn’t trust the people he would be dealing with in the conference. Boy, he couldn’t let them think that or his job would have been made impossible. The main rule in any conference is to instill the trust of all present. Without implicit trust there would be no chance of stopping an impending or full scale conflict. Scott had offered some of his nourishment to Fortried. Fortried is his friend’s name, well, that was freely translated into Scott's language of course. He had refused the food but had taken some of the liquid refreshment that was offered.