Richard Paolinelli's Blog, page 35
August 12, 2020
My 2020 Dragon Award Nominations
Here’s who I nominated for the 2020 Dragon Awards:
Best Science Fiction Novel – Overlook by Jon Mollison
Best Fantasy Novel – Brand of the Warlock by Rob Kroese
Best Young Adult/Middle Grade Novel – The Unbearable Heaviness of Remembering by L. Jagi Lamplighter
Best Military Science Fiction or Fantasy Novel – Alabaster Noon by Chris Kennedy & Mark Wandrey
Best Alternate History Novel – Shadows of Annihilation by S.M. Stirling
Best Media Tie-In Novel – Star Wars: Thrawn: Treason by Timothy Zahn
Best Horror Novel – Deus Vult by Declan FInn
Best Comic Book Everglades Angels Blake Northcutt
Best Graphic Novel Everglades Angels Blake Northcutt
Best Science Fiction or Fantasy TV Series, TV or Internet The Mandalorian Disney +
Best Science Fiction or Fantasy Movie Avengers: Endgame The Russo Brothers
DID NOT NOMINATE
Best Science Fiction or Fantasy PC / Console Game
Best Science Fiction or Fantasy Mobile Game
Best Science Fiction or Fantasy Board Game
Best Science Fiction or Fantasy Miniatures / Collectible Card / Role-Playing Game
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The 2020 Dragon Awards
There has been a ton of traffic to my site since the 2020 Dragon Awards ballot was released yesterday. I got my ballot in the mail right after I heard the finalists had been posted and had checked the Awards’ website. Seems lots of folks out there are eager to read what this alum of the 2nd Class of Dragon Awards Finalists thinks about the fifth class of Dragon Award Finalists.
Hey, even West Point has its occasional class of stinkers.
Yeah, the 2020 list offers slim pickings in quality. For the record, I only voted in three of the 15 categories this year. As usual, I didn’t vote in the last four which dealt with video, mobile & board games/collectibles. I just don’t dabble in those areas enough to feel comfortable voting for them.
Which leaves me the remaining 11, usually. But I found nothing award-worthy in any of works among the six finalists in the categories of Best Sci-Fi novel, Best Fantasy novel or Best YA/Middle Grade novel.
I voted for Savage Wars by Jason Anspach & Nick Cole in the Best Mil SF/F Novel, found nothing of note in the Alternate History category and laughed myself sick at the list that comprised Best Media Tie-In. Hello? Timothy Zahn anyone? How is his latest Thrawn book not a finalist? And the Best Horror category was pretty horror-ible. The comic book and graphic novel slate wasn’t much better.
I did vote for The Mandalorian for Best TV series and then I checked out Best Movie.
Seriously? Joker? A finalist for Best Science Fiction/Fantasy film? W-T-A-F????
Truth be told, none of the other films belonged in there either but at least Ad Astra qualified as a science fiction film, and it was watchable. So I voted for Ad Astra more as a protest against the others than anything else.
Yeah, the ballot is mostly a dumpster fire aside from a small handful of exceptions. I suppose a bad year was bound to happen after four solid years. Hopefully its a one-off.
I suspect it will be. Consider, its 2020 and this year has been screwed up almost from the start. DragonCon was scrapped, which makes me wonder how many people even were aware that the Awards would still go on?
The Hong Kong Flooey has gutted a lot of things this year and people aren’t focused on things they normally would be. I’ve heard from several others that they hadn’t bothered to nominate. Many who do and usually promote the Dragons haven’t this year.
I’m partially guilty of this myself. I nominated, and intended to do a blog post here listing who I nominated, but never got around to it. When I first saw the ballot, I considered not even voting at all, but there were two works worthy of my vote, so I went ahead and sent in my three-vote ballot.
Another point to consider: There has been a group that has had a hard-on for the Dragons since the first year they came out. They’ve hated them and over the past two-three years have tried to game the voting system. I’m not sure what that is supposed to prove other than what Larry Correia said about the Hugos was 100% accurate but hey, it’s a free country.
I suspect we are seeing a perfect storm: Regular participants not participating because COVID is a more important issue to deal with allowing this group to finally have enough numbers – and e-mail addresses – to carry the majority in nominations.
It will be interesting to compare the total ballots received numbers for 2020 to past years. I won’t be surprised to see lower numbers, and a depressed turnout would favor an organized group, or even a publisher, with the means to buy enough nominations to game the vote their way. Is that what happened this year? I don’t have access to the data so I can’t say for sure. But it is a theory that can’t be discounted at this time. Nor would I be surprised if the theory turned out to be fact. Nor would I be surprised to learn it isn’t the first time a publisher bought its way to nominations and awards in the book industry.
So here’s hoping this was a hiccup and not a long-term trend, that next year we’ll put the Wuhan Flu behind us and get back to our regular routine.
In the meantime, be sure to check out the Helicon Award winners from 2019 and 2020. The Awards Committee is already meeting to discuss who will be named as the four legacy awards in 2021 – the Melvil Dewey Innovation Award, the Laura Ingalls Wilder Best New Author Award, the John W. Campbell Diversity in SF/F Award and the Frank Herbert Lifetime Achievement Award.
They will gather again in February of 2021 to vote on the “Best” awards categories for works released in the 2020 calendar year.
I can guarantee there will be no stinkers to be found in that group.
Speaking of the 2017 Class of Dragon Award Finalists, check out Escaping Infinity, a 2017 Dragon Awards Finalist for Best Science Fiction right here: ESCAPING INFINITY / available in Kindle, Print and Audiobook formats.
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August 10, 2020
Awards For Works Should Be Judged By The Work Itself
It doesn’t seem like that difficult of a concept, does it?
When awards like the Dragon Award, the Helicon Award, the Nebula, the Hugo, the Oscar, et al, gather to select the best of the best in their fields this should be the standard. The work that was nominated shall be judged, not the personal life or beliefs of the person who created said work. Not their philosophy, their politics, their sex, their gender, their age, their religion, their race, etc.
The work and only the work is all that should be considered.
Fortunately, the Dragon Awards and the Helicon Awards still embrace this concept. Sadly, the folks in charge of, and voting for, the Hugos and the Nebulas don’t. Which is why both the Hugo and the Nebula has become, for a majority of SF/F readers, a red flag. Even being nominated for one of those two is a warning to not waste your time and money on these works, especially in the literary categories.
This problem began to manifest itself back in the early 2010’s and has progressively worsened every year since. But over, the last three or four years, the cancer has metastasized to the point where I doubt either the Hugos or the Nebulas can ever be redeemed. Let me point this out, to ward off the inevitable charge: I will never accept a Hugo or a Nebula if I won and I’d ensure I wouldn’t win one by demanding my name and work be removed if nominated. I don’t want my works stained by being connected to awards based on hate.
To be honest, I’d washed my hands of both two years ago and never even bothered to look to see who’d been nominated, much less won. But recent events have managed to drag me back into the conversation slightly.
First, we have Jeannette Ng, taking a page out of N.K. Jemesin’s playbook, at Worldcon 2019 in Dublin, Ireland. Are you a talentless hack of a writer with no hope of getting published? Just go find an old white dude in SF/F to attack and the accolades will roll in!
Jemesin used Vox Day to propel herself to four Hugos that her writing was not worthy of – well, if you use the standards of giving awards to great writing that the Hugos used to have prior to 2010 that is. And Ng, despite getting the 2019 John W. Campbell Award for best new writer, decided she needed to do the same. Having read her writing, she was probably right to do so as her work is just as bad as Jemesin’s is.
So, Ng trots onto the stage in Dublin and “Wokely” trashes the hell out of a dead writer who cannot offer any defense against the charges posthumously brought against him. How brave, Jenny!
And what was her reward? Here’s the list of the 2020 Hugo’s finalist for Best Related Work:
Joanna Russ, Gwyneth Jones (University of Illinois Press)
The Pleasant Profession of Robert A Heinlein, Farah Mendlesohn (Unbound)
“2019 John W. Campbell Award Acceptance Speech”, Jeannette Ng (WorldCon 2019 Dublin, Ireland)
The Lady from the Black Lagoon: Hollywood Monsters and the Lost Legacy of Milicent Patrick, Mallory O’Meara (Hanover Square)
Becoming Superman: My Journey From Poverty to Hollywood, J. Michael Straczynski (Harper Voyager US)
Worlds of Ursula K. Le Guin (Documentary Film by Arwen Curry)
Well, well. Looks like her hate-filled rant paid off. Oh, and that’s not all. Care to guess who won the 2020 Hugo for Best Related Work? Yep, Miss Hatey-Hate Ng walked away with the Hugo. For an acceptance speech that was anything but and over five other much-more worthy works. I myself would have gone with the Worlds of Ursula K. Le Guin but any of the other four would have been fine too.
But no, the intelligence-limited folk that still bother to vote for the Hugo, went with hate instead. Still, I let this episode slide because I honestly don’t care about either the Hugos or the Nebulas. The Dragons and the Helicons are where you will truly discover the best of SF/F today.
Even when the rabid hatehounds went after George R.R. Martin, I couldn’t be bothered to care enough other than to shoot George a quick note. Even then I just pointed out the delicious irony of GRRM being fed to the same hatehounds he helped create back at WorldCon 2015.
It seems at WorldCon 2020, GRRM mispronounced a few last names (total aside to those who got mad because he didn’t get your name right: Grow up. I quit worrying about the butchery of my last name back in high school!) and had the gall to defend John W. Campbell after last year’s assault. The hatehounds have been after him ever since and, as far as I am concerned, they are welcome to each other.
But, there was a discussion today on Twitter that caught my attention regarding the other WorldCon 2020 controversy: The Retro Hugos.
Originally conceived in 1993 to be a one-off for WorldCon 1996 to commemorate the 50th Anniversary of the 1946 WorldCon held in the same city both years, the idea was to have a Hugo Awards for the 1946 works. Since 1996, they’ve held seven more Retro Hugos, including one this year, when they voted on the winners for 1945. Here’s who the winners were:
BEST NOVEL
“Shadow Over Mars” (The Nemesis from Terra), by Leigh Brackett (Startling Stories, Fall 1944)
BEST NOVELLA
“Killdozer!”, by Theodore Sturgeon (Astounding Science Fiction, November 1944)
BEST NOVELETTE
“City”, by Clifford D. Simak (Astounding Science Fiction, May 1944)
BEST SHORT STORY
“I, Rocket”, by Ray Bradbury (Amazing Stories, May 1944)
BEST SERIES
The Cthulhu Mythos, by H. P. Lovecraft, August Derleth, and others
BEST RELATED WORK
“The Science-Fiction Field”, by Leigh Brackett (Writer’s Digest, July 1944)
BEST GRAPHIC STORY OR COMIC
Superman: “The Mysterious Mr. Mxyztplk”, by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster (Detective Comics, Inc.)
BEST DRAMATIC PRESENTATION, SHORT FORM
(tie)
The Canterville Ghost, screenplay by Edwin Harvey Blum from a story by Oscar Wilde, directed by Jules Dassin (Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM))
The Curse of the Cat People, written by DeWitt Bodeen, directed by Gunther V. Fritsch and Robert Wise (RKO Radio Pictures)
BEST EDITOR, SHORT FORM
John W. Campbell, Jr.
BEST PROFESSIONAL ARTIST
Margaret Brundage
BEST FANZINE
Voice of the Imagi-Nation, edited by Forrest J. Ackerman and Myrtle R. Douglas
BEST FAN WRITER
Fritz Leiber
To my eye this looks like a pretty solid representation of SF/F in 1945. But the hatehounds spotted two names on that list: H.P. Lovecraft and John W. Campbell.
“UNWOKE!” they yowled much the same way the crowds yelled “UNCLEAN!” when they burned witches at the stake in Salem, Massachusetts.
And now they want to change the rules for future Retro Hugos it seems. No longer can the best work be nominated, they yowl, but if the creator behind said work does not pass the “Officially Acceptable Wokeness Test” they must be chiseled out of the SF/F historical record forever lest future generations ever hear of their vile “un-woke” creations!
Even John Scalzi jumped into the fray to declare that we really shouldn’t waste our time on the “old SF/F” stuff and only read the “modern (read: acceptably woke) stuff”.
HISTORICAL NOTE: I had the extreme displeasure of having to read his crap when it shot across the McClatchy Newspaper wire back in the mid-1990s when he was at the Fresno Bee and I worked the copy desk for two days a week at the Modesto Bee (thankfully the other three days I escaped that torture by working in the Sports department.)
When I heard Scalzi had jumped to fiction writing I pitied his poor editor. His stuff at the Bee was always the last we worked on and always need massive reworking to be suitable to run. Old Man’sWar, saved no doubt by said editor, was okay. Everything since? Well, the only reason why he isn’t the worst SF/F writer of all-time is thanks to the presence of Jemesin in the field.
But I digress. I also reject the argument that reading the classics is a waste of time as much as I reject judging those works by today’s standards. The world was different then. What is unacceptable now was accepted then. So to judge the creators that way is wrong. And judging a work by who wrote it is even more so. Judge the work by the work itself and by no other standard. That is the only fair way to do it.
In the aforementioned Twitter conversation, I brought up that I do this and the other person was stunned. It was a foreign concept to him (or her, there was no name attached to the profile). This person doubted anyone could separate the work from its creator like that.
Well, here I stand. And I don’t think I am the only one either. When I pick up a book I don’t care who wrote it, what their gender, sex, age, race, creed, politics, religion or anything else about them is. I want to know one thing: Is this a good story. When I am finished that is the only judgment I make concerning it.
Was it a good story or was it a bad story?
That is the only judgment that matters. That is the only judgment that should be used when deciding if a work is worthy of an award or not.
Everything else is unimportant. Which is why the Hugos and the Nebulas have become unimportant, save for being a large red flag, warning the potential buyer to steer well clear.
(* – About the featured image above? That’s a flaccid Hugo Award melting in the presence of The Dragon Award. This representation debuted in 2016 when the Dragon Awards were first announced. It was done in response to the minions of the Lord of the House of 770 Vile Aromas freaking out that someone had taken them up on the offer to make their own award if they didn’t like the Hugos. Seeing as how participation in voting for the Dragons has been running between 4 or 5-to-1 over that of the Hugos and the Nebulas, you can certainly understand their anguish.)
August 9, 2020
Ooops! Or, Things That Happen When Remodeling
No, we aren’t running re-runs of my Star Trek Fan Fiction series. During some remodeling work here on the website yours truly accidentally deleted the first two chapters of Part 2 of The Calling.
Since they were permanently trashed, I had to rebuild the posts and repost them.
Seriously, you just can’t find any good help these days, lol
Aside from the occasional oops, the remodel proceeds well and I hope to unveil the new website and its features later this week.
The Calling: Part 2, Chapter 2
A Work Of Star Trek Fan Fiction By Richard Paolinelli
© 2020 RICHARD PAOLINELLI . ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO COPYING OR ANY OTHER REPRODUCTION OF THIS STORY IS PERMITTED WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION. This is a work of fan fiction based in the universe of Star Trek, created by Gene Roddenberry. It is not intended to be sold, to be used to aid in any sale and is not to be copied or used in any other way by any other party.
CHAPTER TWO
“Recreation Deck.”
Kirk stepped out of the turboshaft hoping to get in a quiet hour of work on the mat. McCoy had been after him about his weight again and the last thing he wanted to deal with was another dietary shift to salads. It was late in the evening and the deck was usually empty at this time.
But not this time.
Nearly half the crew must be down here, he mused as he took a quick head count, I didn’t see any notice posted for a special event.
Making his way through the crowd he spotted McCoy near the front and adjusted his course accordingly. The object of everyone’s attention in the room was his Security Chief. Dressed only in black workout briefs, Forelni was keeping both a heavy medicine ball that Kirk knew weighed nearly sixty pounds and a tall purple feather in the air without either ever touching the ground. While engaged in that, he also simultaneously executed a series of fighting moves that seemed to be a blend of several disciplines; Human, Vulcan, Klingon and many others.
It was an impressive display of power, control and elegance that explained why his new Chief looked like he’d been chiseled from granite. It also explained why the majority of the gathered crowd was comprised of the Enterprise’s female crew. Knowing how much older Forelni was gave the Captain a twinge of guilt for not keeping himself in a little better shape.
“I wish I could look a tenth that good when I’m approaching my one hundreds,” McCoy remarked. “And it looks like he’s had cause to stay in shape over the decades.”
Kirk noticed the scars that had caught McCoy’s attention and wondered. Those scars, no matter how old, could easily be removed. Yet, he kept them anyway. They told a story of the battles he’d fought. Was that why he did not remove them? Was it pride in having earned them in the first place? He made a mental note to inquire about them later and watched the rest of the workout in silence.
After a few more minutes Forelni lobbed the ball high, waved his other hand gently under the feather to lift it a few inches higher and then executed a series of spinning kicks that culminated in a fighting crouch. His left arm fully extended, his hand in a fist save the index finger which was fully extended. His right arm extended straight out and up, hand clawed with the tips of the fingers forming a cup. A second later the ball landed in the cupped right hand and the tip of the feather settled on the extended finger of the left hand. Both actions occurred simultaneously and neither object or his hands seemed to bounce or react to the impact in any way.
Forelni held the pose, keeping both ball and feather in place without either moving a millimeter, for a full ten seconds before allowing a slight grin to form on his face. Deftly rolling his hand around the ball to gently settle it down on the mat while clasping the feather between two finger, he stood up and bowed slightly as the crowd applauded. With a flourish he bowed once more as he presented the feather to Uhura.
“My compliments, Lieutenant.”
“Thank you, Commander,” she took the offered plume as he gathered up a towel and wrapped it around his neck.
“That was quite impressive, Commander,” Kirk said as he and McCoy walked up. “You do this every night?”
“Back when I first learned it I practiced every day, Sir,” Forelni replied. “But after a few decades I only do this a couple of times a month, just to stay in practice. Or if I’m feeling a little out of balance with the universe I might throw in an extra session. That is the real purpose behind the exercise, keeping both body and mind in balance.”
“That sounds almost Vulcan to me,” McCoy observed.
“I suppose it is,” Forelni agreed. “Then again I think every species has a lot more in common with each other than they are comfortable admitting to. I’d be happy to teach some of it to you both. I promise it’ll much easier than what I was doing here tonight.”
“No thanks,” McCoy waved his hands. “I’d be in traction for a month.”
“I could use a sparring partner, Commander, maybe you could slip in one or two things as we go along?”
“It would be my pleasure Captain…”
An alarm went off startling everyone in the room except Forelni.
“…but I have a prior engagement, perhaps another evening?” Forelni concluded before addressing the room. “There is no need to be alarmed. This is a security drill and the alarm is only sounding in here to let me know it is underway. My apologies. Please carry on.”
“Seems an odd time to spring a drill.” McCoy remarked.
“Can you think of a better time than when the Chief is supposedly otherwise occupied?” Forelni slipped on a black tunic. “They’ve got just about another ten seconds…”
The alarm suddenly shut off.
“Security to Chief Forelni,” blared from a nearby wall speaker. Forelni padded over to hit the switch.
“Forelni here. Go Michaelson.”
“Intruder discovered on Deck Fourteen, sir. In custody.”
“And four seconds earlier than I thought, well done. How is Mr. Riley?”
“Disappointed, sir,” the laughter in Michaelson’s voice carried through.
“I’m sure he is,” Forelni chuckled in reply. “Tell him I’ll expect my bottle of Irish Whiskey to be delivered to my cabin shortly after our next port of call.”
“That’s why it took us a little longer, Chief. He tried to fool us into thinking he wasn’t the intruder until after the deadline you set so he could collect a bottle of Etalyian wine from you.”
“Did he now? Put him on.”
“Riley here, Sir.”
“Mr. Riley, did you lie to my security team and try to fool them into thinking you weren’t the intruder they were looking for instead of giving up as soon as you were contacted?”
“Aye, Sir.”
“Well done, young man,” Forelni replied, shocking everyone within earshot of both ends of the conversation. “Cancel that bottle of whiskey and report to my quarters in one hour to collect your bottle of wine. Michaelson, I’ll expect a full action report on this drill in ninety minutes. Forelni out.”
Forelni turned from the wall to face the incongruous looks on Kirk’s and McCoy’s faces.
“I better keep an eye on that boy,” he said. “At this rate he’ll either become an Admiral or a master criminal. Good evening, Captain, Doctor.”
Kirk chuckled as Forelni departed.
“That wasn’t the reaction I was expecting from you, Jim.”
“Bones, in the two weeks since he’s been here, he has whipped Security into shape like none of his predecessors have before. And yes, I like his style too.”
“Enough to bet on it?”
“And what are we wagering on, Bones?”
“The Galactic Grandmaster Chess Tournament.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“Jim, you really need to pay more attention,” McCoy replied. “It’s the talk of the ship. Both Spock and Forelni are in the tournament and both have reached the quarterfinals. As they are in opposite brackets, the only way they can meet would be in the finals. They’re saying it would be held on the ship if they both make it.”
“I knew Spock was in, I didn’t realize Forelni was too,” Kirk admitted.
“Well, the betting pool is getting hot and heavy on both of them or either of them making it that far. There’s no telling how crazy it will get if they both make it in.”
“My money’s on Spock,” Kirk said with only the slightest tint of doubt.
“I’ll take that bet, Captain,” McCoy pounced. “A bottle of Saurian Brandy says they meet in the finals and our Prince Forelni walks away with the crown.”
“Very well, Bones, I’ll take your brandy off your hands.”
McCoy snorted as he walked away just as the wall speaker whistled for attention.
“Bridge to Captain Kirk,” Spock’s voice carried across the room.
“Speak of the Devil,” McCoy called out just before disappearing through the deck’s doors.
“Kirk here, what is it Spock?”
“We have received a priority message from Starfleet Command. A Federation Ambassador and his party have been taken hostage on Kallita Five near the Romulan neutral zone. We have been ordered to Starbase 11 to pick up Ambassador Kleine and take him to Kallita to begin negotiation for the release of the hostages.”
So much for my workout, Kirk thought.
“Very well, Spock, set course for Starbase 11 and takes up to Warp 6. Assemble the command staff in the briefing room in one hour. Kirk out.”
Riley will have to wait for his bottle of wine, Kirk mused as he headed out of Recreation. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was about to see exactly what his new Security Chief could do in a real-life scenario. As he entered the turboshaft and the doors snapped shut behind him he suddenly felt sorry for the hostage-takers.
The Calling: Part 2, Chapter 1
A Work Of Star Trek Fan Fiction By Richard Paolinelli
© 2020 RICHARD PAOLINELLI . ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO COPYING OR ANY OTHER REPRODUCTION OF THIS STORY IS PERMITTED WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION. This is a work of fan fiction based in the universe of Star Trek, created by Gene Roddenberry. It is not intended to be sold, to be used to aid in any sale and is not to be copied or used in any other way by any other party.
CHAPTER ONE
“Damnit, Jim,” McCoy groused as he fiddled with the collar of his dress uniform. “I’m a doctor not a contortionist!”
“Look at it this way, Bones,” Kirk replied to the familiar complaint. “You won’t have to be in it for too long this time.”
McCoy tugged at his tunic as he, Kirk and Spock made their way toward the transporter room. Try as he might, his uniform looked rumpled. Neither Kirk nor Spock suffered as much as a thread out of place on their uniforms.
“It is unusual to welcome a new officer aboard ship in full dress, Captain,” Spock noted.
“I’ve never heard of it either,” Kirk admitted as the doors to the transporter room swooshed open. “But Admiral Cartwright insisted on it. I admit, if such an exception is to be made, this would be the officer to do it for.”
“Bari Forelni. There’s a name that has become synonymous the Federation and Starfleet.”
“Indeed, Doctor. His contributions to the founding of both organizations are most impressive.”
“His record as a Captain is even more so,” Kirk added. “When Starfleet announced they were building a new ship with an all-Etalyian crew he resigned as Etalya’s Ambassador to the Federation and enrolled in the Academy. He’s one of six candidates to be that ship’s first Captain.
“All six have graduated from the Academy and have experience as commanders in the field and all will be serving on starships as part of their final testing before Starfleet picks the new Captain. Admiral Cartwright said Commander Forelni requested to serve his tour on the Enterprise.”
“An honor.”
“Yes it is, Spock, and a little intimidating,” Kirk admitted.
A beep from the transporter console interrupted their conversation.
“Ready for transport, Cap’n,” Scotty, also in full dress complete with a proper Scottish kilt, reported.
“Bring him aboard, Scotty.”
Scotty’s deft hands moved the levers and a human form coalesced on the pad. When the process ended a tall, olive-skinned man who appeared roughly the same age as Kirk stood on the pad. He wore a regular duty uniform and his tunic was red, not command gold. His dark eyes quickly swept the room and lingered on the dress uniforms for a moment. A slight smile tugged at the corners of those eyes.
“Commander Bari Forelni reporting for duty, sir. Permission to come aboard?”
“Permission granted,” Kirk stepped forward and extended his hand. “And welcome aboard Commander.”
Forelni stepped down with more grace than someone who’d lived over a century and a half had a right to possess and clasped his new Captain’s hand.
“A pleasure to be aboard, sir. I was quite pleased to hear that you had accepted my posting here.”
“Admiral Cartwright didn’t seem to be giving me an option to refuse, Commander,” Kirk replied.
“Yes, so I noticed. My apologies gentlemen for having to wear those torture chambers on my account. I had asked the Admiral not to go to any extra-ordinary lengths on my behalf. I hope to be just another member of the crew while I am here.”
“That might be somewhat hard to accomplish, Commander, given your record.”
“Hmmm, I knew I should have tarnished my record more in my misspent youth,” Forelni quipped. “Now I have suffer the terrible consequences of being a living legend. Alas.”
Kirk smiled, feeling much less intimidated now that he’d met the man behind the legend in person.
“Allow me to introduce our First Officer, Mister Spock.”
“Live long and prosper, Commander,” Forelni intoned in Vulcan, smoothly fashioning the Vulcan salute and drawing a slightly uplifted eyebrow in response.
“Prosperity and long life,” Spock answered in kind. “My compliments, Commander, your Vulcan is flawless.”
“Thank you,” Forelni replied, switching back to standard. “It has been some time since I’ve been able to use it. I believe I was speaking with your father at that time. How is Ambassador Sarek and the Lady Amanda?”
“Both well at last communication, thank you for asking.”
“I must say, Commander, you are somewhat taller since our last meeting.”
“I do not recall having met you before, Commander.”
“Well, to be fair, you were roughly two feet long and wrapped in a blanket in your mother’s arms at the time, I would be surprised if even a Vulcan could remember that far back with clarity.”
“Indeed,” Spock allowed.
“And out Chief Medical Officer, Leonard McCoy,” Kirk moved along in the introductions.
“Doctor, a pleasure,” Forelni replied. “I assume I’ll be visiting you soon for a medical exam?”
“The sooner the better, Commander.”
“Let me get unpacked and I’ll drop in tomorrow.”
“And this is our Chief Engineer, Montgomery Scott.”
“Mr. Scott. A most smooth transport. My compliments.”
“Thank ye, sir.”
“Yeoman Brand will show you to your quarters. We’re having a mixer at 1900 where you can meet the rest of the command crew and officers,” Kirk said. “Commander, before you go…”
“Sir?”
“I am puzzled as to why you requested to be posted on the Enterprise and as Chief of Security?”
“As for the first part, I appreciate the rapport between a ship’s Captain and his First Officer. I will only be posted here for six months. I had no desire to be a disruption to that rapport.
“As for the second,” Forelni continued. “In studying your reports to Starfleet Command, I got the impression that you were becoming sorely tempted to launch my predecessor out a photon torpedo tube. I have something of an aptitude for Security. I’d like to see what I can do to bring that department back up to a more acceptable standard while I’m here.”
“Commander,” Kirk said after a moment. “If you can pull that off, and Starfleet Command doesn’t give you command of that new ship, I’ll retire and you can have the Enterprise.”
“Well, let’s not let it get to that point, sir,” Forelni replied allowing the smile to reach his mouth this time. “Enterprise without James T. Kirk, wouldn’t be the Enterprise.”
CHAPTER TWO
“Recreation Deck.”
Kirk stepped out of the turboshaft hoping to get in a quiet hour of work on the mat. McCoy had been after him about his weight again and the last thing he wanted to deal with was another dietary shift to salads. It was late in the evening and the deck was usually empty at this time.
But not this time.
Nearly half the crew must be down here, he mused as he took a quick head count, I didn’t see any notice posted for a special event.
Making his way through the crowd he spotted McCoy near the front and adjusted his course accordingly. The object of everyone’s attention in the room was his Security Chief. Dressed only in black workout briefs, Forelni was keeping both a heavy medicine ball that Kirk knew weighed nearly sixty pounds and a tall purple feather in the air without either ever touching the ground. While engaged in that, he also simultaneously executed a series of fighting moves that seemed to be a blend of several disciplines; Human, Vulcan, Klingon and many others.
It was an impressive display of power, control and elegance that explained why his new Chief looked like he’d been chiseled from granite. It also explained why the majority of the gathered crowd was comprised of the Enterprise’s female crew. Knowing how much older Forelni was gave the Captain a twinge of guilt for not keeping himself in a little better shape.
“I wish I could look a tenth that good when I’m approaching my one hundreds,” McCoy remarked. “And it looks like he’s had cause to stay in shape over the decades.”
Kirk noticed the scars that had caught McCoy’s attention and wondered. Those scars, no matter how old, could easily be removed. Yet, he kept them anyway. They told a story of the battles he’d fought. Was that why he did not remove them? Was it pride in having earned them in the first place? He made a mental note to inquire about them later and watched the rest of the workout in silence.
After a few more minutes Forelni lobbed the ball high, waved his other hand gently under the feather to lift it a few inches higher and then executed a series of spinning kicks that culminated in a fighting crouch. His left arm fully extended, his hand in a fist save the index finger which was fully extended. His right arm extended straight out and up, hand clawed with the tips of the fingers forming a cup. A second later the ball landed in the cupped right hand and the tip of the feather settled on the extended finger of the left hand. Both actions occurred simultaneously and neither object or his hands seemed to bounce or react to the impact in any way.
Forelni held the pose, keeping both ball and feather in place without either moving a millimeter, for a full ten seconds before allowing a slight grin to form on his face. Deftly rolling his hand around the ball to gently settle it down on the mat while clasping the feather between two finger, he stood up and bowed slightly as the crowd applauded. With a flourish he bowed once more as he presented the feather to Uhura.
“My compliments, Lieutenant.”
“Thank you, Commander,” she took the offered plume as he gathered up a towel and wrapped it around his neck.
“That was quite impressive, Commander,” Kirk said as he and McCoy walked up. “You do this every night?”
“Back when I first learned it I practiced every day, Sir,” Forelni replied. “But after a few decades I only do this a couple of times a month, just to stay in practice. Or if I’m feeling a little out of balance with the universe I might throw in an extra session. That is the real purpose behind the exercise, keeping both body and mind in balance.”
“That sounds almost Vulcan to me,” McCoy observed.
“I suppose it is,” Forelni agreed. “Then again I think every species has a lot more in common with each other than they are comfortable admitting to. I’d be happy to teach some of it to you both. I promise it’ll much easier than what I was doing here tonight.”
“No thanks,” McCoy waved his hands. “I’d be in traction for a month.”
“I could use a sparring partner, Commander, maybe you could slip in one or two things as we go along?”
“It would be my pleasure Captain…”
An alarm went off startling everyone in the room except Forelni.
“…but I have a prior engagement, perhaps another evening?” Forelni concluded before addressing the room. “There is no need to be alarmed. This is a security drill and the alarm is only sounding in here to let me know it is underway. My apologies. Please carry on.”
“Seems an odd time to spring a drill.” McCoy remarked.
“Can you think of a better time than when the Chief is supposedly otherwise occupied?” Forelni slipped on a black tunic. “They’ve got just about another ten seconds…”
The alarm suddenly shut off.
“Security to Chief Forelni,” blared from a nearby wall speaker. Forelni padded over to hit the switch.
“Forelni here. Go Michaelson.”
“Intruder discovered on Deck Fourteen, sir. In custody.”
“And four seconds earlier than I thought, well done. How is Mr. Riley?”
“Disappointed, sir,” the laughter in Michaelson’s voice carried through.
“I’m sure he is,” Forelni chuckled in reply. “Tell him I’ll expect my bottle of Irish Whiskey to be delivered to my cabin shortly after our next port of call.”
“That’s why it took us a little longer, Chief. He tried to fool us into thinking he wasn’t the intruder until after the deadline you set so he could collect a bottle of Etalyian wine from you.”
“Did he now? Put him on.”
“Riley here, Sir.”
“Mr. Riley, did you lie to my security team and try to fool them into thinking you weren’t the intruder they were looking for instead of giving up as soon as you were contacted?”
“Aye, Sir.”
“Well done, young man,” Forelni replied, shocking everyone within earshot of both ends of the conversation. “Cancel that bottle of whiskey and report to my quarters in one hour to collect your bottle of wine. Michaelson, I’ll expect a full action report on this drill in ninety minutes. Forelni out.”
Forelni turned from the wall to face the incongruous looks on Kirk’s and McCoy’s faces.
“I better keep an eye on that boy,” he said. “At this rate he’ll either become an Admiral or a master criminal. Good evening, Captain, Doctor.”
Kirk chuckled as Forelni departed.
“That wasn’t the reaction I was expecting from you, Jim.”
“Bones, in the two weeks since he’s been here, he has whipped Security into shape like none of his predecessors have before. And yes, I like his style too.”
“Enough to bet on it?”
“And what are we wagering on, Bones?”
“The Galactic Grandmaster Chess Tournament.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“Jim, you really need to pay more attention,” McCoy replied. “It’s the talk of the ship. Both Spock and Forelni are in the tournament and both have reached the quarterfinals. As they are in opposite brackets, the only way they can meet would be in the finals. They’re saying it would be held on the ship if they both make it.”
“I knew Spock was in, I didn’t realize Forelni was too,” Kirk admitted.
“Well, the betting pool is getting hot and heavy on both of them or either of them making it that far. There’s no telling how crazy it will get if they both make it in.”
“My money’s on Spock,” Kirk said with only the slightest tint of doubt.
“I’ll take that bet, Captain,” McCoy pounced. “A bottle of Saurian Brandy says they meet in the finals and our Prince Forelni walks away with the crown.”
“Very well, Bones, I’ll take your brandy off your hands.”
McCoy snorted as he walked away just as the wall speaker whistled for attention.
“Bridge to Captain Kirk,” Spock’s voice carried across the room.
“Speak of the Devil,” McCoy called out just before disappearing through the deck’s doors.
“Kirk here, what is it Spock?”
“We have received a priority message from Starfleet Command. A Federation Ambassador and his party have been taken hostage on Kallita Five near the Romulan neutral zone. We have been ordered to Starbase 11 to pick up Ambassador Kleine and take him to Kallita to begin negotiation for the release of the hostages.”
So much for my workout, Kirk thought.
“Very well, Spock, set course for Starbase 11 and takes up to Warp 6. Assemble the command staff in the briefing room in one hour. Kirk out.”
Riley will have to wait for his bottle of wine, Kirk mused as he headed out of Recreation. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was about to see exactly what his new Security Chief could do in a real-life scenario. As he entered the turboshaft and the doors snapped shut behind him he suddenly felt sorry for the hostage-takers.
Superversive Sunday Spotlight: Karl K. Gallagher
Welcome to this week’s Superversive Sunday Spotlight. Every week we will chat with a Superversive author that you really should be reading.
This week we welcome Superversive author, Karl K. Gallagher:
How long have you been writing?
Little bits since I was in high school . . . so more than thirty years. I started blogging around 2002. Sold a dozen articles to some role-playing game sites a few years later. Then in 2013 I realized, “Hey, this Kindle stuff means I could write a novel and *not* [image error]have it vanish into the abyss of agents and publishing houses.” I wrote one, published it in 2015 (after letting one house take a glance at it), and wrote a couple more to turn it into a trilogy. I’ve kept going since then.
Which writers inspire you?
Robert Heinlein is my biggest influence. I grew up reading the SF collection I inherited from my father. He had most of Heinlein’s work. After RAH, Lois Bujold is my favorite. She has a gift for making a new technology drive the character-based decisions that form the best stories.
So, what have you written?
The Torchship Trilogy focuses on the crew of a tramp freighter as a major war [image error]breaks out, examining the dangers of artificial intelligence, societal impacts of a permanent underclass, and slide-rules’ immunity to hacking.
The Lost War and The War Revealed tackle the questions “What would happen to historical reenactors flung into a fantasy world?” and “What would make orcs more scary?”
I’ve just released Storm Between the Stars, a space opera where an isolated outpost rejoins the rest of humanity to find it’s been taken over by an empire that has erased history.
There’s also ten short stories published in various anthologies and websites, and a few more rotating among slush piles.
What draws you to Superversive writing?
The desire to build on what’s come before. For all the complaining about imminent doom and massive problems we have much better lives than our ancestors did a century or a millennium ago. I want to be part of making something better.
What are you working on at the minute?
I’m editing the sequel to Storm Between the Stars, which is Book Two in the Fall of the Censor series. I’m also working on Book Three, which is currently a bunch of somewhat related scenes and a partial outline. When I’m blocked on that or am seized by inspiration I write short stories.
Do you read much and if so who are your favorite authors?
Lots. I have thousands of books in the house, now gathering dust as the Kindle app on my phone has won out with lighter weight and larger fonts. I’m pretty much always reading when sitting. As mentioned above Heinlein and Bujold are my favorites. Other writers I love are Ringo, Weber, Stephenson, Hoyt, Correia, Spencer, Williams, and Vinge. I’ve been enjoying my fellow indie authors such as Declan Finn, MCA Hogarth, Julie Frost, Hans Schantz, Jeff Duntemann, Rob Hobart, Travis Corcoran, Rob Kroese, JA Sutherland, and our humble interviewer. If I’m stressed I may take a break with one of Georgette Heyer’s Regency romances.
How can readers discover more about you and your work?
I post releases at www.kelthavenpress.com . . . which is also copied to my Goodreads and Amazon pages. I also post links and the occasional snark on Twitter at @karlkgallagher.
Thanks for sharing Karl. Be sure to check out Karl’s books and be sure to check back next Sunday for our next chat with a Superversive author.
August 8, 2020
The Calling, Part 2, Chapter 7
A Work Of Star Trek Fan Fiction By Richard Paolinelli
© 2020 RICHARD PAOLINELLI . ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO COPYING OR ANY OTHER REPRODUCTION OF THIS STORY IS PERMITTED WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION. This is a work of fan fiction based in the universe of Star Trek, created by Gene Roddenberry. It is not intended to be sold, to be used to aid in any sale and is not to be copied or used in any other way by any other party.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Forelni floated in a sea of fuzzy white, following a faint murmur of voices. He couldn’t make out the exact words but clung to them like a lifeline.
“You’re hard man to kill, Commander,” McCoy’s voice came through loud and clear, snapping Forelni out of the hazy fog. He was looking up at the ceiling of sickbay and the lone soft light shining down on his bed. He became aware of a hand holding his left hand and turned his head. Bryna was standing there, smiling.
“She hasn’t left your side since we beamed up three days ago,” McCoy said. “If it hadn’t been for her getting to you and stopping the bleeding as quickly as she did we might have lost you.”
“Thank you,” Forelni added a light squeeze of her hand before looking back at the doctor. “How long did you say?”
“It’s been three days since the fight,” McCoy repeated. “Between the battle and the bullet you took quite a beating. But you’re going to be fine. You can sit up if you want and if you behave I might let you walk around a little. But don’t even think of trying to go back on full duty or whatever that is you call exercise down in Rec for awhile.”
“Aye, Sir,” Forelni cracked. “So what happened after the fight, which I recall winning.”
“You won,” McCoy confirmed, “and delivered quite a speech before you keeled over. The First Counsel has been on and off the ship in talks with the Captain and the Ambassador every day since. I’m told an agreement on planet-wide reforms is nearly done.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“I have hope for my people for the first time,” Bryna cut in. “We have you to thank for that. But that also means you will be leaving Kallita soon and that saddens me.”
“I’m sure we will have reason to return,” Bari assured, as he slowly sat up, surprised to discover how deeply he shared her sentiment. “We’ll see if my jailer will allow a tour of the ship before you go home.”
“Seeing as how you didn’t collapse after sitting up, we might see about cutting you loose tomorrow, for a tour and light duty only, understood?”
Forelni sketched a salute and got a patented McCoy grumble in response. The doors to sickbay parted, allowing entry to Kirk and the Ambassador before sliding shut.
“Mr. Forelni,” Kirk smiled. “Good to see you’re awake. How are you feeling?”
“Battered and bruised, Sir, but ready to get back to work.”
“After he gets some more rest,” McCoy added sternly, ignoring the knowing look that passed between Kirk and Forelni.
“We bring good news, Bari,” Kleine said. “We’ve reached an accord with the Kallitan government on wide-ranging reforms. The practice of slavery will be abolished. You made quite the impression down there, I must say. In fact, the First Counsel is waiting outside. He’d like a word with you if you are up to it?”
Forelni eased himself off the bed and stood up, waving off McCoy’s protestations.
“I’ll be damned if I receive that man while looking up at him, Doctor.”
Kirk walked back to the doors, silently noting that Forelni had positioned himself between the young Kallitan woman and the entrance.
“First Counsel,” he invited after the doors had parted. The Kallitan leader walked in and surveyed the room before addressing Forelni.
“Commander, my congratulations on your victory and your recovery.”
“Thank you, First Counsel,” Forelni replied, his tone matching the First Counsel’s lack of sincerity. “Most gracious of you.”
“It is the least I can do. Now that you have recovered, and our negotiations have concluded, I must ask that all Kallitan citizens on board this ship return to the planet with me at this time. We have much work to do down below.”
“And if the young woman wishes to remain as our guest for awhile longer?” Kirk’s own tone was less than cordial.
“I’m afraid, as a Kallitan citizen, she does not have a choice in the matter.”
Forelni turned and activated the panel next to his bed.
“Bridge, communications please.”
“Communications,” Lt. Uhura answered.
“Lieutenant, please send the following message to the Royal Court on Etalya, to the attention of the Court Chamberlain: Honorable Sir, effective this stardate in recognition of her actions, Bryna of Kallita, is granted full Etalyian citizenship and is hereby appointed as Etalyian Ambassador to Kallita. Signed His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Bari Forelni. Please send it as top priority.”
“Message transmitted, Commander.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant, Forelni out,” he snapped off the link and turned back to face his adversary.
“What does that mean?” Bryna asked.
“It means you may remain on the ship if you like,” Forelni explained. “You may even request transport to live on Etalya if you so desire. It also means, if you choose to return to Kallita, you will do so as my world’s official representative, with all of the protections that position entails.”
“And if we choose not to recognize her new status?” the First Counsel all but growled.
“It would not go well for you if you choose that path, First Counsel.”
“I see.”
“I will return home,” Bryna cut in.
“Are you certain?” Forelni turned to her, ignoring his foe as he took her hands in his.
“Yes, there is much I can do for my people now. Thank you for that and for all you have done.”
She favored him with a chaste kiss and walked toward the First Counsel.
“Let me be the first to welcome you, Ambassador,” Kleine stepped in, “and allow me the honor of escorting you to the Transporter Room. We can set up an office for you in the Federation Consulate when our diplomats return to the surface until something more permanent for you can be arranged.”
Kleine led her out of the room with the First Counsel following a few steps behind. Forelni waited until he was at the threshold.
“Not a scratch, First Counsel.”
The Kallitan hesitated for a split second before continuing out of the room without saying a word. Forelni stared at the closed doors.
“She’ll be fine,” Kirk said. “Making her an Ambassador will protect her. He wouldn’t dare do anything now.”
“I hope you are right, Captain,” Forelni sounded unconvinced as he glanced at the wall chrono. “My regular watch is scheduled to begin in three hours. Permission to go back on duty, Sir?”
“Now wait just a second,” McCoy barged in. “Granted you’ve managed to remain standing for more than five minutes without falling flat on your face, but you’re a far cry from being cleared for duty, Commander.”
“I can rest in a chair on the bridge just as easily as I can in my quarters, Doctor.”
“Perhaps light duty only, Bones,” Kirk offered. “He can stand a watch on the bridge and call me if anything happens?”
“Provided the Commander gets something to eat first and engages in nothing more strenuous than sitting,” McCoy allowed with a grumble. “I swear you’re a worse patient than Spock and the Captain combined.”
“Commander, I suggest we make our retreat before he changes his mind,” Kirk quipped. “I will see you on the bridge in three hours.”
Forelni wasted no time in taking his Captain’s suggestion and departed. He had to admit, three hours later as he made his way onto the bridge, a sonic shower and some food had done wonders. He was still sore in several places, and he doubted he was up to any kind of a fight, but he was feeling much better.
“Commander, it’s good to see you back in uniform,” Kleine greeted him, being the first one to spot his arrival.
“Thank you, Ambassador. It’s good to be back in it. Checking up on me already, Doctor?”
McCoy just harrumphed his reply as the evening watch crew arrived to relive their counterparts. After all were settled in, Forelni looked at Kirk.
“I believe your watch just ended, Sir.”
“Indeed it has, Commander, the bridge is…”
“Incoming transmission from Kallita, Captain,” Ensign Karina Fabian, Uhura’s relief at Communications, interrupted. “It’s the First Counsel, Sir.”
“On screen,” Kirk ordered.
The screen switched from the orbital view of the planet to the interior of the First Counsel’s chamber. The man was seated, flanked by the other members of the Kallitan government. He was holding a length of chain in one hand and wearing an ominous smile on his face.
“First Counsel,” Kirk greeted warily. “What can we do for you?”
“Ah, Captain Kirk, and I see Ambassador Kleine and Commander Forelni are present as well, good,” he began. “I am calling to inform you that the Kallitan government is formally withdrawing from the Federation.”
“Captain,” Spock called out, having returned to his station. “The force shield is back in place above the city.”
“Yes it is,” the First Counsel confirmed. “As there are no Federation citizens on Kallita, and none of our people are aboard your ship, this should be of no concern.”
“There is the matter of the Etalyian Ambassador, First Counsel,” Kirk said, beating Forelni to the punch by a whisker.
“Oh, yes, about that,” the man’s smile grew. “We have decided not to recognize her claim of Etalyian citizenship, nor do we accept her as your Ambassador, Prince Forelni.”
He snapped hard on the chain and Bryna, the other end of the chain hooked to a collar around her neck, tumbled to the floor I view of the pickup. She’d been badly beaten and her clothes were shredded rags. Then the viewscreen cut back to the orbital view of the planet.
“Communications ended, Sir,” Fabian reported in the shocked silence that had fallen onto the bridge.
Kirk placed a hand on Forelni’s shoulder.
“Commander,” he said softly, and then repeated it a little louder the next time to finally get his officer to turn away from the screen.
“I should have killed that man when I had the chance,” Forelni said in a tone devoid of emotion.
The vision of the badly-beaten woman still fresh in his mind, Kirk couldn’t honestly say that he disagreed.
* * * * *
Read Part 1 and all of the previous chapters of Part 2, right here.
August 7, 2020
Free Read Friday: Ambassador 1: Seeing Red by Patty Jansen
It’s Friday and that means it is once again time for another installment of: FREE READ FRIDAY!!!!!
This week’s book you can download for free on Kindle without having to sign up for KU is:
AMBASSADOR 1: Seeing Red by Patty Jansen
A political murder, a dangerous alien dictator, a young, inexperienced diplomat.
“I have been reading SCIFI for about 35 years. The Ambassador series is my latest new addiction. I have read the series pretty much non stop.”
[image error]This volume marks the start of the Ambassador series, a growing series of standalone adventures of diplomat Cory Wilson.
Cory is the first person from Earth appointed observer at Gamra, the alien organisation that monitors the FTL travel network. He’s had years of training in alien customs and languages…
… all wiped out the instant President Sirkonen is murdered by an alien entity.
Borders close, military goes on alert, the many aliens living on Earth are considered enemies, and Cory is recalled.
Except he is stuck in the Gamra capital Barresh, and he has some information that may reveal who killed the president, information that requires him to confront the most powerful man at Gamra, from a society where merely looking into the eye of a superior can get you murdered.
Start your Ambassador adventure today.
August 3, 2020
CouchCon 2020 Is Still On!!!
Well, instead of being bummed out, why not attend a con that will run for who knows how long? Better still, you don’t even need to step outside of your house or buy a ticket to attend!
Its CouchCon 2020!!!! Join the Facebook group by clicking the link below and get ready for the announcements for upcoming dealer rooms & panels galore.
COUCHCON 2020
#scifi #fantasy
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