Catch a fistful of sky

Fairy Tale

October 13, 2010
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Once upon a time, there was a girl named Riley. She was not a princess, but she might as well have been. She lived in the kingdom of California, in the duchy of the City of Angels. She was a pretty girl, all of ten years old, and she had long brown hair and green eyes. She was tall for her age, and adventerous beyond good sense sometime. She was mature for her age though, and while she dreamed, she kept both feet planted in this world.  Riley lived in a big house along the beach and had lots of friends, and generally lived an enchanted life as the country around her twisted in the throes of malaise.

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Old Friends, New Places, Part 6.

August 13, 2010
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The chime to Chris’ door played several tones, and she leaned out from her office to see who it was. The screen next to the door showed Clay standing there, dreamblade and all. “Come in!” she shouted, and then slid back into her office. The door slid open with a pneumatic hiss and then closed again. When she came out a moment later, Clay was standing at the windows to her apartment looking out over the vista of sea and sky. Birds were wheeling around a floating advert stand off in the distance, and sleek ships were cutting the water.

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Old Friends, New Places, pt 5

July 30, 2010
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Clay was dreaming, but for FOSsils, most of their dreaming was the lucid variety . He was a comet, hurtling through space, with six others. Kipling, Jake, Cape, Fareedon, Keza, and Drake, all going in the same direction but so far from one another that the others seemed like white lights with tails, letting him know that he was not alone. He looked for Keza, who was farther than anyone. He wondered if this was purposeful. He was the man without a raptor, and she was the raptor without a man. There had been some talk, after Scylla, about putting them together as a team from those who had no idea of what a Bond entailed. Fletcher had been there to stop that.

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For future reference

July 28, 2010
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There are some of you following my serialized story, old friends, who I do not know about and are not being facebook messaged about what is going on. I am changing the names because they are based off real people and this saves me a lot of CTRL + F rewriting in the future. From now on:

Tyler = Clay

Alex = Chris(tina)

Leah = Chi(cago)

Emily = Jane

Carmen = Allie

Thanks for following! Certain things in part 2 (the battle) and part 3 (the chat) have been fine tuned a little as well. If you’re waiting for part 5, that might be a place to whet your appetite.


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Old friends, new places. Pt 4

July 23, 2010
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“Fighting across the stars,” Emily said, musing over the turn of phrase.

“What about it?” asked Tyler, pulling one leg up into the chair with him.

“I suppose that’s what got me out here. I was on Terra, you know, for the liberation. Were you there?” she asked.

Tyler shook his head. “No, most of us were deployed on Illuria. We were to deal with the thought police there and use our empathic projection to help keep up the morale of the Illurians who were rebelling. Only Rolf and Sara were on Terra,” he said.

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Old Friends, New Places, Pt 3.

July 10, 2010
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Alex took the orb, and spun it in her hand. It did not come alive for her like it had for the women, but she seem to expect that. “This is what the Naith use as databases,” she said. “Even now, their culture remains an enigma. We’ve reports of an exile who came over not too long ago, but that’s above my pay grade.”

She put the orb down, and Leah looked at her incredulously. “So that’s what all that’s what all those lives were for? All the dead? You, Emily, and myself, almost Domesticated by a Rulon? All for a Naith encyclopedia?!” she said, turning the last word into a curse.

“Yes,” Alex said flatly. Leah gave a snarl and leapt at Alex, who was restrained by Emily and wrestled back down.

“They died, and there is nothing we can do about that,” Emily told Leah. “That is the Truth. All we can do is make sure those deaths were worthwhile,” she said. Alex looked over Emily.

“Odd, a human who believes in Ultimate Truth,” Alex noted. Emily cut her eyes at Alex.

“Yes, I do. And you should know what we think of duplicity and lies and those who use them,” Emily said.

“Before you lecture me, remember that the Illurians are the originators of Ultimate Truth, and they’re the greatest intelligenciers and covert agents we have in the Empire,” Alex noted.  Emily’s retort died on her lips as Carmen’s voice filled the cabin.

“Ladies, we’ve got a problem,” she said.

(more…)


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Changeling: The Lost fiction

June 29, 2010
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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.

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Old Friends, New Places Pt 2

June 22, 2010
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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.

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Old friends reuniting in a new place

June 11, 2010
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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.

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Another bit of the story.

April 15, 2010
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Kip frowned under his visor after Reaper severed the connection. “I think I may have just stepped on my dick there,” he told her as she turned about, toward the sound of Peacer jump jets.

“If they laughed its a good sign. Its when they’re quiet you have to worry about them,” Delah said, firing off a shot or two into melee ahead. It was more for the Rulonian’s morale than to hit anything, to let him know help was almost there. Kip didn’t say anything. He was focusing his will into molding his dreamblade into a curved blade, for slicing the delicate series of hoses and wires that were part of the enemy’s jump packs. It responded easily, having tasted fresh blood, and slid into the desired shape.

“They’re certainly not quiet, they scream into battle like meteors, and they blast the most ridiculous song when they decide to show up,” Kip observed, firing his pistol ahead at blue white targets.

“See, calling their song ridiculous is what would get you killed,” Delah said. “Gameface, partner.”

“Good thing I have your steadying influence,” he told her,  “Dismounting after the first pass,” he said as they entered the fray.

~

Commando-Sergeant Major Jersey laughed as he killed the com to the rider on the ground. “What the hell does he know about our type of mission?” The men around him laughed, their chuckled muffled by the helmets they wore. Painted with a skull patina, they glowed blue in the lights of the drop pod as it began its decent. They sat back best they could, the heavy plates of their battle armor made sitting for extended periods of time an uncomfortable experience, especially when locked into a drop pod. The rest of their armor was a glossy black, sucking up the light.  One commando was playing with a haptic hologram, working through personel files, and he gave a surprised grunt.

(more…)


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

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