Caleb Fast's Blog, page 5

Newsletter: Limit of Infinity Happenings 21.02.20

Sent out 21.02.2020 to 201 fans.

21 February 2020 Writer Update!I’m still writing more in The Battle for Allegra, and I’m just now wrapping up another episode right now!
…ok, that’s a lie. I’m writing this update for all of you right now, but I promise I have the Word Doc open. 

For those of you who have been meaning to check out the first episode of the new series, then I’ve got good news for you! I’ve dropped a bit of it in today’s short story! Short Story!
Here’s the intro to The Battle for Allegra: Conscripted

The Battle for Allegra: Conscripted 
Chapter One
Crail, Sinclair“There’s nothing like it,” Matthew Campbell whispers in awe as he stares at the coastal cliffs that hem in his hometown of Crail. As usual, the sun is just beginning to set, and it is gently slipping behind the island. A fiery red sunset seemingly highlights the dark cliffs.
Crail is a small fishing village situated on one of the few islands that dot the vast oceans of Matthew’s homeworld of Sinclair. The hundred or so buildings that the village is comprised of are all built of the same monotone grey shale that the island is made of.
Sun-bleached wooden roofs lighten the scene, albeit slightly. A handful of homes are also painted with various shades of green, made from a seaweed that only the most patient people dared to make a paint from.
The harbor of Crail is bustling with other ships that make up the town’s meager fishing fleet. Matthew sighs as he realizes that once again, he is on the last ship to return home for the day. That means that the food waiting for him and the others would be cold by now—if there was even any left.
“And there’s nothing better than it,” Matthew’s dad, Heron Campbell, sounds from behind as he clasps his son’s shoulder.
Heron had been raised up to be a fisherman and sailor since the day he was born. For generations, the family business had been fishing, and Heron wasn’t about to let that change.
The problem is that Matthew has no intention to follow in his father’s footsteps.
“Dad, I can’t stay here forever,” Matthew starts without turning to face his father. They had had this same conversation countless times before, and the answer always remained the same.
“And who would bring in the fish to feed the village?” Heron repeats the same exact argument he always used.
“You’ve got a whole crew. And besides that, Mark can take over for me,” Matthew volunteers his younger brother. Oddly enough, he had never tried telling his father to try recruiting his other siblings to sail in his place.
“Mark is too young to work the nets,” Heron replies. Matthew can hear him turn and march back across the deck of their small fishing ship toward the rear of the vessel.
“So was I when you first began teaching me! I can’t just stay here and fish for the rest of my life!”
“What else would you do?”
“I’ve got a bit of an idea,” Matthew replies as he turns and walks toward his father who is now at the ship’s helm. Matthew skirts around several members of his father’s crew as he makes his way across the now-crowded deck. Once he passes the ship’s sole mast, Matthew continues, “I was actually thinking I’d become a pilot or something. You taught me to navigate by the stars, so I’d never get lost. Besides, no one else would be able to do the same, they’d all depend on their computers to get around.”
“There’s already plenty of pilots out there, son,” Heron shakes his head, “You can ask any of the spacers when the next shipment comes.”
“But the next shipment isn’t due for another month!” Matthew whines as he starts tugging on a nearby rope to help draw in the sails.
Heron remains silent for several beats before he eventually sounds, “Tell them that,” Heron proceeds to point behind Matthew toward Crail. Sure enough, a space shuttle is slowly descending from the overcast skies above their home.
For as long as Matthew can remember, the Coalition had sent shipments of supplies and medicine to Crail once a year. Shipments usually were comprised of just a few large crates, many of which were already half-empty. But, the thrill of goods from alien planets made up for all they lacked–both in quantity and in usefulness.
In return for the measly shipments, the fishermen of Crail would fill up the freighter with most of their recent catch. Matthew was told that this was to meet a Coalition edict. Said edict dictated exactly how much fish had to be handed over and failure to do so was punishable by imprisonment.
Every year, the required amount of fish increased, which was always met with the same moaning and groaning from sailors like Matthew’s dad. Despite this, the quota’s remained the same. The workload on the fishermen increased to keep the pace as each man slowly was worked to death.
Frowning, Matthew mutters, “Oh joy, more useless junk.”
“At least we get something in exchange for our work,” Heron points out optimistically as the wind slowly carries them toward Crail’s harbor.
“I wonder why they’re early,” Matthew muses as he finishes up his work with the sails, “I hope they haven’t come for this year’s collection.”
“Indeed,” Heron agrees with a slow nod.
For one reason or another, the Coalition Overseers who presided over the loading of fish insisted that all the fish be fresh. This meant that the people of Crail went hungry the weeks leading up to the Coalition’s arrival. Such measures were necessary to ensure only the freshest fish were stockpiled for the exchange. Every single fish that was caught for nearly a whole month went directly into cold storage to ensure that they were as fresh as possible.
Matthew makes his way to the bow of his family’s quaint boat as he scans the docks for his lifelong love, Dixie McNeil, who always welcomed him back ashore. Without much effort, he quickly picks her out of the crowd of people dockside, and he can’t help but smile. Even at this distance Matthew can’t help but admire her beauty.
“What’s going on?” Matthew shouts as he cups his hands over his mouth to ensure his voice carries over the choppy waters in the harbor.
Dixie cups her own hands over her mouth, and after a short moment, her faint reply is carried over the water, “Something happened!”
Matthew raises his right fist for Dixie to see to indicate that he had heard her. After a beat, he whispers to himself, “What could have happened to make them come all the way out here?”
“What’s the news?” Heron calls from the helm.
“Dix says something happened,” Matthew responds as he weaves his way back to his father.
“Why would they come all the way out here?” Heron wonders aloud.
“That’s what I was thinking,” Matthew concurs as Heron skillfully guides their fishing vessel alongside the dock where they eventually slow to a stop.
Matthew sees Dixie frantically waving him over and he quickly rushes over to the ship’s starboard railing. He pauses a beat as the crew catches some ropes which are thrown to them by those on the docks. Once the ropes are caught, the crew starts pulling their modest vessel closer to the dockside to unload the day’s bountiful catch.
Dixie works her way past the dozens of dockhands who are itching to finish unloading their final ship before they finally get to head home. Once she is near, she calls out, “They’ve called for us to meet in the workshop!”
“Just us? Matthew inquires with a curious look.
“Everyone ages sixteen to twenty,” Dixie answers dutifully as she returns Matthew’s look. She glances around at everyone else before continuing in a concerned voice, “What do you think they want?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Matthew shrugs as the crew lashes the ship alongside the dock. Once the ship is secure, he climbs over the worn wood rail and drops down to the stone dock below.
Matthew looks over to the space freighter which has since landed atop of the cliffs which overlook the town. He can’t help but stare as people dressed in strange dark blue uniforms disembark rather than crates, as was the norm. One of them pulls another aside and points around the town, assumedly telling their companion everything about Crail.
“What is it?” Dixie inquires as she cocks her head at Matthew. She eventually follows his stare and whispers, “Who are they?”
“They look like soldiers,” Matthew replies absently.
“What are soldiers doing here?” Dixie wonders aloud.
“I don’t know,” Matthew shrugs dismissively. Looking back to his father who is still aboard their ship, he calls out, “Dad, I’m going to the workshop with Dix!”
“You’re going to miss supper,” Heron warns.
Matthew simply nods that he heard his father before turning and leading Dixie through the crowd of people on the dock. Several people glare at him accusingly, since he isn’t helping to unload the ship, but he could care less.
“Are the others there yet?” Matthew asks Dixie once they’ve freed themselves from the crowd.
“Yes, I only left in order to get you,” Dixie replies.
“What do they think is happening?” Matthew inquires as he and Dixie make their way down the cobbled streets of Crail toward the workshop.
“Maveric said that he only heard some of what the freighter’s captain said when they were calling ahead,” Dixie starts as she purses her lips. She sighs before continuing, “He said he didn’t like the sounds of it, but that’s all he would tell us.”
Matthew silently nods for a few moments before he eventually mutters loud enough for Dixie to hear, “Something isn’t right, that’s for sure.”
 If your curious about what happens next, then I have good news! 
You can still get a free review copy because I’m still in need of reviews. So, please be sure to either reply to this email with a request, or you can follow the link below to get a review copy. I hope you all enjoy it!
https://storyoriginapp.com/reviewcopies/092b8809-2e3b-4599-b1fb-2bdfda9e25c6Weekly Promo!
I’ve got a special single book promo at the end as well that I’d love for all of you to check out!Rockets and Sprockets Sci-Fi and Fantasy
Here’s a list of sci-fi books that you can get previews and full copies of for free! If you’re looking for something new to read, then this might just be the promo for you! There are also a few fantasy stories thrown into this huge collection of books.
This promo ends in a couple days, so go ahead and check it out!
https://storyoriginapp.com/to/rMRWt3ZSTARSCAPE
Here’s a BUNCH of sci-fi books for all of you! Yes, it’s more giveaways, so get ready for some freebies and new newsletter emails. 
If you’re looking for some new reads, maybe this is the promo for you!

Newsletter: Limit of Infinity Happenings 28.02.20

Sent out 28.02.2020 to 216 fans.

28 February 2020Happy (almost) Leap Year Day! And on the subject of leap days, I thought I would share a Leap-Day related fun fact! 
There are also Leap Seconds. 
Leap seconds, like leap days take place to “correct” time because of a lot of boring science (or cool science, if you’re like me and you love science).
The last leap second was added in 2016!
 Writer Update!
I’ve got three books out in the new “The Battle for Allegra” series. Book four is well on the way. But, before I go any further, I wanted to take some time to thank those of you who have helped me out on this new series!
I wanted to thank the two subscribers who have already dropped their reviews on Amazon and Goodreads.
So, thank you both for your great feedback and for taking the time to help me out like this! It really means a lot to me, and I loved seeing what you both had to say. 

I’d also like to thank everyone else who has grabbed a review copy and is somewhere between reading the book and waiting for the review to post to Amazon, Goodreads, Bookbub, or wherever else you’re leaving it! 
 If anyone else is willing to help me out like those of you who already have, I would greatly appreciate it. A simple “I liked this book” or even just a star rating is enough to make the difference between life and death as an author. It doesn’t have to be a lot to make the difference!

So, without further ado, here’s the link where you can get the review copy. https://storyoriginapp.com/reviewcopies/092b8809-2e3b-4599-b1fb-2bdfda9e25c6

Or, if you would rather just contact me, just reply to this email and strike up a conversation with me! (I don’t bite!)Short Story!
Here’s the intro to The Battle for Allegra: Conscripted
Yes, I know I dropped this last week as well, but I wanted to let all of you check it out one more time in hopes that I will be able to win over some more reviewers. 

The Battle for Allegra: Conscripted 
Chapter One
Crail, Sinclair“There’s nothing like it,” Matthew Campbell whispers in awe as he stares at the coastal cliffs that hem in his hometown of Crail. As usual, the sun is just beginning to set, and it is gently slipping behind the island. A fiery red sunset seemingly highlights the dark cliffs.
Crail is a small fishing village situated on one of the few islands that dot the vast oceans of Matthew’s homeworld of Sinclair. The hundred or so buildings that the village is comprised of are all built of the same monotone grey shale that the island is made of.
Sun-bleached wooden roofs lighten the scene, albeit slightly. A handful of homes are also painted with various shades of green, made from a seaweed that only the most patient people dared to make a paint from.
The harbor of Crail is bustling with other ships that make up the town’s meager fishing fleet. Matthew sighs as he realizes that once again, he is on the last ship to return home for the day. That means that the food waiting for him and the others would be cold by now—if there was even any left.
“And there’s nothing better than it,” Matthew’s dad, Heron Campbell, sounds from behind as he clasps his son’s shoulder.
Heron had been raised up to be a fisherman and sailor since the day he was born. For generations, the family business had been fishing, and Heron wasn’t about to let that change.
The problem is that Matthew has no intention to follow in his father’s footsteps.
“Dad, I can’t stay here forever,” Matthew starts without turning to face his father. They had had this same conversation countless times before, and the answer always remained the same.
“And who would bring in the fish to feed the village?” Heron repeats the same exact argument he always used.
“You’ve got a whole crew. And besides that, Mark can take over for me,” Matthew volunteers his younger brother. Oddly enough, he had never tried telling his father to try recruiting his other siblings to sail in his place.
“Mark is too young to work the nets,” Heron replies. Matthew can hear him turn and march back across the deck of their small fishing ship toward the rear of the vessel.
“So was I when you first began teaching me! I can’t just stay here and fish for the rest of my life!”
“What else would you do?”
“I’ve got a bit of an idea,” Matthew replies as he turns and walks toward his father who is now at the ship’s helm. Matthew skirts around several members of his father’s crew as he makes his way across the now-crowded deck. Once he passes the ship’s sole mast, Matthew continues, “I was actually thinking I’d become a pilot or something. You taught me to navigate by the stars, so I’d never get lost. Besides, no one else would be able to do the same, they’d all depend on their computers to get around.”
“There’s already plenty of pilots out there, son,” Heron shakes his head, “You can ask any of the spacers when the next shipment comes.”
“But the next shipment isn’t due for another month!” Matthew whines as he starts tugging on a nearby rope to help draw in the sails.
Heron remains silent for several beats before he eventually sounds, “Tell them that,” Heron proceeds to point behind Matthew toward Crail. Sure enough, a space shuttle is slowly descending from the overcast skies above their home.
For as long as Matthew can remember, the Coalition had sent shipments of supplies and medicine to Crail once a year. Shipments usually were comprised of just a few large crates, many of which were already half-empty. But, the thrill of goods from alien planets made up for all they lacked–both in quantity and in usefulness.
In return for the measly shipments, the fishermen of Crail would fill up the freighter with most of their recent catch. Matthew was told that this was to meet a Coalition edict. Said edict dictated exactly how much fish had to be handed over and failure to do so was punishable by imprisonment.
Every year, the required amount of fish increased, which was always met with the same moaning and groaning from sailors like Matthew’s dad. Despite this, the quota’s remained the same. The workload on the fishermen increased to keep the pace as each man slowly was worked to death.
Frowning, Matthew mutters, “Oh joy, more useless junk.”
“At least we get something in exchange for our work,” Heron points out optimistically as the wind slowly carries them toward Crail’s harbor.
“I wonder why they’re early,” Matthew muses as he finishes up his work with the sails, “I hope they haven’t come for this year’s collection.”
“Indeed,” Heron agrees with a slow nod.
For one reason or another, the Coalition Overseers who presided over the loading of fish insisted that all the fish be fresh. This meant that the people of Crail went hungry the weeks leading up to the Coalition’s arrival. Such measures were necessary to ensure only the freshest fish were stockpiled for the exchange. Every single fish that was caught for nearly a whole month went directly into cold storage to ensure that they were as fresh as possible.
Matthew makes his way to the bow of his family’s quaint boat as he scans the docks for his lifelong love, Dixie McNeil, who always welcomed him back ashore. Without much effort, he quickly picks her out of the crowd of people dockside, and he can’t help but smile. Even at this distance Matthew can’t help but admire her beauty.
“What’s going on?” Matthew shouts as he cups his hands over his mouth to ensure his voice carries over the choppy waters in the harbor.
Dixie cups her own hands over her mouth, and after a short moment, her faint reply is carried over the water, “Something happened!”
Matthew raises his right fist for Dixie to see to indicate that he had heard her. After a beat, he whispers to himself, “What could have happened to make them come all the way out here?”
“What’s the news?” Heron calls from the helm.
“Dix says something happened,” Matthew responds as he weaves his way back to his father.
“Why would they come all the way out here?” Heron wonders aloud.
“That’s what I was thinking,” Matthew concurs as Heron skillfully guides their fishing vessel alongside the dock where they eventually slow to a stop.
Matthew sees Dixie frantically waving him over and he quickly rushes over to the ship’s starboard railing. He pauses a beat as the crew catches some ropes which are thrown to them by those on the docks. Once the ropes are caught, the crew starts pulling their modest vessel closer to the dockside to unload the day’s bountiful catch.
Dixie works her way past the dozens of dockhands who are itching to finish unloading their final ship before they finally get to head home. Once she is near, she calls out, “They’ve called for us to meet in the workshop!”
“Just us? Matthew inquires with a curious look.
“Everyone ages sixteen to twenty,” Dixie answers dutifully as she returns Matthew’s look. She glances around at everyone else before continuing in a concerned voice, “What do you think they want?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Matthew shrugs as the crew lashes the ship alongside the dock. Once the ship is secure, he climbs over the worn wood rail and drops down to the stone dock below.
Matthew looks over to the space freighter which has since landed atop of the cliffs which overlook the town. He can’t help but stare as people dressed in strange dark blue uniforms disembark rather than crates, as was the norm. One of them pulls another aside and points around the town, assumedly telling their companion everything about Crail.
“What is it?” Dixie inquires as she cocks her head at Matthew. She eventually follows his stare and whispers, “Who are they?”
“They look like soldiers,” Matthew replies absently.
“What are soldiers doing here?” Dixie wonders aloud.
“I don’t know,” Matthew shrugs dismissively. Looking back to his father who is still aboard their ship, he calls out, “Dad, I’m going to the workshop with Dix!”
“You’re going to miss supper,” Heron warns.
Matthew simply nods that he heard his father before turning and leading Dixie through the crowd of people on the dock. Several people glare at him accusingly, since he isn’t helping to unload the ship, but he could care less.
“Are the others there yet?” Matthew asks Dixie once they’ve freed themselves from the crowd.
“Yes, I only left in order to get you,” Dixie replies.
“What do they think is happening?” Matthew inquires as he and Dixie make their way down the cobbled streets of Crail toward the workshop.
“Maveric said that he only heard some of what the freighter’s captain said when they were calling ahead,” Dixie starts as she purses her lips. She sighs before continuing, “He said he didn’t like the sounds of it, but that’s all he would tell us.”
Matthew silently nods for a few moments before he eventually mutters loud enough for Dixie to hear, “Something isn’t right, that’s for sure.”
 If your curious about what happens next, then I have good news! 
You can get a copy for free!
Once again, I really need some more reviews, and you guys are some of the best candidates for them!
So, please be sure to either reply to this email with a request, or you can follow the link below to get a review copy. I really need reviews on Amazon Goodreads, and Bookbub, so please lend me a helping hand! I hope you all enjoy the story!
https://storyoriginapp.com/reviewcopies/092b8809-2e3b-4599-b1fb-2bdfda9e25c6Weekly Promo!
I am taking part in three group promos right now that I shared last week. If you forgot to check any of them out, or if you need something to read now, then this is your chance! 
I’ve also got a special single book promo at the end as well that I’d love for all of you to check out!Rockets and Sprockets Sci-Fi and Fantasy
Here’s a list of sci-fi books that you can get previews and full copies of for free! If you’re looking for something new to read, then this might just be the promo for you! There are also a few fantasy stories thrown into this huge collection of books.
This promo ends in a couple days, so go ahead and check it out!
https://storyoriginapp.com/to/rMRWt3ZSTARSCAPE
Here’s a BUNCH of sci-fi books for all of you! Yes, it’s more giveaways, so get ready for some freebies and new newsletter emails. 
If you’re looking for some new reads, maybe this is the promo for you!

Newsletter: Limit of Infinity Happenings 13.03.20

Sent out 13.03.2020 to 281 fans.

Friday the 13th (March 2020)Happy Friday the 13th!
I hope you all get to enjoy the full moon tonight…
And for those of you who are in some form of lockdown/quarantine/other emergency situations, then I’m right here with you!

In fact, it’s snowing where I am right now to make matters worse.

If I was an apocalypse author, I would be very happy right about now! Hahaha

I hope you are all well and that none of you get sick!Writer Update!I am just a few words away from finishing Allegra Episode Four! This episode has been very entertaining to write, and the series is nearing full-sprint! What has been the most exciting for me since my last email has been reading the new reviews I have gotten!
I would like to thank all of you who took me up on my invitation last week, your involvement has really helped me and my book’s rankings! 

I now have four reviews on my Allegra series on Amazon and one on both Goodreads and Bookbub. I also have several people who have reviews in the works, and I’m excited to see what they have to say!

So, Thank You all! Your help has been super helpful.

Newsletter: Limit of Infinity Happenings 27.03.20

Sent out 27.03.2020 to 308 fans

13 March 2020It’s Aloha Friday!


I hope you are all well and that the effects of the virus aren’t too severe for all of you!
*** ATTENTION! ***
As some of you already know, Amazon is a bit backed up due to the virus. Because of this, a lot of things will take longer to reach your home. Some of your purchases may take a lot longer. 
I received an email from Amazon that said their print services are suspended for the time being, so keep that in mind before you buy a new paperback book, as these will need to be printed. 
If you’re in a bind and need a book quick, please be sure to get an ebook instead! :)Writer Update!The Battle for Allegra: Relegated (Episode Four) is qued to be released this Tuesday! 
You can preorder Relegated right now with the below link. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0868FS645
 Once again, I would like to thank all of you who have left reviews on my various books lately, I’ve seen a lot of new reviews pop up, and I love them! Thank you all for your valuable input!Short Story!

Accolade 
Chapter Seven
Paradise, Galatia “Stalwarts,” The loudspeaker outside of the sim building sounds, waking Maverick up with a start. The announcement continues as he looks around the courtyard they are in, “Gather in the cafeteria immediately.”
 
            Content that everyone was still gathered around the sim complex, Maverick glances up to the sky. He has to squint slightly as the two suns bear down on he and his team. Judging by the suns’ positions, it was about noon, when meant they still were too early for lunch.
 
            “Great, I’m starving,” Tyson exclaims as he quickly rises to his feet. Several others join him, encouraged by the prospect of food.
 
            “It’s too early for that,” Maverick informs the others, “This must be about the newcomer.”
 
            “You mean the meat shield?” Jason McCollum offers with a cruel chuckle. No matter the situation, Jason managed to find some way to tell a dark joke about someone dying. Most everyone ignored the jokes, but that wasn’t always easy to do.
 
            “He’s not a meat shield,” Maverick assures the team as he shakes his head. He looks over to Sylvia, who is still sleeping, and whispers, “Time to get up,”
 
            “Then what else will he be good for?” Jason presses, “He hasn’t had any training!”
 
            “I’m sure he’ll manage,” Jake speaks up after, likely seeing that no one else was going to come to the defense of the newcomer.
 
            “Why’s that?” Meghan challenges.
 
            “I just have a feeling,” Jake offers, “Besides, they wouldn’t just send us out to die.”
 
            “I think that’s exactly what they’re doing,” Jason counters. He begins marching toward the cafeteria on his own, when he turns around, as if an idea just came to mind, “Unless you all think it’s going to be totally safe out there. No monsters, no savages, no nothing.”
 
            “That’s not what I meant,” Jake shakes his head.
 
Jason doesn’t stay to hear Jake’s defense, and he stalks off. Several others follow Jason anxiously, as they usually did after he thought he won an argument. This never ceased to annoy Maverick, who was the better leader. He didn’t think he was the best leader, per se, but Maverick knew he was better than Jason ever would be. Jason was a hothead, who seemingly only cared for himself. Several others saw that he was vying for the leadership role.
 
“Why the others follow him, I will never know,” Sylvia mutters under her breath as she shakes her head. She rises to her feet and walks a few steps before stopping and turning back to Maverick, “What’s wrong?”
 
“The ship the new guy came on, Maverick starts as he points toward the hangar, “It was on fire.”
 
“On fire?” Sylvia asks as she tilts her head to the side.
 
“Yeah, it looked like they were hit, or something,” Maverick nods absently. He pauses, still off put by Jason’s words. Looking down, Maverick thinks to himself, I bet Jason just wants to be in charge so he can rub my nose in it. He doesn’t care about the others. At least not like I do.
 
            “Maybe they just haven’t been keeping their ships maintained,” Sylvia offers, “I mean, just look at this place. They keep the grass cut, but the buildings aren’t doing too hot.”
 
            “I don’t think so,” Maverick maintains, “It didn’t look like that.”
 
            “Well, I’m sure the newbie will tell us all about it,” Sylvia announces with a smile, “Come on!”
 
            Maverick stands, and nods at Sylvia. As always, she was right. If Maverick had it his way, he’d have Sylvia in charge. The girl had a knack for it, the only issue was that she wouldn’t speak to anyone other than him. Sure, she’d say one or two things to the others every now and then, but that was rare.
 
            “What do you think the new guy is like?” Meghan asks once she sees that Sylvia was done talking.
 
            “I hope he’s cute,” Anne butts in with a wink.
 
            “We don’t even know if it’s a guy yet,” Maverick chuckles as Meghan gives Anne a jealous look. Meghan had made it clear to the group on several occasions that the next guy who joined the team was hers. She repeated time and time again that she had dibs.
 
            “Oh, it’s a guy alright,” Meghan announces, standing her ground. She continues as she sniffs the air, “I can smell him.”
 
            Maverick laughs and the others within earshot at Meghan’s act. The girl had a way with catching you off-guard with the strangest jokes. Shaking his head, Maverick turns to look back at the hangar, which was still sealed off. Oddly enough, there had been no alarms, or much of anything else, when the gunship arrived. It was almost as if no one was worried about being attacked. No, the savages had never attacked a city, but that didn’t mean they never would. Their attacks had grown more bold, as of late. As far as Maverick could tell, they took a shot at least half of the ships that visited.
 
            “Let’s get in there and find out,” Maverick instructs those who had remained after Jason left, “Maybe they’ll give us an early lunch as well.”
 
            “If you don’t like him, can I have him?” Anne asks Meghan with a hopeful look.
 
            “If I don’t like him, I’ll kill him myself,” Meghan replies flatly. Maverick gives her a sidelong glance in concern. After a few moments, he still can’t tell if Meghan was kidding.
 
            “You could have just said lunch,” Tyson laughs, doing his best to ignore Meghan’s comment.
 
            “I wish I had,” Maverick breathes back to Tyson with a chuckle.
 
            “Should we keep an eye on her?” Jake whispers once he and Maverick had started for the cafeteria.
 
            “I heard that,” Meghan whispers as she brushes past Jake. She continues with a wink, “Welcome to my hit list.”
 
            Jake stops dead in his tracks as Meghan continues on into the cafeteria. He looks over to Maverick with a look of fear in his eyes. Jake and Maverick were some of the few people who knew why Meghan was sent to Paradise. As the story went, Meghan killed somebody from her Dome. Of course, they didn’t know the whole story, but they knew just enough to be scared.
 
            “You’re fine,” Maverick tells Jake after a beat, “She was kidding.”
 
            “We don’t know that,” Jake counters after he ensures Meghan is out of earshot.
 
            Maverick shakes his head with a chuckle and enters the cafeteria. Inside, he immediately notices that all of the tables are nearly buried in all sorts of gear. Everything from empty packs to notebooks are heaped into great piles, seemingly without any organization at all. At the front of the cafeteria stands the Warden, a few guards, and several officers. Standing in front of them is a kid about Maverick’s age, who he assumes is the newcomer.

 
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I’ve got a lot of group promos going this week, and I will likely continue to share these through the week as I am sure many of you will be stuck at home. How the End Began
Here’s a review copy of a short story from one of my fellow authors!
What makes this book most interesting (at least to me) is the fact that it takes place in Portland! That’s just a few miles from where I live!

Newsletter: Entertainment for Quarantine-ees 1.04.20

Sent out 01.04.2020 to 317 fans.

1 April 2020I just learned of an awesome deal on Amazon today! 
Oh, and book four of The Battle for Allegra was released yesterday! 
And if you’ve already read that one, then I have good news, episode five is nearing completion. I am also anticipating a box set release of season one of The Battle for Allegra. AWESOME AMAZON DEAL!
So, this is the amazing deal I just found out about. Sadly, it is almost over.

Accolade – Chapter Four

Roland Dixon



Sector Four, Galatia

“It’s almost go time,” Flin Noble, reminds the group as they all huddle in a clearing, awaiting their signal.

No one really liked Flin, who is a thirty-something-year-old hunter who acts like one of those old men who assumes everyone else is incompetent. Flin had started tagging along nearly a year ago on Roland Dixon’s reconnaissance missions, which truly were just sporadic guerrilla missions. Flin had orders from Roland’s father, Kyle Dixon, the leader of their village, to watch out for Roland on his missions.

This is insane, Roland thinks for the millionth time that morning. Why his dad even allowed Roland enough freedom to try these hair-brained suicide missions, he would never know. Roland checks his jerry-rigged cannon once more, ensuring the shell was in fact all set for go time. He enjoyed the feeling of pride that welled up inside his chest after successful attacks, but every moment up to that was stressful. Despite his youth, all his stress had given Roland quite a few grey hairs, which he still couldn’t wear with pride. Roland lets out a shaking breath as he whispers to himself, “Just like last time,”

“What was that?” Julius Mallory asks from behind Roland. Roland had been with Julius as long as he could remember, Julius was always the first to support any idea Roland thought up. Julius stood several inches taller than Roland, was built like a tank. Julius commanded the respect of everyone around, yet he followed Roland like a good soldier. Why he was so willing to blindly follow orders, Roland wasn’t sure, but he respected the absolute allegiance and did his best to treat everyone who followed him well.

“I said, ‘Just like last time,’” Roland repeats with a stronger voice, he never let people know when his nerves were getting to him.

“Just like last time,” Julius repeats to himself, evidently also in need of the encouragement.

“Well, at least the last one didn’t shoot back,” Comes the always cheerful voice of Nick Corinth, another one of the six who are about Roland’s age. Nick was always the first to point out the bright side and to keep morale up. Roland couldn’t see how Nick kept his positivity, he had lost both his parents, three of his four siblings and every animal he ever took as a pet.

“Let’s hope this one doesn’t too,” Roland responds as he slowly nods his head. Never expecting anything to come easily, he continues, loud enough to be heard in the treetops, “How’s the perimeter Ki’etz?”

“Perimeter is good, Rolls,” Warren Ki’etz calls back down from his treetop perch. He and his twin sister Astrid always called Roland ‘Rolls,’ evidently, they liked the way it sounded.

The Ki’etz twins are some of the few off-worlders on Galatia, stranded after some malfunction led to his crash landing back when he was just a baby. Roland only had a few faint memories of that day, like watching a trail of smoke follow the ship as it crashed. Roland also remembered seeing teams going out to rescue everyone they could, but the twins were the only ones they brought back.

“Ash?” Roland calls to the treetops opposite of Warren to Astrid. He came up with the nickname a few years back on their first ‘mission’ where he and his group snuck out to hunt a hybrid one night. The group was huddled around a campfire trying their hands at camouflage and Astrid used some ashes for hers, and it stuck. Since then, Astrid always kept some charcoal streaks on her face. She insisted it made her look fiercer and she fondly called it her war paint.

“Clear,” Astrid calls down as she swings down from her treetop. As she makes her way down, she is silhouetted against the sun which is starting to peek through the dense canopy of trees. Nearing the ground, she lets go of the rope. She rolls as she hits the ground and quickly stands back up. This caught Roland’s attention because Astrid was nowhere near that graceful usually. With a brief glance toward Roland, she quickly walks away and takes a casual sip of water. Knowing that Roland was watching, she flips her blonde hair out of her face and continues, “Besides, the hybrids never bother us during the day. Not anymore at least.”

“Show off,” Haley Ryder mutters under her breath as she struggles to strap the last of the team’s supplies to one of their horses. Haley always did her best to ensure the team would be prepared for anything, so she’d busy herself prepping for quick getaways if things went south whenever she could. She decided that preparations were the only thing she could do since she physically couldn’t do much else.

Haley’s parents were the first of the growing population of exiled Domers. For some reason, the Coalition had started sending people outside of their walled cities about twenty years ago. Those exiles never lasted long outside of their walls since they never knew what to expect in the outside world. To complicate things, the Coalition started bombing survivors and exiles shortly after they were released. The steady stream of exiles since then allowed all of Roland’s people information about the cities, which was always valuable.

From what Roland had gathered, the Coalition refused to let their people know that they were not alone in the galaxy. Every exile was amazed when they learned that the Coalition isolated them inside of the Domes when there were countless other planets that could sustain them.

Roland, like all the exiles, had never been off Galatia. He wasn’t a Domer, he was born and raised out here in the wilds. But, the Coalition didn’t let people off-planet, and Roland intended to change that. He had seen several ships get shot down by the Coalition over the years while people tried to get off-planet. Some appeared to be Coalition ships, some didn’t, but none of them made it.

Every ship he and his team shot down promised more and more supplies to rebuild the remains of a starship Roland found in an abandoned spaceport several years back. He had been so excited when he found that ship because all of the crash sites from the ones he had seen the Coalition shoot down were beyond repair. There was rarely much of anything left.

“Here they come!” Warren calls down as he tears his attention away from his favorite binoculars, “You ready?”

“Ready,” Roland replies once he tears his eyes away from Astrid.

“Coming in from the southwest!” Warren reports.

“Southwest, got it,” Roland mutters, mostly to himself. Leaning over, Roland busies himself with the weapon he is about to use. He exhales slowly, trying to relax as he prepares to fire.

“Almost in range,” Warren reports expectantly, “Same type of ship as usual.”

“Got it,” Roland repeats with a slight smile. He would only need a couple more ships like this and he would be able to leave once and for all. Roland stares at the screen in front of him which is providing him with some readings from his cannon. The screen, like the rest of the gun, isn’t too well off. Half of the screen is dead, and the other half was pretty close to it.

“You got it?” Warren shouts from his perch.

“Got it!” Roland responds, just loud enough to be heard. As he spoke, his screen flashes indicating that the Coalition ship had come into view. Roland takes another breath to steady himself once more. Once he’s calm, he rests his finger on the weapon’s trigger. He takes a sharp breath and holds it in as he makes a final adjustment to his aim.

“What’s up with Astrid?” Flin asks, startling Roland.

“Shush!” Roland demands. Irritated, he turns back to the task at hand and manages to get let off a few poorly aimed shots at the passing ship.

“You got it!” Warren reports ecstatically.

“I told you to leave me be when I’m shooting!” Roland yells at Flin. He stands from the cannon and begins pacing angrily as he massages the bridge of his nose, “Why did my dad have to send you of all—”

“It’s not coming down!” Warren shouts, “You only took out one of their engines!”

“Now look at what you did!” Roland demands as he slams a fist through one of the wooden ammo crates that held the few remaining rounds they had for their cannon, “Not only did they get away, but we wasted what few rounds we had left!”

“I’m sorry,” Flin starts, “I was just—”

“No,” Roland cuts him off, “You’re done. Go home.”

“Your father told me—”

“I don’t care what my father told you. You are done. Go home.”

“But I—”

“Home,” Roland seethes.

“Sorry,” Flin whimpers before turning tail and making for the horses. He glances back at Roland once he is at his horse.

“Go!” Roland shouts angrily when he notices that Flin had paused, “I don’t need you, and I never will!”

Flin winces slightly at Roland’s harsh words but complies. That was one thing Flin was good at. He knew when he needed to make a swift getaway. Roland takes an unsteady breath before turning to the rest of his team. They all look to them expectantly, and also with a slight look of concern.

“Hey Rolls,” Warren starts as he slowly works his way out of the tree he was in, “Why don’t we move this thing before they send in a team to move it for us.”

“Good idea,” Roland nods, thankful for Warren giving him something else to focus on. That was one thing Warren was good at; he could read a situation and always find the best way out.

“That was a little harsh,” Haley whispers once everyone leaves her and Roland to break camp, “Wouldn’t you say?”

“He ruined my shot,” Roland reminds her as he shakes his head. Grabbing the ammo crate he had punched a hole in, he continues, “And I’ve told him a thousand times to leave me alone when I’m taking a shot!”

“But you never let him talk,” Haley points out.

“And why should I?” Roland counters as he slams his palms on the top of the crate, “The guy is the biggest pain I’ve ever met!”

“I’m sure he meant well,” Haley offers, “We all mess up sometimes.”

“You don’t,” Roland acknowledges. He shakes his head slightly as he continues, “Not anymore at least.”

“That’s because I hardly do anything anymore,” Haley mutters as she scowls slightly. Her scowl becomes a frown as she somberly adds, “I can hardly get dressed in the morning anymore, after that blasted attack.”

“But what you do is done well,” Roland offers, trying to console Haley.

Haley remains silent as she looks down at her tattered body. She was covered in scars and had lost several of her fingers. She was a lot better off now than she had been when Roland found her two years ago, but she was still bad off. She had been the only survivor of her group of Domers, the Coalition had killed the rest in some sick bombing run. If it wasn’t for Roland, she would be dead today.

“Rolls,” Warren calls from behind, “We cleaning up, or not?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Roland chuckles, allowing his mood to lift at Warren’s teasing. He starts lifting the ammo crate, but as he does so, it nearly disintegrates in his hands. Munitions and rotten pieces of wood shower to the ground. Grinding his molars and closing his eyes, Roland mutters, “Great,”

“It’s ok,” Haley offers as she slowly crouches down. Pain streaks across her face as she makes the move. She bites her lip before she slowly continues, “We… can clean this up.”

“Thanks,” Roland nods, knowing how much it hurt Haley to crouch like this. She wasn’t anywhere near as flexible as she used to be, thanks to all of the damage the bombing had done. With all of the tendons and ligaments that had been severed, it was a miracle she could move at all.

“Ready when you are, boss,” Astrid calls from behind. Roland glances back in time to see Astrid staring angrily at Haley who was on the ground with Roland. When she notices Roland looking at her, she snaps her attention away from Haley and nods at Roland. She then spins around and disappears into the foliage at the edge of their camp.

“We’re almost done here,” Roland reassures the others, “We have to save every round we have until we can salvage more from a wreck.”

“Need any help?” Julius offers when he sees Haley struggling to pick up much of anything. Because of her injuries, her fingers didn’t work very well. She would fumble around with anything for several seconds before she could get a hold of it. The struggle always served to frustrate her further and deepen the inner pain she was going through.

“Nope, we’ve got them all,” Roland announces as he bags the last round. He helps Haley to her feet as he closes his eyes as he mentally kicks himself for letting Haley help him.

“Alright, let’s mount up!” Nick calls out to the others gleefully. There were few things Nick loved more than riding his horse. As far as Nick was concerned, the faster he could go, and the denser the trees, the better.

“Let’s find a new spot for our gun!” Roland instructs the others before whistling for Haley’s horse. The horse trots over, and Roland plants Haley in the saddle before continuing, “After that, let’s see if we can ambush any teams the Coalition send looking for us!”

Take Me to Chapter Five

Accolade – Chapter Three

Gideon Lennox



Sector Three, Galatia

“Rise and shine, Mister Lennox,” a voice calls, drawing Gideon out of his sleep.

“What? Where am I?” Gideon demands as he sits up suddenly. He tries to swing himself out of the cot he is in, but finds himself strapped in at his wrists and ankles. He gives a half-hearted effort to free himself from the bindings. He sighs, knowing he can’t get himself free any time soon, at least not without something sharp.

“You’re on your way to Paradise,” the voice continues from a nearby speaker, which Gideon glares at.

“Paradise?” Gideon asks, only partially listening as he scans the whitewashed room around him. The room is almost entirely empty, save a tray on his right which has an array of medical gizmos and drugs. Along with the various tools are a syringe, which Gideon figures will serve as his sharp object. Sadly, no other pieces of equipment were sharp enough to cut himself loose.

“Yes, Paradise,” the voice answers after a brief pause, “Home of the Stalwart Project, congratulations on partaking in this monumental opportunity.”

“What happened?” Gideon asks. As he goes for the syringe, Gideon winces slightly as his bindings bite into the wrist he is reaching with.

“Your questions will be answered shortly,” the voice responds after another pause. Gideon then realizes the voice was probably one of those AIs that would be given only a handful of responses to a handful of questions. When they were asked something that they didn’t have a pre-written response for, the AIs would provide a vague response like the one he was just given.

“What is the Stalwart Program?” Gideon decides to continue asking questions to see what all he was allowed to know. He was curious to know about what was happening to him. As far as Gideon was concerned, he might as well keep the AI occupied as he busied himself with escaping. Gideon gives up on reaching for the syringe with his hand and resolves on trying to get it with his mouth. Straining against all of his bindings, he stretches his body, desperate for a chance to get free.

“The Stalwart Program was set in place two years ago as an effort to tame the wilds outside of civilization,” the AI answers, “By doing so, mankind might be able to retake the planet.”

“And why do we need to leave the Domes?” Gideon asks, briefly pausing from his attempts for the syringe. Gideon feels like he’s bobbing for apples, something he had learned he was very poor at from the various birthday parties he went to through the years. After quite a few attempts, the glass of the syringe finally finds itself between his teeth.

“Your questions will be answered shortly,” the AI answers.

“How shortly?” Gideon asks, dropping the syringe to his waiting hand from his mouth as he lays himself back down. He quickly begins breaking the threads of his bindings with the tip of the syringe.

“Your questions will be answered shortly.” the AI repeats.

“Why am I tied up?” Gideon inquires as he tests the weakened fabric on his wrist. When the cloth holds firm against his efforts, Gideon returns to breaking the individual threads of his bindings with his needle.

“For your safety,” the AI sounds.

“My safety?” Gideon asks, bemused. He tests the fabric again and manages to rip his arm free as quietly as possible. He then feverously sets to work on freeing his other hand.

“Yes, the journey to Paradise can often be treacherous,” the AI answers.

“How treacherous?” Gideon continues questioning the AI. He quickly frees his left hand and busies himself with untying his ankles.

“It is impossible to travel between compounds and cities without adequate transport.” the AI offers.

“What is it like? Like, what are the wilds like?” Gideon excitedly asks. He genuinely wanted to find out what it was like outside of the Dome. He wanted to discover if his dreams are at all accurate to the world beyond the walls. Seconds later, Gideon frees his feet and he swings them to the floor. To Gideon, the cold tiles underfoot feel a lot nicer than the bindings had. He quickly stands and makes his way toward the sole door leading into the room he is in.

“The wilds are an untamed land, set to be colonized by the Stalwarts.” the AI answers simply, filling Gideon with even more questions.

“What’s a Stalwart supposed to be anyways?” Gideon asks as he tests the handle on the door. Locked, but it was still worth a try, He thinks as he turns back the tray of tools. Browsing his selection, he wonders what he could use as an improvised screwdriver to remove the handle. He had never learned how to pick a lock, per se, but he did know how to take apart a door.

“A Stalwart is a capable young adult,” the AI begins in what seems to be some sort of speech, “They are unlike those they grew up with. They are, in one way or another, stronger, faster, smarter. Their strength is what made the Governor set them aside as Stalwarts. They are the strongest of humanity. Their purpose is to retake the wilds of the planet.”

“Good speech,” Gideon compliments the AI in a mocking tone as he chuckles. Clearly, the AI didn’t read my file, Gideon thinks as he leans against the cot he was in. Once again, he takes an inventory of everything on the tray. I’m a dangerous criminal now, after all. Gideon laughs aloud at the absurdity of his last thought.

Just a day ago he had been a law-abiding student. No, he wasn’t the best student—he made sure of that much—but he wasn’t one to break the rules. Now, he was marked as a criminal for doing who knows what.

Gideon had never questioned the government, he had always figured those who did were mentally unstable. Now that he had seen a glimpse of the dark side of the Coalition, Gideon found himself questioning everything he had once held as true. After a few beats, Gideon then asks a question that had been bothering him for a few minutes now, “How many other Stalwarts are there in this place called Paradise?”

“There are currently two hundred other youths in the Stalwart Program of Paradise. You will be the thirtieth member of a team that will be mobilized shortly.” the AI answers.

“Their team?” Gideon prods as he jerry-rigs a screwdriver out of the packaging for one of the various drugs. Gideon returns to the door and sets about unscrewing its handle.

“The Stalwart Program encourages teamwork to overcome the wilderness,” The AI begins, “Stalwarts are expected to complete all training activities as a coherent unit.”

“How long until we are sent into the wilds?” Gideon asks as he pops the first screw out of the door handle.

“The Stalwarts will be sent into the wilderness on the fourteenth of April at 18:00 hours,” The AI answers.

“Wait, what?” Gideon asks, stopping dead in his tracks. Before he had fallen asleep, it had been the thirteenth, and he was fairly certain that he had slept through the night. Concerned, he then asks the AI, “Isn’t today the fourteenth?”

“Yes,” The AI responds simply.

“So, I’m going to be sent out with the others in just a few hours?” Gideon asks in alarm. His fear causes him to have to slow down on unscrewing the remaining screw so he can steady his hands. He takes a deep breath and finishes off the screw, now focusing on silently removing the handle so he can escape.

“That is correct, Mister Lennox,” The AI replies.

“Won’t I get any training before I’m thrown out there?” Gideon demands as he silently sets the locking mechanism onto the hard tiles.

“That is correct,” The AI responds.

“Just a few hours of training, great. Not like my life depends on it,” Gideon complains as he removes the door’s latch and sets it next to the lock and handle. He smiles as he remembers the first time he took apart a door handle to get out of a locked room.

Gideon had been five when his dad had first shown him his way around a door, or more accurately, through a door. That lesson had been one of many where Gideon learned all of his dad’s tricks with common household objects. Ever since Gideon had gotten into high school, he hadn’t been able to spend much time with his father. His dad was at work nearly every day and into the night, he was almost never home. All he would tell Gideon was that the city needed him to do his job to keep everyone safe. Gideon was told his dad did maintenance all around the city. Because of his job, Gideon’s dad knew all the ins and outs of the city’s operation and would share interesting tidbits that he picked up on the job when he wasn’t asleep.

What Gideon was taught, he held on to. Every lesson his dad taught him he applied to his surroundings. From all the tricks his dad taught him, Gideon quickly became the best in class for all the hands-on projects his teachers threw at him. His career counselor told him that because of his skills, he would be admitted to one of the planet’s technical schools. His counselor would always tell him, ‘That’s just the start, the heavens are the limit for you!’ Gideon didn’t know why she said that ‘the heavens are the limit,’ when most everyone said ‘the sky’s the limit.’ However, he had always let it slide, ‘People are quirky,’ he’d tell himself.

Gideon eases the door open and slides out silently. Outside of his room, Gideon finds himself in a cramped corridor with all sorts of wires and pipes running alongside the perforated steel walkway. A host of blinking colorful lights illuminate the catwalk from beneath the floor panels and Gideon finds himself completely lost. Turning left, Gideon starts down the corridor, figuring he would stumble across something eventually.

After wandering for far too long, Gideon finds himself underneath a sign which read Maintenance and he slips through, unable to fight the urge to check out this particular room. He had passed several other rooms in his exploration of what he now believes is a Coalition hovercraft, one of the big ones he occasionally saw on the Founders’ Day celebration every Eighth of August.

“Can’t believe we are doing this again,” a voice resounds from down the narrow corridor Gideon is about to enter. The voice echoes off of the many metallic surfaces in the hovercraft. Gideon was surprised he could hear the comment above the constant hum of the engines. Gideon gently eases the door shut behind himself as he quickly searches for signs of whoever had spoken.

“Please, not this again,” comes a quiet plea from someone else.

Gideon continues down the corridor, assumedly away from the voices. He has to resist the temptation to eavesdrop, which was something he had always struggled with. After all, why would someone talk loud enough for others to hear, if they didn’t want everyone to know what they were saying?

“We are exiling children and telling them that they are soldiers!” the first voice continues with its protests, “And it’s all for what? Keeping the streets free of kids being kids?”

“You know we shouldn’t be having this conversation…” the second voice warns. Gideon stops at the base of a ladder and looks up to what appears to be daylight, pausing, he gives in to his urge to listen in on the duo which are somewhere behind him.

“Or what? They’ll send us out too?” the first voice demands.

“I don’t know what, Clo. I don’t ask questions,” the second voice responds after a thoughtful pause.

“Don’t you, ‘I don’t know, Clo,’ me,” the first voice who must belong to Clo promptly fires back. Judging by the tone of voice, Gideon imagines that Clo could have delivered her retort with a scornful look and hands on her hips. Gideon can’t help a slight grin from spreading across his face as he hears the other person struggle for a response.

“Well I- it’s just… it isn’t my place to know everything,” the second voice eventually pieces its response together.

Gideon flies up the ladder that leads between him and the daylight above. Once at the top, he hoists himself out of the opened service hatch and into an open cabin which is illuminated by several large windows along one wall.

“It doesn’t have to be your place for you to be curious, Jackson,” Clo chides, “Sometimes you just need to know some things.”

“You’ve said as much before…” the second voice which must belong to Jackson reminds Clo.

Gideon tunes out all the noises around him as he walks toward the windows as if he was in a trance. One step at a time he feels his eyes grow wider and wider as he takes in the outside world.

“It’s everything I dreamed it was,” Gideon whispers to himself, awestruck by the sight, he continues with a chuckle “I wonder how big those trees are up close…”

Gideon watches the forests race below him for several moments before he allows his eyes to wander to the white peaks of mountains along the horizon. The only landscapes he had ever seen like this were in pictures from old storybooks, Gideon finds himself speechless as he takes it all in for the first time. Strange straight scars in the treetops crisscross through the forest below, disappearing into the distance in every direction. Whatever the lines were, they had to of had a purpose. Before long, a blue river enters Gideon’s field of vision and he fixates on it. At peace, Gideon’s eyes follow the winding blue thread’s tail back to the mountains as far as he can track it.

Gideon begins walking toward the front of the ship, figuring he could figure out what was happening a lot easier there. The whole time, he refuses to take his eyes off of the beauty outside that he had been starved of for his entire life. The expanse of greenery below him goes on for what seems like forever, hemmed in only by the mountains that Gideon can only describe as majestic.

Gideon catches his breath as he realizes that he hadn’t even seen the sky before, and his eyes turn to the heavens. The sky holds a gentle aqua blue and whispers of white clouds dot the skies as far as Gideon can see. The sun shines with a slight green tint and Gideon presses his hand against the window to feel its warmth. Closing his eyes, Gideon smiles broadly as the familiar feeling of peace from his dreams fills him.

“I remember my first time,” a feminine voice says from behind Gideon after several moments, starling him. Gideon swings around and stares the intruder in the eyes as he contemplates whether he should talk, fight, or run. The intruder continues as she casually approaches the window next to Gideon, “It all looks so peaceful from up here,”

Gideon swallows a lump in his throat as he stutters, “W-who are you?”

“I am Commander Hayes, and this is my ship,” the woman, Commander Hayes, responds. She continues staring out at the world beyond the window absently for a few moments. Eventually, she chuckles and continues, “And you, Mister Lennox, are not supposed to be up here,”

“Well, I-uh,” Gideon starts, unsure of what he should say.

“Don’t worry about it, we have bigger matters to attend to.”

“Like what?”

“Your training,”

“Oh, right,” Gideon sighs as he remembers what the AI had said about the limited training he would receive.

“It isn’t that bad, you’ll pull through,” Hayes says as she taps Gideon’s shoulder encouragingly.

Gideon tries not to roll his eyes as he wonders if this woman had even seen the outside world up close like he was about to. No amount of encouragement could overcome Gideon’s fear that the beasts from beyond the Dome were as terrifying as those in his dreams. With all of the attention that his drawing attracted, Gideon found himself terrified. No weak attempt of telling himself the creatures weren’t as horrifying as the image could convince him otherwise. He was doomed.

He silently follows Commander Hayes as she leads him down a corridor that branches off from where they had been. Gideon had entertained the thought of making a run for it but decided it would be best if he made the most of his time here. He figured that he had no real chance of escaping the craft, so that meant his next best bet was to stay alive long enough for his next opportunity.

“Now, I know things don’t look so hot for you in your eyes, but I am here to help you all I can while you’re here,” Hayes tells Gideon in a hushed voice, losing her previous formality, “I want you to pull through, and to help keep the others alive, especially my daughter.”

Gideon looks to the Commander skeptically, his interest piqued. Why would a Coalition Commander have her daughter taken? He wonders, A nameless kid like me, sure, but the daughter of a Commander? Phew.

“Yes, my daughter is part of the program,” Hayes cedes, guiding Gideon into a brightly lit room which, like the rest of the ship, is lightly furnished. All Gideon can see is two chairs and a small table which is ladened with a large assortment of supplies. Hayes stops at the table and picks up a length of rope, “Now, let’s get to it,”

“Who is your daughter?” Gideon asks as he takes some rope of his own and slowly matches the Commander’s quick movements as she tangles the rope up in seemingly no pattern.

“You’ll know,” she says simply. Smiling, she holds up the tangle of rope she had made and announces, “This is a snare, it’s good for catching small game, almost useless for the bigger things out there though.”

“The bigger things?” Gideon asks, trying not to sound as scared as he truly was.

“From what I hear, you know what they look like,” Hayes says as she reaches over and straightens out Gideon’s rope, helping him finish his own snare. Once she rescues his attempt, she nods with a smile. After noting Gideon’s look of confusion and concern, she offers, “Want to watch me do it again?”

“Please,” Gideon says embarrassed. He had never been the best at tying knots. Even tying his shoes took him years to finally figure out, it wasn’t until intermediary school that he finally figured it out. He matches Hayes’ slower movements and smiles as the tangle of rope makes more sense this time around.

“You’re picked that up fast,” Hayes praises Gideon after he ties a snare on his own. Pausing, she continues weaving the rope in a different way, “How about this one?”

Gideon silently matches the Commander’s movements through several different knots. He can’t help but smile as he figures one knot after the other. Maybe I’ll be able to make it out there at this rate, He thinks confidently.

Take Me to Chapter Four

Accolade – Chapter Two

Maverick Gracian



Paradise, Galatia

“Congratulations, you have shown that you are capable young adults,” A recording wakes Maverick Gracian from another restless nights’ sleep.

“Why me?” Maverick whispers to himself in defeat. He looks over to a clock on the other side of the room and sees that it is five in the morning. He was getting tired of the early mornings and hoped against all hope that he would be able to rest soon. But, after three months of the early mornings, he was getting used to it.

“You are all unlike those you grew up with, you are, in one way or another, stronger, faster, smarter. Your strength is what made the governor set you all aside as Stalwarts, the strongest of humanity. Your purpose is to retake the wilds of the planet.” The recording continues, waking the barracks’ occupants for the final time.

They only had a few more hours behind the safety of Paradise’s walls. The recording goes on for a little while, telling of several more things, but Maverick couldn’t make out the words over everyone’s voices, which wasn’t uncommon. They didn’t care what the Coalition had to tell them. It was the Coalition that sent them here, this waypoint on their way to their certain deaths.

“Ah, shut up,” Maverick complains, throwing one of his boots at a nearby speaker. He swings his legs over the side of his bunk and hops down from the top bunk.

“Every stupid morning…” Tyson O’Connell complains, holding his pillow over his head to block out the same old Coalition anthem, which always follows the wakeup call.

“There we go,” Jake Hendrix says once the music shuts off, several minutes short of the full anthem. He stands from a wall panel he removed to cut the audio cables yet another time. Jake’s struggle against the early morning wakeup call had been going on since he had arrived. Every morning Jake would cut the wires, they would be fixed during the day, and then Jake would cut them again at lights out. Unfortunately, the base’s staff was quick to repair the cut wires, and other vandalized equipment.

“Mister Hendrix,” The Stalwart Project’s Director, Marissa Stone, says as she steps into the barracks, “Why do you have to do this every day?”

“Because I want to sleep, Warden,” Jake says simply, using the group’s nickname for the director as he replaces the wall panel. They had called her ‘Director’ up until Maveric joined them and nicknamed her ‘Warden.’ He leans up against the panel and continues, “On top of that, I just want to go home and be done with all this.”

“You know we can’t do that,” Director Stone chides, “You were sent here for a reason, we can’t just throw that away,”

“Why can’t we?” Jake mumbles, “We got thrown away,”

“What was that, Mister Hendrix?” Director Stone asks in a tone that told the group she had heard the comment and was very unhappy.

“Nothing, Warden,” Jake surrenders, knowing it was always best to just give in to the Director. Several kids in the past had stood up to the Director, and, as the story went, they were sent home. The thing was, none of those kids ever actually made it home. One way or another, something led to their disappearances.

“Good,” Director Stone smiles. Spinning on her heels, she continues stepping out of the barracks, “You are expected to complete an eight-mile run through the compound’s environment simulation before this afternoon. The final member of your team will be joining you today during lunch today.”

“What about breakfast?” Tyson asks, concern in his voice. Tyson is one of the kids who needed food about as often as he needed to breath, a real black hole for food whenever it was around.

“Find some in the sim,” The Director calls back mockingly. She had recently started using the group’s term ‘sim’ which was short for the endless simulations they were forced to go through, “We trained you to find food, put it to good use.”

“I hate that woman,” Maverick mutters once he is confident she is out of earshot, “That’ll be the only perk to being stuck outside of the wall, we’ll be far away from her.”

“You said it,” Sylvia Hayes calls from her corner of the barracks, Gideon watches her as she gracefully hops down from her top bunk.

Sylvia had reserved her bunk, along with the one below her to ensure that she could always monitor everything going on. Maverick suspected Sylvia also kept the bunk below her empty, so she didn’t have to be any closer to anyone else than she had to. Sylvia had ensured that she was an outsider, and she seemed to like it that way. She even concealed her last name from the others. Maverick was told that she revealed that her name was Sylvia a few months back, long after she had arrived. Why she kept so much to herself, Maverick couldn’t be sure, but he was happy she didn’t keep everything from him, as she did with the rest. He must have made a good impression in his first few days.

Some nights, when the lights in the barracks were out, people would start whispering. They would share their deepest fears, thoughts, and hopes, emboldened by the darkness and its anonymity. Most everyone agreed in those darkened discussions that Sylvia would be the best off outside of the wall. Something about her just made everyone feel like she would be better off than they were, they would also ramble on as the hours passed and usually would start talking about how Maverick and Sylvia ought to get together.

The first night Maverick heard them start in on that, he had listened carefully. After all, he was curious as to why they thought he and Sylvia should be a couple. At the end of it, he found himself torn. On the one hand, they were right, the two of them did get along better than all the rest in the compound. They seemed to be cut from the same cloth too, which made it even easier to get along with each other. But, on the other hand, Maverick wasn’t here to get into a relationship. He was here to learn to survive, and how to lead the others as best he could to keep them alive too. Survival was his mission, not frivolous emotions.

But they do have a point, The unshakable thought resurfaces in Maverick’s head, Sylvia and I would be a great match. Maverick shakes his head, trying to get the thought out of his head. He had known Sylvia for a while now, and he had to admit he was very impressed by everything she did. She could be dancing during their rare Friday night rec or be chugging the compound’s filthy brown tap water and look good doing it.

Maverick had resolved to just avoid looking at her after he had first overheard what everyone thought. No need to encourage gossip like Maverick falling for one of his teammates. The problem, however, was that no matter what he did, Sylvia still ended up being everywhere he looked. Occasionally Maverick would steal a glance in her direction, and she would sneak a glance back, they would both blush and sheepishly look away. Sylvia’s embarrassed grin which would peek through her dark, untamable bang always drove Maverick crazy. Someone always noticed, and that always resulted in another night of talks about he and Sylvia in the barracks after lights out.

“Alright love birds, we got business to attend to,” Meghan Capernaum taunts Maverick and Sylvia who quickly break their eye contact and get back to gathering their belongings to get ready before the day. Meghan proceeds to lead the way to their locker rooms, and everyone slowly follows her lead.

“Dude, you’ve gotta say something to her,” Jake whispers, elbowing Maverick as Sylvia steps out with a bundle of clothes under her arm, “We don’t have much longer here, so you have to make the most of it!”

“Or I could focus on what we should be doing,” Maverick counters, grabbing his toothbrush and starts heading for the doorway, “Besides, I don’t want to be on the Warden’s bad side.”

“She has a good side?” Jake asks jokingly as they round the corner out of their barracks into the open, humid air of Paradise.

“Well, I guess she has a less bad side,” Maverick offers with a shrug. He stops dead in his tracks and takes a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air, “You know man, this air definitely beats the air back at home. It’s actually fresh.”

“What are you talking about?” Jake asks, skeptically shaking his head, “You’re weird man. Real weird.”

“Come on, you’ve never just enjoyed the clean air?”

“Nope, air is air,”

“Nevermind then,” Maverick cedes, walking the rest of the way to the Stalwart locker room in silence.

Take Me to Chapter Three

Accolade – Chapter One

Gideon Lennox



Leburt, Galatia

Everyone dreams of leaving the protection of the Dome at least once. They literally dream of leaving the Dome. However, there is an unspoken rule that you are to never, ever, share your dream. Gideon Lennox had dreamt many times of the “other side” as some referred to it. Of course, they never spoke of the dreams, instead, it was just wishful thinking of finally getting out.

Because of this rule Gideon refused to mention the dreams to anyone. The only time Gideon had even heard a whisper of an “other side” dream, was a kid from his old neighborhood, he described a barren landscape where even plants couldn’t grow. He told the neighborhood kids that as he walked in his dream through the desert he found skeletons piled high. Gideon remembered shuddering at the thought of piles of the dead. That the next day, his parents told him the kid was dead.

Every one of Gideon’s dreams of the outside of the Dome were very different from the kid’s. Every night, Gideon dreams of forests teeming with trees which tower overhead as they reach for the sky. He finds himself alone in serene meadows with rolling hills and colorful, delicate wildflowers which sway gently in the warm breeze. Gideon wanders through abandoned cities that have been reclaimed by the wilderness around them as trees and foliage line the roadways and contribute to the city’s skyline. No matter where Gideon finds himself, he feels a calmness, he feels at peace, and he wonders why he would ever want to return to the ordered chaos of the Dome. After those thoughts pass through his head, the dream ends with unnatural shrieks and occasionally a flash of movement as some creature races in front of him. The misshapen creatures were always terrifying enough to wake him up to a cold sweat.

“Mister Lennox,” Gideon hears his professor’s voice, snapping him back to attention.

“Yes, sir?” Gideon asks, looking up.

“I asked you what caused the Inundation?”

Gideon pauses for a moment as he recalls the previous day’s lesson, rehearsing the key points in his head, The Inundation was, in a nutshell, the overrunning of civilization as humanity once knew it. Because of it, millions died, and those who survived could only do so under domes like ours, protected from the dangers of the outside world. We never were taught what these dangers are, maybe radiation from the nuclear bombs that decimated much of the world, no one knows for sure, it seems.

“Gid?” Maveric Marcel, Gideon’s best friend, prods, interruption his thought process.

“Well, back in 2170 animal testing had finally come back to bite mankind in the butt. The animals mutated and spread across the planet in a matter of months. No one could hold them off, those who managed to survive the blight built our domes.”

“Very good,” Professor Grayson applauds Gideon’s textbook answer. Closing his book, Grayson continues addressing the class, “Now, give me an exit note on why you think the ‘blight,’ as mister Lennox calls it, spread so quickly.”

Gideon looks down to his paper, a thousand reasons running through his head before his brain stops entirely. In front of him is a picture of what he had been seeing in his dreams for years. He had drawn it as his brain wandered in class. Up until that moment, he hadn’t put all of the brief images together to create one beast. Now that he saw it all together everything began to click, This must be one of the mutants that helped destroy everything! Gideon thinks excitedly. Its mangy fur, rat-like face and tail, and ape-ish arms send shivers down his spine. Behind the grotesque creature stand the remains of a large structure and nearly a hundred years’ worth of plant life.

Gideon shuffles through his backpack, looking for another sheet of paper since over half of this one was now devoted to a creature that appears to want his soul. Finding no extra paper, Gideon gives up and begins writing around the edges of his picture. Surely Professor Grayson wouldn’t mind, I’ve turned in a million assignments with doodles and drawings decorating every corner. In fact, he has told me on several occasions he likes them, Gideon thinks. As he writes, Gideon makes sure to include how the transport systems across the planet made for easy transmission of the mutated animals planetwide. Satisfied with that summation, he continued on to how birds also helped spread the virus that then led to the mutations of the animals everywhere.

Gideon finishes his short essay as the bell rings, making his way to the door, he hands over his paper. Just five more days until I was done with school and could begin my life, Gideon thinks as he steps out of the classroom into the hallway which is alive with the usual end of the year buzz.

•••••••••••••••

Gideon finds himself sitting in a cold metal chair in a damp room, a bag over his head and handcuffs tight against his wrists. He can feel the moisture in the air, and the heat of his breath quickly dissipate in the cold room. Gideon has been in here for a few hours after some men told him they were police and wanted to ask him some questions.

They had led Gideon to a large truck, put this smelly old bag over his head, and took him to wherever this place was. Gideon knew he was in a basement because they led down several flights of stairs—a feat for not being able to see where one is stepping. They led him through several corridors, and finally into this room. What do they want? Gideon thinks, still unable to slow his heart rate after all these hours, Maybe they want information on the disappearance of several of my friends last year, I don’t know much about that though… Suddenly the door to the room squeals open and Gideon listens to the intruder’s heavy footsteps and equally as heavy breathing followed by another set of much quieter set of feet.

“Do you know why you’re here mister Gideon Reagan Lennox?” The man with the heavy breathing inquires in a menacing voice, much like the police in cop shows who finally caught the villain they had been hunting their whole career.

“N-no, sir,” Gideon stammers, nervous.

“Agent Craig, the hood,” The heavy breathing man says. as he spoke, Gideon feels the bag getting pull away and he finally gets to see the whole room. The room is dark, and puddles of what he hopes is water dominate much of the floor space. The only light in the room is a lonely flickering fluorescent tube, its accompanying tube likely went out ages ago. Before Gideon sits a fat man whose face seems to be stuck in a look of contempt with a dash of sadness. Gideon begins turning to the other agent to see who he was when he fat man speaks again, “Don’t look at him, look at me. You’re the one in trouble, not him.”

“I’m in trouble? I’m sorry, what did I do?” Gideon asks, his mind racing for any even minor laws he might have broken.

“Is this yours?” The fat man shows Gideon the paper he had turned into Professor Grayson and sets it on the table between us.

“Yes…” Gideon looks at it, then at the fat man, wondering how a drawing could get him arrested, “How did you get that? And what does that have to do with all this?” Gideon motions to the handcuffs and points with his chin around the room.

“We monitor schools for students who make stuff like this, and everything else that threatens the state.”

“Threatens the state? How does a doodle do that?”

“You and I both know this is more than just a doodle,”

“What are you talking—”

“How do you know what a mutant looks like?”

“I don’t, it’s just a—”

“How do you know?” The fat man’s face grows a deep red, he looks ready to strangle someone, a look Gideon had only seen one other time, a few years back.

Gideon had only been fourteen the first time he got that look. He got it from a girl’s dad after bringing her home hours after curfew. Looking back, Gideon had some sympathy for the dad, but in the moment, he couldn’t understand why he didn’t buy our story. The school dance had finished on time, and everything had gone well. The girl–he distinctly remembers her name being Sarah—and Gideon had gotten some food right after the dance, and then headed right for her house. He had intended to avoid any negative conversations with her dad about anything. As far as Gideon was concerned, if the dad had nothing against him, then that was as close as he’d get to being liked by him. But that goal didn’t pan out.

The two were late because the district she lived in was behind barricades. Soldiers marched every which way, and they heard crashes in the distance. Of course, they were still young, so they hopped over the barricades and investigated. Remaining unseen, they scampered behind all the cover they could find. They could have made it to Sarah’s home, but they were both more interested in checking out what all the commotion was for. The two had watched as soldiers raided the district’s nuthouse, which was butted up against the wall of the Dome.

They had watched as the soldiers marched people out, some in patients’ garb, some in doctors’ uniforms, and then others in tattered rags unfit for a beggar. They were all lined up, and Gideon and Sarah watched as each person was talked to by a woman in black. Each person was handed a piece of paper. As each finished reading the note, their heads had dropped, and their expressions grew dark. Soldiers lined up opposite of them, their guns leaning against their shoulders.

Gideon and Sarah had been so intent on watching what was happening, that they hadn’t noticed a man come up behind them. Sarah screamed when he tapped her shoulder, but he had tried to calm them. He had been wearing one of the orange patient uniforms, he had a veteran insignia on this shoulder, and across his chest, Corridor 13 was printed in black. Gideon remembered how he had quickly told us ‘There’s more out there than what they tell you…’ the patient had started, Gideon remembers the patient had been fairly lucid, but he slipped as he continued, ‘Always more… cities. Kingdoms. Dragons. Beware the king. Watch for his troops. They came in the night… Goodbye Captain Gregory… good night…’ Gideon remembered those words vividly, and they still echoed through his mind most every day.

Of course, all the soldiers had heard Sarah scream, and they came running. He and Sarah were a few steps ahead, and managed to get away, voices calling for them from behind. After that, they returned to the other side of the barricades, and waited until the district was open again. Gideon had looked for Sarah the next day at school, but she wasn’t there. He had visited her house after school but found charred ruins where it once stood.

“You wouldn’t believe me,” Gideon starts, preparing to tell a truth he was sure would get me locked up.

“I’ve heard everything from desperate kids,” The fat man lights a cigarette as he leans back in a folding chair. Surprisingly it held his generous weight, but with every move he made, it squeals in protest. He takes a deep breath through his cigarette and releases the blueish cloud directly into Gideon’s face.

Gideon holds his breath, and feels his eyes water, as he struggles not to cough. He watches as the smoke gathers around the flickering light above him. Gideon takes a cautious breath once the smoke is out of his face, and starts, “That thing there comes from my dreams… I’ve had dreams of them for years now, this is the first time I’ve drawn one though. I—”

“You know what I think?” The fat man interrupts, he continues, clearly not wanting an answer, “I think you’ve been sneaking out of the Dome, seeing things you shouldn’t.”

“What? No, I’ve never—” Gideon starts to protest, he didn’t even know there was a way out of the city. Other than the military-run checkpoints, everything was supposed to be just about impenetrable.

“It’s really too bad too,” The fat man continues, once again raising his voice over Gideon’s, “Your teacher had good things to say about you, and your records show you could have been a shining citizen.”

“But I’ve done nothing wrong,”

“Sure, you have. You’ve seen more than you should have, that’s a crime kid.”

“Dreaming is a crime?”

“Sure, it is. Well, kid, your ‘dreams’ have made me miss my dinner date, and I would like to just get home now. So, just tell me, where have you been sneaking out, and who with?”

“No one! Honestly, they are just dreams.” Gideon whimpers, nearly begging. He bites his tongue as he tries to not ask how an angry fat man could get a date with anyone in the city.

“Kid, I really don’t have time for this,” The fat man mutters as he struggles out of his seat. He pulls out his gun, and spins its chamber threateningly as he continues, “It would be a shame if you didn’t tell us and you happened to not be able to go home today. Not say your goodbyes to your family. A shame, indeed.”

“What are you talking about?” Gideon demands, knowing he is being blackmailed, “I have never gone outside of the dome, much less with anyone else!”

“Enough,” A woman’s voice reverberates from a speaker, Gideon looks to the two-way mirror on his right, assuming the woman is behind it as she continues, “The Governor has requested mister Lennox be enrolled in the Stalwart Program. No further questioning the boy, agent.”

The fat man’s jaw muscles flex, and Gideon can see he is angered by the request. Nonetheless, he stands as silently as his generous figure allows, and wordlessly exits the room. Close behind, the one he called Agent Craig retreats as well. As the two exit, the light in the room is shut off. Gideon finds himself absolutely alone. He tries to stay awake, but after several hours of the darkest darkness he had ever been in, he can’t help but nod off.

Take Me to Chapter Two

Accolade – Home Page

Accolade is the book that sees an additional chapter added with every newsletter that is sent out to my Newsletter. Updates to the story on my site lag behind as I like to give my subscribers a head start over everyone else. If you’d like the join my newsletter, you can sign up through this link.

Overview

Accolade takes place in the year 2249 on a planet you may recognize from another book or two–Galatia.

41 years before my first series: The Limit of Infinity, there was a lot of groundwork that had to be laid down to stoke a rebellion.

The Coalition government of Galatia has been spinning tales for years in order to keep its people docile.

Many thousands of people are living under fortified Domes, cut off from the wilds beyond. Wilds that are teaming with hybrid monsters that are the culmination of years of cruel experimentation.

The outside world has to be tamed and to do so, the Coalition has decided children are their best bet. The “best of the best” have been set aside to take part in something they call the “Stalwart Program.” A program that trains and arms teens and young adults to go to war against the savage animals beyond the walls of the Domes they grew up under.

Accolade follows the journey of three young men who help to get the Resistance movement going.

Table of Contents

Chapter One
Chapter Three
Chapter Five
Chapter Seven
Chapter Nine
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Two
Chapter Four
Chapter Six
Chapter Eight
Chapter Ten
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Sixteen

Note: For ease of navigation and reading, I’ve combined Chapter Parts (i.e. Part One and Part Two) to one single chapter.

Also Note: Changes are ongoing here, this is a big project! Bear with me!