Written by Bri Wylde
KALE is a work of fan fiction detailing the lore behind the proof of teamwork Stellar Asset KALE. View the project on GitHub to learn more and to get started farming your own KALE!
Hazel, Roscoe, Aila, and the world’s leaders huddled around the war room table in Earth’s primary space technology office as they finalized their plan. Hazel reached into the pocket of her lab coat for the thousandth time and pulled out her GPS device.
“Alright, he’s only thirty minutes out and heading straight for us,” she said, glancing at the group. “Let’s get into position. Everyone clear on the strategy?”
The others nodded in unison before breaking away to take their respective posts.
Aila matched Hazel’s brisk pace as they approached the door to the landing pad. “Remember, Hazel, the whole plan hinges on you keeping him distracted with your sparkling conversation,” she said.
Hazel pushed the door open and stepped outside, glancing back with a grin. “Relax, they don’t call me Hazel Sparkling Conversation for nothing.”
“Nobody calls you that,” Aila replied flatly before pulling her friend into a bear hug and heading inside to her observation post.
Roscoe sauntered over to Hazel. “Well, darlin’,” he said. “Good luck out there. Don’t go doin’ anything to get yourself killed now.”
“You too, Sheriff,” Hazel replied. “Hope that shooting arm is feeling lucky today.”
Roscoe chuckled. “Luck’s got nothin’ to do with it. You’re lookin’ at the best shot in the galaxy. Pure unadulterated skill right here.”
“Then, we’re lucky to have you,” Hazel said, giving his arm a quick squeeze and sending him to his hiding spot behind a crate.
Once in position, Hazel activated her microphone and earpiece. “Testing, testing,” she said.
“Loud and clear,” Roscoe answered.
“I’m here,” Aila chimed in.
Hamish’s voice crackled through. “I can’t believe you guys are just leaving me behind. Again,” he grumbled.
Hazel heard Aila’s exasperated sigh. “Hamish, you’ve already done enough. Now, stay put, stay safe, and for the love of Kale, don’t do anything stupid!”
A low rumble echoed from above, signifying Zebulon’s imminent arrival. Hazel watched as The Zebulon transformed from a dark speck in the sky to a towering purple and black behemoth as it descended toward Earth.
“Here we go,” Hazel spoke into the microphone. The Zebulon landed heavily, and Hazel braced herself for the showdown that would decide the fate of the universe.
She waited.
And waited.
“What’s taking so long?” Hazel muttered.
“Reckon he’s hopin’ to make a grand entrance and is disappointed by the lack of audience,” Roscoe murmured back.
At last, The Zebulon’s door hissed open in a billow of purple and black smoke that spilled out onto the ground. A cascade of sparkles erupted from the ship’s depths, along with the thunderous beat of war drums. Through the thick haze, Hazel discerned the large, angular figure of Zebulon descending down the ramp, his army of soldiers fanning out behind him.
“Earthlings!” Zebulon thundered. “I have come to claim your planet’s Corium! And there’s nothing you can do to stop me!” He thrust his hand skyward, shaking it menacingly as a dark chuckle rippled through his army.
It was now or never.
Hazel ducked out from where she stood underneath an awning and walked toward Zebulon.
“Hello, Mister Zebulon, sir,” she called across the landing pad, raising her hands to show she was unarmed.
“Who are you?” Zebulon bellowed.
“My name is Hazel! I work with Dr. Fred on the Corium and Kale experiments! I got a message from my colleague, Perry, and he said you were using the experiments to do good. So I’d like to personally hand over Earth’s Corium reserves, if you’ll follow me.” Hazel gestured behind her, where a massive tower of canisters labeled “Corium” was stacked next to the crate Roscoe was hidden behind.
Zebulon signaled his army to hold their position as he strode after the scientist. Hazel’s steps faltered as she noticed the canisters teetering ominously. She tossed a strained grin over her shoulder to mask her hesitation and pressed on.
The canisters wobbled again as she approached, and suddenly, the entire stack toppled, crashing to the ground and clattering across the landing pad with a hollow, metallic clang — evidence that they were, in fact, empty.
From the wreckage, a sheepish Hamish emerged, his eyes wide and guilty. “Uh, sorry about that, just wanted a better view,” he muttered, shrinking under Hazel’s glare.
“These canisters are empty!” Zebulon roared. “You dare to deceive me, the most powerful robot-alien-man in the universe?” He raised his arm upward, and a beam of glowing green light erupted from his fingertips, surrounding Hazel, freezing her in place and lifting her off the ground.
“Gol dang it, I can’t blast this guy when he’s got Hazel like that!” Roscoe’s panicked voice sounded through the earpiece.
Hamish, overwhelmed with desperation, groped behind him for anything that might help. His fingers closed over a solid object, and he hurled it at Zebulon without hesitation. But instead of the sound of stone against metal, a high-pitched squeak pierced the air. He hadn’t thrown a rock; he’d thrown a mouse!
Zebulon let out a shrill shriek, dropping Hazel unceremoniously to the ground. Not one to miss an opportunity, Sheriff Roscoe sprang from his hiding place, The Wharp-a-Zoom Whooshinator XL 5000 in hand. He fired the weapon and blasted Zebulon into space in a blinding burst of orange light.
Roscoe gave the ray gun a quick twirl, blew across the muzzle, and holstered it before hurrying over to check on Hazel, who was slowly getting to her feet.
He helped her up, gently draping her arm over his shoulders for support. “We did it,” she croaked, her face lighting up with a bright smile.
“That we did, darlin’,” he answered.
With their leader hurtling through space, Zebulon’s army scurried back onto their ship in retreat. Moments later, the vessel lifted off, disappearing into the sky amid cheers from Hazel’s crew.
Aila burst out of the building, tears streaming down her cheeks. “We did it! We saved the universe from Zebulon!” she cried, throwing her arms around Hazel and Roscoe.
Hamish moseyed over to the group, and Roscoe gave his hair a ruffle. “Hamish, how can a fella manage to both ruin the day and save it in under two minutes?”
Hamish shook his head, face flushed.
“Hamish,” Hazel said with a laugh. “You’re banned from leaving the Kale fields ever again!” She turned toward the rest of the group. “Now, let’s go pick up Dr. Fred and head home. There’s still universal hunger to solve, and the Kale isn’t going to harvest itself!”
The four friends trouped their way back to the space station, their laughter echoing as they prepared for the journey back to Demeter, where new adventures surely awaited.
The End of Book 1 of Kale: The Lore