SOLO: :TOGETHER
Abducted by aliens? That was science fiction! But -- it was true. It had happened to them. At the peak of their careers, at the start or the low point. They were all different.
Yet all the same. They were musicians. Heart and soul. Each of them had a different take on their industry. Two were drummers - one preferring the noise of programmed electronic pads, the other stuck in his traditional tuned-heads and bongos. Two were keyboardists - a pianist from a young age, and a singer with a free-format liberation guitar/synthesizer. Two guitarists - one versed in ancient instruments, and another who couldn't live without her amp. A bassist and a vocalist-sax player rounded out their number.
They grumbled to each other at first. They even almost came to blows over their situation. Yet, slowly, as they were able to calm themselves down and listen for clues beyond the steel walls of their prison, they realized that they were indeed prisoners in a ship being moved between the stars.
From Earth - but to where?
As if in answer to that unspoken question, two official - and very humanoid looking - aliens entered their room. They explained that they were to be brought before the Vocorr, Imperial dispatch police who dealt with sonic crimes.
Unbelieving, the Solos laughed at their captors.
Who then placed thick black bands around each of the Solos necks. Not realizing their use, the Solos soon discovered their situation had gone from bad to worse. For when Mike, the loudmouthed red-headed singer, attempted to belt out a bit of a punk rebellion tune - he choked so badly that he almost died. The black collars prevented even the little humming sounds that one would make, clapping or tapping of feet. Any finger-motion that resembled picking of strings or striking of keys - all produced a horrific pain all through the Solos' bodies!
How to deal with this? How to possibly get out of this situation?
The Solos were brought to the Vocorr guard-post world closest to Earth, where they were to stand "trial". It was easier for some to speak clearly in the face of this dangerous event. Sara Corsair, the vocalist from California, and Jenni the electric guitarist, kept their heads together. They spoke for the group.
They were not heard. Of course. It was typical. Both of them complained about just causes and due process, but apparently such things were not needed for a trial of this type.
Judged to be in violation of some bizarre galactic law, the Solos were thrown back into their cell, to be transported to a prison world.
Right about then, when things looked bleakest, all eight of them seemed to have the same idea at the same time. There was hope. It just had to come at the right moment. Something had to be focused. Something had to break.
Someone was communicating with them telepathically. None of them had ever experienced this before - just like all the other events of the day. They trusted this voice. It was female, a friendly but guarded voice. She urged them to wait for a small while. Then - upon a cue they all agreed would trigger it, the whole group brought the guards into their chamber.
They sang. Mike started. Choking and red-faced, he spat out a single cracking note. Corsair joined him, her shoulders shaking from the pain. Todd and Pat threw a shrieking chorus out of their lungs. Dave held on to Cathy and the other Sara, Giovanni. Jenni cried with her fingers clawing at the collar around her neck, but gave her all.
The guards smashed into their chamber, and though the Solos were already in pain, they summoned the force of will to overpower them. It did not take long to locate the collars' key release, and to get the collars off of them and around the guards' own necks, wrists and ankles. (You can't be too sure with these alien types - that was Mike's grimacing excuse.)
And shortly - the whole ship rocked with a surge of motion - the otherwise steady transport jolted to port. A moment of darkness was followed by a klaxon's dissonance and red-light emergency power.
They were not confused. The Solos were elated. WIth several liberated key cards, weapons, some spare body armor and their instruments in tow, the Solos waited near an airlock as the Vocorr ship was boarded.
By pirates.
Of course. Space pirates. Picking them up from their transport to a prison planet - for the crime of being musicians.
They could finally believe their eyes when it seemed that the telepath who had given them their instructions was a spacefaring feline. Naturally. What else could she be? The rest of the odd crew of the Galactirock ship were as strange and foreign as the feline, but most of them were willing to accept the humans to their side.
This was not the end of the Solos journey, not by a long shot. After a short time drifting around and rescuing one or two other lonely musicians (mostly before they were captured, fortunately avoiding another encounter with Vocorr) the Solos felt a new calling.
They could do more, if they split up. They needed a way to keep in touch with one another, and one of the Galactirock engineers offered them a small implant which when activated would tap into each Solo's minds. He did not know if there was a range to this effect, but he suspected it wouldn't matter. The Solos were meant to be Together somehow.
So the pirate radio ship let the Solos off at a very queer locale. Near a black hole that seemed to warp space and time itself, there was a set of mined-out asteroids. They had once been connected by long corridors of steel and space plastic, but now were all but ruined. The rocks were rubble, but the steel remained intact. And somehow, there was mostly breathable air around the mining stations.
With this locale as their base, Solo began to stake out their claim on the galaxy's musical empire. They would attract whoever would come - their music transmitted or transported through time and space to all corners of the galaxy by the black hole. To all who needed space and comfort, they would welcome with open arms. To the Vocorr they issued a challenge: meet them head on, or not at all.
The Solos began to rock, one at a time, standing on their rubble piles. Each separated by perhaps millions of miles of rocky space, but all of them tied Together with the technology in their brains.
Solo 1: :Guitar/Strings: :Todd Solo 2: :Vocals/Keyboards: :Sara Corsair Solo 3: :Vocals/Saxophone: :Mike Solo 4: :Percussion/Electronic: :Sara Giovanni Solo 5: :Bass Guitar: :Dave Solo 6: :Electric Guitar: :Jenny Solo 7: :Percussion/Traditional: :Pat Solo 8: :Piano/Keyboards: :Cathy 