Folklore snippet 1

Sitrep:
  Okay, so, I was supposed to post snippets when I sent Folkore off to Rea Monday. One thing led to another and ... oops?
  ...And she sent it back to me too the other day. And yeah, I've again had one thing lead to another and I haven't opened it yet. (procrastinate much Chris? Answer: sorta. I'm multitasking, browning out, and okay, making excuses for myself.) Ouch.
I'll be sending it to Goodlifeguide sometime this weekend.

  In other news, I am progressing with Multiverse 4. I've completed 5 stories and I'm working on the 6th now. There will be 9 to 10 total like Folklore. Six of those stories will be in the Federation universe.

  As far as print projects go, I'm enjoying my CR10 S4 for the most part. I am printing a major project, one that is starting to slowly come together. I have had some warp issues, and I miss printing in ABS from time to time. But I like that it can print big scale objects. Expect me to print something big and Federation related in the future. :) (Jethro's bust maybe? lol I don't know if I have the room!)

  In family matters, I'm sorely tempted to start wringing some necks. Apparently my brother-in-law, and the nephews started their Christmas lists a tad early! Say, August? That got my sister going with her niece to start in about Thanksgiving last month. Yes, September. Thanksgiving. Plotting Thanksgiving in September! I host it every year. I do the cleaning, (including carpet cleaning) set up, appetizers, cooking, delivery to the table, cleaning, desert, and then more cleaning afterward. (Yes Mercedes, you are learning to help cook, I'll give you that much.) Yet they were plotting decorations, menus, and such. And they still are since they are tired of my basic affair. (2 fried turkeys, potatoes, veggies, and butternut squash among other things) They've gone out of their way to buy decorations last month and are now plotting to come over to my house to decorate with them in the first week of November. Ugh.
  They've got some of the family going on about wanting home cooked/baked food. GRR.
  I don't even want to think about how my hands will feel after peeling 10 pounds of potatoes and 2 butternut squashes! Oops, just did.
  As if that wasn't enough, on Sunday, my darling sister in her infinite wisdom decided hey, it would be a good idea for us to put my tree up on Thanksgiving. (yeah, I have an old artificial one. Done right it is beautiful. People can't tell it's fake. Seriously! Not kidding here!) And... "we can trim it while you are cooking since everyone is going to be there." (that is usually a separate event on the first weekend of December) GRR. (she's lucky she wasn't here when she passed that little idea on.) I put the kyboshes to that but they are now talking about doing it Black Friday or that weekend, along with hanging my lights and stuff. GRR. I usually spend the weekend cleaning and resting while lightly decorating. :P
  Then she started dropping hints about Christmas shopping, and last night she tried to send me her Christmas list. This morning she remembered to attach it to the email. Sigh.
   For the record, I put the lights up, (sometimes with help) I put the decorations up, and I put the tree up. Then we have family over to trim the tree with hot chocolate, snacks, pie, music and such.
   Look, I get it, I do, we all love the season (or some of us do) And with the crap going on, some of us want to feel that positive spirit again. I love it most of the time, (I may be agnostic but I am a Santa and Xmas light nut!) but when it gets pushed like this I get a tad testy and get holiday fatigue real quick.
   Don't get me started on my reindeer project. They've been on my rump about that for months!

  So, now you know why I don't like to write during the holidays. The distractions drive me balmy! (okay, more than I already am but just saying!) If you see people walking around with strange throttle marks on their neck, don't be surprised!

  Rant over, on to the snippet! And now I do need to open what Rea sent me. Hang on a sec...
Okay, I'm going to post 1 snippet or 2 from each story a day until Goodlifeguide gets it back to me.

The following is from Bounty Hunter:

Hester Michelle Gomez stepped to the hatch and raised her long muzzle to the air for a good sniff. She got the usual scent crap a Spaceport generated, but she thought she detected a faint scent, one she'd been hunting for a long time.

This is it. This is the place, she thought. It had to be. Her ship was the last ship to visit after the ship she was chasing. She was sure he was here. He'd been cooped up on the ship too long not to have gotten off here. He had an itch and he'd want to scratch it, she thought in disgusted anger.

As she looked around, she saw the city lights and people—lots of people. People for her perp to prey on and to blend in with. Yeah, he was most likely here, but she still needed to check the passenger logs of the last ship to be sure.

She stepped down the stairs and then followed the group as they made their way to the distant customs building. She hated that but was more or less resigned to it. She turned at a sound of a vehicle and watched a luggage train pass them. A piece of luggage popped off, and the truck stopped. The guy got out, shook his head in disgust and then picked the piece up and stuffed it back in carelessly. She winced but kept on trudging to the building.

“At least it's not mine,” she muttered under her breath.

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Hester waited patiently as the line wound its way through customs. Each person had to be checked, their reason for being there, their luggage, the works. It was far more thorough a check than any she'd seen before. Apparently, they'd gotten new toys and were eager to put them to use.

That wasn't really fair; they were close to the capital and Pyrax so of course they were getting good trade and new tech. And with the pirates trying to get people behind the lines to wreak havoc, she could understand the need for a few precautions. She just wished they'd asked the right questions and kept her perp from getting in.

But then again, their screwup was her way to profit from it. Hopefully, the bastard hadn't had too much time to set up shop, she thought blackly. He had about a three-month head start on her if she was right about the timing.

“Ma'am?” the agent said, cutting her thought train off. “Miss Gomez?”

“What?” She looked up. “Yes, that's me,” she said, flicking her ears and then her tail.

“I'm afraid we need to do a bit more thorough check with you. You've got weapons in your luggage,” he said.

That earned her some nervous looks from her former fellow passengers and some dubious looks from the freighter crew who'd come down on liberty.

“All legit,” she said. She had to show the agent her ID and her Federal license to carry the weapons. Most were non-lethal of course. Getting the damn license had been a pain in the ass and one more incentive to retire.

She knew that bringing weapons onto any planet tended to perk the interest of the local LEOs. One by one they checked her weapons. She had to explain where she got them, when she last fired them, the works.

So much for keeping them in the checked baggage to avoid complications, she thought in annoyance. “I know your heart is in the right place but this is getting a tad tedious,” she drawled. “And we're holding up the works,” she said, indicating the group with the bus outside the glass walls.

“We're just being thorough. You can never be too careful about who you let in—especially with the pirates acting as saboteurs, ma'am.”

She nodded once but didn't look at him. Instead her eyes were on her gear. All of her gear was there, strewn about. It offended her to see it like that. “Not very neighborly but I get the idea you don't want the wrong sort around,” she drawled as she checked her gear.

“No, ma'am. Staying long?”

“Was that your way of hinting I might be the wrong kind?” she asked, clearly amused as she flicked her ears at him. He looked down briefly and then met her eyes. “I won't be long. Just long enough to catch a few baddies and then move on.”

“I think you'll find things have changed here, lady. We've got better tech. Modern police tech,” the official replied with a sniff. Under her keen eyes, he had made sure nothing had went astray in the search, not even the bottle of hooch she had. It still had the labels on it, so he'd been forced to leave it alone and not confiscate it. She'd paid the fine for importing liquor and had even listed it in her luggage so he couldn't complain there either.

“Well, do you now?” she drawled. “Then I guess I won't be staying here long after all. We'll see,” she said as she hefted her bags. “Where to the nearest motel? I need to drop my gear off and eat before I check in with the sheriff's office. Unless you still post the wanted ads in the post office?”

“We do but they are out of date. These days we've got computer databases. And we've got DNA checkers, facial recognition programs, and the works. You may be out of a job,” the official replied with a shrug.

“Maybe. Then again, maybe not,” she replied as she walked out.

“Just a minute miss. We need to run you past the sheriff. So why don't you just wait while I put a call in,” the head agent said, putting a hand up and then waving to an office.

She sighed and then went into the indicated room.

“Just have yourself a seat and we'll be with you in a jiffy,” he said as he closed the door.

“Yeah, right,” she drawled. She heard him tell the bus driver to go and then sighed. “Great, just what I need,” she muttered as her stomach growled.

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