Friday, November 16, 2018

Kai's Story Snippet 1

Sitrep: So, Kai's Story is off to Rea. Hopefully she'll get it back to me and Goodlifeguide will be available to get it out before the upcoming holiday. We shall see.

While you wait I'm busy getting ready for the holiday (no doubt some of you are too) while also experimenting with the graphic novel process. I think I need another computer or a better rendering engine. (both are expensive)

Anyway, on to the snippet!


Note to the reader on timing 

The following story takes place after Ashes. It takes place roughly 40 years after the Xeno war and ends 600 years before the reborn Federation.

 

Act I

 

Chapter 1


 

Kai Lung was a young bull, barely in his third decade but a full space miner in his own right. He checked his status boards and then grunted happily. He was on his final approach, five by five.

He'd lucked out in his life so far. His sire had gone off to war. His dame had stayed on the planet of his birth. She'd scrimped to help him follow his dream to space. He had paid for her medical bills when she'd gotten sick. He'd finally paid them off a year after her death.

He tugged on a dangling ear. He wasn't a big bull; he watched his calories and worked out regularly. You had to do so if you wanted to stay healthy in space. Besides, food was expensive, even the mushroom crap grown on some of the local rocks these days.

Tau sector was mostly Tauren; they'd had the sector for generations before the Federation had been forged. His people had been driven from their original homeworld tens of thousands of years ago to the outskirts of the galaxy. For thousands of years they'd been xenophobic, that was, right up until they'd met the Terrans. Other species had learned to give his species a wide berth after an encounter but the Terrans had fought and surprisingly won against his people. They'd thought they were going to be destroyed or driven off by the Terrans but the aliens had surprised them with peace terms. More importantly, the Terrans had shared with them some of their secrets like Terraforming worlds into habitable places to live for the herd.

And they'd done it, though at considerable cost. His own world Minox IV had been terraformed. The first settlers had mortgaged the rocks in the system to the mega corporations who had occasionally traded them or sold the rights to others. There were few free rocks left; the best were staked out by warning beacons and systems.

But, it was a big system and there was enough there for independent people like him to make a living.

Or, at least try to he mused.

He did fairly well for himself by going after the small fry and hitting areas other miners weren't interested in. Other miners tended to go for the big score. He tried to find something worth his time but he wasn't against using his scoop to suck up gravel too. Especially if it was rich in heavy metals.

If the corporations were still around they might have had factory ships mining the belt. They would have had smelters going and wouldn't have left much for anyone. He'd heard about those corporate ships, they turned every molecule into something or other, leaving nothing behind but vacuum.

But they were gone. The last had left before he'd been born. Only the very old generations and the newest remained in the star system. Most of the middle aged and those in excellent health had gone off to the war. Few had returned. Those that did had come back broke and broken, with stories of horror and death of worlds and entire star systems.

They had been hit with refugees several times during the war. Homelessness was a big problem on the planet. It was one reason he was in space. At least in his tug he had a home and a way to make a living all rolled into one.

Some of the refugees had moved on once their ships had been repaired. There had been a big scandal when the previous Governor and his supporters had quietly left the star system, stealing a lot of things when they'd left. A new local government had been elected to replace them but they were lax and mostly ineffective.

To be fair, it wasn't their fault. The current government had inherited a corpse. His system's economy was barely hanging on. Factories were struggling to survive. Every few months another plant closed, or a business, or something else. It was disheartening to see.

A few times a year, usually when an increasingly rare tramp freighter passed through he toyed with the idea of jumping the system. Just pack up, get a ticket for him and his tug, pull up stakes and go to better hunting grounds. It had become even more tempting after his dame had died. He had no remaining bloodline family in the system.

He made the final approach and made a soft dock onto the airlock. “Good dock,” the foreman called over the radio. “Seals look good.”

“Roger that,” he said over the radio.

He might not have family but for the moment he had the next best thing, friends. Which was one reason he'd come in. The desire for company was strong in his species.

}^{

The planet

 

Krynn's holographic avatar ignored the little white sphere as it rolled across the floor. There were several on the floor but he was more intent on his report to the Governor. Not that it was doing much good to penetrate the organics' mind.

The class 1 smart A.I. had accepted a position on the planet as a planetary manager a 132 years, 5 months, 13 days, 3 hours, 54 minutes, 22 seconds, and 2 micro seconds prior. By ruthlessly culling his files and keeping himself from growing he'd managed to not outgrow his current limited hardware and going insane. The hardware which was struggling to run since it was decades old and they were starting to run into problems with replacement parts.

Apis, the legendary smart A.I. that had lived in the capital of the sector had recommended the posting to him after Krynn had gained consciousness. Sometimes he regretted taking his parent A.I. up on the position.

Times like this he thought, noting the human was preoccupied by his stupid game rather than listening to the briefing. The rather important briefing.

One of the A.I.'s duties was to warn the government about critical problems projected to come up in the future. For instance, the uptick in solar activity which was indicative of a harsh solar storm season. They were overdue for it, the binary stars had been quiescent for too long.

Which meant that the organics had taken the inactivity for granted and lowered their guard. Which was a problem. They were about to get a wakeup call if they didn't take it seriously. And based on the behavior of the governor, that was not going to happen.

Governor Seth Baine stood at the side of his desk and gripped the putter, trying to concentrate on his short game. “Thank you Krynn, concise as ever,” he said as the A.I. finished his report.

“Do you wish for me to pass on the official warning to the spacers?”

“No need. They no doubt have the information.”

“I don't know that for sure sir,” the A.I. stated. The spacers could have the raw information but not the means to interpret it. They also didn't have access to his projections. “There is no sign of that in the broadcasts.”

'Then they'll figure it out. A call to the belt costs credits and power we don't have. They'll make do like us.”

“Sir, a solar storm could devastate the belters as well as anyone exposed. It can also play havoc with the satellites, quite possibly destroying some of the older satellites in orbit.”

“What's the weather like?” The Governor asked as he hit the ball. “Oh get in there you mother...” he did a fist pump when the ball went into the artificial green and hole. He turned to look out the window.

“The weather is cloudy but the rain has moved north.”

“Perfect. I'll be out on the green then,” the Governor said as he holstered his putter into his bag and then picked it up.

The A.I. watched the human go with a mixture of disgust and relief.

}^{

Monday, November 12, 2018

Kai's Story

Sitrep:
So, I was working on Multiverse 4 and 1 Federation Universe story got out of control. That turned into Kai's Story:

 
  Kai's Story is a short novel detailing Kai's struggle to form the Tauren Confederation 600+ years prior to Commodore Logan's arrival in Tau sector.
That is currently up in the bull pen (no pun intended). I should be passing it on to Rea for editing this week. I'll try to start putting up snippets this week. It is short. (for me at least)

   In other news, Multiverse 4 is done and in the hands of the Betas as well. That should be out hopefully next month sometime. I've started the cover art for it yesterday. Fortunately for me, Daz3D is having that big sale so I picked a few pieces up to use.

  That's a record for me, 8 books in 1 year. :P I am done. I will putt around with the graphic novel and notes but I have no intention of taking on another book until January. So, no Wayne and whoever else, I'm not going to start Shiver Me Timbers any time soon. No nagging. Uh, uh-uh! Nope! Don't want to hear it! La-la-la... I can't hear you!

Lol Like that ever worked for long.

   I am making some progress on my droid project but stalling out again on the reindeer project. My CR10-S4 is limping along with an improvised pulley until the new one arrives sometime next month or January. I'm on my second temporary pulley. :P
  I printed stuff for my nephew's college project this week. We worked on it all weekend. Yesterday we finished. I was going to post a pic but the... oh, now you want to work? Sure, okay...
   I tried to print the plane but he ended up buying one. That worked out better, printing it would have cost more, the directions were nonexistent and it would have been even more of a headache to make. This one was bad enough! The thread had both of us ready to scream! This was his first model ever. (not kidding, dad and I were lax in his education! He did okay though, even if he goofed on the 2nd wing decals and glue)
  I printed, primed, sanded, and painted the bust of the Red Baron as well as the Red Baron's nemesis. >:D I couldn't resist throwing him in.
I also bought the materials and made the diorama. All I can say is, the brat better get an A!

  I'm also about to ring my sister's neck, she's turned my Thanksgiving week into a trifecta nightmare. A party to decorate my house Wednesday, (it is decorated already but they bought more stuff, and I clean that day, including carpet cleaning usually) Thanksgiving Thursday, and a dinner party decorating the house for Christmas and putting up the Christmas Tree Friday!) I'm exhausted just thinking about what it's going to entail. She insists it has to be Friday, not later on the weekend too. Several people have already gotten the day off to attend.  >:P
I usually try to space that stuff out so I can relax and enjoy it. She's anxious to get things going for some reason. And she has a point, the brat pack have off the wall schedules so they won't all be together until just before Christmas. Sigh.
I still hate the rush.
  She's even trying to get me to put my Christmas Lights up (I've got a massive amount of lights and stuff) and the Town Scenes (yes, plural, I have 2 massive ones I put up on top of my kitchen cabinets) up on Saturday! She got dad on board briefly before I put my foot down. GRR. And some people wonder why I can't get out of my own way around this time period?!?

Thursday, October 18, 2018

Folklore is publishing... now!

Sitrep:
  I got the manuscript back the other day but I've been nose to the grindstone with Kai's story. Sorry. :)
  I had problems uploading it to Amazon. Hopefully they figured it out. It took all day to get it uploaded and through their system. GRR. I played a lot of solitaire. :P

Anyway...
About:

  A group of ONI operatives test themselves and their new ship by visiting an abandoned station. A carrier is sent out to show the flag in a series of air shows gets far more than they bargained for. A pair of retired bickering veterans have their own version of fishing going on. These are just some of the ten new stories of the Reborn Federation.
 
As soon as each goes live I'll post a link as usual.
 
Book 43! Woot woot!

Edit: Okay, here it is:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07JHJV8CN

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/folklore-chris-hechtl/1129760029;jsessionid=075CC7A003C78C786C5FB51D2F0B3ED7.prodny_store02-atgap14?ean=2940161716564

If some of you are wondering, yes a couple of the stories will have a big impact on things to come.

Tuesday, October 16, 2018

Folklore Snippet 4

First up, sitrep:

I forgot to mention yesterday that I lost 3 pounds yesterday. I dunno where, (don't say between the ears!) and I'm pretty sure they'll sneak back when I'm not looking, but I'm grateful they are gone. :)

In other news, no sign of anything from Goodlifeguide. Apparently they are out of state on vacation. Oops?

Kai's Story has been expanded to 96 pages and I just finished act I. I'm doing pretty good but slowing down now. I think the sinus headaches from the wind and my allergies are playing a part there.

And finally, the snippet:

The following is at the beginning of Air Show:

Vice Admiral Phil Subert shook his head as he read the latest report. Thetis was about to receive her last draft of personnel. Once they were on board, the Thetis flotilla had a little bit of replenishment to complete and then they'd be on their way.
He didn't like the idea of sending a force in the opposite direction of the front. Oh, he knew about the political reasons and having a warship cruising the sector would be nice to have on call if it was needed. It still rankled a little to send a precious carrier away from where it needed to be.
But, it wasn't up to him. And, Admiral Irons had a point. They needed to show the flag a bit more.
“Almost finished packing, sir?” Barry asked.
“Why? That eager to get rid of me?”
“No, sir. I was just checking in and making conversation,” the A.I. replied.
“Next time try knocking first and asking about the nonexistent weather or something,” the admiral replied tartly. He shook himself as he realized he was coming on a little more forceful than he intended. “Sorry, I'm still working on that.”
“I believe I caught you at a bad time. My apologies, sir.”
“We were both to blame, Commander. Let's not make a habit of it in the future. What's the ETA on my replacement?”
“Her ship has arrived at the jump point. Two and a half days cruise to the base,” the A.I. reported.
“Understood. I guess I should get to that packing then,” the admiral said with a grunt.
-=@=-

Monday, October 15, 2018

Folklore snippet 3

Sitrep:

I've been plugging away on MV4 for a while now, past the half way point when I got to the story Wayne challenged me to write. He and several other people have been on me about writing Shiver Me Timbers as well as more Tau sector stories.
  I had 1 sentence. That was it. 1 seed of a sentence of a vague idea that grew to 10 pages, then to 22. It has now overtaken me. I've pretty much forgotten everything else in the heat of the moment to get the story out.
  Yesterday was 1 such day. I was supposed to post this snippet. Instead I wrote 38 pages and reformatted the Tau story, now renamed Kai's Story into a novella in it's own right. I broke it down into chapters, and finished the first 7 chapters. Yesterday I had to force myself to stop at 61 pages in order to cook dinner and rest. (I was button punchy) I even wrote out the idea for the cover art.
  I was shooting for 100 pages. I figured I'd be lucky if I got that far. But 30 pages were raw blocking.
This morning I just added 10 more pages in roughly an hour. Yipe? Most of it blocking too. 1 page of blocking usually translates into 1-3 pages of finished text.
  So, yeah, I've got a bit more than I bargained for.

On to the snippet!

This one is from Boarding School


Kevin Ramichov looked at the window briefly. There was a slight breeze outside. He didn't care for it; he'd grown up indoors most of his life. But he did sometimes enjoy going outside. He ran a hand through his short raven colored bangs and thought about the platoon marching outside.
Not in blustering weather like now though, he thought, noting the fat drops of rain. He'd much rather see it snow than rain, but they were a month or so out from that sort of storm. Most likely the exercise would be called off. The staff wanted their charges to learn to deal with adversity, but they knew not to push it and let one of their charges get sick or injured.
As a plebe at the Imperial Star Academy, he'd normally be expected to shovel the walk, stand fire watch, and do other menial tasks. But he had something the others lacked, a very high rank. Rank hath it's privileges, he thought with a brief self-satisfying smirk.
Technically, no one should know who he was. As the youngest prince, he should be enrolled under a false name and identity. But his mother had insisted that he have additional around the clock security protection. That had negated any attempt at keeping a low profile.
Which was fine with him. Nathan behind him helped shield him from some of the hazing and excessive demands from the seniors at the academy. Just about everyone was quaking in their boots at the sight of him and for good reason. A single word from him could end their careers or their family's careers.
It gave him a heady feeling to have such power at such a young age. It was his birthright. He intended to enjoy it to the fullest.
His eyes had recently turned to girls as puberty had begun to set in. The school was coed. He had yet to get into the pants of one of the girls at the school despite the rules, but it was only a matter of time. Hell, if he wanted he could probably bed one of the female instructors if he wanted to do so.
Of course his fiancé was at the school as well, which complicated things. Agnes Rico was a sniveling woman; he already detested her, mainly because she sought out his company so often. That usually drove the other girls away. She was also in her awkward period. She was a bit portly, had braces and wore glasses. She tended to snort and giggle a lot. She also had absolutely no sense of style. Sure, they all had to wear a uniform but at least some of the other girls had their uniforms tailored to accent their bodies. And they did nice things with their hair and makeup. Agnes didn't.
He was hoping that his mother would break off the engagement. He didn't want to be saddled with the girl because it was a political necessity. His mother had explained it to him several times, but he still didn't like it.
He'd recently heard that a lot of the navy families were on the decline. Each had taken hits due to the hated Federation. The Rico and Cartwrights had been hit. They hadn't yet been forced out of power in the Admiralty, but some were already whispering it was only a matter of time. One more major loss and either or both family would fall from grace.
Of course, some said the same about his family when he wasn't around to hear or so they thought.
He grimaced in annoyance. It seemed his family was tied to their success. Which meant Agnes would cling even further to him.
There were of course ways to rid himself of her. His mother had made it clear he had to stick to protocol. He couldn't drive her away nor could he find a way for her to suffer a “mischief.” His mother, like some of the other women in his life, could be so trying at times.
He fought a suffering sigh.
One other benefit of being a prince was that he got his own room. Normally the plebes had to share a room with a group of others. He knew some hated it. He enjoyed his room. Nor had he been inspected by the seniors. Only once had he been inspected by an instructor. That instructor had been counseled to never write him up again.
He had five official siblings all told, although two were deceased. Only little Khalia, his ten-year-old sister was a full-blooded sibling.  His eldest siblings had been by another mother. The same for the middle two siblings.
Catherine was the ranking sibling. Miles was missing and presumed dead like Adam. Joseph was a Marine and third in line for the throne. That left him and Khalia.
He knew that each of them had a mark on their back, a target from their other siblings as well as from the various families involved. Each wanted the throne and therefore wanted to prevent others from getting to it first.
He had his doubts about little Khalia. She was too sweet and innocent. He doubted her time in her current boarding school would toughen her up. She'd already made it clear she wasn't interested in a military career. Their mother had agreed.
His easy, almost pleased thoughts began to turn dark as he realized that he was still helpless. Sure he had some power over others and himself, but it was sharply limited. Catherine or Joseph could scheme against him with impunity. They could attack him, and he couldn't retaliate. The same for the ruling families not linked to his mother's.
The only thing keeping them in line was his grandmother. The red queen they called her. No one stepped out of line with her watching their every move. And she was always watching. Her spies were everywhere.
He'd heard about the savage losses against the Federation. They were losing the war no matter what the media was reporting. He could feel the unease in the air sometimes. He was pretty sure his father or grandmother was behind the replacement of the PM too. Up until the Duke and Duchess had died, the dynastic wars had been in something of a truce, or so he'd been told. Now, no one was sure about anything.
There were a lot of calls to pull together in the face of a common enemy. But there were some who were starting to look at the war as an opportunity. The loud ones he knew II had already identified. They might make an example of one or more. He wasn't certain about it though. He'd come to realize there was a difference between someone talking a big game and actually pulling something off.
It was the quiet ones that you had to watch out for. His mind turned to his little sister again.
Unlikely Kevin, he reminded himself.
No, he had three attack vectors to worry about. One, an attack from within, either from another student, an instructor, or his own security detachment. It could come in the form of a direct attack or poison. He'd already had a couple suspicions about accidents he'd endured in the past two years. Nothing serious enough to garner the interest of II, but enough to keep him on guard.
The second vector was external, the thing he had no control over nor much warning if it did come. That could be in the form of a direct assault or a bomb. That was a concern and one reason he preferred to be behind bullet-proof glass and armored walls.
In order to attack him, they'd have to get through the academy's formidable defenses. A concentrated attack had never happened, but it was still possible. More likely someone would try to attack him while he was en route to or from the academy.
The third attack vector was both external and internal but more insidious. It could be an attack on his reputation and slights against him in order to draw him into saying something he shouldn't. He'd learned twice to his chagrin to keep a lid on his temper and mouth. Such attacks could undermine his future, cutting away at his foundation and making it harder for him to grasp the reins of power if he ever had the chance to access them. He hated the backbiting gossip.
It could also mean a way for others to extort something out of him. He'd learned about political exchanges and trading favors when he'd been informed he'd been betrothed to Agnes after all.
He didn't just have to worry about enemies and family but also mock attacks too. His grandmother was notorious for sending someone to test his defenses. Or even letting someone else get close enough to wake him up.
And people think my father is paranoid, he thought with a mental shake of his head.
Paranoid he might be but paranoids had real enemies. If they were smart and paid attention, they had a better chance of living longer.
--///\\\--

Saturday, October 13, 2018

Folklore Snippet 2

Okay, still in Bounty Hunter:


Planetary Sheriff Bert Hayden had other things he should be doing, other things than listening to a custom agent worried about a bounty hunter.
She had piqued his interest though. “A fox?”
“Yes, sir.”
“A fox,” the sheriff murmured as he checked the files the agent had sent him. He scanned them, but he recognized her right off. He'd seen her three times before, each time in company with a Neobloodhound. Apparently, she was on her own now though.
“Miss Gomez. I know her. I've seen her work,” he grudgingly admitted. Just to be sure he tapped in an inquiry to the ansible. It only took a moment to get a response back.
He remembered her though. It had been years since she'd been in his jurisdiction. Traveling bounty hunters were a rarity. Most who did something like that didn't do it as a straight-up profession.
He'd come into law enforcement more or less to find a career. That had evolved a bit as he'd found he'd loved the job. It wasn't the sense of power as much as the sense of justice that went with it and the respect he got from most of the law abiding people.
He was getting up there in years despite the newfangled medical tech Gaston had available. Bonny was perfectly happy with him as the planetary sheriff. It meant he had dozens of deputies, and he spent most of his time with his ass firmly planted in an office chair these days. He wasn't out getting shot at, which she feared.
He'd muttered a few times about retiring, and she'd put that down. Her acidic response to him sitting around cluttering up her house was still amusing and treasured by him.
“Sir?”
“Sorry,” the sheriff replied. “What was the question?”
“What do we do with her? She's got weapons, but really, she's a civilian.”
“I know. And I know her profession has a bad rap. But she has a way of getting results.”
“I see, sir. Well, if you say she's legit, sir, we'll let her go.”
“She is. I remember her. I just checked the ansible. She's a bounty hunter all right,” the sheriff drawled. “I'm curious about what she can do here. We've exhausted all our leads. She's got a good reputation though.”
“Yes, sir.”
Look into why she was there and check the backlog of reports ton find out about the predator she was tracking from New Texas. “Well, well, well. Ain't that interustin’,” he drawled. He sat up abruptly as he started to make connections with cases he'd seen. All cold cases all scattered around the planet. But they shared a few similarities.
“Ruffus, I think ya'll better come in here. We need to have another look-see over a few of the older cases …”
“Ah, sir?” the custom agent asked.
“Not you. Yeah, let her go. Tell her if she wants to see our want sheets and work here on my planet she needs to talk to me though.”
“Yes, sir. Will do,” the agent said before he hung up.
<(>^<(>
“You are free to leave,” the agent said bluntly as he came into the room. She flicked her ears to him. Despite the sound proofing, she'd picked up some conversations outside of the small office slash interrogation room they'd left her to cool her heels in.
“That was an hour. What gives?”
“The planetary sheriff was in his office, surprisingly. I got him right off. He said to tell you that if you want to see our want sheets or work on the planet you need to check in with him first.”
“Huh,” she said as she rose slowly. She'd sat for an hour in a rather uncomfortable human style chair. It had exactly zero padding and was made to make someone squirm and want to give up their secrets to just get away from it. It was positively evil. She loved it.
“I'll let him know but I don't know if I'll be doin’ much,” she said, tipping her hat back.
“Since you missed the bus to the capital, I got a list of motels for you as well,” he said, holding up a printed list.
“Well, I thank you right kindly,” she said, taking the list from him. “I usually try to find a place out of the way,” she said.
“Keep a low profile so you don't spook your perps. Got it,” he said with a nod.
She turned a sharp look on him but he'd already turned and was halfway out the door. “You coming, ma'am?” he called back.
“Just a minute,” she grumbled, gathering her bags up once more.
<(>^<(>

Friday, October 12, 2018

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.
<(>^<(>
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.
<(>^<(>

Friday, September 14, 2018

Full Circle is publishing... now!

Ayeyup, I went and did it. Full Circle is publishing now. I'll post the links when they become available.

  Rear Admiral Horatio Logan has been through the ringer in Bek. Sent there by Fleet Admiral Irons to get the system's navy up to date, he instead walked into a rebellion and was court-martialed as a concequence of it.
  Admiral Irons managed to stomp out the rebellion and restore order to the star system. Admiral Logan returned to his duty and his original mission.
  But, there is still some lingering resistance in Bek. And there are also powerful things afoot in the outer Federation. Eventually both forces will conspire to move Admiral Logan out of Bek and back to the Federation where a new destiny awaits.
 
  Folklore is in the hands of the Betas, and I'm off this week and next to decompress and catch up on other projects. I'm hoping to get the ID-10 done,(But the model has picked up some gaps and wicked warps)  plus make some progress on the much delayed Reindeer Project. The weather is conspiring against me however. :P

EDIT:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07HCMJ9MR

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1129537672?ean=2940161565957
Thank you Duncan!

Anyway, enjoy the book and please post a review!

Folklore cover

Oops, I meant to post a snippet yesterday. I got caught up in other things.

I'm going to publish Full Circle later this morning so I'll pass on the snippet. But, here is the cover of Folklore.
The station is from CGtrader.com. The ship is a revamped version also from that site. I blended a few HDRI files for the background.

Wednesday, September 12, 2018

Full Circle Snippet 5

Sitrep: So, expect Full Circle to be published September 14. That is this Friday.

   Second, I'm starting to decompress and work on my projects. One of them, my flying ID-10 I started just hit a major wall. While putting the legs together I ran into serious brittle, warp, and cracking issues. I know shrinkage caused some of the fitting issues, and I know printing at 5% infill or hollow didn't help. I thought printing with ABS and then hardening it with hot acetone would help.
Nuh uh.
Okay, so, static model it is. I'm so dispirited with it I'm just going to make it as a standing model. I'm not going to try to figure out how to vacuum form the body or anything. I'll print a base for it later in the week.
As my sister said when she heard the news, bummer.
  But, at least I'm not buying a ton of stuff to try to get the little droid to fly. It would have really sucked if I'd gotten it up only to see it crash into something and blow apart in a million pieces.
Pass.
  I do need to buy a lot of bondo filler to finish it. (seriously) Getting the warps out is going to be tough too. Ugh. I'm not even going to add lights to it. Just finish it, paint it, pose, touch up, and then move on to the next project. Which is currently printing. :)

On to the snippet!

Chapter 4 


Childress Shipwrights went down with the matriarch when she and other supporters were found guilty. Mrs. Childress remained silent as she was escorted to prison. Her family's company was taken apart by the courts and sold off to pay creditors. The media reported that she and others had filed appeals but had been denied bail and an opportunity to sit those appeals out when their personal fortunes had been drained. They had tried to drum up sympathy over the massive court fees, but no one was interested.
Several retired supporters of Admiral Childress were tried in civilian court and found guilty. One committed suicide. Two others had died under mysterious circumstances. The others were sentenced, though a few like Admiral Open Eyes turned on his fellows and for a reduced sentence had testified against them, sealing their fate.
Each of the contractors who had supported Childress was blackballed from government or naval contracts. That hit their bottom line, and investors left in droves. Fabian CNC makers went under. Snipclick Enterprises did a day later.
Baker, the Neocat who had come from Pyrax, took a position in a newly-reformed industrial board in order to make sense of the chaos. He had sternly taken charge, settling some of the market jitters in the process.
It wasn't without its trials though. He found that even though the political animals were down, they were by no means beaten. Some back-scratching was still going on behind the scenes.
When he heard the lobbyists were scrambling and the subcontractors were ticked, he knew something was up. It didn't take him long to use his taps into the scuttlebutt to get to the bottom of it. When he did he just groaned and shook his head.
~~(O)~~
Horatio wasn't surprised that the various review boards were scrambling to justify their jobs while screaming to their friends to do something to cover for them. Some of those same friends had gotten their contracts through suspicious means. He'd been tempted to sic the IG office or JAG on them but had held off. Suspicious activity wasn't proof without evidence to back it up.
Lieutenant Olson and the others he had recruited had at first been cautious, but then had gleefully pointed out the most boisterous obstructionists in the byzantine review process. They had spent the first day going over a flow chart and seeing what dead weight could be lost to straighten the process out and streamline it.
He'd been a little irritated but not surprised that Commander Dreamer of Ships had let the cat out of the bag to some of the contractors. Beau had pointed to a yeoman who had also done the same. So be it.
He sent his pitch to Zek with a copy to Antigua. Zek approved of the changes. Antigua took a little longer but also approved the changes.
That was when he was called into Vice Admiral Maok's office.
Vice Admiral Richard Maok had been a dinosaur who had resigned in protest when Childress had first taken over. When he'd taken up Admiral Irons' offer and returned to duty, he'd taken over the Weapons Development Board. According to their research, he was the primary culprit for some of the recent delays in the ship approval process.
The funny thing was he hadn't run across the admiral or many of the review boards when he had designed and built Ilmarinen. Apparently, Childress or someone else had browbeat them into getting them to accept the design in order to see it blow up in Horatio's face or to get rid of Horatio all together.
Either way, he had to deal with the man now.
It was a little amusing when he was called in to the vice admiral's office like an errant child sent to the principal's office for being too rambunctious.
“Look Logan, I don't know how they do it out there, and I really don't care. But here, we take our jobs seriously. And I don't like threats,” the admiral stated once Horatio had reported to his office.
“I wasn't aware you were threatened, Admiral,” Horatio stated carefully, checking for implants. The admiral had the basic ID implants but nothing more. He regretted not letting Beau access the admiral's BUPERS file. He'd denied the simple request because he had thought someone in BUPERS would have noticed.
“Are you after my job? Just what do you want?”
“Admiral, each of those ship designs was approved by the Antigua design review process. They are in full production there and in Pyrax. Yet for some reason the boards here have refused to allow them to be put into production. There have been all manner of excuses. I noted this wasn't a problem when Admiral Irons was here. Yet, now that he isn't, there is a problem.”
“Are you insinuating something, Logan?”
“No, sir. Just reflecting about the timing,” Horatio replied with an indifferent shrug.
“I take my job very seriously as do the others on the board. We exist for a reason.”
“Currently the job you are doing is redundant. That is why we are streamlining the process.”
The vice admiral glared at him. “I don't have to justify my job to you.”
“Admiral, I am the deputy commander of BUSHIPS. It's my job to make sure these designs are put into production as quickly and as painlessly as possible. It's my job to also eliminate waste and redundancy. It isn't personal.”
“The hell you say!”
“Well, you have several options here. You can try to fight it, but I've already gotten permission from Admiral Zekowitz as well as the Antigua Admiralty to move the dismantling process along. Or, you can do something. Something constructive would be to transfer to Antigua and take up your old job there.”
He didn't state that he highly doubted the admiral would be allowed to take the job in the first place— not the way he acted.
“Excuse me?”
“Antigua. The capital. The Federation Weapons Development Board is there. It is redundant to have one here as well as I mentioned. The one in Pyrax was shut down and shifted to the capital some time ago. I suppose we've been lax in that we didn't do that here now. I'll have to contact Admiral Irons and see about arranging the transfer.”
The vice admiral stared at him for a long moment. “That's not necessary.”
“Oh, I think it is. He hates waste. And, since the Federation Senate has been on him about wasteful spending practices, then this is important.”
“I mean, we don't really need to bother him. We can work this out.”
“Oh?”
“Well …”

Tuesday, September 11, 2018

Full Circle Snippet 4

Sitrep:
So, I've sent Full Circle out to just about all of the proofreaders. I also did the cover today, I just sent it to Wayne to have a look-see. :)

   I've got a lot of kin in the path of the hurricane. If you are in the path, please play it safe and batten down the hatches and get out to a safe place if possible. My gram didn't even know it was coming! They don't have TV at my uncle's house. (she's visiting until the end of the month) We called and warned them last night.

On to the snippet!


Chapter 3


“The more things change, the more they stay the same,” Rear Admiral Brunswick grumbled, scratching an itch on his side.
Horatio looked over to the visiting Neobear. The bear had hopped a return flight on one of the ships that had jumped to Bek B to run a test. It was stated as a consult, which it was. He had left Captain Walengrad in charge of the repair yard while he came over and had a chat with Horatio and Zek and visited his family briefly.
The bear had spent the past six months in Bek A before he'd been sent back to Bek B.
“I take it you ran into a problem?” Zek asked mildly.
“Only the usual bullshit. Politics rearing its ugly head. Some foot dragging going on. Some of it is to do with the courts too,” the bear grumbled as he picked some lint off with his long claws and then flicked it away.
“Ah. Well, you have to give them their due,” Zek replied dryly.
“Right, or they'll take it anyway,” the bear grumbled.
“True,” Zek replied with a brief snort. “What gives?”
“A bit of the same you were dealing with here. Remember how they did the set up in Bek B?”
“I'm a bit fuzzy.”
“Cute. You mean I am,” the bear chuffed. Zek snorted. “Standard practice back in the day was for the yards to update periodically. They'd sell their cast-offs either to a lower start-up or to be recycled. But, sometimes they would pack up the old gear and send it to Bek B.”
“Ah. So, you are what, three generations behind?”
“Something like that. Or, at least we were. Captain Walengrad had a hand in updating us during Childress's mutiny.”
Zek nodded, eyes hooded.
Captain Alice Walengrad had definitely shaken things up in Bek B. The infrastructure and fleet had been updated with a little help from Captain Thistle and her own ingenuity. But, now that Bek A had gotten a kick in the pants from Admiral Irons, the navy had done its best to straighten itself out and get the rebuild and restructuring program going with full steam.
So, Bek B was starting to fall behind.
“Well, some bright-ass paper pusher recognized our good fortune and tried to reverse the flow. I put the kyboshes to that. But now we've got more problems. The new equipment is in short supply as you know.”
Zek nodded. Bek B was now independent, at least on paper. That meant they had their own budget to deal with, though the civilians were still sorting that out. It would most likely take years. “But the old isn't.”
“Right, but only because a lot of contractors and yards tanked. The only reason they backed Childress was because they thought he'd maintain the status quo. Some thought he'd give them first dibs on what tech they would allow. When Irons showed up, that went out the window.”
Zek nodded. A lot of civilian yards and contractors had gone bankrupt during the crash and investigations that had followed. Half of the corporations that had backed Childress had their boards under house arrest or in prison.
Many of them were selling off their old equipment to settle some of their debts. A few might come out of bankruptcy in some semblance of their previous self down the line. But others that worked too close to the margins had been burned and were done for.
Horatio had talked him into taking advantage of it. He'd convinced Admiral Irons to buy up some of the facilities and keep some of the personnel employed. That had been a minor positive bump against a tide of workers suddenly being thrown into an unemployment tailspin. One of the other factors that was handing the current administration such a headache.
In fact, their little brainstorm was getting drawn out in court. Horatio had moved forward to update the yards and retrain the workforce. They had become the nucleus of two new production lines. The workforce had been a showcase for the civilians to follow and imitate.
Not all of the equipment could be rebuilt. Some of it had ended up recycled, but some had been sold. However, with the market the way it was, they'd gotten a pittance as a return. He knew some of the equipment had been bought up by rival yards and even star systems in the outer Federation via the ansible. ETMI and Senka had bought a lot of equipment and were paying to have it stored until they could arrange shipping. Credit exchange debates were still ongoing as well he knew.
And then there were other facilities like the orbital warehouses, factories, and habitats. A habitat was a habitat; it would function as a shelter just fine. The same for an orbital warehouse. They might not be as efficient as a modern one but they could do something about that later.
“So, what's on your mind?”
“I need a line into the new equipment. And we need shipments of parts on our end too. And we need to start modest production facilities there as well.”
Zek nodded slowly. “Okay, I think I can see a few things we can do to help you.”
“A few?”
“The art of compromise, my friend,” Zek said. The bear snorted. “Besides, it gives you the excuse to come over and see us and your family again later.”
“Well, there is that,” the bear chuffed.
“Give me a list, and I'll see what I can do. Do you need people too? We released some of the training requirements, and some of the vocational schools are working-up new programs. I think we've got a few people who you could borrow to train your own workforce on the new gear …”
The bear looked at him and then nodded slowly. “I think I just might appreciate that,” he said.
“Good. Now …”
~~(O)~~

Jethro Goes to War 10 What We Fight For is publishing NOW!

 ...and the book! About: With the pirate battle moon captured Jethro and the pirate empress in custody; the Cadre must secure it for the F...