We the People Cover

First up, Sitrep:
Yes that is me in the Astromech.net forums. Nuff said there for the moment. :)

In other news, I am working on The Gaia Project. I am down to the last 7 chapters after finishing 8 today. I'm a bit button punchy and I've been fighting a headache all day.

Okay, let me back up. The next book is We the People. It is a Founding of the Federation book. I had intended to write a short story with it, The Gaia Project. It was supposed to be tucked away in the last Founding stories book at the end of this year. One thing led to another and it sorta grew into a short novel.
Novella? Not sure.
Anyway, I decided I want to knock out the Founding series this year, much to some of the Beta's dismay. (hence the poll in the FB group) There have been complaints about the number of series I have running. I decided to knock this one out before opening up the Ragnarok (aka Gottenberg/ Xeno War) trilogy. (Is it a trilogy if there are 2-3 short story books too?)

Anyway, I'm on track to finish The Gaia Project. Not bad since I started it 3 weeks ago.

Oh, We the People:
The last 2 Betas should be getting me their take on the book soon. Hopefully early this week. We shall see. It is... well, I'll get into that later. (Headache is getting worse)

Here is the cover:

You may have noticed I did my own spin on a famous painting of the American Constitutional Convention/signing. I had fun with all the different aliens. Some are placeholders, some you might recognize. Some still need a bit of improvement.

Have fun figuring them all out. Maybe one of the Betas should open up a contest on the FB group? :)

Anyway, I'll start posting snippets as soon as I finish with The Gaia Project.

Happy Memorial Day everyone!

Blockade is publishing now!

Sitrep:
I finished the rough draft of the cover to We the People yesterday and sent it off to Wayne. I'm going to pitch it to the other Betas later today. (If I remember!)

Also, I received the manuscripts back from Goodlifeguide.com after a bit of a mix-up yesterday afternoon. I decided to publish this morning. :)

Since Fleet Admiral Irons woke from stasis he has been focused on rebuilding and restoring the Federation.

He has fought internal politics as well as assassins and strife within his own reborn navy. But above it all 1 force has stood in the way of restoring peace and civilization to the galaxy, the pirate empire of Horath.

For years the navy has fought a see-saw battle across multiple star systems. They have gotten the upperhand and have steadily pushed the pirates back to their home star system.

But, the pirates aren't willing to surrender tamely. They have thousands of ships and millions of tons of battle fortresses waiting in Horath, all set to turn it into a cauldron of death and destruction.

Admiral Irons only recourse is a...

Blockade

As usual I will post the links to Amazon and B&N when they go live.

EDIT:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07RDY8ZNG

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1131455446?ean=2940161238240

Be ready for a roller coaster ride! :D

That is all... for now!

Blockade Snippet 4

Sitrep:
I just got Blockade back from Rea. I've incorporated some last minute changes from Poon and then wrapped it up and sent it to Goodlifeguide. So, the clock is ticking.

In other news, I've been trying to work on the droid now that the workbench is free. I've already messed myself up though, kicking myself over it. I'm not sure of a fix. And my CR-10 is acting up again. :P

I've tabled fixing it until I'm done with We the People.

Anyway, on to the snippet!

Still in chapter 3. On Garth:

-~~~///^\\\~~~-

Lu Chu'ng Hock, aka Rainbow 4, shook his head as he heard another complaint. "Look, Mrs. Patterson, I get it. I do. But it's not up to me or you. And I know you are upset. But I have to tell you, I'm really rather busy," he said, indicating the desk. As one of the resistance, he'd been tapped to help reform the government. His skills at leadership and business began and ended with his involvement with his family's line of restaurants though. He was feeling a bit overwhelmed by the project.

Mrs. Patterson sniffled and dabbed at her eyes with a hanky. "It's just, I had such grand plans!"

"I know," he said with a nod. "And you can still fulfill them, but it will take a bit longer to achieve them. Keep working on your goals. We're still going to get support from the Federation government to rebuild."

"We are?" she asked, looking up at him with sudden dawning hope. He tried to ignore the sight of greed in her green eyes too.

"Yes," he said with a nod. He didn't like being beholden to any government. None of the others in the government did either, but they weren't going to turn the charity down either.

"My late husband did a great job with his furniture and picture frame business …," Mrs. Patterson waved a hand.

"I bet he did. You said you are rebuilding it and looking to export?" he asked as he went and got her a cup of tea.

She nodded as he handed it to her. "Such a polite boy," she murmured, relaxing. "I'd planned to do enough business to export some of our goods. Dead Drop has plenty of trees, and I'm employing dozens of people …"

Lu nodded. That was certainly true and the main reason he's been forced to put up with the sniveling woman and get her to calm down and sort herself out.

"I was even exploring some light fixture designs. There is a lot of call for plastics and glass, but I know some contacts in the glass blowing business I can work with," she said. "But the nonsense over all the restrictions!" she waved a helpless hand, nearly spilling her tea.

"I'm sure you'll work your way through them. There are automated systems to help," he said.

"But, I thought that was where you came in?" she asked, lower lip quivering.

"I am supposed to oversee a small part of the rebuilding of businesses. I am still learning the finance side," he admitted. What he really wanted to do was to be in the military. But someone in the Federation State Department had pushed for him to be utilized on his homeworld for the time being.

He'd tried to complain, but he'd been quietly counseled to go with the flow for the moment and not make waves or future enemies.

"It's also this stupidity over incandescent lights over LEDs. And scanning? Security checks? Import and export fees?" she shook her head. "Taxes?"

He frowned. "I'm not sure about the lights," he said with a helpless shrug. The rest are a part of exporting or importing goods I believe." He pulled up the files and then nodded. "Yes. Everything has to pass through a security screening. They scan the goods. There are lists of goods that are banned."

She nodded.

"The fees are normal. We're discussing fees for our world too to help pay for the rebuilding," he said.

She blinked and pursed her lips. He could tell from her set expression she wasn't pleased over that news.

"Not a lot," he said hastily. "A half credit or less depending on the item. There are no export fees I believe, at least, not from us. And you don't have to pay import fees at ports where the goods pass through, just carriage and storage unless you go with a shipping company."

She nodded.

"Currently, we're one jump away from the frontlines, so we can't get much help from the growing Federation merchant houses. Once the front stabilizes in Garth, we'll be cleared for civilian traffic," he explained.

She nodded again.

"And, the merchant houses can help with the paperwork. You can negotiate with them through the ansible."

She frowned. "I don't like that. I don't like the idea of typing into that thing and trying to negotiate something so delicate. I mean it's so dry! So impersonal! We don't get to know each other, feel the other side out, make connections …." She shook her head.

"Well," he drawled cocking his head. "You could send someone to do the negotiating for you or if someone comes here wine and dine them here," he suggested.

She smiled brightly. "Such a devious boy," she gushed.

He chuckled at her charm.

-~~~///^\\\~~~-

Blockade Snippet 3

Here we go:

Chapter 3

Protodon

 

Brigadier General Valenko Kodiak received his movement orders to go to Dead Drop in the next convoy when his new command ship arrived. He was to be joined by an Army division as well as supporting forces. The other divisions would be invading Dead Drop. His was designated for Garth, though General Pendeckle's Second Division might join him if Dead Drop turned into a dud. "About time." He waved to his staff. "Come come! We have some planning to do."

There was a good natured groan from some of his staff.

"You have a better idea?" he rumbled. A few heads shook. "Ah good then. I need the latest intelligence extracts on Dead Drop. Set up a system to draw on them right up until we get underway. I believe there is an ansible in B-95a3 but not another until Dead Drop itself since the navy took the one down in Dd001ns."

"We're going to Dead Drop not SNHH?"

"Aye. SNHH can be bypassed, it seems the powers that be agreed with me finally on that. Dead Drop will be tricky. Garth I hear is a mess. Make sure you draw briefs on both. We may find ourselves moving on to Garth as well."

"Understood sir."

"Then let's get moving."

He frowned though. He'd gotten his command ship but the Cadre were delayed. Pity about that. He might see them catch up and pass his unit in transit or they might follow him in. Hopefully he'd get to see his old friends soon.

-~~~///^\\\~~~-

Dead Drop

 

Engineering Commodore I'r'll turned all four of her eye stalks on the planet Dead Drop below. The Horathians hadn't left her much to work with. She'd done what she could in Second Fleet's absence though. A modest orbital industry had replaced what had been scuttled. Three stations were in orbit of the planet. Satellites covered the planet and star system. Her people had just put the finishing touches on a basic repair slip. Their supply of fuel was assured by a trio of gas giant refinery platforms and a fuel depot in orbit of the gas giant. A second was currently being built in orbit of Dead Drop itself.

When the Veraxin finished processing her files she read the report on the battle once more. Garth's infrastructure had been shredded but there was still a lot left including lunar colonies. A lot of what the Horathians had rebuilt had been taken intact. There were also ships there to rebuild. She decided a move to Garth made sense, it made a better location for a naval base since it was on the front-line. There was nothing much for her to work with in Dead Drop. She got clearance from the Admiralty to change her station and put a call in to the courier that they would have a few extra passengers for their return journey.

-~~~///^\\\~~~-

First Lieutenant Salim Red read the change of station orders and then sat back heavily. So, that was it. Commodore I'r'll was abandoning Dead Drop to go to Garth and better pickings there. In a way he wished her the best of luck. Unfortunately, it left him and his command rather high and dry.

Oh, they'd still get support, and, according to a recent copy of the shipping schedule General Pendeckle and Colonels Bear and Aberdy were en route with their divisions to relieve him. The Army's Sixth and Seventh Divisions were en route as well. General Kodiak and Fourth Division were en route but they would most likely pass through Dead Drop on their way to Garth. That was good. But it meant he was all alone until the calvary turned up.

The good news was that the intel from the Neos and the Rainbow resistence cell had allowed his small scratch force of Marines to take out a lot of the organized Horathian resistance. They had some issues in the cities and towns but there were no signs of organized resistance in the hinterlands.

Of course, that was usually when all things went to hell. And, when word of the navy's pulling out got to the natives, they'd certainly have an excuse to get restless. The locals who had been won over to their side would get justifiably nervous. The supporters of the Horathians might get embolden to try something frisky.

He wrote a note to his people warning them of that. Not that they wouldn't figure it out on their own.

-~~~///^\\\~~~-

Blockade Snippet 2

Sitrep:
Up to chapter 39 in We the People.

   For those of you asking what that is, We the People is Founding of the Federation 6. It is the beginning of the Federation and the lead in to the Hyperspace War. (the follow up book)
I'm freewheeling it for the most part. Lots of threads running around, nothing has come together yet. Lots of tie-ins to short stories. I'm trying to strike a balance with them which isn't easy.

I'll do a better write up later. :)

On to the Snippet!

Chapter 2

 

Garth

 

In the 2 months since the last battle, Vice Admiral Amadeus White had done his best to consolidate his forces and resupply them as well as the forces of Fifth Fleet. The fleet train had yet to arrive, it would be another 2 months before they got to him.

They were making the best out of it though. The ship crews were even making headway on some of the easier repairs. Every warship had internal replicators, spare parts, and engineers willing to use both to set their ships right. But they were stymied by large projects. And that didn't even cover the mess of captured ships or the 4 ships from TF 2.4 that had been crippled. Their surviving crews were still being sorted out. Those that had returned to duty had been transferred to other ships in the fleet.

TF 2.4 was a shadow of it's former self. He should by rights dissolve the unit and fold them into the others but he'd backed the surviving captains insistence on staying the course. On the books 6 ships remained in the task force so it was still viable... even if only 2 ships, an Arboth and a Resolution were manned at the moment.

Fifty-six ships in the Stennis convoy had made a mess of things for him. The courier and 8 freighters had escaped. Seven of the 47 warships had survived the battle with TF 2.4. The Nimitz class carrier Stennis was currently being used as a prison barge. Several people had put in a request for the ship once proper prison facilities were erected on the ground or elsewhere.

So, 16 ships that were empty and lifeless. Six of them were still coming in to the inner star system. The rest had been placed in parking orbits together with Admiral V'r'z'll's Fifth Fleet. Four of the ships from the late Admiral Einezberg's command were what the engineers termed, 'iffy'.

TF 2.2 and TF 2.3 were sitting near the spreading wreckage from the battle at the H002 jump point, covering it while TF 2.1 continued to remain 1 AU back as a ready reserve. Eventually that spreading wreckage would be used to create defenses in the star system.

One group that wasn't with them were the Marines. He'd stripped out every Marine in Second Fleet and sent them to Fifth Fleet and the planet. They'd switched off control duties on Stennis with a selection of MPs from both fleets as well. MPs were handling some of the guard duties on some of the colonies as well.

He rubbed his chin. It still wasn't enough. Commander Briggs and his people had given them tons of information but they hadn't broken the back of the enemy's forces on the planet. It was going to take more time, more pressure, and more importantly, more manpower and weapons to do the job.

He had recommended Renee for a Medal of Valor for her sacrifice. It was the least he could do for her and Trajin.

-~~~///^\\\~~~-

Rear Admiral V'r'z'll still didn't understand why Commander Briggs refused to take the military governorship of the planet. He certainly acted as the planet's leader but seemed reluctant to take on the mantle.

Her fleet was busy making good on their repairs while also performing ground bombing and reconnaince missions. She'd wondered why Admiral White had set things up that way, once the Marines had engaged she'd finally understood and agreed with the division of labor.

Her negotiations with the enemy's Captain Ozman had ended abruptly. She had no idea if the human female had been killed or not.

She turned two of her 4 eyestalks to Stennis. She longed to put the ship back in service, this time fighting for the right side. The engineers weren't sure about how much it would take to put the carrier back into service. Most of her forces had been decimated too, not that she'd want her pilots to fly such deathtraps.

The next largest ship to survive was a Derfflinger class battle cruiser. The late Commodore Mayweather's people had done a bang up job beating the rest of Stennis's battle line into wreckage but they'd had a few that had gotten off more lightly than others. That and a Derfflinger was a tough customer to kill completely without getting a nuke into her guts. She was battered though, and her sister ships had been turned into wreckage.

She had no idea what the Admiralty would plan to do with the ships. Most likely they would be patched up enough to be able to jump and then sent back to Antigua to be rebuilt. She hoped the carrier would stay but it wasn't her decision.

Pity about that.

-~~~///^\\\~~~-

Agent N'gumo grimaced as the patrol passed. He had to be casual, you couldn't give yourself away by reacting to the Marines too much. Yes they expected some fear and dirty looks, but dropping down was dangerous.

So was acting too nonchalantly though. Which was why he was trying to find the right balance. Fortunately, the enemy was trying to bribe the population with giveaways of food as well as free medical clinics.

He had passed on them as potential targets but so far General K had refused them. He wasn't sure what the General was waiting for. He knew the importance of getting information... was he going to set up a patsy to make a strike to gauge the enemy's responses? He hoped so, though he hoped he wasn't the fool the General dangled out on a limb to get the information.

He wasn't sure he was alive. He had no clue. He'd been wounded three times but had so far survived. He'd narrowly missed getting killed by 3 KEW and 2 drone strikes. Some Horathians saw him as lucky.

He just wanted to find a way to hit back and really hurt the enemy. Somehow, someway he would hopefully get his chance before his ticket came up.

-~~~///^\\\~~~-

Okay, the whole blog refusing to change the font color is getting OLD.  >:P

Blockade Snippet 1

Sitrep:
   I finished Act II of We the People and I'm taking today off. I'd planned to get some projects done but Dad's still under foot. (no pun intended) And, I did something to my left ankle a few days ago and it is apparently not getting better. I don't like putting weight on it. Ugh. (I keep aggravating it when I exercise I guess)

   I sent Blockade to Rea last night. Given that today and Sunday are holidays I don't expect it back from her until near the end of the month. So, expect the book to be published in early May.

On to the Snippet!

Act I

Chapter 1

Executioner H002 star system

 

The elderly white haired human tucked his hands behind his back as he heard the latest report. He was intensely grateful for some good news. He knew he wasn't the only one.

Once they'd fallen back he'd started to loose hope that they'd outrun the enemy. After all, the enemy was much faster than his wounded ships were in hyperspace. But it was not to be. There was no sign of the Federation Navy. None.

Or, they were laying in wait in hyperspace and had somehow obscured their ion trail. He couldn't put anything past them at this point.

The escape from Garth had been brutal. The only reason he'd gotten anything out was because he'd been leery about engaging the enemy and had retreated. That they'd anticipated that retreat was a bit humiliating. Only the running engagement, the decimation of his fighters, along with constant retacking to alter their course had allowed them to escape.

Decimation of his fighters again, he reminded himself.

"No sign of the enemy. No recent ion trails in the area, no sign of the enemy. It looks like they didn't follow us," Lieutenant Myron Chekov, his staff tactical officer stated. Myron looked haggard despite being in a clean uniform and having adequate sleep since the battle.

"That's good news," Admiral Cyrano De Gaulte said quietly. "We live on to fight another day," he murmured.

His command had been hammered by the enemy. There were plenty of words to describe it, he just didn't want to use them. The only thing he could hope for at this point was to get them home so they could pass on the hard lessons they'd learned to those who would ultimately replace them.

He'd sent a ship ahead with word but it wasn't enough.

"Sir, the convoy is approaching, shall we have them heave to so they can resupply us?"

The admiral thought about it for a few seconds but then shook his head. He didn't like being vulnerable. "No, I want to put some distance between us and the jump point to Garth. Have them lay in a course to come along beside us. We'll do what we can about replenishing while underway. If there is no sign of the enemy we'll spend a day or two at the jump point making what repairs we can," the admiral ordered.

"Aye aye sir."

"Sir," he turned to Sedric. "Sir, we just got an updated shipping schedule from the convoy. They are asking about the Stennis convoy. I've got the details..." the Intelligence officer held out a tablet.

Cyrano reluctantly took it and scanned it. He didn't want to, but he forced himself to read it. So, reinforcements had been coming but they'd arrived late. No doubt he'd passed them in hyper. "Order a messanger buoy to be put out. Order all convoys to stop and turn around," he said as he scanned the document again.

On the third read he closed his eyes in pain at the news. "There is nothing we can do for them."

"Hopefully they can get out," Berney said. Commander Berney Yashanaka was the admiral's chief of staff. He looked haggard. They all did. It wasn't the first retreat they'd been on but it was most likely their last. They were being forced back to their homeworld.

Myron had half heartedly put forth the idea of setting up an ambush in the empty star system. But it was wasted breath. Their ships needed too many repairs, they needed too many supplies. The Federation would just roll right over them. Besides, there was little to nothing to use in each of the empty star systems. That was 1 reason why the empire just passed right through them.

In other words, he couldn't fight a fighting withdrawl. As much as he'd like to it would be a death sentence for the remaining ships.

"Hopefully. Hope is in scarce supply at the moment," Sedrick stated.

Myron frowned. The protracted battle had been brutal. He wasn't the only one despondent over it. The admiral had been gentle about the hot-wash they'd performed on the first day in hyper but he couldn't help but feel like he was going through the motions.

"I have that course for you sir," Jeremy stated holding out a tablet.

"Pass it on to the other ships and then get us underway. I want us clear of the jump point as soon as possible," the admiral growled.

-~~~///^\\\~~~-

Berney grimaced as the meeting broke up. Apathy and low morale were prevalent throughout the ship and most likely the fleet. Or, what was left of the tattered fleet, he reminded himself.

Myron was taking the brunt of it. He could see that the younger man was taking their repeated drubbings personally. On some level he wanted to agree, he wanted someone to blame. But it wasn't Myron's fault.

Each time things seemed to be picking up they got the rug pulled out from under them and another drubbing. It was wearing on everyone heavily. He'd heard a few of the medics muttering about battle fatigue.

He shook his head. They needed to find something to do, some way to turn it around. He was afraid though that once they returned to Horath they'd be seized as scapegoats.

Well, there was one thing going for them there though, they wouldn't have to worry about carrying the burden on their shoulders anymore, he thought.

-~~~///^\\\~~~-

Blockade

Sitrep: I'm waiting on the last of the feedback from the remaining Betas before I send Blockade off to Rea. Wayne will gladly tell you it is brutal. :)

In other news, I just finished the first act of We the People and shot it off to him today. I'm hoping to finish it by the end of the month.

I tried my new 3D pen this afternoon... it is... interesting. I need a lot more practice with it obviously. I also realized it is designed like most objects, for someone who is right handed. (I'm left handed) That might be an issue.

In other news I received an interview request today, I am having problems with Spectrum and my phone so I just found it. I accidentally erased the message. Oops? I'm a chatty talker but not thrilled about being cold called anyway.

And finally, the cover of Blockade:

Shiver Me Timbers is publishing now!

That's right, I received SMT from Goodlifeguide.com last night and here we go, book 46!

   Commodore Shelby Logan was tapped to lead an expedition into the neighboring Tau sector. Over the course of several years her convoy made their way to the heart of the sector, fighitng off pirates and plague to establish a new sector capital. But, once established they found that they were next door to the pirate capital. They had to fight off a brutal attack. Now Commodore Helen Richards leads a relief team of medics to deal with the plague so Commodore Logan can focus on other matters.

And she has 1 in her sights. The pirates are going to learn the real reason they say...

Shiver Me Timbers!

I'll post the links when they go live.

Edit:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07PPJJKQM

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1130913253?ean=2940161176306

SMT snippet 5

I think it's 5.... lol Sorry, been distracted.

Anyway sitrep:
-Dad is being sprung from the hospital as I type this. They are just waiting on paperwork. He's got 1 less toe but he's eager to get out to get a shower. lol

-I just sent Shiver Me Timbers to Goodlifeguide.com for final formatting.

-I am nearly done Act II of Blockade. 1 chapter left. I've been procrastinating a little about it.

And on to the snippet!

Chapter 4

 

Pell looked at his team. He'd managed to keep a solid core of people together, all humans of course. That sucked but it was what it was. They'd even pulled in some toughs and retirees and put them back in uniform. When things had started sliding further and further south, they'd put any volunteer they could get into uniform—even ship's police that had been trapped on the station when the base had been quarantined.

At this point any volunteer was welcome if they could keep a straight face and stand a post. But it was getting tough out there; he knew that.

Which was why he was starting to pull his best and put them in armor. He didn't have a lot of armor, but what he had he fully intended to use to crack heads and make some examples. Only when the survivors were cowed would they get order fully restored.

He grimaced at the sight of the bodies. Some were being spaced, but some were piling up. There were so many … and the pickpockets rifling the dead were terrible. He turned away, turning a blind eye on images of people rifling the dead and dying rather than trying to help—sick, just sickening.

But, oh so normal for his people he thought as sighed mentally.

<()>^<()>

Troy, Sammy, and Ned all looked on to the people around them. “I'm telling you, this shit is crazy,” Ned murmured.

“Crazy doesn't cover it,” Sammy said with a grimace. Both he and Ned worked the ports moving cargo. In their off time, they occasionally worked the back alleys of Tortuga looking for “spare change,” their euphemism for mugging drunks.

Troy Nakumora grunted. He had helped them shanghai a few people, press-ganging them into service of one ship or another. He'd done it because he'd been in too deep to refuse … and because he'd been afraid of what the two would do to him had he backed out.

He'd also had heard about what had happened to Burke and a few of the others who were in Sammy and Ned's line of work. Only the fact that the duo hadn't broken into the late Doctor Wilhelm's market just yet and that they'd led the mob to string up Burke had kept their hands clean.

And now they were doing their best to play the part of innocent people trapped in the situation. For the most part, that was true.

For someone like him, someone whose mother had been a dancer and a slave brought to Tortuga for “entertainment,” to get out of the slave pits and gladiator arena alive was a very special achievement. It had, in some part, been due to his late father's will. His late father had apparently genuinely loved his mother Natasha and had left his booty to her to take care of her and Troy when he was gone.

When his mother had died, he'd tried to gamble the dwindling savings and had lost it all. So, he'd been working odd jobs and keeping one step ahead of people like Sammy and Ned ever since.

“I think the admiral has a plan. We've got the plagues contained, right?” Ned asked as he took a sip of tepid beer. Where he'd gotten it was a mystery to Troy. Ned wasn't apparently in the mood to share his stash or secret.

“Yeah, for the moment,” Sammy said darkly. Order was breaking down in parts of Tortuga far more than usual. There were a lot less people of course. The remains of the shore patrol were not above cracking heads if someone got too uppity with them. But they were turning a blind eye to crime. “But if you think the admiral's going to save us I want some of whatever you are drinking,” he said with a shake of his head. “Keep dreaming.”

“There has to be a plan. Even if there isn't, we're all human,” Troy said looking at the others. “We're immune. We can ride it out and then clean up.”

“You really think they'll reopen the port once the only ones left are humans?” Ned asked. He looked over to Sammy. “I'm telling you, we need to find someone who can fly a shuttle and get the hell out of here.”

“And go where?”

“We're humans so we're immune, right? We let the ships out there know and someone's bound to take us in! We pack it with enough people; maybe sweeten the deal with some geegaws and booty.”

Troy shook his head and threw his hands up as he walked away. “You two do what you want.”

“You ain't in?”

“Nah. I'll come up with my own thing. I need to do some checking first,” Troy said as he walked off shaking his head.

<()>^<()>

SMT Snippet 4

Sitrep: Dad apparently glossed over his X-ray report. The infection did get to the bone. The surgeon talked him into amputating his toe which is happening Friday. :P
He's okay, they actually found a bed that fits him. (barely) but he's so bored he's starting to climb the walls.

Anyway, on to the snippet:

Chapter 3

Tortuga

 

Doctor Sho and the senior staff held a brief consultation over a meal. It was a grim meeting. They went over the symptomology of each plague and how to diagnose and treat it for each species. Many were common treatments. Most were fairly basic; bed rest was all they could do. They were reduced to what most medics were, people who could help the body heal but were at times like this, bystanders.

Helpless bystanders sometimes.

“We're so screwed,” a nurse murmured.

Doctor Sho glared at her. The woman was tired, she had circles under her eyes and her hair was a mess. So was her outfit, someone had barfed on her. She was punch drunk honest. He had to admit, they were on borrowed time. At least some were more than others.

“No, they are, the poor devils,” an orderly said. Doctor Sho's head swiveled to him. It was only then that he realized most of the people in the room were human or chimera. Had he not noticed the other medics had dropped one by one? He kicked himself for that. “What do we do? There is no way we can lick this, not all of them at once! They are dropping like flies out there! I think someone said there are a dozen or more viruses and bacteria? And quarantining the entire sector and having us on our own life support is having us stew in our own juices!”

“Did we get the entire package or just a few? Can we get a list and start treating now? Is environmental doing their part? Flushing the system? We are on our own life support right like you said George?” the head nurse asked. She was nervous; she had gotten a bad bruise from a chimp who'd grabbed her arm. The wrist might be sprained or worse. She had an ice pack on the wrist but refused to let anyone check it.

“Now you know what I meant about screwed. It's a simple matter of someone turning off the life support,” the pessimistic nurse said with a shake of her head.

“Can that,” Doctor Sho growled. Privately he had to admit they had little chance against the plagues. But that didn't stop them from being duty bound to try. Duty bound and bound by the Admiral looking over their shoulder.

“Okay, we need to work on both avenues. And we need to triage. Diagnose early and begin treatment. We have oxygen treatment for those who have gotten hit with pneumonia or such, work with that for some of the early stage. Those who are infectious we'll have to isolate further to halt the spread of contamination. Get the lab on cultures; we need a better idea of what we're dealing with.”

“Understood doctor,” another doctor said, grasping at Doctor Sho's sign of leadership desperately like it was a life line. Which it was. They all knew they couldn't panic or give in.

“Doctor! We've got ten more coming in! And we're low on dressing! And the sewer system is backed up, I think there is something wrong with environmental! A low ranking orderly pressed into a nursing position said, coming in to the office.

“Okay, we'll get on it,” Doctor Sho said with a nod. “Get someone looking into those things. Any human in quarantine with us is hereby drafted.”

“You mean press ganged?” the head nurse asked, lips quivering.

“Whatever,” the head doctor stated. “Use them. Have them change bedding, move patients, play gopher, whatever they can handle.” The nurse grimaced but nodded. “Make sure everyone eats and stay hydrated. Naps, no more than four hours in shift. I'll work on the roster once we have this under control...”

If we can ever get it under control he thought tiredly. He knew he wasn't going to be much good to anyone if he drove himself into fatigue and exhaustion.

<()>^<()>

Captain Gutt heard the chatter behind him and grimaced. He could see the fear in the eyes of his crew, smell it in the air despite everything the techs were trying to do to get it out. And he was an ape, so his sniffer wasn't as acute as one in a mutt or cat.

Sucks to be them he thought in amusement at their plight.

“Well, I can safely say for once that I'm glad we're not in the thick of things,” he growled. “Right?” he asked, pitching his voice to his bridge crew.

Heads turned and then immediately began to nod in earnest.

“Good then. Get a status report on the picket ships. Let's get that mangy lot sorted out. I want a proper picket of the jump point by the time we get there!” he growled. “Let them know we mean business! The admiral sent us to the jump point to put some spine in them. The first to flinch gets keelhauled maties!” he growled, eyes glittering as he showed off his horrible teeth in a malicious grin.

There were a series of guttural growls from the crew. He waited the Yar's out. Some were token, but he didn't care. They'd come around. Hell for anyone who came down with a sniffle in the next week or so. They'd be out the nearest lock faster than they could blink.

But he left unsaid that he was indeed glad to be far away from Tortuga. Very far away.

<()>^<()>

SMT snippet 3

First up, sitrep:
  I'm getting ready to go visit my dad in the hospital this morning. He was admitted yesterday after his foot and toe swelled up and his cut burst. I don't know how long he or I will be there. (his record is 9 days) I'm still furious over the stupidity of it all. (it's an infection in a cut on his toe) He doesn't have sepsis, it is a surface infection in the cut only, not past the epidermis but they are insisting he stay overnight and see a disease specialist and surgeon again. They keep trying to get him to slice off a chunk or amputate his entire toe and then spend 6 weeks+ recovering 'just as a precaution.'

It was a 1/4 inch long cut he made by accidentally going to deep into the cuticle while trimming his nail. The podiatrist opened it up to 1/2 inch a month ago while cleaning it. They want to slice off a large chunk and leave it raw to heal. That is just stupid.

  Dad goofed on the meds for it, he was taking them 1 a day a week 4-5 days a week with food when you are supposed to take it 2x a day on an empty stomach.  (I looked it up yesterday) Sigh. (I'm going to kick his ass for that one, and yes I can get my foot that high) He was also laid up with a cold or something and the longer he lays down the more likely his feet swell and the more likely he'll feel like crap.

  They are getting carried away. He's passed every test they've thrown at him, blood, x-ray, and ultrasound. All clean. They can't find anything wrong other than the surface damage but still insist on this course of treatment. They point to the irritation, swelling, and inflammation. I'm glad I wasn't there, (I stayed home, I wasn't feeling good and I was furious) I would have pointed out that they kept ripping the bandage off and then poking it 15+ times in a single day! Of course it's irritated and bleeding when you pull the scab off each time! DUH! He also takes forever to heal (Peripheral Neuropathy and Diabetes) and his being on blood thinners so that's not helping either!

The doctor said last week it was much better and half way healed when he checked. Now this crap. Sigh.

  Needless to say he and the rest of us are a tad stressed. (I've been getting calls and texts from upset family wanting to know what's going on. My sister has been too) I had another restless night which isn't helping my mood. My poor sister was with him until 10pm last night.

  He's also bigger than me, 6'8" and they make beds to 6 foot. That means the bed is extraordinarily uncomfortable. They can't figure that out. He's probably aching badly too. (they are also overbooked and tried to put him in the hallway overnight but found a room around 8pm) They take that as a symptom and not due to their stupidity.
  They also don't serve meals at proper times, dinner for instance isn't until 9-10pm when he's normally asleep so he's mad...and won't eat... which makes him fatigued and nauseated which they see on his vitals and justify holding him longer. GRR. If they saw my vitals they'd stick me in a rubber room!

The last time he was in the hospital he was in County. He was so miserable he just started to shut down. They put him in ICU due to his Afib. I tried to sleep in 1 of those horrible chairs for seven days. We had to fight with them to get him out. Once he was out he ate a solid meal (I'm not a great cook but he still loved it over the cold rubber crap they had) and he bounced back within hours.

So, yeah, I'm primed for a blow. Hopefully venting like this will help.... nope! GRRR. still fuming.

Anyway, on to the snippet:

Chapter 2

 

Tortuga

 

Zumika made it through the press of people to the lock and hefted his bag. There were a lot of panicked people, everyone suddenly wanted off. He'd heard rumors of the plague.

When he got to the lock he noted the shore patrol. He went to the lock and held up his bag and pointed to his face. “Bosun Cheny told me to get my gear! I'm here! Let me in!”

A face on the other side of the stained glass just shook his head.

“Why?”

“Move along. Admiral Ishmael his own self-ordered a quarantine,” the guard said gruffly. Zumika turned to him in shock.

“Are you serious?”

“Aye. Be off with ye before I use you for batting practice,” the human guard growled, fingering his neural baton.

Zumika flinched. He was well aware of what a prod could do from one of those things. “Aye, I be on my way. But I...”

He stopped at the steel eye of the other man. Obviously there was no reasoning with him. “Aye,” he said, shoulders slumping as he turned and walked back the way he came slowly.

He kicked himself for being a fool. If he'd had his bag packed he would have been gone. And if he hadn't stopped for one last drink...

Well, the good news was that if they did have the plague as a human he was immune he thought as he stomped back the way he'd come, brusquely shouldering smaller people out of his way as he did.

“Hey! I know you! You're Zumika!” A voice said. He turned in annoyance and surprise.

“Do I know you matey?”

“Aye, I thought so!” The guy pointed to Zumika, eyes hard in accusation. “That's the guy! He helped the Horathians! He met with that Captain Layafette! He helped them! He's one of them!” the voice said, practically rising in a bellow as heads turned.

Zumika saw the angry sea of faces and bolted. When the ranks closed around him he tried to swing his bag and use it as a battering ram to get through.

He didn't get far. He whimpered as the pitiless hands and boots of the mob descended on him.

<()>^<()>

Doctor White snarled tiredly when he got the report he'd been expecting. He'd been going through the notes from the Horathians over the past twenty hours. There had been no mention of a cure or vaccine. Most of what was mentioned about a cure was how to prevent one.

He closed his eyes in pain. He was tired, achy, and he felt a bit feverish. No doubt he had been infected. Medics always had the highest risk of infection; after all they had to go and diagnose someone and sometimes went in blindly to do so. He was paying for his vocation.

Paying dearly, he thought as he shook his head to the worried looking guards and lab tech on the other end of the video chat. But he needed to keep up appearances for morale's sake. He needed to lead by example even though he wanted to curl up with a bottle of hot toddy and blow his brains out. He definitely didn't want to spend the next few hours coughing his lungs out as mucus filled them.

“It's not your fault. Not any of our faults really. Well, if anyone's mine for not getting the damn cure! But that's over and done with now. We need to find out what we can. We need to know how deep this goes,” he said firmly. He felt the back of his throat tickle. He felt a cough rising and sternly suppressed it.

It wouldn't be long though, he knew. “Okay, I'm going to be sitting here working on the database to find what I can. I need you to run samples of that syringe,” he said firmly to the wide eyed lab tech. The human tech was in hazmat gear. That was something at least. “I'm going to pass over medical command to Doctor Sho,” he said as he felt a presence loom behind him. He turned to the human doctor. “It's the plague,” he said by way of confirmation. “And I've got it. No doubt many of us do,” he said.

Doctor Sho's eyes went wide briefly before his professionalism kicked in. He nodded once. “What do we do sir?”

“I'll wear a mask. I'm going to do a bit of research,” Doctor White said as he rummaged in his office for a sample kit. He coughed into his fist and then rubbed the mess onto a culture dish. He washed his hands and then leaned tiredly against the counter. “We'll need blood cultures too so we can get a timeline progression of the spread of the plagues.”

“Understood.”

“Get us a list of what's in that cocktail Rob,” the Neogorilla doctor snarled, turning back to the video feed.

“I'll try sir but I'm just a basic lab tech. I don't know how to recognize what I'm looking at,” the human said worriedly.

“Just do your best. Keep the computer open and run an image comparison if you have to. Call Doctor Sho too.”

“Yes sir.”

“Keep us posted. Now get to work. Use the lab there. The guards need to set up a perimeter and a decontamination system. I think there is one there.”

“Yes sir. It was broken though.”

“Have someone fix it. And have that same someone figure out how it works so we can replicate it. Something tells me we're going to need to do so real soon.”

“Yes sir.” the image in the lab winked out.

The gorilla turned tiredly and looked at the human doctor. “I'll stay on my feet and do what I can with the most infected. Find a damn cure.” His voice was leached of emotion. They both knew the chances of that. And they both knew the chances of a cure coming in time to help those who had been initially infected.

Especially in a cocktail of biological weapons designed to be hard or impossible to stop.

Doctor Sho nodded anyway. He knew he was in over his head but he knew the proper response and so went with it anyway. “Yes sir. I'll do my best.”

“Hell with that, I've seen your best. Do better. We need a real miracle here.”

<()>^<()>