Cosmic Sentinel:

  a SCANT few

  Written by:

  Reinventor

  PART ONE

  Grubnash, the burrow-master, made his daily rounds, surveying the newest area of the mountain that the workers of his clan had recently opened. This small, subterranean burrow was their home, their workplace, and their stronghold. It generally bustled with activity as the clan tunneled further, expanding their territory, making room for their growing numbers and seeking new scavenging grounds.

  To occupy his time when not mediating the numerous disputes, Grubnash often wandered through the caverns, conversing with his clan members, foraging for tubers and bugs to keep the Goblin clan fed, and searching for anything of interest that might bring the clan additional income or sustenance.

  On this day, Grubnash sifted through excess debris. The workers had unearthed it, moved it from the wall they were pushing forward, and piled it near the old living area to help block the entrance, as that place had become too filled with trash and excrement to be livable anymore.

  Grubnash was scavenging for worms or small pieces of ore the workers might have missed when he came across a peculiar piece of metal within the darkened soil. It caught his eye, glinting in the torchlight. A small hint of something larger, trapped within the dirt. Turning it over in his small, gnarled hand, his curiosity grew. He clenched tight, breaking the clinging soil and causing it to fall away.

  The oddly colored piece of metal had a greenish hue, similar to his own skin, but far more polished and less mottled. Once he rubbed it along his tattered cloak, its design became more clear. This was no mere piece of metal, it was a key. Grubnash was unsure what it might unlock, a treasure chest, perhaps, but its end was triangular rather than toothed, which made him wonder at its true nature.

  At the key’s opposite end, a strange glyph was etched into the metal. The glyph was unlike anything he’d seen before, though his exposure to writing was limited. Still, the curious symbol felt oddly important.

  The strange, key-like piece of metal definitely piqued his interest. After ensuring no others were watching, he surreptitiously slipped it into his pocket.

  The act of hiding this possible treasure from the rest of the clan reminded him of his father, a thought he quickly pushed aside. His father would never have been found toiling amongst the clan as Grubnash was now, nor would he have had them expand the burrow. Instead, he would have chosen to live in filth.

  His father was a warlord. If he had found such an item, he would have eagerly bragged to all, holding his new, shiny treasure aloft, proudly displaying it to show he was the leader. He would have been awash in his arrogance and greed.

  Grubnash was different; he was not his father.

  Shortly after pocketing the intriguing key, an unusual metallic clang caught his attention. It was unlike the normal rhythmic striking of the workers' crude pickaxes upon granite, a sound that was almost constant and to which everyone in the burrow had grown accustomed. Instead of the deep thud of pickaxe upon stone, this sound held a hollow, almost musical quality as it echoed through the deep stone.

  The resonance reverberated around them, as though a large bell had been struck. The unexpected metallic clang froze them in their tracks, including most of the clan's workers, some still mid-swing as they registered the unusual sound.

  A sense of wonder, fear, and curiosity swept over the entire area and all the Goblins within. Something out of the ordinary had just happened, and the ring of metal suggested they had found something great and valuable.

  As if in unison, every Goblin's head swiveled to the end of the cavern, staring at the now-shivering young worker who had struck the resounding blow.

  Grubnash watched in fascination as all eyes turned toward the young Goblin.

  He himself turned, but rather than looking at the worker, his gaze locked onto the shiny piece of greenish-hued metal that the young one had struck, its surface now glaringly exposed.

  The rock around the object had crumbled away, revealing the coppery protrusion, its unknown remaining surface area still locked behind layers of dark basalt.

  The Goblin backed away slowly, not understanding what he had just found, fearing he had just done something wrong instead of finding something amazing. Grubnash, on the other hand, rushed forward and was quickly joined by the clan shaman, Irgug.

  They arrived simultaneously, having taken tools from the hands of the still-frozen Goblin workers along their path, and quickly began removing the debris from around the exposed metallic object, their excitement at the discovery clearly evident both on their faces and in their excited swings.

  Neither Grubnash nor Irgug could fathom the true nature of the young Goblin's discovery.

  As they chipped away at the rock with tools taken from the hands of the workers, they couldn't help but imagine unearthing the remnants of a long-ago cave-in that had claimed the lives of wealthy adventurers, leaving behind weapons and armor to be restored, sold, or melted down for reuse.

  Similar thoughts were slowly making their way through the minds of the rest of the clan now, causing others to begin encircling them and chipping away at the wall with feverish speed.

  As they continued to chip away at the rock and the size of the metallic object grew larger, their imaginings turned to dreams of uncovering an ancient treasure room, once guarded by mystical druids or ancient cultists, now long forgotten and buried by the ravages of time. The likes of which could bring their clan untold power and fortune.

  As the exposed brass-like surface continued to enlarge, they marveled at the growing size and shape of the object before them. All their hopes and dreams were becoming dwarfed by what was taking shape behind the stone.

  Grubnash had always been more inquisitive than most of his fellow Goblins, a trait that many in the clan appreciated, but one his father had despised. He had inherited the title of burrow-master after his father was slain by an adventurer's sword almost three years ago.

  His father had been far more brutal and violent, leading the clan to the surface many times to raid settlements. His main goals in life were to battle, rape, and pillage—a stark contrast to Grubnash's own aims, which were less violent and more focused on exploration, a difference that had often felt like a disappointment to his sire.

  Despite frequent beatings from his father for his lack of cruelty, Grubnash's core ideals remained steadfast. So, with his father's death and his own ascension to leadership, he had transitioned the Goblins here into a more peaceful life.

  This burrow was not like most. Under Grubnash’s guidance, and with Irgug’s approval, they had chosen neutrality, focusing on searching out ore, minerals, and sometimes other treasures to trade with the people above.

  It had taken much effort, but their showing of peaceful ways afforded their clan a tentative alliance with the settlements and traders who passed near their mountain.

  However, there was always an undercurrent of unease in their dealings; the violent and predatory tendencies of most Goblins tarnished the reputations of the few clans that strived for a more peaceful existence, making their path ahead more difficult for merely being of the same species.

  Even though the clan was no longer raiding, this didn't mean there still weren't scuffles or disputes, even amongst the clans within the burrow. In fact, these were daily occurrences, and frequently, the Goblins' violent tendencies won out, leaving at least one of the parties dead.

  This is why Grubnash encouraged everyone available to pick up an axe or shovel and work the ground, to dig and excavate, occupying them and sparking joy whenever one of them unearthed an item of value.

  Unbeknownst to Grubnash at the time, the green-hued key in his pocket was a small clue to the true nature of what lay beneath the mountain's rock.

  "An dat, ya pa’tetic li’l whelps, is how da great Grubnash and me foun’ da Tarnished Starfang," Irgug concluded his tale, flourishing his gnarled staff towards the still-uncovered, brass-like object protruding from the cavern wall. His ancient arm, weak with age, shook with the effort, the movement taking several seconds to complete.

  The young Goblins clapped politely for the old shaman. They had all grown up with the enormous, green-hued vessel being excavated at the far end of the cavern they now occupied. The Goblins working on the excavation had speculated endlessly about what the object actually was but had settled on the idea that something that large had to be some sort of giant vessel. They called it a ship, reasoning that other than a large unusual building, nothing else seemed to fit its profile, shape, and size.

  Among the young Goblins listening to Irgug’s tale was one young Goblin who seemed particularly intrigued.

  His eyes brimmed with slightly more intelligence than the typical Goblin. He was different from the others in other ways as well, driven by a relentless curiosity and a strong work ethic.

  He pursued his personal duties with diligence, often working on the excavation long after the official workday ended, even though his station provided him with every excuse to avoid working at all.

  It was clear, even at this early age, that with his intelligence and dedication, he was destined for something greater.

  This young Goblin’s name was Hyruk, and he was fortunate enough to be the youngest of Grubnash's children. Even though he wouldn't be next in line of succession, he enjoyed a slightly elevated status among the other clan members.

  The large metallic object had become an integral part of their lives. The clan had begun its metamorphosis, replacing the old standards of external raiding and clan wars previous to its discovery, but the mysterious object brought new ideas, trade options, and a renewed sense of purpose to the clan.

  The ship had become a goal they could strive for, something they all hoped to one day finish removing from the stone. A piece of technology unseen before on this planet, it represented a path to great wealth and opportunity.

  Some Goblins also saw it as a potential source of immense power, far beyond the imaginings of any other Goblin tribes. Yet, the more the Goblin clans dug, the larger the ship seemed to be, and the more unlikely it felt that their task of removing it from the mountain would ever be complete.

  Throughout his life, Hyruk toiled away, meticulously removing the rock from around the Tarnished Starfang. He worked with a sense of wonder and pride, tirelessly exploring the strange vessel and easily distinguishing himself from the other workers through his diligence and curiosity.

  His two older siblings had been less intrigued by the ship and more drawn to the typical Goblin mindset of violence and a lust for power. They had formed factions and declared a clan war, killing each other simultaneously in their attempts to secure their role as the next burrow-master.

  The resulting conflict decimated the clans, their rival factions wiping out a significant portion of the community, with no regard for who was caught in the crossfire.

  As Grubnash's only surviving child, Hyruk inherited the title of burrow-master, a position thrust upon him after his siblings' violent demise. With the title, he also became the next keeper of the triangular key, an ancient artifact whose real purpose had been lost to time.

  As Grubnash lay on his deathbed, he handed over the shiny metal key to Hyruk and spoke of its supposed importance. “Keep it safe. Maybe one day you get to find the hole to stick it in,” Grubnash wheezed, struggling for breath, a crooked smile playing on his lips. To him, the key had always been more a curiosity than a sacred relic. “I give my treasure to you now. Good luck.”

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  To Hyruk, the key symbolized something great, something he could hold when things felt worst, a goal to strive for. Although his father may not have been able to put the pieces together, the instant the key touched Hyruk’s hand, he knew it had to be the key to unlocking the vessel they had worked so hard to unearth.

  Grubnash's death followed shortly after the costly clan war, leaving Hyruk to lead what remained of the diminished clan. He considered it his duty to clean up after his siblings' idiocy and continue the excavation of the mysterious ship, a project that had proven far more beneficial than their endless squabbles.

  Consequently, Hyruk found himself leading a clan smaller than any in recent memory. He had little love for the violence that had taken his brothers and instead focused his efforts on using his greater intelligence to rebuild the clan back to its former size.

  He saw the excavation as a unifying force, a source of purpose that had brought the clan together in prosperity. He valued the trade routes his father had initiated and intended to forge an even more peaceful path, rejecting the calls for violence that still echoed among some of the clan.

  Hyruk found new ways to continue the excavation work, taking the remaining workers they had and acquiring better tools for them to use, while also siring as many new whelps as he possibly could during his reign; he felt this was the least he could do to personally assist in the clan’s growth.

  Alongside his continued labor and Goblin baby-making, Hyruk dreamed of finding the entry to the ship and stepping foot inside. Yet sadly, that day never came.

  Despite his efforts, he was never able to board the ship or find the place to use the key. He made progress in removing the stone from the ship over the years and even glimpsed the inside of the mighty vessel after his crew found a large transparent window near what they felt had to be the top of the huge triangular shaped front end. However, the elusive entry remained hidden from him.

  During his time, as part of rebuilding the clan, Hyruk had established a new trade route with another Goblin clan living nearer the surface. Through them, he had acquired a new female breeding concubine; an Elf.

  Goblins could reproduce with any species, but the intelligence of the mother species often influenced the offspring. The son she bore him, Friguk, displayed more intelligence than any other Goblin Hyruk knew.

  Hyruk was relieved that his older sons showed little interest in leadership, preferring to leave such matters to their younger, more capable brother. This made for an easy transition, and since intelligence was a trait Hyruk valued above all others, Friguk, born of one of Hyruk's final matings, was destined to be the next burrow-master.

  Years later, as Hyruk’s son Friguk took his place, the elderly burrow-master felt at peace with the work he had put in and handed the key down to its new owner. Leaving the rest of the excavation to his youngest son, Hyruk dearly hoped that Friguk would be the one to find the entrance to the vessel, and possibly even visit the stars.

  Finally, after generations of relentless toil, a seam along the underbelly of the Tarnished Starfang was revealed, exposing a small triangular opening. Friguk, his heart pounding with anticipation, was there to oversee the work and was the first to understand the significance of the odd looking keyhole.

  He reached his hand up, his fingers quivering, and inserted the small key into the triangular opening. The metal slid inside, and with a small twist, released the ship's ancient lock, an event that hadn’t happened in untold years.

  The entire clan held their breath as Friguk turned the key, every eye fixed on him and the mysterious ship, wondering what exactly was going to happen.

  A soft click, followed by a loud puff of stale air, and then a scraping sound of metal on stone, broke the tense silence. Friguk's heart pounded. Then, within moments, during which the entire clan seemed to hold its collective breath, a rectangular panel unfolded from the bottom of the ship and lowered to the ground below.

  The platform hovered a mere inch above the ground, held aloft by unseen forces. From his vantage point, Friguk peered up into the ship.

  There he saw things beyond his imagining, instruments glowed with a soft yellow light, illuminating silvery metal panels, walls with strange designs, snaking hoses, intricate circuitry, and dark glassy surfaces. The gleaming interior contrasted starkly with the dark, dirty, and uneven surfaces of the Goblin’s cavern into which it was now exposed.

  Having all contributed to the excavation over generations, the clan felt a deep reverence for what was revealed. They encircled the entrance, staring in slack-jawed awe at the astonishing sight before them.

  Days passed as Friguk painstakingly tried to learn how to operate the lift. The symbols were strange and unlike any language the clan had ever encountered. Finally, Friguk deciphered the symbol for 'up' and became the first Goblin to enter the ship they had dubbed the Tarnished Starfang.

  Stepping foot into the ship, he reverently began his tour, his amazement growing with each step. The highly advanced devices and equipment seemed magical and beyond explanation.

  Friguk wanted this vessel to remain pristine and undamaged, so he was careful not to touch anything. He told the few others accompanying him, "Don’t touch nothin’. The magics of the Starfang might get mad and kill us all," instilling the thought of magical death in his clan members' heads to help keep them in line.

  In the weeks that followed, more of the clan explored the ship. They began to understand just how advanced the vessel was, far beyond their initial imaginations. However, opinions among the Goblins began to split as well.

  Some wanted to dismantle it, sell the parts, and become rich quickly, indifferent to the vessel's secrets or potential. Others, including Friguk, sought to study the ship, hoping to pilot it one day, leave their mountain, and explore the greater world, or perhaps even travel beyond.

  A few also envisioned ruling the world from the skies above, raining down terror from this mysterious marvel of technology. This idea was especially persistent in the Goblins whose mothers were of poorer stock. However, the old instincts for violence and raw power were slowly giving way to a desire to explore and learn, a shift that Friguk welcomed and encouraged.

  The ship’s interior held secrets and promises that could change their lives forever. As they stood on the cusp of this new era, the Goblins felt a mix of fear and excitement growing among them. The Tarnished Starfang was no longer just a dream; it was a gateway to a future filled with possibilities.

  However, the differing ideas and desires soon led to conflict within the clan as they so often do, halting the continued excavation of the ship.

  Slightly over a month after Friguk had first stepped foot on the Tarnished Starfang, he was assassinated, stabbed in the back with a rusty dagger by the leader of an opposing faction.

  The insolent Goblin had crept into the crowd and stabbed the burrow-master in the back without even calling his name. His assassination didn't lead to his own ascension, though. The clan’s members didn't approve of such a cowardly act. Thus, Friguk’s young son became the new leader rather than the title of burrow-master fall to the other side.

  Like his father before him, Friguk sired children with the still-enslaved Elven female. Elves were highly prized in Goblin society for their long lives and breeding status; the number of children they could bear throughout their extended lifetimes could profoundly impact a clan and its members.

  In Goblin culture, it was acknowledged that the same female who birthed you might also become the mother of your children. This practice was seen as a natural part of the Goblin breeding process rather than a taboo. Thus, Friguk's only son, Daegnon, named for and greatly influenced by his mother's heritage, assumed leadership of the clan at the tender age of three, the age he was when his father Friguk died.

  Goblins aged much faster than most humanoid species, similar to the rapid development of canines; so despite his young age, Daegnon possessed the maturity of an average teenager among other humanoid species.

  Along with being mature enough to understand and take over as burrow-master, Daegnon also possessed intelligence much greater than any other in the rest of the brood. In fact, his intelligence was more akin to a human's, a simple human, but still within the human intelligence range.

  When Daegnon took over from his father, he understood he couldn't convince the Goblins who wanted to dismantle the ship to follow his vision of leaving and exploring. Instead, he needed to be decisive. He decided to show the clan that there was no room for debate.

  Therefore, he was going to claim ownership of this ship by making it fly. He would take along all in his burrow who would accompany him in his explorations away and out of this mountain, leaving behind those who opposed him. The burrow’s clans would become more than just Goblins, they would become Sky Goblins.

  With this goal in mind, Daegnon's first priority was to locate the ship's control station. If he could learn to operate it, he believed he could defend the ship from those who wanted to dismantle it for parts and then leave the mountain with his followers. He didn’t understand how or even why, but he felt the ship was capable of movement despite being buried in stone for so long. Something told him there was more to this ship than met the eye.

  As the new burrow-master, he now held the triangular key, granting him access to areas previously unexplored by the clan. He spent hours meticulously searching its rooms and common areas, determined to find the ship's control station.

  Finally, as he was about to give up for the evening, he discovered a hidden room, one that had been overlooked by the others. The only reason he found it was because he had been dragging his fingers along the wall of the hall he was walking down and felt a slight ridge where the rest of the wall was perfectly smooth below his fingertips.

  Upon further exploration, he found a set of two small holes behind a panel that sprang open at his touch. Recalling the ship's entrance lock, he placed the key into the uppermost hole, but it wouldn’t turn.

  His ancestors had found only one key, and the thought that another might be needed caused his heart to sink. But, looking more closely at the other hole, he saw it was round rather than triangular.

  An odd thought popped into his head. He gently placed his index finger into the lower hole, bracing for a trap. Inside, he felt a slight, springy resistance. Tentatively, he pressed inward. A strange hum, then a small chirp unlike anything Daegnon had ever heard before, sounded. A faint glow emanated from behind the key, still inside the upper hole. He reached up with his left hand and gave the key a gentle twist.

  Instantly the wall ahead of him began to slide open with a light hiss.

  Daegnon stepped back, startled.

  Then, as the door slid open, revealing a new room, his apprehension gave way to curiosity. Slowly and cautiously, he entered.

  This square shaped room contained a large, throne-like chair surrounded by dark plates of shiny glass. Its presence dominated the room. The grayish metallic chair with darker gray cushions sat amidst the dark glossy walls as though it were the center of the ship itself. Though still apprehensive, his teenage curiosity urged him forward. He climbed into the overly large, ill-fitting chair and attempted to adjust himself to the unfamiliar dimensions.

  He shifted about and finally found a position that was somewhat comfortable, his body reclined in a way where he was almost laying flat upon the strange throne. He wasn't sure what the chair was for, but its prominent position suggested it was important. Therefore he had to try it out.

  Then something startling happened. Before his eyes, a strange set of brightly glowing glyphs materialized in mid air, their sudden appearance and eerie glow caught him by surprise. Daegnon squeaked in terror and a small puddle may have formed on the large seat beneath him.

  For a few moments, he was paralyzed with shock, his heart racing, his breath catching in his throat. The luminous script floated before him, casting an ethereal glow. The icons pulsed and shimmered, as if alive with a mysterious energy that made the hair on the back of his toes stand on end.

  As the initial shock began to fade, Daegnon's mind started to process what he was seeing. He realized that the images were from the ship itself, He cautiously leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he tried to make sense of the odd glyphs.

  As he intently studied the glowing script, a new source of light caught his attention. He slowly turned his head, curious as to what new wonder the ship was introducing him to next. The glow of the icons illuminated a peculiar helmet hanging at the end of a silvery tube. Within the helmet, another set of glowing runes shimmered.

  The strange wire attached to it was different from most others he had seen in the ship, its surface marked with tightly grouped ridges, extending upwards into the darkened ceiling above. The helmet-type visor seemed to beckon him, a small internal light pulsating in rhythm with the glyphs, adding to the room's surreal and suspenseful atmosphere.

  Every instinct in Daegnon's body screamed caution, but his curiosity was undeniable and eventually won out.

  ‘What this thing? Why do it have glows inside?’ His mind raced with questions and possibilities, each one more bewildering than the last, as he found himself drawn closer to the enigmatic helmet, feeling a mix of fear and anticipation that left him trembling in the dim light of the room.

  He reached out, his hands trembling, and with his long, slender fingers, he took hold of the helmet; drawing it closer. He wasn’t entirely certain why he was so drawn to this device, or why placing it upon his head seemed like a good idea, but he slid it on anyway, maneuvering it around his long ears.

  It didn’t fit well; it was much too large.

  There was a slight indentation where the helmet device somewhat sat upon his large nose, but the indentation was much too narrow to fit around his bulbous nostrils.

  But as soon as it slid into place, the front portion of it covering his eyes, the helmet activated. A series of flashes burst in his vision, bombarding his mind with unknown and unwanted sensations.

  It instantly became clear to him that the ship and its technology were not designed for Goblins. His previous thoughts of flying away in the ship instantly vanished.

  The information attempting to flood Daegnon’s mind from the helmet not only hurt his eyes and brain, but also left him feeling dazed and sick.

  He didn’t know exactly what he had done, but a strange sensation passed over him, as though he were sliding down a huge underground waterfall into a vast pool of cold, sticky liquid.

  The lights continued to flash inside his eyes, the colors dancing and the images burning into his mind. The sensation of sliding was replaced by one of falling. He distantly felt his legs kick in fear.

  A hot flash passed through him, and the feeling of something strange and alien coursed through his being, leaving him questioning his own identity.

  Finally, the sliding sensation returned, then slowed, bringing Daegnon back to a place where his body seemed to be once again under his control.

  As quickly as his still slightly dazed mind would allow, Daegnon ripped the helmet off his head and ran screaming from the room, his legs covered in his own urine, leaving a wet trail behind him. His plans of using the ship to defend against the Goblins who wanted to dismantle it were forgotten entirely. All he wanted to do was leave this place and curl up in his tent.

  But he found to his horror that option was no longer possible.

  Daegnon ran to the exit, but it was sealed. He pressed the button to open the door several times, but it refused to open. The ramp, which was normally opened whenever the strange icon for “down” was pressed, refused to budge, a small buzzing sound accompanying each push.

  After several moments, he found himself surrounded by other Goblins, each of whom looked as sick and scared as he did. They were covered in sweat and smelled as though they had all left their own puddles below them in the same way he had.

  After a few frantic minutes of trying to figure out why they could no longer open the door to leave, the group was joined by a female Goblin named Glix.

  The small group that had formed at the exit watched as she arrived in a huff, leaping the last few feet down.

  Glix seemed slightly less sick than the others, but still obviously shaken. Rather than explaining why she hadn’t been affected as severely, she began ranting about how something really bad had happened, something they would have to see to believe.

  Ignoring their confused looks, she unceremoniously began dragging Daegnon away by his arm. She began to lead them to the top of the ship, using the exposed wires and conduits to climb upward, taking the route she had just come from, the same route the others had also taken, the only way to get to the upper areas of the ship.

  As the group entered the familiar room with the translucent opening they had all peered through before they had a way inside, they processed what they saw and began to understand what Glix had been telling them.

  The sight before them was no longer the mountain they knew. There was no rock, no smoke from fires, no lit torches, and clan members clamoring about.

  There was only darkness and small, shiny specks of light as far as their eyes could see.