Lost - Part 1

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   “mmnyh”

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    “Uhh...wha?”

    Bubbabumpbubbabumpbubbabump
    "Wher-?"
    All at once, reality seemed to explode into existence in a flash of pain and sound and smoke. Cecilia's senses burned and she found herself on the ground, clutching ribs that were alight in agony and seemed to have a bit more give than regular, non-broken bones should have.
    Around her, the world wailed.
    A klaxon screamed its warning for all who would hear, barely drowning out the sound of men and women screaming, boots stomping on hard metal, pulse rifles firing, sounding like a jackhammer on a steel drum, and the roar of something monstrous and unknown in the distance. All of it was muffled even more by the crackling booming of fire.
    She sat up quickly and screamed.
    "Ellen?! Kera?!"
    She couldn't remember what happened or how she got here, but she knew she wanted to find her sisters and quickly. Had they been with her? Were they ok?
    It didn't matter though. She had bigger issues.
    All around her, an inferno raged. The fire licked at her skin and she had no idea how to get away from it. Each time she breathed in her lungs were being seared with smoke and she felt herself coughing and hacking; an action that was getting progressively faster and therefore worse as she began to hyperventilate. The world seemed to close in around her as the panic threatened to send her over the edge.
    "ELLEN?! KERA?!"
    tunktunktunktunk!
    Someone running towards her?
    "Ma'am!" a voice screamed barely audible over the roar of the fire. "This way! Come this way! We have to get you out of here!"
    A marine.
    "I can't!" she said quickly, the panic only taking a firmer grip. "I-I can't!"
    It was all she could muster. The world burned with fire between them.
    "You have to! Come on! Please! Just run towards me. Run as fast as you can. I'll be here to catch you!"
    Her throat tightened and, despite the blazing inferno around her, Cecilia's palms went cold and sweaty. She shut her eyes tight.
    "Alright." she said, her shaking voice betraying her. "On three."
    "On three." the marine agreed.
    "One." she began.
    "Two."
    Before she could muster a 'Three' there was an echoing crash and a screeching roar as the metal of the hall bent and screamed in defiance of a preternatural force. The marine screamed back, firing the pulse rifle at something. They were silenced a moment later and all fear of fire was wiped away as the marine was slammed into Cecilia's chest, thrown like a ragdoll, sending them both sprawling backwards. The combined force and weight sent them clean past the flames and down a chasm that was open in the floor.
    Cecilia hit the ground below with a sobbing cry as the marine, dead weight, crushed her with their bulk; broken ribs burned and stabbed in protest of the pressure.
    "Get off!" she yelled and pushed against the dead marine. "Please get off!"
    Above her, she could hear the thing. It scrabbled and moved across the metal of the hall above with the sound of someone raking a dozen pickaxes against a grated chalkboard. It seemed to blend into a terrible crescendo of oncoming death with the klaxon as she desperately clawed at the body that weighed her down.
    She kept pushing, kept trying to get the corpse off of her shattered ribs and weak body. She felt the load soften slightly as the heavy pulse rifle clattered down next to her.
   The creature was just crawling through chasm she had fallen through, growling softly under the klaxon and the claws, when she managed to free herself from under the dead marine and scuttled backwards in terror.
    Cecilia only escaped back an inch or two before she hit the wall.
    Above, the creature seemed to realize she was trapped. It made its way slowly, carefully, down to the next level; it's growl growing into twittering, high pitch that reminded her of a cat stalking a bird.
    She shut her eyes tight, sobbing.
    Her hands fell to the pulse rifle on the ground beside her.
    She had never used one before. No official training of any kind. But she knew the concept of a gun. You point it at something and pull the trigger. Hopefully you have the right end pointed towards what you want to die. 
    The creature roared. Maybe it recognized the threat of the gun. Maybe it was just done playing with her. It scrabbled forward with that same high-pitched, gut wrenching sound of claws on metal.
    Cecilia grabbed the weapon's stock, raised the gun, and squeezed the trigger; praying it was even vaguely pointed in the right direction.
    Pulse rifle's are so much louder when you're the one firing them.

Reading between the Lines

Hello Lovelies,

Today I wanted to take a moment and talk about the importance of subtext and giving a story a purpose. In short, what is it that you really want your story to say.

To clarify, this was actually something I had a huge issue with in writing early on and is still something that challenges me to this day. However, giving your story subtext, a moral, or a meaning to the overall is what makes the difference between a story and simply imagining/fantasizing on paper. A story provides a goal or a narrative whereas fantasy is just that: the ideal wanderings of the mind. Allow me to give you an example that strikes close to home.

Consider Xenophobia. The original concept behind Xenophobia was just meant to be a little 'twist'. It was meant to describe this horrible place that just sounds monstrous and frightening but then the 'twist' was to reveal that we were actually talking about humans/Earth. While the concept is fun and the 'twist' is little more than shock-value silliness, there really isn't much else THERE. It's just meant as a quick, idle fantasy.

On the other-hand, where the story WENT is another matter all together (and the reason the beginning of the book is taking so much to re-write.) The story started to become an examination of human political behavior and is meant to reflect very real actions that are being taken today. You have people just sitting back and watching. You have people moving to war on grounds of fear and misunderstanding. You have people standing up in battles who were never invited and you have people who are just there to watch and amuse themselves.

With this in mind, a solid story will always involve some deeper meaning. It will allow a person to 'read between the lines'. Part of what personally helped me was a friend's recommendation.

 "Anytime you watch a movie or read a book, try to figure out what the story

it ACTUALLY about? What is it telling you? What is the 'purpose' behind it?"

It was honestly a great exercise. It allows you to look at literature and entertainment with a whole different light and apply that seem concept to writing. If you're not able to apply a meaning and you don't know what you're actually telling your audience, why ever would someone bother reading it?

This isn't to say that every book out there needs to be the Odyssey and not every writer needs to be Shakespeare, but having a purpose behind your writing, a goal for the narrative, will give your story more substance. It will draw you away from the amateur habit of just writing endless description and either too much action or dialogue. Instead, it will focus you.

You could probably find thousands of ideas, however here are some ideas for morals and purposes:
 -  "Don't make a big deal about a minor problem."
 -  "The fallout of a lie may be worse than accepting responsibility for the truth."
 -  "A new friend may be worth more than an old one."
 -  "Don't bite the hand that feeds you."
 -  "It is not only fine feathers that make a fine bird."
 -  "Anger is a fire that burns all, friend and foe alike."
 -  "Necessity is the mother of invention."
 -  "Pride goes before the fall."
 -  "Misfortune provides insight as those those you should trust."
 -  "Deeds speak louder than words."
 -  "The power of one falls short of the power of many."
 -  "The wealthy are only as rich as how they use their wealth."

I hope this inspired some of you. Do you have any good ideas for morals or purposes? Share in the comments below for everyone to enjoy!

Follow Up: Religion in Space

Hello Lovelies,

So, after some heated discussion with someone, I realized that I might need to add some clarification to my last post regarding religion in space. While I won't go into the finer details, the essence of the conversation went about like this...

"Why in the HELL are you talking about people's religions?! You have
 a writing blog! Stick to your stupid little stories and don't pick fights!"

While this is not the direct quote, this is definitely the gist of what started the conversation. With that said, allow me to clarify.

I run a writing blog. I live under the belief that any topic within human existence can be focused on in writing. How they are handled will naturally be up to the author and based on the author the approach can be well-done or it can be offensive. The existence of a subject should not be a reason to start a fight with someone.

The fact that Muslim individuals might face an odd circumstance based on a currently followed belief is not trying to pick on Muslims. The face that Christian individuals are currently the most commonly represented religions in most science fiction novels/books/movies is not trying to pick on Christians. Pointing out observations and considerations is not attempting to be bigotted. Only applying hateful thoughts to those works is.

With that said, allow me to answer the first part of the question, "Why?" Religion, at least within our current context, is a huge part of human culture. It exists. Whether you consider one, some, all, or none to be good or bad, it exists. And, as it exists, it very well may be a source of inspiration for some people in their writing. Personally, I haven't chosen to focus too heavily on the topic in my own writing because I haven't had a story come to heart that was inspired by the topic. But that doesn't mean if there's a potentially interesting idea I think it should simply be ignored.

In short, what I'm saying is to two fold. First, to the writers: don't censor yourself if you've got a story to tell and it might be a sensitive topic. People can and will find things to get angry about. Sometimes they're very justified. Sometimes they aren't.

Second, to those that were offended: I'm sorry you took it the wrong way. The act of addressing a concept, of talking about a thing that exists, is not hate. If I ever spoke in a demeaning or hateful fashion on this topic or any other, you're more than welcome to point it out. But the act of simply talking about a subject that some people aren't necessarily comfortable with, whether it's because you're for or against it, doesn't make that topic any less viable. Again, for the people in the back: acknowledging something's existence is not being hateful. So once more, I'm sorry we don't see eye to eye, but I don't believe in hiding from something like religion just because it's a touchy topic.

With that said, I'll get off my soap box. I'm hoping I didn't scare too many away, but I needed to say my peace. Whether it was meant that way or not, I don't take kindly to being bullied over what I originally thought of as a largely inoccuous and academically interesting concept.

I hope you have a pleasant day and will hopefully see you again soon.

Galactic Worship

Hello Lovelies,

I was recently reading an article with regards to the UAE considering building a city on Mars. While the consideration is definitely interesting and there were more than a few comments leaning to either side of the argument, one question that was asked grabbed my attention.

"How would Muslims in space face Mecca to pray?"

While I don't know if the question was asked out of venom and spite or if it was a genuine intellectual curiosity (as many, many individuals were taking their time to bash the UAE for nothing more than being non-American/non-Christian), it did raise a very real question for me. How would they? My understanding of the religion is that individuals must face Mecca while doing their prayers, so how would that work within the context of galactic travel and/or colonization of other planets within or outside of our given solar system.

Just dwelling on it, I imagine space travelers that are actively in a ship wouldn't really have an issue so long they're pointed in the right direction (provided they know what direction Earth is); but what about those colonists on another planet. Let's make the equation easy and say we're on Mars and Earth is directly 'above' us. What then? Does the individual find some inclined method to face our home planet or do they do something else?

This really got my brain buzzing about the possibility of different religions in space. Really thinking about it, the recurring religion portrayed in most Science Fiction movies, books, and games always seems to be Christianity. I'm not sure if this is out of ease or simply out of the commonality of the Christian faith.

Depending on what concept you follow, the concept of religion in space can go one of two ways. Some feel that religion will be done away with as man explores the stores; the need for belief in a high power stripped away by the intricacies of the universe. Otherwise argue the exact opposite: that being lost among the stars and seeing the wonders of space travel will only give birth to a belief that some larger force is at work.

While I won't raise the argument in either direction, it really does make me wonder how space travel and exploration would influence a given religion. Christians definitely seem the easiest to visualize overall, as they would basically just expand their faith to include that their God created all they see...no matter how vast or large. I imagine Muslims to be the same, but they obviously face the aforementioned prayer issue. The Jewish faith seems equally similar, only touted by the issue of 'don't light your minora on a spaceship'. All together, I think the Buddhist faith presents the most readily spaceworthy since they already acknowledge the existence of other worlds and yet they consider the existence of all worlds inconsequential in the great scheme of things.

All in all, this is little more than an open forum...a way to get your brain boiling for interesting concepts that might influence your own writing or creation.

What can you think of with any given religion that might present an interesting challenge or development based on space travel?

Planning for the Tour

Hello Lovelies,

With the end of the public chapter releases for Xenophobia, I want to start thinking towards the future. Whether it be six months or a year down the line, my thought process is now on a) finishing Xenophobia and its respective editing and rewrite; and b) planning how to release and sell the story.

I've done a number of other smaller short stories that have been released simply through the Kindle online store. However, I realize that this one definitely deserves more love than a few random tales (call it maturing as an author from scribbler to writer).

What I'd like instead is to go through the appropriate channels to garner viewership and readers. I've obviously already been getting feedback here and there from readers, but now I want eyes in a different way. Obviously I can do things like paid-for marketing, but I feel there's a much better opportunity through being able to speak to people who care about books and their content. Things like interviews and blog tours in the blogspot writer's community immediately come to mind.

With that said, I wanted to know if any of you have ever done something along that line. Have any of you ever done a blog tour? Or an interview? Or maybe something else that I'm not thinking of? For those that have, did you find them particularly useful or rewarding?

Right now I'm just trying to build a gameplan and I would love to hear your opinion and experiences, particularly from established writers (that's not to say I don't want to hear from our lovely serial readers as well!) Thank you, Lovelies~

- RB

Xenophobia - Chapter 25

    The old judge stood there quietly, his eyes playing across the council. He seemed as if he was thinking what to say but the words simply wouldn't come to him.
    Not thinking. Processing. Darrian thought to himself as if that distinction meant something.
    His gaze drifted back to the blank space where the hologram of the altered human had been before finally speaking.
    "Not that." he said with surprising softness in his tone.
    "Then what?" Ferris demanded, not nearly as harsh or aggressively as Illiquina before him, but plenty firm.
    The robot continued to look past the ambassadors as if he was seeing the images stilling playing out before him.
    "I'm not sure." he uttered quietly. "When I had originally considered the idea of the humans and Guillae interacting, I was deeply excited. I hadn't heard or remembered a water-based lifeform like humans interacting with the Guillae on a close personal level."
    Darrian felt a twinge of surprise.  
    Remembered? Shouldn't all of that information be stored? Flawless and infallible?
    "But with the Guillae's constant thirst for water...the way they absorb it, use it, and change it into something great and beautiful even if it's parasitic in nature..." the old judge continued. "I suppose I expected something a bit more elegant."
    "Symbiotic, perhaps." he said with an expression somewhere between sad smile and a frown of regret.
    A surprising emotional response for an automaton.
    "Why would you expect that, judge?" A'alan't 32 asked, her tone matching the softness in his.
    "I-I don't know." he responded, finally looking away from the blank air above the holographic imager to match gazes with A'alan't 32.
    "Strange for a 'bot to not understand." Ferris said in a derisive tone.
    "Enough." Ugul warned.
    "No. He's right." the old judge said quickly. "Upon closer examination, I'm confused by my own calculations."
    "What do you mean?" Darrian asked.
    "My belief was garnered from a preconceived consideration that the Guillae were a relatively peaceful species that were generally beneficial while unintentionally damaging." the old judge said with a glance towards Darrian.
    A'alant 32 and Darrian traded glances. They both looked surprised as, for the first time, this information sounded the same as to what A'alan't 32 had shared with him.
    "That flies in the face of everything you've ever told us about them." Ugul noted.
    The old judge's expression seemed to darken and go blank. Only his eyes twitched and shuddered. It was as if he were recollecting. Considering.
    "You're not wrong." he said after a few moments of silence.
    They looked around the table at each other. A'alan't 32 in particular looked surprised, if not distressed, and her full attention was on the old robot.
    "Ambassadors." the old judge said in a notably louder, more determined tone. "I must apologize to all of you. In my haste and excitement, my miscalculations may have lead to the death or worse of those humans. I may finally be reaching my termination date."
    Darrian sat back surprised at the blunt straightforwardness.
    "Why would you think that, judge?" A'alan't 32 questioned.
    "It's quite clear that I am missing previous variables. My thought process has produced faulty considerations regarding a clearly hostile race and my preconceived notions that something beneficial would occur has lead to deaths."
    "Sir. You've never given us the idea that the Guillae were anything but hostile." Darrian stated with as much control as he could muster in his voice. "Why would you have ever thought otherwise?"
    "More than that." A'alan't 32 quickly added. "You had no hand in the humans finding the Guillae body. Our single goal has been to research while maintaining the quarantine. Why would you think it was somehow your fault that the humans died?"
    One again, the judge seemed to stand still for a very long time. Thinking. Considering. Deciding.
    Processing.
    Finally, after an extended period of building silence, just as Darrian was considering to check if the robot had completely malfunctioned, the old judge responded.
    "Insufficient Data." the old judge said in the most robotic voice he had ever heard from the unit.
    The council just stared in shock.
    "My apologies." the old judge quickly added, regaining his normal tone. "Ambassadors. You must excuse me."
    He quickly began making his way towards the door before stopping briefly.
    "If you contact the Merrenian embassy, they may be able to acquire another intermediary on short notice. It would seem I must deal with whatever-Well. Whatever this is." he said apologetically.
    Before anyone could think of something to say, he was gone, leaving them sitting alone in an empty conference room wondering what had just happened.


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(Hello Lovelies. Hopefully I'm not saying too early, but 'there we go...getting back on track'. I also wanted to take a moment and say Thank you. I legitimately appreciate the kindness and well-wishing. While I wasn't looking for it, it certainly makes me feel warm inside and is comforting. Thank you.)

Xenophobia - Chapter 17

    "I don't understand." said Darrian in confusion. "What do you mean that the Guillae would work to the humans' benefit?"
    "Just that." A'alan't 32 stated. "The Guillae aren't some conquering race. They're little more than sentient plants. Their goal is to grow, not destroy."
    Darrian stared at her in disbelief, trying to put together what little that he'd heard before. He realized that this was next to nothing, with the exception that they tended to destroy any planet they inhabited for an extended period of time.
    That's when the question occurred to him.
    "Wait. How do you even know this?"
    "As I said," A'alan't 32 responded with that cautionary tone of annoyance he'd heard before. "I've been researching them since they were first mentioned."
    Darrian considered the silence he'd received from the old judge. The blank archive entries he'd found when he'd gone to investigate. The security clearance required when he asked about the hard copies of data.
    "I gave up looking after the first cycle." he admitted. "Where'd you find this supposed research?"
    Her expression softened and she appeared bemused.
    "I think you forget that I'm not bound to Consortium resources. My species was old when the Merrenians were first crawling about in the dirt. Long before you ever discovered robotics and even longer before you founded the little council we hold now."
    Ignoring what felt like an unnecessary jab at his species, Darrian asked, "So this is Bivvie knowledge then? Local archives or something?"
    A'alan't 32 nodded softly in agreement.
    "We've been studying the cosmos for a very long time." she said with a tone that showed there was no condescension; she was stating a cold, hard fact.
    Darrian studied her for a moment, choosing his words. He'd wondered about this creatures since they were first mentioned and here was a possible wellspring of knowledge. Yet...
    "Why didn't you bring this up earlier? When the old judge refused to answer."
    "For the same reason." she said. "If the old judge did not want to answer any questions, then I would imagine he wouldn't much like it if I shared what I knew."
    A bad feeling tugged at the back of his mind. The Consortium's purpose was knowledge. Review. Understanding. Why would they not want knowledge shared? The Bivvie almost never shared their hidden knowledge, so the fact that they would share something sooner than the Consortium was even stranger.
    "Fine." he said, feeling like she wouldn't give him anymore of an answer if he tried to dig. "You said that you think the Guillae might work to the humans' benefit. Why?"
    A'alan't 32 drifted around the large meeting table and settled by his side. At this distance, he could see little crackles of blue energy that seemed to bubble beneath her semi-transparent skin.
    "Well," she began, "as a whole they don't really seem to intend harm to anyone. At least, no anyone who hasn't directly harmed them first."
    "But they destroy planets?"
    "Strictly speaking. The Guillae are some confused cross between symbiotic and parasitic, in nature. The atmospheric disturbances and depressurization are a byproduct of their existence. It's not intentional."
    "Symbiotic?"
    "Do you remember the hologram of Mars? Back when the Guillae inhabited it?"
    Darrian thought back to the image. To the blue, brown, and green orb that turned into a brilliant, emerald sphere before his eyes.
    "I know it turned green." he said with a nod.
    "The Guillae expand. It's in their nature. They build and they grow, but not in the same way most civilized races do. They have a love of living things."
    "Are you suggesting that..."
    "I'm suggesting that, unlike most other races, they have a disinterest in trading soil for metal." she said sharply, cutting him off.
    Darrian stared at her quietly. At her blue, fluttering form. How she seemed to be there and not at the same time.
    He'd heard before that the Bivvie hadn't looked this way long ago, but rather had made themselves this way over eons of technological advancements. Pushing themselves to see how far they could go. Pushed so hard that they seemed to exist almost as an energy form more than a being of life and blood.
    "The Guillae..." she said with a sigh, "They tend to help those around them. They help them flourish. They've even been responsible for some sentient races escaping their planets long before the destruction of their atmosphere."
    "So, if the humans resurrect the dead Guillae...Ressurect? Is that right?"
    "Birth more might be more appropriate."
    It didn't feel like it, but he wasn't going to argue.
    "If they manage to birth more Guillae, you think they might help the humans then? Somehow?"
    "It seems likely based on what I've seen about the species."
    Darrian felt a weight start to lift off his chest. There was still the threat of the Tulgucks en route. Yet, the idea that the humans weren't going to wake some kind of monster was reassuring.
    "The only thing is..." A'alan't32 said quietly.
    "Is what?"
    A'alan't 32 remained quiet for a moment, seemingly staring through him. He got the sense that she was struggling with whether or not to tell him something.
    "Well, you already figured out that they feed off of water." she said.
    "Correct. It's why they target water heavy planets. Right?"
    She nodded.
    "Well, the humans have an oddly high water content. Anything from fifty to seventy five percent." she said thoughtfully.
    "You think they will attack the humans then?" Darrian asked quickly, feeling panic swell again.
    "No. No." she said quickly, shaking her head. "Not attack."
    "But...what...?"
    Once again, she simply to stare through him. Thinking. Debating.
    "It's nothing." A'alan't 32 finally said with that same reassuring tone from earlier. "I'm just overthinking things."
    Standing from her place at the table, she gave him another little smile before making her way for the door.
    "Have a good evening, Darrian."
    "And you, A'alan't 32."
    He watched her go, but didn't move. He couldn't help but feel she'd intentionally cut him off. Like she knew something that she had thought better of to share. If the Guillae wouldn't attack the humans, what would there to be worry about? 
    This could prove to be an exciting learning opportunity. The old judge's words echoed in his mind as he made his way for the door and back towards his office.

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Xenophobia - Chapter 11

    The next ten cycles were a maelstrom of activity. The council met at least once a cycle, if not two or three. Darrian was even required to attend several Consortium meetings over that same time period. Everything was concerning the humans' attempt to colonize Mars.
    While the news of their upcoming attempt definitely made ripples, the main reason for the constant deliberation had more to do with the speed that humans seemed to operate at. Every cycle brought several new challenges. Something new to review and discuss.
    Recruiting for the colonization begun. Political arguments rallied regarding planetary ownership. A competition among geographic "nations" broke out regarding who would be the first to reach the planet. Tensions rose between those nations and even threatened war. Several interplanetary vessels were destroyed by what was believed to be sabotage.
    Despite all the setbacks and changes, the colony ships launched at the very end of the tenth cycle. There were two ships; both from different geographic "nations". One from a location known as "China". The other from the "United States".
    Juag-e never showed up to a single meeting during that time.

    "Where is he?" the old judge demanded of Jin'thun at the beginning of the second cycle.
    Jin'thun gave the old judge a withering glare before responding.
    "Do I look like a Tulguck?"
    "You two are always together." interjected Darrian before the old judge could respond.
    "Politically." agreed Jin'thun with a threatening growl. "The same can be said of him and Yool, yet I don't see you turning a sharpened tongue towards him."
    "Hey. Don't drag me into this." retorted Yool.
    "The fact remains," continued the judge, "We just went through an entire cycle without so much as a notification as to his whereabouts. Juag-e needs to take this council seriously."
    "Who could?" snapped Jin'thun. "Particularly when you can't seem to tell me apart from an entirely different species."
    "It's jus..." began Cherryl.
    "It's just what?!" demanded Jin'thun. "I am not an ambassador from Tulguck. I'm a Gorderian and you'll be wise to remember that."
    "Calm yourself, Jin'thun. They meant no disrespect." said A'alan't 32.
    "Of course they did. Because we dare have a different opinion from their own." he said, turning his rage on the little Bivvie. "It's the same reason Ferris likes to call Juag-e, Yool, and I the Trifecta."
    "That's right." he snarled, turning towards Ferris. "You're not as quiet or as funny as you think you are Merrenian. But what can you expect from a rodent in a robot?"
    "Jin'thun!" yelled the old judge.
    "What?" he responded in a low, threatening tone.
    "This is a council meeting. If you can't control you're temper and follow the rules of etiquette you will be removed from this council."
    "Would those be the same rules of etiquette that dictate interspecies relations, specifically on the matter of respect, tolerance, and mutual agreement? Or perhaps you're referring to the subsection that dictates what a council lead is to do in the absence of a species ambassador?"
    The judge had no response and no other counselor dared the Gorderian's fury.
    "Before you yell at me about my breach in etiquette, consider your own. I am not Juag-e's keeper and I will not be put on the spot for his absence." growled Jin'thun. "If you want to know where he is, contact his embassy. That's yours and his problem. Not. Mine."
    Despite the fact that Jin'thun was clearly still fuming, he settled back into his place at the table. The room was silent for several moments as no one knew what to say. Finally, the old judge stepped up.
    "I apologize for my inconsideration, ambassador." said the old judge in a soft tone.
    "Damn right, you are. Now, we've got a job to do. Let's get to it."
    And they did.

    Despite the fact that Darrian was sure the old judge would have contacted the Tulguck embassy immediately after the debacle with Jin'thun, no one heard anything regarding Juag-e for a good while. He didn't return nor was a replacement Tulguck arranged to take his spot. His place at the table remained empty.
    It stayed that way until the evening of the twelfth cycle.
    "Just when I thought we were done with meetings for a while." grumbled Ferris.
    "I thought so too." agreed Darrian as they settled into place.
    "There can't possibly be something else going on." Ferris complained towards the old judge. "The human ships aren't supposed to arrive on Mars for another six or seven cycles."
    "Did something happen?" asked Illiquina with a hint of concern. "Was there an accident? More sabotage?"
    "No accident." confirmed the old judge. "But, to be frank, we have a problem."
    "And what is that?"
    "The Tulguck Armada has been mobilized and they have declared hostile intent against the humans."

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Xenophobia - Chapter 1

    "Uughhh...these meetings always take forever." Darrian groaned.
    "I know." said Ferris with a strangely happy lit to his voice. "But at least the best part is coming up."
    Darrian looked over quizzically at his friend. To his surprise, Ferris's expression matched his tone and he looked genuinely excited.
    "I didn't know you were such a fan of the Celestial Commission reports."
    "Really? You aren't?" Ferris looked almost offended. "They're great! We get to hear about all the new planets that are being considered."
    "Yay? It's a bunch of pencil pushers talking about which ones will be colonized and mined and such."
    "Yea, but who knows what they'll find out there!"
    As if on cue, the old judge at the far end of the table banged his gavel several times to garner the group's attention.
    "Alright, alright. Now before we start wrapping up, Cherryl, would you care to offer any new proposals to the counsel?"
    Cherryl was a mousey, timid little thing a few seats away from Darrian. He saw her nervously look up at the old judge and nod a few times. Despite this, she spent a few more seconds flipping through notes and pictures on her datapad.
    "Um, y-yes. Well, if you all remember, a little while ago the surveys team identified a planet in the AlphaVirgo Quadrant."
    One of the survey team nodded.
    "Right. AV32784." he said offhandedly flipping through his own datapad. "It was heavily aquatic, if I remember correctly. Something in the range of 70% water?"
    "That's right." Cherryl agreed.
    "Wasn't there talk of colonization?" Ferris asked excitedly.
    "W-well...yes..." Cherryl trailed off, suddenly looking disconcerted by the question.
    "They must of found something interesting." Ferris whispered to Darrian. Similar whispers were breaking out all around the table.
    "And is that proposal still on the table?" the judge asked, ignoring the scattered gossip.
    "No, sir. The results from the analysis suggest...well...quarantine."
    The table went dead silent. The judge looked nonplussed.
    "Quarantine?" someone finally asked. "That planet is mostly water! We can't just ignore a planet covered in water!"
    Cherryl was hastily looking back and forth from her datapad and making little squeaks of despair. She was clearly trying to find an answer but was caught between the panic of being put on the spot and not knowing where to even start.
    "I must agree." the judge said, having regained a bit of his composure. "Why would we avoid a planet that's 70% water?"
    "It's not drinkable." Another voice spoke up from the far end of the table. Harris, the lead of the analytics team, stood up.
    "The water is contaminated." he continued. "At least, the majority of it. There are some pockets here and there, but I'd argue that only 5% of the water on the planet is even usable."
    "Contaminated?! With what?"
    "Sodium chloride."
    In the center of the table, lights flickered on and the holographic imager gave birth to a beautiful green and blue planet that hovered just over the table's surface. Harris motioned to the mostly blue sphere.
    "The water is so saturated that consumption is impossible. We simply can't use it."
    "Damnit." Groaned the guy from the survey team, clearly upset at their misstep.
    "While I'm sure we all agree that's most unfortunate," replied the judge, "I'm not sure why that would make the planet up for quarantine."
    "That's not all." Harris said, seemingly enjoying the build up.
    "That's right!" Cherryl nearly shouted.
    Harris gave her a dirty look, clearly having accepted that he simply needed to explain at this point. "There's more problems than just the water."
    "Like?" Darrian asked, quickly becoming annoyed with the theatrics and still surprised at the fact that an entire planet's water source could be utterly useless.
    "Weather, for one." Harris replied. He tapped a few buttons and the holographic imager display boiling black clouds with bolts of energy arcing in every direction. The table erupted in frightened whispering and talking.
    "What the hell is that?"
    "An energy storm. Coupled with heavy buffets of air currents, these storms wreak havoc across the landscape. We've seen them kill flora and fauna and even start fires."
    "This place sounds like hell." Ferris whispered a little too loud.
    "Oh, you think that's bad?" Harris chuckled. "How about the fact that the planet's surface is unstable."
    "What? Are we talking tectonic tremors? That kind of thing?"
    "Well, yes. They've got those too."
    "Too?!"
    "This planet has MAGMA ON IT'S SURFACE!"
    "Wait, wait, wait." said the judge. "Magma, by definition, is in a planet's core. The exception is when a planet is forming."
    "I know! That's the craziest part!" Harris was clearly getting excited. "There are these great mountains that literally explode and spray molten rock everywhere!"
    "This is insanity..."
    "Are you ready for the final ringer?" Harris asked, looking even more excited.
    "How much worse can you make this place?!"
    "The planet's atmosphere..."
    The occupants of the table were unconsciously leaning forward now.
    "Oxygen."
     The table went silent for several moments as they all considered what they'd heard. Energy storms, contaminated water, exploding mountains of molten rock, and, worst of all, an oxygen atmosphere. It was like someone had taken a nightmare and made it real.
    The judge was the first person to break the silence.
    "Fine. We get it. Oxygen atmosphere alone is enough to disqualify it for colonization. Why, then, do you feel the need to propose we quarantine this barren wasteland?"
    "Because it's not barren."
    "You're full of shit." Someone yelled. "Nothing can live in oxygen!"
    "That's the thing." Harris said quietly. "The planet has a full ecosystem and even a species that is playing at being space faring."
    "Alright. Stop." The judge had clearly heard enough. "If we're talking about a new space faring race, we need to get the Galactic Consortium involved."
    There were a few accepting nods. Darrian couldn't help but feel sick to his stomach. How anything could breath that poison and live was beyond him, and here Harris was telling them that somehow a species that breathed oxygen was becoming space faring?
    "We'll schedule a secondary hearing to discuss the implications of this species." The judge said curtly. "Does your team have a name for them?"
    "Nothing official. We hadn't even realized they were there until the analysis. But it would seem that some of the creatures call themselves 'human', so that's as good a name as any to start."

===

Next Chapter
Return to the Title Page

===

Library in the Dark idea

    So, I’ve been thinking about a little project. I would argue it’s a weird cross between the mystery the idea of LootCrate, Gamefly, and “Blind Date with a Book”. The name behind it (at the moment) is “Library in the Dark”.

     The basic idea would be some sort of a subscription fee (let’s just say monthly $15 books or something) and you choose the genre. In turn, you would receive an unknown book of that respective genre monthly until you either stop or decide you want a different genre. (I’ve thought about doing a multiple genre kind of subscription, but I’m not sure how the prices would really work yet…maybe 1 for $15, 2 for $25, etc. kinda business.)
  
     Last but not least, and here’s where my brain is really buzzing, I’m not sure if it should be Lootcrate or Gamefly, in that you should be able to keep the book forever and just keep getting more stuff OR to be able to keep the book if you want it for an additional fee and return it in exchange for something else if you don’t want to keep it.

     What do you guys think? I feel like some people would really like this idea, but I’m not sure where to take it. Input would be greatly appreciated.

Untitled / Sci-Fi - Chapter 2 - 05.08.16

 

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    Aryana woke several hours later. With the exception of the occasional beep and a few flashing lights from the control panels around the bridge, it was completely quiet. Just outside the viewfinder, the frozen darkness of space continued to drift by. Indifferent. Endless.

    She reached down and grabbed the datapad to check the calculations and, to her surprise, found that it was dead. She tapped it a few times but it was completely non-responsive.

    Battery’s probably dead. she thought.

    Getting up from under the warmth of her blanket, she crossed the cold floor to the datapad’s docking station and plugged it in. It gave a reassuring beep and the screen flashed to confirm it was charging. It would be at least a few minutes before it let her activate it again.

    Leaning down at the closest console, she flipped on the screen to check the course layouts.

    While she waited for the readouts to come up, she couldn’t help but chuckle at the toys strewn across the top of the console. It was covered with a number of small action figures wearing spandex. Brown, her navigator, was a huge fan of the 20^th and 21^st centuries and apparently these toys were “wrestlers” from some entertainment program back then. She had always been a fan of “The Rock”, as Brown called him.

    The computer blinked and started scrolling numbers across the screen. Thousands of lines of calculations, hundreds of variables and numbers were accounted for, all flashed by in an instant. She could have manually checked them, but right now she was more interested in the overall.

    Course stable. Flashed in green at the bottom of the screen.

    “Good enough for me.”

    She flipped off the screen and made her way back to the rec room to make herself some dinner. While she waited for it to cook, she came to the conclusion that she’d have to wake her crew. It would be jarring to be woken from hypersleep for such a short period, but it would be a lot harder to explain when she woke them up just to make them refuel the ship.

    The next while was spent choking down the poor excuse for a meal that she had tossed together. It was bland, tasteless, and made from what she could scrape together without rehydrating any food stores, but it filled her belly and that was good enough for the time being. She could have a real meal later.

    Afterwards, back in the cryo-chamber, she went about thawing her crew. She started with Duncan. Duncan Kilborne had been her second mate for four separate ore-runs into the Capulet sector and a good guy. Next was her navigator, Hammond Brown, who always preferred his last name to his first. This was followed by Rebecca Lee, the Quartermaster, Richard Sanchez, Pilot, Danisha Folami, the ship’s Mechanic, Yoko Xi, Danisha’s Assistant, Howard Moore, the ship’s Doctor, and Franklin Toss, the Cargo Master.

    The tubes opened one by one. Cryogenic gas poured out across the floors and the cool mist filled the room. Arayana couldn’t help but shiver, immediately regretting having left her blanket on the bridge. It was already cold. Adding the contents of eight freezers to the room didn’t make it any better.

    For a few minutes, nothing moved except the pluming white and blue gases. Then, groans. The sound of sporadic movement. Finally, Dick was the first to speak up.

    “Are we there yet?” he muttered incoherently.

    No one answered.

    Slowly, painfully, the crew went about climbing out of their tubes and making a beeline for the nearby showers. Men and women alike stripped off their cryosuits with no regard to the others around them and basked under the hot water. The water on the ship was rarely used and had been recycled more times than they could count but none of them cared. The hot water helped to blast away the delirium and slimy feeling that cryo sleep left them with.

    Aryana waited calmly for each of her crew. None of them took too long, but she wouldn’t rush them even if they did. Waking from cryo was a horrible feeling and she had just done the same not too long ago. She couldn’t fault them for the toll the process took on their bodies.

    It was only when the showers had stopped and the crew was pulling on fresh clothes that anyone spoke again.

    “They ain’t paying us enough for this shit.” Frank grumbled as he pulled on his pants.

    “Not enough to wake up to your face, Frank.” Dani shot back without even looking over.

    “Good morning to you too, shitface.”

    The two chuckled and soon the eight of them were making subdued small talk amongst themselves. Lots of insults and more than a bit of colorful language, but none of it angry. The only one who didn’t join in was Aryana, and Howard was the first to notice.

    “I can’t help but think we didn’t get to enjoy the sight of our Captain’s fine ass in the shower today.” He said as he finished pulling his shirt over his head. “What do you think Becca?”

    “You’re right,” the spunky little Quartermaster agreed. “I was wondering why I felt so tired. I just realized I didn’t have my coffee this morning.”

    As if to empathize her point, Becca looked over at Aryana and playfully licked her lips.

    “Now, do you suppose it’s because she just doesn’t like us anymore?” Howard asked, pouting his bottom lip.

    “I think it’s because I had to wake up early this morning while you assholes slept in.” Aryana snapped back with a grin.

    “Such are the privileges of that fat little bonus on her paycheck.” Dani said with a laugh as she tried to dry chocolate mop of hair.

    “Wait a second, you guys get paid?!” Brown said with playful panic.

    “Like I said, not paid enough for this shit.” Frank muttered again.

    Dani reached over and smacked him in the back of the head with a laugh.

    “Alright, alright.” Duncan said calmly. “Clearly something’s up. What’s going on, cap’n?”

    The crew fell silent and, for a minute, Aryana hated Duncan. He always had the crew’s attention in an instant and now all of them were silently staring at her. She’d much rather just listen to everyone bullshit amongst themselves than give them the bad news.

    She let out a long sigh.

    “As you know, sometimes we receive orders that dictate when we need to make alterations to our course. And, despite being your captain, I have no say in those alterations…” she said. She couldn’t help but to feel defensive. “Well, it would seem that we had to make a change.”

    “What kind of change?” Yoko asked, her brow furrowing.

    “As it turns out, the course that we were previously heading on would have taken us through active pirate space. The company felt it in our best interest to redirect us around that quadrant.”

    They all remained quiet, staring. They knew more was coming.

    “They...” she scratched the back of her head and sighed again. “They’re sending us up towards Waystation Kappa-34.”

    “Kappa-34?!” Frank said. The huge man stood up to his full height in anger, dwarfing those around him.

    “That’s going to add months onto the trip!” Becca said, gritting her teeth.

    “Yea.” Aryana agreed. “Six months out, we get to stop and refuel. Followed by another six making our way around.”

    “A whole year?” Duncan asked quietly.

    Her heart felt heavy as she looked at Duncan’s calm, but darkened expression. She couldn’t say anything to him. She just nodded.

    The crew stared at each other silently for a few minutes. None of them wanted to say what they were all thinking. The year of their family’s life that they were going to miss out on. The extra year in the freezers to play havoc on their bodies. The extra year where anything and everything could go wrong in the reaches of space.

    “I know this sucks, guys.” Aryana said finally. “But it’s either that or get buttfucked by pirates in your sleep.”

    “I, for one, was hoping to meet a nice upstanding gentleman.” Brown said snidely. “However will I meet him if not through barreling blindly through pirate territory?”

    Dani proceeded to smack Brown this time. Frank chuckled. Dani smacked him too.

    “I figured you guys would rather know this way than when we got to the Waystation to refuel. So, if you want to go back to the freeze right away, you’re more than welcome to. If you want a few hours to stretch your legs, I get that too. One way or another, I want everyone back on ice within a day.”

    “Let’s get this shit done sooner rather than later.” She said sternly.

    They all nodded in agreement.