The Space Orc's Renaissance

CONCEPT: Apollo, prince of an intergalactic band of warriors, takes a brief supply run on planet earth with some of his trusted advisors. A Renaissance fair seems like the perfect place to blend in. 

Andy Smith agreed to cover her friend’s shift at the ren fair, as a siren for the tourists. A little flirting is part of the performance, but she might have real chemistry with one of the cosplayers. His makeup is exceptionally realistic, and she suspects those muscles are the real deal. 

His supply run becomes a mission to win the heart of his fated mate. Her good deed triggers the adventure of a lifetime. 

FREE SAMPLE BELOW!!!!

CHAPTER 1 : A feast for the senses

Apollo had only agreed to wear this ridiculous, scandalous outfit so that he could safely travel the surface of an embargoed planet for a few pallets of fresh food to boost crew morale. After a year fully enclosed in their ship, all of his 20 men were losing their color as rations grew more expired and stale.

They had no means to expedite their trip home. Long range comms were irreparable, the hyperdrive lost two of its three crystals, and home was still another year of travel away. Their families likely thought they were dead and had already mourned. 

He would readily give his life for any of the men under his command. Instead, they needed him to wear a generous loincloth, infiltrate a protected, primitive planet, and try to trade scrap materials for some fresh food. The ship’s nutrient pastes had run out of any flavor months ago. 

At least his cultural aid, Kayvon, was already familiar with this planet. Its dominant inhabitants called the planet dirt. No, Earth, and they called themselves humans. 

Kayvon inhaled information like homeworld air and was fascinated by micro cultures throughout the galaxy. His notes on Earth were surprisingly detailed. 

Kayvon's research showed humans were a fascinating and idiosyncratic species who hadn't yet left their galaxy, or even their solar system. They were short-sighted in their use of natural resources and tended toward war as a means to solve their arguments. 

Apollo’s people, the Lor’kin, had once been as rash and arrogant as the humans. Millenia as their Galaxy's most fearsome mercenaries had enriched their homeworld but destroyed their culture and identity.

In a way, that was how he ended up at the helm of their relatively tiny cruiser, flung far away from home. Their peace mission hadn't gone well, and they were lucky to have limped along this far on their journey. 

Earth did not have fuel or technology that would repair their ship, but some exotic, fresh foods would re-energize his crew. 

Apollo flexed his palms and tugged the waist  of his “kilt.” Kayvon insisted they would “blend in” at the human market called a “Renaissance fair.” At least their replicator still worked on textiles. 

Apollo was shirtless, and his green-grey skin complemented the intricate, multi-color box pattern of the kilt. Apollo would still be taller than most humans, broader, and his tearing teeth a bit sharper, but Kayvon insisted it was enough. 

Apollo's first breath of Earth's atmosphere felt like waking from a bad dream. The soil and the greenery teemed with organic life and was a welcome reprieve from the ship’s biocyling. Some of the smells bordered on rotten, but even that was part of an ecosystem's natural flow.

They hid their shuttle a few miles from the nearest human building and trekked towards the fair.

As warriors, Apollo and Kayvon were more than capable of stealth. But today, every step Kayvon took was underscored by a light jingle of metal discs. 

Compared to Apollo’s outfit, Kayvon’s was more garish and layered: a flowing black shirt, an embroidered vest, gold bangles on every limb, a cloth tied across his head, and beaten leather pants far too tight to be comfortable. Kayvon’s slimmer build and selective color ability allowed him to tone down his skin’s default orange hue enough to pass for an ordinary human. Kayvon seemed almost giddy about their trip. 

Soon, they encountered a stream of humans meandering towards the market entrance. A few waved at Apollo and pointed their gripping digits towards the sky. On instinct, he returned their gestures. 

Apollo and Kayvon fell in step with a family unit. The smallest child sat in a rolling basket, and the eldest carried a play sword on his belt. 

“What are you?” The eldest child regarded Apollo with open curiosity and a tinge of concern. 

Only Apollo's years of diplomatic tutoring kept the shock off his face. For a moment, he thought that their outfits were so ridiculous that even a child recognized they were aliens to this place. 

Then he noticed the child and the parents seemed entirely too calm about a new life species in their midst.

Apollo had to double bluff and commit to the gambit. He smiled widely and bowed as if he had just been presented to a fellow monarch. 

“I am an l’orkin, known to your people as ferocious monsters, but I promise I'm only here to get some fresh food.”

The boy bit his lip and glanced at his parents, who were smiling and nodding, encouraging him to respond.

“Do you eat people?”

Apollo exaggerated his shock, just as he would for his own nephews. “Never!” He declared solemnly. “However, I will bite them if they're mean to me or my friends.” 

“Or if they ask very nicely,” the mom muttered and elbowed her husband, who hid his laugh poorly behind a cough and grinned at her. 

The child didn't possess Apollo’s superior hearing and did not notice his parents flirting. Kayvon’s briefing on the planet did not mention that humans included biting in their courtship rituals. Apollo mentally chided himself for this line of thinking. His crew needed food. Courtship habits were not a relevant subject.

While he pondered too much, the human child tilted his head sideways and stared openly at Apollo's arms. “Are all orcs green? The ones in my games are red.” 

“We come in all colors!” Kayvon cut in. “I myself turn a lovely shade of orange under the right lighting.”

The boy’s parents burst into giggles and Apollo did not understand the source of their mirth. 

Kayvon added, “and some of my best friends are purple!” 

“And do THEY eat people? Perhaps have just one eye?” the man asked. Even the child was grinning now.  

“No, and my one-eyed friend is blue,” Kayvon spoke with sincerity but the human couple’s laughter swelled again. 

 “PLEASE tell me you guys take this act on the road,” the mom said. “You two could be professional improv comics. Like blue man group meets Abbot and Costello.” 

Most of the words in her sentence made no sense to Apollo, despite his translator. But he understood the tone was positive, and he could live with that. So he smiled, nodded and fell silent. 

Kayvon continued to engage the family in small talk while Apollo took in the sights of the many, many humans in clothing that had little cohesion. The females mostly wore brightly colored and embellished skirts and braced tops that accentuated their figures. The males mostly dressed in natural shades but many added woven metals and leather.

His own outfit was one of the more colorful and more revealing male outfits. Either Kayvon’s research was wrong or he was enacting some elaborate prank. But nobody stopped to admonish Apollo. If anything, when he accidentally met the gazes of the humans, many looked pleased by what they saw. Humans culture was truly strange. 

Meanwhile Kayvon and the human family indulged the child by listening to his rambling explanation of the rules of the fair. His parents chuckled and Kayvon was nodding along as seriously as if they were planning a battle.

The crowd thickened as they approached the narrow entrance lines. Apollo lost focus on the boy's story as he sorted through the sounds, checking for signs of danger reflexively. He heard violent yells and metal clanging, but they were immediately followed by cheers and laughter. 

The boy had stopped speaking and looked at Apollo expectantly. Kayvon cut in. “Oh ho! A worthy mission for a brave young man. If you ever need help with those goblins under the bed, you can count on us.” He twirled his wrists and bent his body into an elaborate bow.

Apollo didn't know what a goblin was, but he didn't have time to ask before they shuffled through the entrance and received thin, brightly colored bracelets in exchange for a quick scan of a code block Kay'von flashed from his pseudo Earth comm device. 

“Remember, humans come here to pretend they're living like their ancestors from ages past, and like characters from their most popular mythologies,” Kayvon murmured in their native tongue. “Anything we do that's odd by their standards can be explained away as part of the play acting, as long as we don't actually hurt anyone. They have orcs and trolls in their mythology, which are probably based on encounters with our ancestors. Don't be too specific and it should all vaguely fit together. Remember: the more fun you appear to be having, the more you're fitting in.” 

Apollo nodded as he scanned the festival. Every breath brought dozens of smells. Meats, fermented brews, and some strangely sweet vapors overwhelmed his senses for a moment before he began sorting them and their general directions. His translation device allowed him to understand the words on the directional signs. They promised martial exhibitions, craft and artisanal goods, food stalls, fortune tellers, a beer garden, carnival games, and a siren cove. 

Kayvon’s contact was an old Chawtr with special dispensation to retire to earth after decades stationed as a sentience monitor across the galaxy. Gret’s final year of service overlapped with Kayvon’s first, and Kay'von still viewed the man as a mentor.

Gret could have retired somewhere more comfortable and modern, but he claimed he liked earth tomatoes and wanted to grow his own. 

“Lazy old bastard says he’ll meet us in a half turn at the beer garden. Probably expects us to buy him some booze too. Might as well get some sight-seeing in while we wait…” Kay'von’s voice trailed off as his attention drifted towards a food stall offering large chunks of smoked meat still on the bone. Primitive, but oddly appealing. 

“Go, have some fun. I will do some reconnaissance while you take a meal.” Apollo barely finished speaking before Kayvon melted into the crowd like an apex predator in deep waters - smooth, precise, and deadly for his intended target. 

Apollo studied the grounds’ map for another few moments before choosing a route that would enable him to cover the entire market in the available time. He did not have his companion’s dexterity, but Apollo's size often inspired smaller creatures to simply move out of his way.

The beer garden seemed to be an outdoor tavern, with boxes of brightly colored plants between seating areas. Gret had secured a table under the thick shade of nearby trees. Chawtrs were slightly shorter but even more densely muscled than L’Orkin, with naturally luminescent skin, antennae, and webbed appendages. Years ago, Gret had made permanent alterations to his appearance to pass as a human, but his overwhelming bulk was impossible to change. 

Gret sat alone and sipped from a thick mug, but several of the ornately dressed humans who walked by stopped to exchange pleasantries with the old soldier. Meanwhile, the tavern’s apparent leader snuck long glances at Gret, and Apollo couldn’t decode her expression. She did not appear distressed, but her glances were covert.  

Apollo waited until Gret was unaccompanied and slid into the booth next to him. He pulled a carbon chunk from his belt pouch and placed it between them on a dining surface. 

“Kay'von speaks highly of your resourcefulness,” Apollo said quietly. “So I have brought this, which is considered valuable on this planet, in hopes of making a trade. My men need fresh food, and my ship needs repairs.” 

Gret let the carbon chunk sit for a moment before hefting it. “No doubt he told you that humans prize diamonds in a manner that exceeds all sense. This alone would cover food to sustain me the rest of my life and several more. As the humans like to say, what we consider trash, others covet as treasure.” 

Gret took a slow sip of his drink and appraised Apollo over the rim of his mug. “This planet has plenty of food to spare, but repairs will be significantly more difficult. And when I suggested this meeting place to Kay'von, I hoped he had the sense to put you in a more discreet disguise. But I suppose it's just like him to double bluff.”

The tavern matriarch approached their table. “Welcome traveler. What can we get you?” She was tall for a human woman, and age had not diminished her commanding presence. Despite the soft, layered garments she wore, Apollo had a sneaking suspicion this woman was a warrior. 

“A round of whatever my friend recommends, please,” Apollo replied. He forced a diplomatic smile on his face and attempted to look carefree. “This is my first time at the festival.”

Some of the sternness melted from her demeanor. “Gret has a taste for our blueberry mead. It’s strong in a way that sneaks up on you, but tasty. I'll be back with that soon.” 

“What did I just order?” Apollo asked quietly. 

“The byproduct of a pollinator insect's excess labor, fermented and with juice of a native fruit,” Gret answered. “It tastes better than it sounds, and humans have been brewing it for thousands of their years.” 

“How big are the insects?” Kay'von had not warned Apollo of other apex species on the planet. 

Gret held his thumb and ring finger barely a chip’s width apart. He grinned at Apollo’s undisguised disbelief. 

“Earth has a million such mysteries,” Gret said. “It's best just to accept the impossible here.”

Apollo nodded slowly. The festival grounds were already overwhelming, from the smells to the colors and sounds. No wonder earth was one of Kay'von many research obsessions.  

The matriarch returned with the impossible beverage. Apollo took a cautious sip, but the flavor won his favor instantly. It was sweet, rich, cooling and bright. He detected the fermentation, but it lacked the usual harshness of L’orkin spirits.

Carefully, he set the drink down. He did not deserve to indulge while his men waited for essential supplies. 

“So,” Gret started, “how does a ship of Olympus caliber end up half dead and drifting this far outside the Accords lanes?”

His tone held no rebuke, and he did not seem in any hurry to make guesses. 

Apollo sighed and slumped in his seat. “Iearans. Specifically, one Iearan with an augmented-intelligence battle cruiser and a grudge.”

“And here I thought the Iearans were more peaceful these days.” 

After decades of hostilities and skirmishes, where Iearans outmatched L'orkin in technology but the L'orkin were unbeatable in physical combat, the two species had enjoyed relative tolerance since the current Iearan queen rose to power. She rededicated much of their wartime resources to planet-side advancements in medicine and infrastructure. 

“I thought the Iearans, with our shared genetic history, might be willing to assist us in identifying the reason for declining rates of true mate pairings. I believe my opening statements during our visit were misinterpreted as me propositioning their ruler, and her brother took offense. He is intent on murdering me, if not my entire crew, to satisfy his honor.” 

“Their language is complicated,” Gret said. “And their customs are based on somewhat uncommon assumptions.”

“You give your former pupil too little credit,” Apollo replied. “We made no direct requests and brought her a gift to thank her for granting us an audience. My medic, Palk, cultivated a cutting from our homeworld’s medicinal tree. It had just begun to bloom when we presented it.” 

Gret raised an eyebrow. “Their queen adores both botany and medicine. I doubt the gift was the issue either.” 

“He also wasn't even present for the meeting,” Apollo added. “It wasn't until we left the planet’s atmosphere that he attacked and nearly destroyed my ship. A half jump took us out of range, but with the damages, it was at great cost to our hyperdrive. It's a miracle our life support and supplies lasted long enough for us to drift here.” 

“I will need to speak with your engineer to see if I can assist with your repairs,” Gret said. “I don't suppose he’s wandering around dressed like a highlander as well?” 

“Korax and the rest of my crew remain on the ship, except Kay'von, who's hunting for food at the moment.” 

Gret’s laughter boomed across the courtyard and the people nearby quieted for a moment. Their gazes flicked over to their table but easily returned to their own parties. For a predator species, humans on the whole seemed quite docile and trusting. 

“Do you like living among them? The humans?” Apollo asked. 

“I like them the way a warrior is amused by a clever scavenger,” Gret said. “They’re unpredictable but mostly harmless and sometimes friendly to those that feed them.” 

Gret held the chunk of carbon up to the sun’s light. “You know, the humans call this structure “diamonds” and prize its shine and hardness. Males gift chunks of it to their mates as a symbol of eternal devotion.” Gret’s tone was casual, almost conspiratorial. 

“Humans have true mates?” Perhaps the structure of the crystal facilitated some biological connection. He’d seen odder things in the cosmos. No wonder they valued these diamonds so highly.

“Stars no, they have something called marriage, where they make promises that most of them later break.” Gret pulled away from the table. “Never trust a human in matters of love and mates,” he said somberly. “They'll shatter your soul.” Pain lurked in his eyes but Apollo didn't press him. Whatever Gret had endured at human hands, he still didn't ask for a rescue from the planet. 

Gret tapped his earthly short range comm device with Apollo’s. “There. Now you have my channel and coordinates to my home. Have your engineer stop by tonight for a chat after dark. Humans have poor night vision and are naturally diurnal - it lessens the chance he'll be spotted.”

Gret then handed Apollo a small stack of thin green rectangles with intricate illustrations. “Here, the humans use this for currency, and this is plenty of it. I'll supply your engineer with shelf stable rations for the trip home, but for now you can get some freshly made snacks and see how the humans have fun.”