Multiverse 4 is now publishing!

First up, Happy Holidays to everyone. I hope you all have a great time. I'm going nutty with various projects. It's crunch time and of course my kitchen sink faucet decided to add to the pressure. I'm going to replace it later this afternoon. :P

I did this by modifying a free steam train from ShareCG. :)

Second, Multiverse 4 is publishing now!
Multiverse 4 has 8 stories, 5 Federation and 3 others. You'll get a look into the Stargate Program, Universal Translator, Wolfpacks in Sigma sector in the present time, and other things.

Here it is on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07MD3L43Z
Here it is on B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1130039027?ean=2940161251591


Happy Holidays everyone!

Tradition preserved!

YES!
  Okay, let me back up. Some of you know I've got a wicked sense of humor from time to time. Well, my sister has been complaining that we've let our traditions slip as time has moved on.
Well, I started one 6 years ago. I trick people, namely her, into wrapping their own gift without them knowing it. (I will also wrap gifts right under someone's nose)
I've gotten dad and both of my nephews. I've gotten my sister twice. I'm good at magical swaps, even having her... well, I can't tell you all my secrets!
   This year I thought I was out of luck, she was mocking me because she'd gotten her gifts delivered to her house and had wrapped them. (usually they come here to keep her nosy crew contained) Well, she'd forgotten that she'd had me order her father-in-law's gift. So, when she came over, I had a package ready to wrap...
...And yeah, she fell for it.

Lol
  The dirty exasperated look she gave me when I showed held up the custom shirts she thought she'd been wrapping and smirked at her was worth it. That and the rolling eyes and chuckles from her son.

Tradition preserved sis! You asked for it!

I'm also known for gag gifts. Last year I had quite a few fun reactions. This year I went all out. I'm shooting for at least:
1 shriek of indignation
1 knee slap laugh
1 thing thrown at me, preferably paper.
1 shriek of "Really?!?"
and 1 or more death threats around the lines of: "I'm gonna kill him. Seriously!"
Bonus if I can get at least 1 phantom neck wringing and grinding teeth. :)

😁😁😁😁

The gag gifts were a hit last year, just about everyone got a kick out of 1 or more of them. I go for zingers that are under $10. The cheaper the better. The looks I had from people at Walmart when they saw the cart load of stuff... it was fun! I hope everyone else is having as much fun shopping as I am. The look of trepidation when someone gets a gift from me is worth it.

  I'm also going all out with print projects this year. Those are getting out of hand, I'm running out of time. And yes, the reindeer project got put on hold. Again.

MV4 Snippet 3

Sitrep:
So, this morning Rea sent me the manuscript back. I added the missing bits and then shot it over to Goodlifeguide for final formatting. Fingers crossed it'll come out before Christmas.

If you are wondering why I haven't been posting, it's because the blog now refuses to change the font color. I have to do it by hand, highlighting sections sometimes 1 character at a time to get them to change to white. That is needless to say, getting old. :P

Anyway, here is a snippet from one of the Federation stories, Universal Translator. It takes place during the early days of the Founding of the Federation.

Universal Translator:

Ss'th'r'th took his ship through the shipping lanes with growing impatience. Bites Hard was a warship; it should not be constrained to invisible lines on a map! But, he was in Federation space.

Erindale, the strange alien name didn't even lend itself to his tongue. And trying to understand the two legs! He shook his head in irritation. He wouldn't even be here if the ambassador, and what an alien concept that was, wished for a ship to be used as transport home for the blood and hunt festivals.

He'd heard that the two legs had fast formidable ships. But when he saw his first Federation warship, he sniffed in disdain. It didn't look that powerful. It was long but small.

Once in orbit he sent off a traditional warrior's greeting. When they didn't respond right away, he immediately switched to his species tradition of firing a low-level volley at the other warship. Purely to test them and prove they were predators and not prey of course.

[|||||]

Ensign Okashi Mizushui was officer of the deck when Calypso received the message from the alien ship. It didn't translate though; he was confused so he considered what to do. Sending out the traditional Federation hail seemed appropriate, but given that it was an alien species, he wasn't certain about that.

He wished it hadn't come in on the graveyard watch. He suppressed a yawn as he tried again to find some sort of entry on what to do. He didn't want to disturb the XO or skipper; they would ream him for doing so. But they'd ream him if he got the response wrong.

He saw the response challenge as a sort of test. He just hated that it was taking so long to figure it out. Calypso's communication's officer and ship's A.I. were also asleep. Therefore, it fell to him to figure it out.

“Sir, should we send them a standard hail back?”

“Damned if I know,” he muttered.

“We don't even know if they were sending their designation, a ritual challenge, or a bloody recipe for leek soup,” the helmsman muttered.

“My money is on the recipe.”

“I don't know. Isn't that a Naga ship? Aren't they like, big time predators? So could it be a ritual challenge? Didn't I hear something about someone or other comparing them to some fictional alien warrior race from Terran mythology? Klingets or something?”

“Klingets?”

“Not the form, the way they behave. Their culture. We had that course on them when they joined up a couple years back.”

“Yeah. I know what you are talking about, and I don't remember it,” the ops rating said with a shake of her head. “Damn it, I keep feeling like it is on the tip of my tongue.”

Ensign Mizushui grumbled and slapped the console in frustration. “I'm not getting anywhere with this, damn it. And I don't remember either. We had sixty-plus alien species in the Xenology course at the academy. It was just one semester,” he said with a scowl of frustration.

“Look up Nagas. Figure out what we're missing. I ran a search and came up empty. I even dumped the recording of their transmission into the computer, and it came back with too many entries,” the ensign stated. “Maybe you'll have better luck with it.”

The sailors looked at each other dubiously. An officer wasn't supposed to admit they didn't know what to do.

“The ship is powering up systems. Weapons are hot!” CIC warned.

“Shit,” the ops rating stated.

“Is she a pirate? I heard they are into piracy! Did we just let a pirate walk into our weapon's envelope?” the helmsman asked, eyes wide.

“Battle stations,” the ensign stated, making the decision. “Comm, call the XO and the captain to the bridge.”

“Aye aye, sir. XO and captain to the bridge, please.” She didn't say what she wanted, for them to hurry.

“What is it?” the captain asked as the XO said she was on her way.

“Their weapons are hot! She's firing!”

“Shields! Return fire! Helm, get us the hell out of here!” the ensign stated, taking the page direct from the manual.

[|||||]

MV4 snippet 2

The following is from A Bootstrap Thanksgiving:

Janet was a bit surprised when the trio of teenage boys came up to her with a wild plan. It started with wanting to do something other than cook the usual turkey in the usual way. Not that she didn't do multiple animals on Thanksgiving, it was just they wanted something different.

She wasn't surprised, she heard it every year from someone. Usually they had an idea but didn't want to put their money where their mouth was. She was only a little defensive about the whole project.

"You are saying you are going to do this. You lot," she said. The boys looked at each other.

"Well, yeah, if that's what it takes," Tucker Chambers, the apparently leader said.

"And you want to do... what? Spit roast a carcass or two your way?" she demanded.

"Um, no. We heard some things about frying birds. And we want to scale it up," Tucker said. He looked to his two friends but both just nodded. No help there. "We want to fry a dinosaur," he said, plunging into the idea full steam. In for a penny in for a pound as his mother occasionally said.

Janet stared at him. "Fried? Are you serious? Fried?" she demanded, aghast at what Tucker was proposing. She looked from 1 male to the other 2. All 3 teens grinned at her and nodded enthusiastically.

Spare me, she thought in annoyance.

"Yes fried." Tucker answered. "It was a big thing back in the states, or so mom and dad said. It is some of the best bird you've ever tasted. We want to do it."

"Yeah, except your mom will complain about clanging arteries!" Alejandro snorted. Alejandro Cortez was the third in their trio and the best mechanic of the group.

"It's one meal! We're not talking about making it a weekly thing," Tucker said.

Like that could happen, Janet thought with a mental snort.

"True."

"Ho boy though, that's a lot of oil!" -Noah said, whistling at the logistics as they began to sink in. He was good at logistics but he preferred hunting or engineering. "Finding a pot big enough...we'd probably have to make one. And the burners..." he shook his head but he could the list forming in his mind and realized they were on top of the challenge.

"Oil hell, we'll need a crane to get the bloody thing in and out," Janet said with a shake of her head. "No way you are doing this indoors."

"We've got snow coming in at any time during that month," Noah pointed out, dismayed at the idea of doing the project outside.

"Then you better think of something. You want to use flamable oil remember? That's not something you play with indoors in that sort of quantity. Not if you don't want to burn the entire base down."

"Oh," Noah said, making a face as realization dawned that flaming oil indoors in that quantity wasn't a good idea. "Point," he said, relenting.

"Are you serious? We'd freeze our nuts off!" Alejandro protested.

"Better bundle up," Janet said, grinning maliciously. He turned and opened his mouth to her but she shook a wooden spoon at him. "And before you say it, no. This is your bright ass idea, your project. You figure it out. I'm going to be busy ruling the kitchen and dealing with everything else."

"Oh frack," the mechanic muttered. "We're so screwed," he said, shooting a look at Tucker.

"The only way we'd need a crane is if we did something really big. Like say, a T-rex and we're not doing that," Tucker said with a shake of his head.

"Ah..."

"No. First, there is no breast meat. Mostly dark meat," Tucker said. He'd done his homework in that regard.

"Yeah, but think of the drumbsticks!" Alejandro said, rubbing his hands together and smacking his lips for emphasis.

Janet snorted, envisioning a Flintstones cartoon moment.

"Yeah, and my answer is still no. I think we need to try this small and scale up," Tucker said. "We've done that before."

"Point," Noah said, piling on. "We don't even know what it'll taste like."

"True. Turkey was all breast. We need to find a dino that has a lot of breast," Tucker agreed.

"Therapod obviously. But..." Alejandro wrinkled his nose in thought.

"It's like he's looking through a mental cook's catalog," Noah chuckled.

"Maybe. This might catch on if we do it right," Tucker said, cocking his head. Small businesses had begun to start up in the communities.

"What, Kentucky Fried Dino?" Noah asked with a laugh.

"If it works, why not? It worked for the Flintstones didn't it?" Janet said with a grin.

"Um... Flintstones?" The boys asked, turning to her in confusion.

"Fictional cave men," she explained, immediately regretting the reference since she had dated herself.

"Okay, if you say so," Alejandro said dubiously.

"God I feel old. Okay, so are you really going to do this...?" Janet asked.

"Yeah," Tucker said, still a bit eager. He looked to his friends. Their enthusiasm had been dampered a bit as reality of the project had started to kick in but they seemed game. Especially since they were expected to do it.

It meant they could prove themselves. They turned to each other and started to list what they'd need.

"Ahem before you boys get too far ahead of yourselves..."Janet said.

"Yes?"

"Speaking of scaling up, you can cut up the large dino carcass and fry the parts individually,"she suggested. The boys blinked. Janet scowled, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. "I know, I know. You want the whole bird. Dino, bird, whatever. You can always reassemble on the other side, geesh! This way you can fry the parts right. Some meat cooks faster than others."

Tucker turned to the other boys. "She has a point."

"She is the expert," Noah agreed with a nod.

"Thanks," she said dryly. She didn't mention any ideas like breading or anything like that. Let them figure it out.

Air frying might be the better route but she decided to let them learn on their own.

"Okay. Let's see if we can do this."

"If we do this, and big if, you boys cook it, safety first, but you also get to clean up after it. No playing the usual cook and then leave the real work to others. You are in it from beginning to end, and I do mean end," Janet said, shaking her spoon at them for emphasis.

That took a little bit of the fun out of it. The teens looked at each other and then shrugged.

"We need to round up the oil first. And a pot, and the means to heat it," Noah said.

"True. I don't suppose the veggie oil we're producing for the vehicles will work?" Alejandro asked.

Noah made a face. He knew chemistry a lot better than Alejandro did. "It's rough. We filter it but not for food applications. Let me look into that," he said.

Tucker nodded. "Good. I'll go over the dinos. Therapods obviously as you said," he said. "With as much breast meat as we can get. Huh... I wish the memes hadn't locked their genes."

"What? Why?"

"Breeding," Janet answered for Tucker. The young man nodded. "If we could breed them we'd selectively breed for animals that had big breasts."

"What is it with men and breast fetishes?" Aimee Fenn demanded, coming into the conversation midway through.

"It's not... oh never mind. I'll fill you in later," Tucker said testily as the young men grinned and chuckled. "Boys!" she said, poking the nearest into mock cringing away from her. "Oh will you lot quit!" she sighed in exasperation as Janet ushered them out.

"Go check with your dad and get final permission from him," Janet urged. Tucker nodded.

"For what? Oh, never mind, I just wanted to let you three know class got canceled for the afternoon," Aimee said. "We have to work on that project though, it's due next week."

"Later. We've got another one to work on now," Noah said firmly.

"Right. Shall we see my dad?" Tucker asked.

"Now?"

"No time like the present," Tucker said with a shrug.

"What if he's busy?"

"He always is. But he makes time for family," Tucker said with a wave good bye to Janet and Aimee. "Later ladies," he said as he led his buddies off.

(((^)))

Multiverse 4

Sitrep: I sent MV4 to Rea yesterday afternoon.
I'm getting into the spirit of the season with decorating, shopping, and printing gifts. (and sanding, priming, and painting them) Not so much with wrapping though, ugh.

   Anyway, MV4 has 8 stories. 1 Fantasy, 1 Sci-Fi, 1 in the Boostrap universe, 1 in the Founding of the Federation time period, 1 just prior to Ragnarok, and 3 stories in the Engineer time period.
Each was fun to write. I tried to stretch myself a bit in a couple of them.

I'm going to post snippets from each of the stories up until it is ready to publish. Here is the first, from the "Flying White Whale"

In port

 

Ishmael watched the morning fleet go out. There were several, the closest in were the small trap ships. They flew small ships that stayed close to the mountains. They'd sometimes go deeper in order to try their luck with their traps.

Usually though they'd stick to the line and lower lines of traps. They'd set traps out and then go out in the evening or the following morning weather permitting to bring them in and reset them.

The wood traps that were set out were of different designs. Some were square, some hoops of different sizes and designs, some made as a ball. The commercial trappers stuck to the square rigs in order to load as many traps on their ship as they can. His aunt had been a trap maker, using her nimble fingers to weave the traps for years before the knuckle disease got to her.

Trappers caught a variety of creatures including some scuttlers on the mountains. The scuttlers had shells, long spindly legs and antenna, and claws. They were good eating, especially cooked with butter. He licked his lips a little in memory of the tasty flesh.

Nothing the trappers caught was wasted. He watched as a trap was cleaned. The plant matter, everything was stuck in a bucket for later sorting and use. Occasionally they lost a trap for a variety of reasons. Sometimes an entire string if a line snapped or a buoyancy bag left out popped. He knew some trappers who tried to kill some of the bats and birds who liked to roost on the buoyancy bags and inadvertently popped them with their claws.

Further out were the trawlers and fishing vessels. The trawlers ran nets out to catch animals in the depths. The fishing vessels ran fishing lines out and tried for the small but big score. He'd run one season on a cousin's fishing vessel the Kahuna. It had been long boring hours of nothing then frantic activity with a lot of yelling and screaming. They'd barely broke even.

The rarest ships were the ones he was after. The air whalers and other ships. Those were the true heart and soul of every community. Without buoyancy tapped from the air whales none of their airships would fly.

}==@

Captain Yanus scowled as he read the morning log. So, they were going to do it. The family that owned his ship had taken his request for 6 new hands and had turned it into just 1. Just 1 lad but supposedly experienced. He shook his head. Always the bottom line with them! They thought of the food 6 bellies would eat, the water, grog, and pay, can't forget that! It was all numbers. They didn't have to deal with being short handed.

He inhaled and exhaled, nostrils flaring. He'd make due, he always did. But if it didn't work out he'd be quick to point out the fault and damn the consequences.

He looked out over the morning gloom. He couldn't quite mate out the tall harbor wall in the distance. It was made out of stone but the arch at the top was made out of wood and stout canvas. Occasionally it rippled in the wind outside the harbor walls.

Despite the shelter of the harbor walls the ship drifted ever so slightly. The bumpers protected ship and pier alike. He instinctively checked the lines, all good there. He gave a nod. They would continue loading then.

He was curious if the lad would show early. If he knew what was best for him he wouldn't. And heaven help the owners if the lad didn't show! He shook his head.

A part of this was his fault. They'd torn too many sails in the last run due to storm damage. Mending had only gotten them so far. He'd insisted on new lines and sail cloth and that was expensive. They'd whined to Tesco for days. This had been the compromise.

He exhaled noisily. Always the bottom line. They had no clue that a ship needed lines that hadn't been mended and lost their slack. They needed sails that didn't have rips in them. He shook his head. Sometimes he wondered why he didn't retire.

And then his eyes turned to the painting on his cabin wall. The painting his predecessor had commissioned of sporting sky whales in the light. The thrill. The thrill of the hunt.

Soon, soon it would be upon them once more.

}==@

In the predawn gloom Ishmael took his usual tour of the town. He was tall and a bit gangly but quick and deft along the streets. He rarely tripped or slipped on the stones and bricks that made up the streets.

He had a reputation as a schemer, always looking for the next fix. He was always willing to throw his light weight behind a project or task he'd been given though. He just never stayed in 1 task for long.

He had long fingers that were quite good at whatever task he was given. He could carve wood, work in the dairy, or do any number of odd jobs. He had the right kind of calluses for any sort of work he could find. He was always careful to stay on the good side of the law.

He had short curly red hair and freckles to go with his green eyes. The girls liked him but he wasn't the marrying type. Many saw him as a sailor. He saw himself as a sailor, one who had hopefully found the ship of his true calling. He hit the port first as he always did. He loved to see the ship's shove off and could be counted on to throw a line or two to help a crew shove off.

Most of the morning fleet was already on the horizon near the harbor exit. The few remaining airships in port were sitting there adrift in what winds got over the harbor walls or through the gate. He saw the giant whaler taking on stores. She was a beaut, dark and mysterious. He paused to admire her for a long moment.

She was full rigged, with masts top and bottom. Just the one mast on the keel. She had spine like spars on her flanks fore and aft but they didn't look like they were used often. There was little rigging on them at any rate. The ship was clean and neat, without flaking paint or slack lines showing neglect. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, drinking the air in.

He'd been plumb lucky getting a berth on her. It had taken quite a bit of doing and luck on his part. He was eager to prove himself and tempted to go over to the ship. But instead he slowed his pace a bit.

Casks, crates, and nets were piled along the narrow wharf to the ship. That was all heavy back breaking work, something he wasn't too keen about lending a hand to. Not on his last day of freedom. It wasn't likely he'd get fed or paid for his labor. He saw a mate stop and turn to look at him. He waved and then went about his business. He had another night to complete his preparations before he was to report on board by midnight to sail with the morrow's tide.

Instead he turned to the industrial section of the town. The industrial section was divided into streets and blocks. The industries that had the highest stinks were on the outskirts of town. Some were dangerous, with chemicals and such.

Along the third lower section of town close to the tree line was the lumber mill and wood worker's row. Dowdall was there, the carver could always be counted on to feed him in exchange for work sweeping shavings or such.

Dowdall was one of the best, a carpenter as well as a shipwright like Perth. He had a way about him with wood that left Ishmael in awe. He freely admitted he was hack handed, something he never lived down to his family.

He'd heard the cutters had brought in a couple quality logs that were being turned and stripped to make plywood. The carpenters were doing some new stuff, making I beams from the wood as well as lattices. Everything had to be light and strong if it was in an airship.

It wasn't that he was completely out of money. Well, he was down to his last pence but that wasn't it. It was a matter of pride to scrounge for his meals and save his money. He had hoped to have enough for his rent, he rented a small room from his sister and brother-in-law but he didn't have it. And the skipper said he couldn't get his sign on bonus until he was actually on board.

Which meant he couldn't spend it beforehand and jump ship. Smart.

He could go check out the clothing district. The far end was to be avoided though, that stank of dies and such. On the other side of the street they had the ink, paper, glue, and paint makers. The leather crafter's were a good source of work for food but he'd cut his hand there the last time and he'd gotten a tongue lashing for bleeding on the goods. He shook his head. No, it was best to stick to smith row.

He looked up to the giant balloons hovering overhead. They had lines running down to stone anchor points. Each of those balloons held excess buoyancy gas for the fleet. He'd done a tour cleaning a few and wanted no part of it.

Smith row it was.

He walked through the sleepy market. Most of the patrons were still abed. Even the pets and animals for sale were asleep in their cages.

Nothing was wasted in the communities and even on board ship. Waste not want not, and for good reason. Much of what they had didn't come cheap or easily. Even garbage was fed to the animals or composted for the gardens.

At the far end of smith row, beyond the hostelries and such was an old workshop. The building was quite big and old. Gregor was brilliant but odd. And Silvina... she could be counted on for work for food though he didn't want to get stuck with a morning crowd. She'd grab him all day and he wanted to enjoy his last day on land.

No, his best bet was to see the tinker. He brightened up instantly. He hadn't seen Gregor in nearly a month. He glanced at the rising sun. If he timed it right... his pace picked up from the stroll to a fast walk, trot and then a full lope. If he could time it right he could get to Silvina's before Abuna showed up to take the morning platter to the tinker. He had to hurry though if he was going to make breakfast.

}==@

Kai's Story is publishing... now!

I received the manuscript back from Goodlifeguide.com Friday morning but I didn't check my mail until yesterday. (It has been hectic)

Two and a half decades after the Xeno war was last fought in the Tau sector, many of the surviving star systems were on the verge of economic and social collapse. With the loss of contact with the core worlds and central government, civilization was ebbing and dying. Piracy was thriving.

Kai, a young bull spacer was trying to ekk out a living in his home star system of Minox IV. Circumstances have something else in mind than a subsistance living as Kai puts himself on the path of greatness.

Realizing that no one was going to come to the rescue, and the current local government was corrupt, Kai gathers a band of friends and followers to take the reins of power and build a Tauren Confederation from the ashes of the old Federation.

This is his story

I will post the links when they become available. Until then I'm off to go put Christmas lights up!

Here it is on Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07KVNBPRZ

And B&N:
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/kais-story-chris-hechtl/1129939010?ean=2940161724101

Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving for those of you out there who celebrate it.

Sitrep: Goodlifeguide let me know they are going on vacation Sunday and they'd get Kai's Story back to me next week. That sorta bummed me out.

I'll get back to the snippets later this weekend. Hopefully. Once the fudge and turkey is digested. :)

I hope everyone had a great day!

Kai's Story Snippet 4

Sitrep:

Still puttering around with the graphic novel. I am experimenting with grass and render settings now.

I also just received Kai's Story back from Rea. I'll be going through it, adding the final bits and then sending it off to Goodlifeguide sometime today or tomorrow.

On to the snippet!

Still in chapter 3:

Twinkle Hooves felt the fear, no, smelled it as she tried to figure out what to do. Tried and failed she thought for the umpteenth time. She tugged on a long ear then winced when she accidentally hit her earring.

The brothel was in the rock and therefore lacked an independent life support system. Her pimp had one in his inner sanctum but the bastard had disappeared within with one of the girls he favored. It was locked from the inside, with all the equipment including a small generator inside too.

She cursed him but then got the others out to figure something else out.

She was surprised that the other girls took direction from her. Then she realized they were so scared they'd take direction from anyone who showed an inkling of having a plan to get out of the mess they were in. She was just shooting for one more day. At the moment that was all that counted, one more day. Give them that.

In the main concourse panic ruled. When some of the leadership had fled many of the residents had stampeded for locks. Not that it had done them any good; there weren't any ships worth using. Those that were had been locked down or were low on fuel or range. Their owners took some people with them as they left but not many.

Too many, all too many were left behind. In desperation she turned to Kuatha. She found him in his shop. No surprise there. And she wasn't surprised that he had worked out a crude life support system out of parts. “How long will it last?”

“Not long on just batteries. Definitely not long with the people we've got here,” he said, looking at the herd around them. “Did you have to bring everyone?”

“More hands. Tell us what we need to do. We'll help.”

“It's more than that. We need help to get power into the rock. Or someone needs to go outside and figure out what is wrong and fix it.”

“Outside? In the storm?”

“It is most likely a one way trip I know.”

“Can't you... I don't know; cobble a robot together to do the job?”

“We had several. Operative word, had. They are fried. Anything we try to cobble together won't have shields to be able to handle the storm. And have you ever tried to make repairs remotely?” the mechanic demanded. She shook her head. He snorted. “Well trust me, I have. It's no picnic with a bot built to do the job let alone something I can cobble together out of this mess,” he said, indicating his cluttered workshop.

“So we're screwed?”

“Not necessarily. We'll keep trying to do what we can. Molly got a mayday off. Right now we just need to wait the storm out and hope help will arrive in time.”

“Great. Who will help us?”

}^{

Kai found himself trying to rally the tug pilots and nearest mines to the plight of the rock. Trying and failing he noted as some signed off after saying the rock was on its own.

“What do we do?” Mel asked.

“What we can,” Kai said.

“We can't evacuate them. You know that, right?”

“I know. But Kuatha is there. A lot of our friends are there. We have to do something. Save whom we can,” Kai said almost desperately as he shed the material he'd tacked onto the tug for additional protection. His Geiger counter started to climb but he ignored it. He had other concerns at the moment.

He warmed up the ship's drive and then set a course for the rock.

“Who will pay for it?” Mahisha asked.

Kai grimaced. Good question, he was headed to the rock with little in the way of mined material. He was also going to burn through a lot of fuel, not to mention rads. “Worry about that later. If we don't do something a lot of people will die.”

“Not to mention we'll have one less place to base our operations out of.”

“They better give us free drinks for life for this shit,” Mel grumbled.

}^{

Kuatha and Twinkle Hooves did their best to rally the people within the dark and dying habitat. Twinkle Hooves nipped out to gather resources that Kuatha said he needed. Sometimes that meant going perilously close to the hull and risking doses of radiation.

Along the way she found out that several people had died or evacuated. Old Toby the Barber as well as the mayor died when their independent life supports failed. Constable Jones and the old assayer Piemur had tried to flee but they died when their escape pod failed. They'd failed to maintain it and it had been used as a source of parts too often.

No one was in charge which was both good and bad. She had no one to get in her way and tell her she couldn't take things or do things that were necessary. But it meant people were running around like headless chickens which was a problem all in itself. It seemed like it was everyone for herself.

}^{

To Kai's surprise and dismay, not many of the tug pilots stepped up. Resentment was deep for the port fees and costs of services and gear the stationer's charged. One other icon appeared on his HUD after he'd set course. A quick interrogation of the computer told him it was Mel. Trust Mel to come in behind him if only to save the damn beer he thought with a snort.

It took precious hours for Kai to dock with the station. Mel was only a few minutes behind. Once they docked they were quickly swarmed at the lock by panicked people wanting off the rock. Kai ordered the people back. “Kai, damn good to see you,” a familiar voice said. He looked over to see Kuatha and some of the employees of the brothel, Twinkle Hooves among them.

“What can we do Kuatha?” Kai asked. When in doubt ask the expert. “How can we get the life support going? There is no way my tug can get these people off. I've got enough life support for me and maybe one person, but not enough to go far. I drained my life support waiting out the storm.”

“Has it passed?” Twinkle Hooves asked.

“Yes. But everything has been dosed with radiation so watch it,” Kai warned.

“Well, that's a relief,” Kuatha said as Mel joined them. “I kludged together what I could with some assistance. But we need power. I was about to go out and check the solar panels.”

“Power we can arrange. We'll need fuel,” Kai stated, looking around for the mayor or someone to step up.

“That we can do,” Kuatha said. “Once you've got power, run your life support but leave the lock open. It won't do much but it'll keep people around here alive.”

Kai hesitated but then nodded. Kuatha was right, the life support wouldn't do much but it would help a little. For morale at the least. “Roger that,” Kai said, looking over to Mel. Mel nodded.

“We'll need to get power lines to the ship,” Kuatha said. He pointed to several people. “You lot, unplug the lines going to this lock and the others. Kai, plug them in to your ship so it will act as a power source. I'll rewire the other end.”

“Gotcha,” Kai said, getting to work. He made sure to lock his computer down though so no one could hot wire his tug and take off with it.

Using the tugs to provide temporary power to the rock allowed them to get some of the deeper life support modules back up and running. It wasn't enough though. In order to get the rest of the life support going, as well as the reactor and other equipment they needed to do some major maintenance.

“We need parts,” Kuatha said tiredly. He felt like he'd done a complete tug tear down and rebuild. He was getting too old for this shit.

“Where?” someone asked. “How?”

“There are some in Kali's spare warehouses. He left so he won't be needing it anymore,” Twinkle Hooves suggested.

All eyes turned to Kai. He nodded, giving them tactical permission. “Start there. Then hit the others. We'll get this rock back up and worry about the bill later.”

There was a lot of grim agreement over that statement.

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Kai"s Story Snippet 3

Okay...

Chapter 3

 

Krynn noted the uptick in solar activity which was indicative of a storm. He sent orders to what hardware he controlled in order to conserve what he could. He also broadcast the order to the public on the emergency channel, heedless of the Governor's edict on not wasting power. Then he waited for the worse.

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The spacers were used to solar storms that threatened their existence. They received the occasional warning but the extreme measures the A.I. had gone through to get the warning across told many it was serious. Those that were smart took precautions and sheltered right away.

Some of the homeless streamed to the rock, headless of the danger. The additional people along with the mass of their ships and gear taxed the life support systems.

When the storm hit, the solar wind hit with a ferocity of a planetary category 5 hurricane. Streams of electrons overloaded the small fusion reactor as well as electronics that hadn't been properly shielded. Equipment outside was irradiated into junk.

Radiation and electrons overloaded the wiring to the solar panels as well. It sparked, arcing energy and damaging servos as well as the elderly panels.

The people within the rock sheltered, either in special inner shelters or within the depths of the mined out rock itself. Some of the patrons of the bar drank themselves into passing out in place. When the lights began to dim on the second day and a warning got out that the power was going out panic began to set in.

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Molly got off a mayday, risking her remaining power reserves before she reluctantly turned her transmitter off. She then focused on her own survival.

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The Trader Kali pulled his family and business out when he found out the station habitat was dead.

 Kuatha came to him for support but the human just shook his head as he closed the hatch. “I've got to look after my own.”

Kuatha took a step back as the inner hatch closed. He cursed silently and watched as Kali disconnected. Alarms would have normally gone off but there wasn't so much as a squeak.

Kali's massive module was independent of the station rock complex. It also had layers of lead and a water jacket in its outer hull so the components and people within were shielded. By shutting the airlocks and using a tug Kali was able to pull the module out and then move on to a better place to do business.

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The massive solar storm lasted for nearly a week. The habitat lost power. No one could venture out to find out why or route around the problem. Slowly the lights faded and the fans shut down as the batteries were drained.

Twinkle Hooves wasn't the only one near panic. She just couldn't panic herself; others were doing a fine job for her. Besides, there was no point.

The habitat, her only home was dying around her with her in it. She took refuge in the brothel, doing her best to scrounge batteries and life support but she knew it was most likely not going to be enough.

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Kai listened to the news from the radio net as he waited out the storm. He hadn't had much warning but he'd managed to turn the rock he'd been mining to face the sun. A bit of judicious digging and tacking bags of his slag to the outside of his tug in the frantic minutes before the storm had hit had allowed him to hunker down and shelter in place for the duration of the storm.

He'd spent his time conserving power and listening to the radio. Molly's channel was down, a sure sign it was bad, real bad. Everyone who was talking seemed worried, but no one had a plan. They were wringing their hands virtually.

There was nothing mentioned about a rescue mission from the government, just thoughts and prayers for the people on the rock.

Something had to be done. Something soon.

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Kai's Story Snippet 2

Sitrep: Still experimenting with the graphic novel.
I tried a few experiments. I'm running them past a few friends and eventually the betas before I post them here.

On to the Snippet:

Chapter 2
The Planet

 

Krynn noted the fluctuations in his weather prediction simulations models. Unfortunately, he didn't have the ability to tighten them up; there were too many variables at play and too little sources of data for him. His processors and memory were also sharply limited.

The administration liked to base past performance off the almanac. That was not an effective predictive model for him. But, Governor Baine insisted. And, what the governor insisted on he usually got. Within reason at least.

Minox IV was barely scraping by, with a neutral trade balance with other star systems. That was good; no independent freighter would come to them if they couldn't offer goods worth trading. But, it was bad in that they weren't getting out of the hole they seemed to have found themselves in.

And every year they just found a way to dig it deeper.

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Tagar read the files and sighed. Minox IV was ripe for change, he knew that. But there were no proper candidates to challenge the establishment. He'd also seen and heard rumors that Governor Baine could fight dirty.

He really needed to figure something out soon or find another profession. Or hell, another planet to work on he thought in annoyance. Not that he had the credits to ship out. No one did at the moment.

His homeworld had been spared the ravages of the Xeno war. But despite not seeing a single Xeno ship that didn't mean they'd gotten off Scot free. The economy had collapsed when they'd lost contact with the rest of the Federation. What was left was limping along in a shambles, a shadow of its former self.

Without leadership and banking from the Federation the natives had been forced to their own devices. The corporate factories and businesses had dried up. They'd been swamped with refugees for years.

Minox had a nice planet with a 1.1 standard gravity field. A couple of small moons, and nice land. He knew his species preferred fields and meadows but he actually didn't mind the look of the mountains and seas. The seas sparkled quite nicely in the evenings.

They had a gas giant with an automated gas refinery supplying fuel to the few remaining space habitats and stations as well as the planet.

He didn't know what the population was, somewhere north of 100 million some had said, though starvation and disease were serious problems for the destitute living on the fringes of the cities and towns. They'd taken over some areas almost completely.

They needed a change. They needed a catalyst to kick things into gear and break the grip of the current administration. Baine's government was willing to suck every last credit out of the government and economy and ride it down in flames in the process. He just couldn't figure out a way to stop them.

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The Rock

 

“Hey Kai, you look like you need a trim! Come on in, your seat is waiting,” a familiar voice called from the concourse a half hour later.

Kai turned and waved to the barber. “Not today Toby, I've got a meeting to attend,” he said with a smile.

“Ah. Another pub round. Gotcha,” the barber said with a wave back as he went back to sweeping.

Kai snorted and kept going. There were some good people on the station. Many were nice but you had to watch your filings. Miners were constantly taken advantage of by the people that supported them. It was a constant source of bitching for all miners.

Instinctively he ran a hand over his horns. He had the usual four, two big ones up top and two lower ones. A Tauren barber used different tools to shape a subject's horns, hooves, and spikes to what the subject wanted. They could even do alterations and engravings on his shell. He had a few. But like all Tauren spacers he kept his horns and such trimmed short. They had to be short so they wouldn't puncture his suit.

A barber like old Toby used a cauterizer to trim and cut the thick carateen material. The hot knife did fast work. Final touch up was done with a rasp file or fine scalpel knife. He'd learned to do his own work when funds were running short.

His hand dropped to his face and chin. He didn't grow a beard, again body hair tended to get in the way. Some did though. They'd braid it or whatever. He'd considered it from time to time.

Sometimes he considered changing his name. His mother had named him after a video character. It wasn't until he was much older that he learned that the character was a fictional character from Terra, and had been the villain in the movie! When he'd confronted his mother she'd shrugged and explained that before his father had left for the war he'd asked that he be named for a bad guy. “It's not the name that matters. I think your father wanted to toughen you up without being there.”

He'd grumbled but kept the name to himself. He did like that the first part, Kai meant king. He'd kept that part and he'd never told his friends the meaning of his name.

He heard some clucking and turned to look at some chickens hanging from cages. They occasionally tried to stick their necks out to grab at some of the food around them. Tried and failed. He winced when one of the chickens pooped a stream of white on a piece of fruit. The female cleaned the fruit off, saving the poop for recycling since it was high in nitrogen but then put the fruit back.

He shook his head and moved on.

The rat and lizard jerky was tempting, as was the lizard boots. But he had boots. He went over to another stall and sniffed at the guinea pig on the grill. Guinea pig and rat were common meat for spacers. He decided to treat himself to a burger since he would need some food in his stomach to prepare himself for the drinking that would come later.

Just about every spacer had or knew someone who had a still. Recipes were common. Some could make you blind. He and his set preferred beer despite the added expense it entailed. That added expense made it all the sweeter but it also made their meetings few and far between sometimes.

Yeast was grown in space but grains not so much. You could make beer from other things but he preferred the real thing. He finished off his burger, dusted his fingers and then moved on to the pub.

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