Catch a fistful of sky

Changeling: The Lost fiction

June 29, 2010
Leave a Comment

Malik was thankful for the darkness.  There was nothing that said his quarry had to move at night, but for all involved it just made things so much easier. The privateer moved fast, for a Wizened, and never once looked for the Darkling, who moved from shadow to shadow on the empty streets. Of more pressing concern to the privateer would be the two Summer Court bullyboys that he could hear, but not see, their big Crimson Court feet reverberating through the world for all to listen.

They were the hand that distracts you while the other one did its work, pulling a coin from your ear or driving a stiletto behind it. Perhaps Simon Ragman had an idea of the death that was approaching him, hiding in the shadows of cats and streetlights, and was simply playing the players, but Malik Last Laughter, once Meyer Lawson, doubted it. Yes, Ragman was cunning, in that low way that children and simpletons are drawn in by, the kind of cunning that was dangerous enough to require you to never turn your back on his sort. It was that cunning, perhaps, that had led Ragman into the idea of stealing children for the Gentry.

(more…)

Advertisements

Posted in Writing

Old Friends, New Places Pt 2

June 22, 2010
Leave a Comment

Emily was correct. The sleek black ship with silver piping along the wings and dorsal fin made one pass over the modular buildings that made up their camp shortly before dinner was ready. It wagged its wings once and then came down for a landing in the cleared field that passed for a vehicle pool.

(more…)


Posted in Writing

Old friends reuniting in a new place

June 11, 2010
Leave a Comment

Leah stepped through the remains of the Naith ship, gingerly stepping through the ruined remains of a doorway. The ship had crash landed after being shot out of orbit in the battle that had raged in the heavens a few years ago. Now all that was left was the remains of a Naith Garden class mothership, one of the only ones not to activate its self destruct protocol.

As an all around tech specialist with a background in alien literature, Leah felt lucky to be part of the expedition that had recently landed on Cassius IV. It was a small team, made up of several generalists and two specialists, herself and Archivist Emily O’Leary.  All the members were humans, though there was talk of Old Bloods and Bhae Chaw being sent in to add in their perspectives.  She picked up one of the spheres that the Naith used in the place of books,and it glowed to life, projecting a series of dashes and glyphs that were the Naith language. The line scrolled vertically, telling its story. After a moment of playing with it, she realized she could control the speed by rotating her wrist up and down. Just as she was about to delve into whatever story the sphere was telling, she heard footfalls coming down the hall. O’Leary popped her head the wreck of a doorway, careful not to snag her black utility uniform on any of the twisted metal.

“Anything interesting?” the archivist asked.  Leah turned to regard the sphere, and then shook her head.

“I can’t tell. I just picked it up and I’m was just about to start looking at the glyphs.  This is my first time even handling one of their scribe globes,” Leah admitted. Emily looked over her shoulder at the flashing glyphs, and then shook her hair, pushing a strand behind her ear.

“Well, you might as well bring it with you. We have guests coming in,” she said, stepping fully into the room and looking at a piece of Naith calligraphy art that had fallen on the floor.  It was a banner meant to be hung at an angle, the calligraphy that was inscribed seemed like it was hastily scribbled over and over again.  Looking closer, you could start to see patterns that were formed in the strange Naith glyphs. Emily pulled her gaze away, realising Leah had said something. “What was that?”

“What do you mean, guests?” she said, tucking the sphere into a drop pouch that rested against her thigh. She was wearing the same utilities that Emily had on. Grey in color, short sleeved, pockets over each breast and cargo pockets on the pants. The shirt closed at the front with a micro velcro system and the material was rip proof, more or less and adjusted to the climate she was in. All in all, it was rather basic.

“Guests. We’re official. The Science Division is sending an Engineer over to help survey the ship and get us ready for a real expedition coming here. Its our show, but they’re providing more funding and manpower than the Titan Scholastica ever could,” she said, smiling widely. Leah returned her grin tightly, not so sure that Imperial interest so soon was a good thing.

“So how much longer do we have before they arrive?” Leah asked.

“That’s the thing,” said Emily, “they’re in orbit right now. I guess they’ll be ready by the time dinner is served down here.” Emily began stepping out of the room, waiting for Leah to follow and continue their conversation.

“They? I thought you said they were only sending an Engineer,” Leah asked. She stepped through and walked alongside the hallway, balancing herself against the walls when the floor jutted up.

“Yes, but I guess there’s a pilot and security staff or something. The war against the Peacers has been over for a few years now, but we’re in the boonies out here, and flare ups are still common,” Emily noted with a shrug. She hopped down to the shimmering blue grass and gave Leah a hand.

“Well, let’s go see what Leon has made for our very official guests. If I have to eat reformed meat and vegetable medley one more time, I’m going to gnaw his ear off.  Our guests should be good for actual fresh food, I hope” she said.

~

Carmen checked the landing protocols as she descended into the friendly atmosphere of Cassius IV. A hurricane was raging on the other side of the planet that took up more degrees of longitude and latitude then she wanted to think about, but that was to be expected with terraforming. The silver lenses sealed over her eyes streamed data on the left side, and she cycled through it with a series of blinks, giving commands by scrunching her nose and focusing on commands with her right eye. As her fingers moved over controls, she guided the plane into a controlled descent that would have them on the ground at the expedition site in about ten minutes.

(more…)


Posted in Writing

About author

Paratrooper. Correctional Officer. Federal Agent. Hello world, these are my thoughts and this is my story.

Search

Navigation

Categories:

Links:

Archives:

Feeds