ASHES AMONG THE STARS

My first experience with Star Trek was with the original series. Not in reruns but the first airing on CBS in 1966. Yeah I am that freaking old. I was one of those first Trekies to be fascinated by the possibilities that lay ahead. In the sixties we dialed a telephone and took selfies with a Polaroid. If you don't know what that's like look it up on your smart phone tribble brain.

The show was maybe too far ahead for mainstream viewers and was canceled after three seasons. The show ended up in what was then considered the old TV show bone yard, syndication. But then the unbelievable happened in 1979 Star Trek the Motion Picture resurrected the show the cast and crew. The rest is Science Fiction history.
Having the Kool Kollectables comic store put me right in the mix with the fans and the actors themselves. It was a fantastic time in the 1990s for the Trek experience was really blasting off.
Sadly one by one the originals are fading away Bones, Scotty, Chapel and now Spock. They leave behind a rich legacy like no other in the world of science fiction. One lone near forgotten TV show fought back from the brink of extinction by virtue of a devoted fan base that continued to grow every year after the show ended. Movies, more TV shows, comics, novels, cartoons, and of course the conventions. It was in fact the fans dressing up in costume that saved the franchise.
The stars many of whom were struggling to get work were regulars at the early cons. William Shatner and Lenard Nimoy were both working but neither went on to big box office fame. At least not until the first movie brought it all back.

Star Trek has influenced millions the world over and not just in entertainment but in every aspect of society. Star Trek creator Jean Roddenberry's vision has shaped how we speak and interact with each other. There is hardly a child in America that hasn’t been touched in some way by Star Trek. For half a century the notion that we humans can trek across the galaxy and boldly go where no man has gone before is as powerful today as it was then.

While none of the famed originals have ever gone into space during their life times many have symbolically made the voyage. In 1997 a small portion of Gene Roddenberry's ashes were launch into space. His intrepid wife Majel Barrett Roddenberry who was involved with every Star Trek series until her death in 2008 was also launched into orbit in 2012. Her Husband Gene accompanied her this time and now they Trek together.

A gram of James Doohan's ashes were launched in 2008 but the rocket failed to reach orbit. Never one to let a malfunction stop him Scotty prevailed. In 2012 a second launch from Spaceport America in Southern New Mexico was successful. Scotty made it into space along with real life astronaut Gordon Cooper of the legendary Mercury Seven crew.

These space burial launches were not just for the rich and famous hundreds of ordinary citizens also made those flights. That's what Star Trek does it makes space travel seem accessible to everyone. And some day it will be.

Scientists and engineers the world over are working on new technologies inspired by Star Trek. Space travel, communications, medicine and societal relations. From birth to death Star Trek is a part of us all.

DEATH AND DOMINATION EPISODE ONE

I haven't added to vetterSverse in some time. It's difficult to post regular articles and write books. So it's one or the other. Crossbreeds my Science fiction series has consumed my writing time for several years. Friends have been asking me to do a Blood Moon Social Club vampire story so my solution is to combine blogging with writing a book. Also I welcome your input in the Blood Moon Social Club FB group as I unfold the story over the next few weeks. This story has long been digging its way out of the dark recesses of my mind and now it's free I give you Death and Domination.

BLOOD MOON SOCIAL CLUB

DEATH AND DOMINATION EPISODE ONE

By Karl Clay Vetter & C. Vetter

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the authors’ imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
This story was inspired by the fictional events and characters created at the Blood Moon Social Club's interactive theater. Produced and directed by Karl Clay Vetter, C. Vetter and Patrick Foster.
The authors wish to thank all the Blood Moon Social Club members for their outstanding performances and support. The fictional characters in this story pay homage to you each and every one. Proceeds from this book go toward keeping the Blood Moon Social Club alive.
Copyright protected © 2015 by Karl Clay Vetter and C. Vetter.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the creators, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized digital sharing is a punishable offense.
Technical support Patrick Foster.

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OTHER BOOKS BY KARL CLAY VETTER & C. VETTER

BATTLE BUTTE: CROSSBREEDS 1

THEY WERE BORN HUMAN THEY BECAME SOMETHING ELSE

TANGLEWOOD TERORISTS: CROSSBREEDS 2
HUMAN SOULS TRAPED IN ANIMAL SKINS

DARK LEGENDS: CROSSBREEDS 3
NO HEROES ONLY DARK LEGENDS

LINK FROM WWW.KOOLKOLLECTABLES.COM TO AMAZON.
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DEATH AND DOMINATION CHAPTER 1 THE VAMPIRE

A rattling of chains and a low growl warned them he was alert to their approach. Barron slowed his pace. “Good doggy we've brought you a tasty treat.” The growling became a mewling at the sound of his voice. Barron was tall and gaunt his bodyguard could have made two of him. The big man carried a five gallon bucket of fresh drawn cow's blood. Its iron rich fragrance reached the flaring nostrils of the dog. Dog only in a technical sense. The beast had been a Tibetan Mastiff in 1953 when Barron altered it into what it was now. Barron willed his forefinger to inch out a claw for which to make a small cut in his palm. Dark ancient blood pooled in his cupped hand. “Here you go Brutus.” A huge tongue lapped it up. A moan of pleasure shuddered through the horrendous canine. The big man emptied the bucket into a large metal pan. The hell beast set to gulping it down.

Barron scratched the monstrous head and stepped past the creature that stood six feet at the shoulders. “I'll be back shortly.”
“Okay Boss.”
Barron stepped up to a security pad and scanned his key card then punched in a twenty digit code. The twenty-four inch thick steel door opened. He entered and taking careful steps walked past a score of deadly traps until he came to another locked door. This one was protected not with electronics but magik. Powerful wards to stop supernatural creatures from entering were carved into the door. He invoked several incantations to open the inner vault.
Once inside he moved about examining his treasures. Rare magical artifacts he'd been collecting for centuries. Enchanted jewels, magik talismans, supernatural weapons. One among them was his favorite. A golden orb the size of a small orange. It was intricately carved and had an ambient glow that emanated from its core. Powered by arcane forces even he did not fully comprehend. At either end it had an opening he surmised was for joining with another orb. Until recently he wasn't sure that any other orbs still existed.
Next to the orb lay a scroll a new acquisition and possibly a clue as to locating the orb's missing kin. He gently lifted the scroll and left the vault.
The tunnel leading away from the vault turned sharply to the left. The two reunited an entered a dungeon like holding area. In one cell a pale man was bound to a set of chains each inscribed with symbols similar to the carvings on the vault door.
Barron looked through the cell window. “Well Micheal have you used this time to reflect on your mistake?”
The chained man looked him in the eyes. “I give you my blood oath it will never happen again.”
Barron nodded. “Good, and to make sure you'll give me a draft of your blood as security. In the event that you slip up and try to steal from me again. Agreed?”
Michael nodded in submission. “Agreed.”
Barron summoned the jailer. “Cepheus, prepare for Micheal’s release.”
Cepheus came to the door. He did not bother to cloak himself in the guise of a human. Working in the dungeon had it's perks and one was not caring if you looked like a hunched backed rotting corpse with a brace of crooked yellow fangs for a grin. “Yes my lord I'll do it straight away.”
“Good and has our other guest been behaving?”
“Oh yes my Lord. He's no trouble at all. A diet of rat's blood keeps them quiet but offers nothing for which to build power. Number three is meek as a kitten.”
He moved past an empty cell and looked in the third one. “Mo'ajin. what am I to do with you?”
The creature in the cell was not chained for his body appeared to have little in the way of a bone structure. “The cell however was carved with layers of binding glyphs powerful enough to hold Lucifer himself.
The thing slithered to within a foot of the door for to come any closer would result in agony. “Barron, so pleasant you've come to visit. What to do with me? Well I told you what to do when you put me here. Destroy me. You surly must know by now that I'll never consent to being one of your blood slaves like that that fool Michael.”
“Trust me old friend if I knew a way to remove you permanently I would have, but your arcane magic is too resilient. I killed you three times and you still came back. I fear I'm stuck with you.”
“Fear not my old foe. We'll reconcile our differences some day and then it will be you in here and me out there. What a turn of events that will be.”
Baron nodded. “Perhaps, in a century or two.”
A sound meant to be a sardonic chuckle came from the prisoner. “What is time to such as we?”

DEATH AND DOMINATION CHAPTER 2 THE SHADOW SHIFTER

Stagger entered the Blood Moon Social Club from the front doors and strolled across the casino's main floor. To his left poker tables and dealers flipping cards to fill hands. He knew all of the players. On his right black jack players and much the same. A collection of regulars betting in the thousands as if dollars held no greater value than popcorn. A few glanced at him giving only a slight nod of recognition. He continued past the bar where every glass held a crimson beverage with no ice. He came to a door and swept past the hulking security. Up a flight of stairs and into another secured chamber. This time the guards stopped him and sniffed him all over. Satisfied his scent was kosher the brutes stepped aside. Stagger softly knocked once then entered the dimly lit room.

Behind a large antique desk sat a pale gaunt man his cold direct eyes devouring a scroll the words in a lost language. Stagger waited for him to stop reading. Moments passed.
The reader gazed up at him. “You look agitated what is it now?”
“You want it all at once?”
“You know I don't like it when you rush you tend to skip details.”
“Okay, I”ll start with the bad news and finish with the really bad news. You know that guitar player the one with the long dark hair?”
“Stone?”
“Yeah, he turned some dancer from the Palomino. She got away from him and before he could bring her back she killed a local. Ripped his jugular right out.”
“Send a cleaner out to mop up the mess, and get Duncan onto the police and the corner. He's good at heading off the press. Is that all?”
“Well I got a tip from Turgay that a pack of wolves are camped out beyond the old cemetery. That always means trouble.”
“Yes but if we greet them with say Boris or better yet Adrianna, she's got a knack with animals. Send her with a message, as long as there is no trouble on club ground they are welcome inside the sanctum.”
“Now let me work I've been at this for days and still can't crack this code...” his finger tracing a line on the scroll.
“But Barron, don't you want to hear the worse news?”
“I thought that was it, what could be worse than a pack of blood crazed savages hovering at our door?”
“He's back, at least that's what Ian says. He got a vision that the shadow shifter is back from hell knows where.”
Barron leaned back and for the first time since hearing all the bad news did he actually look concerned. “Check it out. Quietly, we don't want a panic. I really don't need this right now. I'm so close to figuring it out. He'll complicate things.”
“Complicate things! He's a fucking disaster.” Stagger turned and left.
Barron returned to his studies. The ancient text before him held great fascination. So much so his attention was focused solely on it for another half hour. Then he felt something, there was no sound but something cold and deadly crept into the sealed room. His eyes glanced around. Then he saw it near a wall of books, a movement in the darkest corner.”
A chilling voice spoke like a whisper of death drifting on arctic wind. “Greetings dear old friend. Have I come at an inopportune moment?”
“No, as a matter of fact I've been expecting you. Please join me. Should I lower the lights?”
“Just a little. Thank you.”
Barron moved with careful intent so as not to alarm his guest. Dimming the lights then gesturing to a large black leather chair. “Please make yourself comfortable. I'll lock the door.” He touched a button on the desk. A click came from the office door. “There, now we can chat in private. How have you been?”
The shadow dissolved and a tall lean figure stepped into the room. His eyes were black as onyx his pale cadaverous skin a stark contrast to the long black coat draped over his shoulders. As he came forward the low illumination in the room seemed to shun his presence. He took the proffered seat and slide into it. All save for his face and long dexterous hands faded into the darkness of the chair. “Your hospitality is appreciated Barron. I'm rarely greeted with such courtesy.”
“I find our visits illuminating if you'll pardon that word?”
The figure smiled. “Not at all my friend your dry wit amuses me. You are so concerned with the comfort of others, but I'm here to offer you my service in your hour of need.”
“Your kind offer is appreciated, but I'm not aware of any need.”
“There it is on your desk, just reading that dusty scroll has opened certain channels of awareness in the dark realms. With every word you translate it sends ripples into the outer reaches like notes on harp strings. You seek clues to the scepter's whereabouts, do you not?”
Barron sat back watching his guest with the intensity of a detective, searching for the tiniest clue as to his true intentions. None presented. “I won't ask how you came to know that, as I'm sure you would not tell me.” Lying to the creature in front of him would be a futile effort and offensive. “Yes I seek to know of the lost Scepter of Babylon, but what you say of awareness in the dark realms. Am I to understand that my kind are aware, or something darker?”
His guest gave a twisted smile. “Oh dear friend only you among the blood drinkers has the intellect to comprehend its significance. The awareness of which I speak is darker than even hell's own demon hoard. You will need me and others too, if you are to acquire what you desire.”
“Why do you want to help me?” Barron raised his hand. “Perhaps I should rephrase that. What do you seek in return for that help?”
“I owe you a debt. Had you not interceded when we last met that Egyptian's spell might well have extinguished my dark flame.”
“Ah yes the mummy. Well, my job is to keep the peace around here. By the way he's a regular and word is he'll pay a Pharaoh’s ransom for whatever internal organs you might posses.”
A gruesome grin slipped across his face. “Never let it be said that a mummy's curse impeded a life debt owed by Arrogan Rapture.”
***

Coming soon chapters three The Mummy and four The Wolf. Bone searing hatred and blood feuds threaten to burn down the Blood Moon Social Club.

Thank you for reading.
Your humble purveyor Karl Clay Vetter.