Ashes is Publishing NOW!

 Ashes, Tales of Ragnarok 2 is publishing now.

"Ashes, Ashes we all fall down!"

The Federation is being torn apart by the invading Xenos. In the chaos some events unfold that have a resonating effect throughout the ages. Here are those stories.

 

For those of you who don't know, Ashes is a series of short stories, many of which will have far reaching impacts into the future... up to and beyond the current timeline. :) 

I'll post the links when they go live. Wow! For the first time B&N went live first!

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08X6QFYVL

B&N:https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/ashes-chris-hechtl/1138878824?ean=2940162422266

Ashes Snippet 4

 So, still plodding away with the video rendering, stealing time to render here and there. (30 minutes on the potty for 5 frames? Sure, why not?)

Anway, I have a problem to work out but otherwise, still rendering. Fun. I'm also still blocking Searching for a Needle and The Long Road Home. Also fun.

 

Oh, and Happy Birthday Jory!

 

On to the snippet!

Malice

 

Cast:

Sedrick Ramichov

Katya Ramichov: Wife of Sedrick.

Illya Ramichov: Six-year-old son of Katya and Sedrick.

Admiral Theodore Rico

Odette Tucket

Javier Jaberwoky: Family owns most of refineries.

Captain Ken Knowles "KK"

Valerian Pushkin

Hazel Takao

Midshipman Razer Ishmael

 

Horath

 

Sedrick smiled to himself as he looked out to the night sky and then up. He could just make out the faint glitter of the orbital warehouse. Beyond that he could imagine the glitter of the repair slip under construction. This was their time to shine.

His eyes fell to the city lights below and beyond. They spread out beyond to the curve of the planet. It was pretty, but he wanted more. Horath had always kept quiet. Now that was going to change … in time.

The reports had come in; the Federation was in full collapse. There was effectively no central government and no military. No law enforcement to oppose them.

Again, it was their time. Time to do more. Time to build his empire.

He'd wanted the Garth yard transported to Horath but the Tucket family had resisted. They had designated Garth as their little fiefdom to be, and he'd decided to let them have it. Their vision was so much smaller than his.

Other families had chosen the places they wanted to stake out. The Rico family wanted to build a navy. Other militant families were in agreement. He was in agreement. In order to fulfill his vision of an empire, he was going to need a navy.

Well, two navies, he thought, turning away and to the glass table near his chair. He poured himself a shot of vodka and then took a seat. He clipped his cigar, lit it, and then dipped the end in the vodka for a second before putting it back in his mouth to puff on it for a moment.

The taste was great. Even better when he considered the future.

He had already laid out his grand vision to the select few he trusted. They in turn had named their price to support it. He would need to set up a college eventually for the nobles to be. A parliament, that sort of thing. He sniffed, more in disdain over that than the fragrant smoke from the cigar.

If they only knew what he had planned …?

<<<*>>>

Admiral Theodore Rico nodded as he walked through the base. They were already drawing up plans for a space station of course, a command center for the navy he was going to build. Until then he had to use a campus on the ground.

He wore a snow white uniform, the only one in the navy at the moment. He loved gold braid and such but such things were for formal affairs. It was going to be a while before they commissioned their first proper warship so he would leave the formal uniform in his closet for formal dinners and the like.

Of which he was probably going to be enduring entirely too many of while they got their collective act together. Honestly, a spacer belonged in space. The sooner they got something, hell, at this point he'd take a cruiser as a temporary flagship, the better.

A Varbossa lad in a midshipman's uniform ran past him. He glared, making a note of the trespass. The young man needed to learn about protocol and manners. He made a mental note to have the academy look into that soon.

They were going to need everything. An academy, bases, written rules—the lists went on and on. It was daunting. One thing they were not going to abide by were A.I. He for one wouldn't allow them in the fleet. He couldn't and wouldn't trust them. The only person who ran his ships would be his officers and crew, not some jumped-up computer program.

He and the other families had insisted on splitting the navy into two parts. The first, the Battle Fleet, would protect Horath and eventually their empire. The other, the Gather Fleet would be the pirate fleet. The Gather Fleet would go out and play Q ship and pirate, tearing apart and picking the bones of the old Federation and bringing the booty back to Horath or to staging sites across the galaxy.

He was particularly looking forward to any military salvage they gathered for him and “his” navy. He knew he wasn't going to be able to keep his hands clean forever, but it was nice to pretend, at least for a while.

What was the term the Jabberwocky's had? Oh, yes, pre-salvage. He snorted at that idea. The joke was well known by pirate and mercenary clans.

Really, it was going to be years before they had a large enough navy to truly defend the star system effectively. They were going to have to be cautious as they felt their way across the galaxy, making contacts and taking command of the pirate enclaves and bases. They were going to have to have a solid battle line with fortresses and the like to protect Horath before the empire formally launched and the true conquest of the Federation began. He had faith in his people though. With order, discipline, and a healthy incentive, they'd get it done.

And if they didn't? Well, he'd be there to make sure they did. Even if he had to kick a few asses and make a few examples to get his point across.

<<<*>>>

The young woman smiled as she went through customs. Ships were moving in and out of Horath more frequently. It had been tricky to get a ticket. Horath seemed to be the place though to be in the sector at the moment.

“Name?” a bored customs agent asked. 'Hey, lady, name?” he demanded.

The woman shrugged internally. "Call me Hazel. Hazel Takeo …"

<<<*>>>

Ashes Snippet 3

 So, I managed to render 10 seconds of the video last night, and 2 today at breakfast and another 2 at lunch. This is going to be a long term render project.

Anyway, Firefox is acting up so let's see if I can get the snippet out:

Necrons

 

Cast:

Necron Bishop Hemdale

Jimmy Faldron: Convert

 

Founders:

Doctor Victor “Doctor Death” Mengelov: Necron leader.

Doctor Nesset: Necron second-in-command.

Doctor Shio Ishi: Necron third-in-command.

Doctor Dollmaker

Doctor Hugo Strange

Doctor Cadmus Peverell: Deathly hallow loved a woman who died, tried to bring her back, suicide.

 

Scottsdale IV, Epsilon Sector

 

Bishop Hemdale walked with a slow pace through the black halls. He had no idea why the Necrons preferred Gothic architecture. He didn't understand a lot of things about his adopted people. He didn't need to.

He was dressed in flowing robes of blood red and black. A matching mitre was on his head. Gold was woven into his outfit. The gold was a circuit design that interfaced with his cybernetic implants. The robes and mitre were to cover any blood he encountered. The mitre also covered the fact that his skull had been opened up, and he now had metal and plastic components along with a clear glass shell.

He didn't care for looks. He had risen through the Scottsdale chapter ranks to get where he was. He, unlike some of their number, actually appreciated his new form and newfound power.

Before, he had been a poor, down-on-his-luck immigrant on the streets of the colony. He'd come with such high hopes, trained in a variety of skills from construction to trauma medicine. He'd been dismayed that housing had been so crushingly expensive.

Since he had been new, he hadn't had an address. He, therefore, was classed as transitory. He'd tried to stay at a motel and had burned through what little cash he had rather quickly. He'd made mistakes.

When he'd been kicked out, he'd found it even harder to find a job. No one would hire him since he had no roots or a place to check on him. It had been hard to see interviewers give a fake customer service smile and pass him by.

Without money he had been stuck on the streets. At night he had been oppressed by the local law, driven into the shadows and away from the public eye. The public citizens and tourists didn't like the homeless population.

He'd worked whatever day laborer job he could find to get income with the intent of clawing his way back into the good graces of society. He had never been able to save anything though and had been robbed more than once. Several times he'd worked for someone and gone above and beyond to do the job … only to be stiffed in the end and laughed at. He hadn't been able to call the police for help, and they knew it and had taken advantage of him. He'd tried his hand at panhandling too when he was desperate and had endured beatings because of it.

He had become desperate and depressed and had fallen into the usual sewer of drug use and alcohol to cope. That had started him on a fast downward spiral. He'd even sold his body for sex a few times just to get his next fix when the addiction had kicked in and the cravings had gotten bad.

The Necrons had found him, half alive. He'd all but given up on life. They had shown him a new path. Cybernetic implants changed the cravings to one of power and of pleasure from direct neural stimulation of his pleasure centers.

He had risen through the ranks, showing a willingness that others lacked. He had even met a clone of Doctor Dollmaker and had been ordained into the Necron priesthood, their medics.

The clone had been one of several who had been making the rounds apparently. But he spoke with the master's voice.

He touched the Lazarus mind through his implants, caressing its sleeping mind and then went back to his walk.

His body was hunched over; he had implants on his back along with additional grafted on limbs. His legs had been replaced long ago. His flesh was weak with age and with rejection of the implants, but his spirit was alive with a fire and zeal few in their ranks had.

Which was why he was in charge, and they knew it.

<<<*>>>

Jimmy muttered, head bouncing around as he gibbered. He was in the throws of a bad trip he thought over and over again. The things that carried him were a nightmare.

His body was partially paralyzed from whatever spider thing had found him. He'd been asleep in the flood canal and now they were carrying him … somewhere. It was hard to think.

He started to gibber and someone in black and red touched him gently. He saw a needle come out of a hand and claw-like fingers stroke his flesh before the needle was plunged in.

Bliss overtook him within seconds, and he groaned greedily, happy once more.

<<<*>>>

Ashes Snippet 2

 Sitrep: So far not much headway on the animation, I'm waiting on feedback.

In other news I've made some minor progress with Searching for a Needle, and The Long Road Home.

   Searching for a Needle is book 1 of Pirate Hunt, the next Irons series. I'm in the blocking phase now. It will be in parallel to Diplomacy, Parabellum, The Pi Effect, and the Long Road Home. (It is the anchor line in other words)

  The Long Road Home is the next much anticipated Jethro Goes to War book. I had intended to write it first but I only had enough material for a very short (Very very short) short story... up until this morning. Pieces started to fall into place and I rolled out of bed and did some blocking. Hopefully it makes sense to my now caffeine invigorated brain. :)

 I am also debating on moving Academy to the short story anthology books. I had it blocked out years ago but never got around to writing it. You can see pieces of it in a few books. I threw people out there but then never got around to filling them in after that. Academy getting shelved is why. (that and I forgot them)

Anyway, on to the snippet!

  Whelp, I nearly had a heart attack! I went to grab the snippet and found out I'd put it in the wrong folder... and moved the file there. I thought I'd accidentally deleted Horatio 4! Whew! Glad I've got backups! That could have been messy!

Titan

 

Cast:

Captain SG Unicron: A.I. of Unicron. Ship A.I. As senior ranking officer acting captain after captain and flag officers killed in battle.

Commander Ozzie Bankole: Male Neogorilla. XO of the ship. Former TO of Battle Planet Colussus. Family man as a silverback with his own troop.

Commander Tornedron: A.I. Male. Resents being passed over for promotion and relegated to being under the thumb of organics. TO of the ship.

Lieutenant Commander Maev Hannibal: Chief engineer.

Governor Carrie Urban

Arblus: Technician on Lithone.

Lieutenant Kranix: A.I. Army. Retired to Lithone.

 

In hyperpace, Epsilon Sector

 

Lieutenant Commander Maev Hannibal, acting chief engineer stared at the inventory. It was better known for what was missing than what was left.

She was normally a glass half full sort of lady. Get her part of the way through a problem and she would take it the rest of the way. Engineers were problem solvers; they loved to get the job done and make a “miracle.” She had a motto etched on a plaque. “The difficult is done at once. The impossible takes a little longer.” She loved it and taught it to her crew. They had a reputation after all.

But damn. The war was grinding them down. Loosing half of their department hadn't helped.

She looked at the list again. The battle damage had been extensive. They had lost Unicron's internal yard, her nay, his small craft production center, the various subassembly lines, and a good chunk of their stores. Most of their magazines had been shot dry.

In other words, they were in a shot-up battle planet that had only his energy weapons left and not much industrial capacity at all. Oh, their molecular furnaces worked but so what? She shook her head in annoyance.

She looked down the list with the red lines. Nothing really jumped out at her. She finally grimaced and shook her head. “Okay let's take this from another view. What do we have left?” she asked. She had damage control parties still sorting out the wreckage. They were supposed to set aside anything that might be repairable. So far that list was depressingly small. Somehow she had to rebuild the ship with what?

Her eyes scanned down the list. She had about twenty industrial replicators left, all class 2. None were larger than three cubic meters. That sort of build volume sharply limited her options. And then there was the other big problem, the lack of keys.

She made a puttering sound and then dug into the list to see what she could do with what she had left. Some progress was better than none she reminded herself.

~@~

Commander Ozzie Bankole snorted, large nostrils dilating for a brief moment before he gave in and rubbed against the corner. No one was around, and even if they were, he didn't give a shit at the moment. Whoever thought it was a good idea to give primates the same nudity taboo as humans should have been given itching powder in every damn outfit they ever wore.

The corner wasn't quite sharp enough to get the itch completely, but it did give his back a warm friction burn after a few minutes. “Are you quite finished marking your territory, Commander?” a familiar bass voice asked.

“Just about. I hate having an itch I can't scratch,” The Neogorilla growled. He rolled his shoulders. “Can I help you, Captain?” he asked as he adjusted his uniform.

He was still feeling out his relationship with Captain Senior Grade Unicron. Unicron was the acting captain as he was the acting XO. He'd come off of Colussus so he had experience handling a ship so large. What he didn't have experience with was having an A.I. for a boss and being essentially screwed, blued, and tattooed as his father used to pithily say.

“There are some problems with some of the passengers. They also keep thinking I'm some dumb waiter. Remind them of their status,” the A.I. growled. The Neogorilla hid a grimace but nodded dutifully. “I also called for a senior staff meeting this evening.”

“Yes, sir. Can I ask what about?”

“What else?” the A.I. asked. “The repair status. We're not making much progress, and I expect that to change right away or heads will roll.”

“Yes, sir. I'll pass that along.”

“You do that, Commander,” the A.I. said tartly and then the voice clicked.

The Neogorilla knew better than to say something about his boss. The A.I. was watching at all times even if he seemed to be busy doing other things.

He shook his head as he pulled up a list of passengers. It would have been helpful if the captain had told him who specifically was treating him like a bot but apparently not. He checked the culprits he did know about. Most were settling down so he decided to have a chat with them.

As he wrote a list and then began to ping their locations in the ship, he plotted a route to hit each and a few stops along the way. The ship was the size of a planet; there was no way any officer could do a walkabout in her in their lifetime. Officers had to trust the equipment and their people.

Trust but verify Ozzie his errant mind thought before he brushed the thought away in irritation.

Once he had a map, he started in on it as he checked in with the status of the various departments. There were constant complaints from tactical, no surprise there. All they had left were their shields and energy weapons. Half of their energy weapons he reminded himself.

“Maev,” he said, calling the chief.

“Yes, Commander?” a familiar voice asked tiredly. Her image appeared in a window on his HUD a moment later. She was apparently near a camera since it was a live feed. “I am assuming you are looking for a status report for our lord and master?” she asked flippantly.

He scowled. “Maev,” he said in a darker tone of voice.

“Sorry. Tired. What gives?”

“As it happens, yes, I was asked to look into things. We have a senior officer meeting this evening.” He realized the captain hadn't given him a time. Rather than ping him he decided to shoot from the hip. “Seventeen hundred. Understood?”

“Sure.”

“In person.”

She grimaced but then nodded. “I'll be there. Where are you off to?”

“I need to remind some of the passengers to behave again.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Don't we have people for that? And shouldn't you just call them?”

“Sometimes it's best to make the proper impression in person,” he said gruffly.

She nodded.

“But you are right. We need a purser or quartermaster. Candidates?” he asked.

“A bean counter would be good. I don't have any off the top of my head. Definitely none I can spare. I do have …,” she frowned. “I know some of the departments didn't get too badly chewed up when we lost most of our stores. There might be one or two people left.”

“I'll look into it.”

“Okay. Anything else?”

“Where are we with repairs?”

“Trying to make bricks without straw tends to be an impossible task. We're making headway, but it's not much. Probably why we're going to get chewed out.”

He grimaced as he got into a lift. “Possibly. Any way to accelerate repairs?”

“Not without a yard or at least a mobile shipyard or tender. Or a couple dozen of them but they seem to be in short supply at the moment,” she said dryly. “I've got a couple of class 2 industrial replicators, and that's about it. Which, given the list of repairs,” she waved a tablet, “is like trying to bail an ocean with a teaspoon.”

“Well, every little bit helps. Keep on it. Think outside the box.”

“I am. We lost a lot of supplies. The scrap will only get us so far. We need to stop somewhere that has supplies and restock.”

“Ah. I'll pass that on or you can bring it up at the meeting. Out.”

“Out,” she said as the signal disconnected.

~@~