Category Archives: Fiction

Stories, fan fiction, and the like

The Flying Cloud

When I came across advertisements for The Flying Cloud, I was a bit unsure of what to make of the illustrated serial story. To be honest, I’m not exactly a fan of most fanfiction (which TFC most definitely is not, I should add), due to inconsistencies in characterization and the like. I also tend to prefer reading fiction in print (or more recently on my Nook e-reader). Oh, there have been exceptions, such as back a decade ago with the older Homeworld fiction, but I tend for the most part to avoid reading online prose stories unless I’m familiar with the author.

Fortunately, I made an exception with TFC and was soon swept into an alternative history where U.S. President Woodrow Wilson managed in 1916 to negotiate an Armistice that restored the pre-War borders to Europe. In doing so, the military-driven development of aeroplanes was torpedoed, allowing dirigibles and airships to reign supreme in the skies. The serial story follows the exploits of British Captain Everett and the crew of the R-505 “Flying Cloud” in service to King George V (though when the story begins, they’re onboard the remains of the R-212 “Flying Lady” after they run across a mysterious unmarked airship that ambushes them).

The story follows the traditions of serial fiction, with each chapter maintaining a cohesive continuity with its brethren. For the most part the story is told sequentially, though when the cast of characters split up chronology sometimes can get fragmented as each subplot is fleshed out. There are also multiple homages and shout-outs, from multiple nods to H.P. Lovecraft’s Cthulhu mythos to a ship captain named Howard Phillips whose home port is in New England, to Star Trek of all things. Undoubtedly there are other historical shout-outs provided as well; unfortunately, my knowledge of the early 20th century is perhaps a bit lacking so I’m not quite sure when we’re seeing homages sneak in.

As for the overarching plot, some aspects of it are obvious at times such as the apparent development of atomic weaponry by a Russian scientist who is being pursued by German Nationalists – amusingly enough, it’s strongly suggested that the “discovery” is due in part to archaeological discoveries rather than by a team of scientists (this being related to elements of the Lovecraftian mythos that appear frequently in the story). While this may seem anachronistic given the time period, it works quite well with Captain Everett and crew trying to piece together what’s going on while being puzzled over interest in a mineral used to color glass.

It’s the cast of characters that make The Flying Cloud so enjoyable to read. The cast is varied, including the original members of the R-212 (with Captain Everett being your traditional “unflappable captain” who is still flexible enough to accept such things as female crew members and non-English personnel), as well as Sarah, an island girl who meets up with them (and who eventually falls for Iverson, a young executive officer who is being mentored by the Captain) and Pierre, a Frenchman criminal whose skills prove quite useful as the R-505 investigates the multiple conspiracies in the region around Australia. One bit I found especially amusing is the rather whimsical betting between the Scotsman Abercrombie and the Irishman MacKiernan over nearly any situation, especially when their lives (and that of the ship and crew) are on the line.

If there’s a problem with the web-serial, it’s that the story is addictive. Before you know it, you may find you spent five hours reading part of the archive. Given that it is a prose story (with the start of each chapter including an illustration with a humorous mouse-over caption), I must admit to some surprise that author Paul Gazis never bothered to create an e-book download so people could download it and read the story at their leisure. Needless to say, I recommend this web-serial, especially if they’re fans of alternative history fiction.

Stalking the Wolf

Special thanks go out to Emily Brady, whom I commissioned to draw the illustrations for the story, and to Emily Brady and Charlotte L. who provided editorial input for the story, and William Bellamy V who has worked with me for over a decade in designing the world and some of the characters found in this story.

* * * * *

Wolf PACT: Stalking the Wolf

by Robert A. Howard

Prologue


Franklin Park, Boston, Massachusetts
September 19, 2011

Richard appeared from nowhere, light playing about him as he appeared in the night, hinting at the vague shape of wings that weren’t there. He would deny them if she mentioned them. He said he’d walked away from that path long ago, though Angel could sense the anger and pain and overwhelming pride behind that vast wound, despite his being Other, and alien to her talents.

He towered over her by over a foot, and Angel found herself looking up at his pale face, searching for a clue as to what he was thinking. He stared back down at her without expression. Still, Angel could catch glimpses; moments of emotion, the occasional thought. She knew why he was here. And she knew that while he’d try to convince her to change her mind, he’d not act. At least, not directly. Not this time.

“You shouldn’t be here, Angel. Not now; you’ve over a hundred years to wait before you left. You should come with me. I’ll get you back to your proper time. Eventually,” he said, his voice a soft baritone that barely carried in the darkness. He seemed cloaked with pale light from the waning moon; the darkness almost abhorred him. Even his pale shadow appeared silvery, casting the night away from him.

“You’re glowing,” she said, chiding. Richard glanced down at himself and snorted. Darkness crept back around him though it still refused to touch him. She rolled her eyes and looked into the park. “I’ve been bouncing through space and time for the past three thousand years trying to get home. All I have to do is wait. What’s a hundred years after all that? Besides, it’s not like you ever brought me home. Despite your promises,” she added, her last words distinct and hard.

Richard had the decency to look embarrassed as his gaze followed hers. “It wasn’t the right time. I can’t change how things happen. Nor should you. Are you really going to cause a paradox? And for what, some girl who died millennia ago?”

Angel glared up at Richard. “Her name is Jenny, and she’s not dead yet. She doesn’t deserve to die, not like that. And she doesn’t have to. I know what I’m doing. There won’t be a paradox. Her body will be found, that fucker will remember torturing her…” Angel paused, looking down at the ground as she whispered “and I’ll think she’s dead.” Angel smiled, though it didn’t touch her eyes as she looked back up at Richard. “Well, my younger self will.”

He continued to stare out into the park and after a moment Angel felt the need to continue talking. She knew what Richard was doing; by remaining silent, he was forcing her to fill that silence. She’d end up saying more than if he’d asked what she was going to do. But it was better for him to know the truth. While she believed he wouldn’t act against her… it was better to be safe. “I’ve grown a clone of Jenny,” she said; “It’ll die in her place. No one will know the difference. Your precious causality will be preserved.”

One of Richard’s eyebrows twitched upward at her sarcasm. “You’ll keep her from her family? Deny them the truth? It’s better that she just die, than to live a lie,” Richard said, turning back toward her. He gazed dispassionately down at her, and Angel felt a crick in her neck as she met his gaze.

“Her dad beats her for being gay,” Angel said; she clenched her fist, her knuckles turning white as she looked down at her hands. “Her mother doesn’t even talk to her any longer. You know they blamed me for her death. Hell, we were talking about running away together. She won’t care.” Angel opened her hand and sighed, the tension draining from her body. It was almost time. “Don’t interfere, Richard. I don’t want to hurt you.”

She stalked off along one of the footpaths, heading toward Overlook Ruins. She’d gone there with Jenny that… this night. Jenny had fought with her parents again, and Angel… she paused for a moment. She could sense her younger self, could feel Jenny and her anger and grief. And if she tried very hard she could catch a glimmer of thought from Jenny’s killer. She paused, taking deep breaths while she sought her center. She had to be careful. Richard was partly right; Jenny’s killer had to go free, no matter how much it rankled.

It did. After over three thousand years she still bore the scar on her throat, a thin white line that was barely visible. She’d been attacked and cast aside; she hadn’t been the target. Not that time. She had just been in the way. And there’d been no way she could have saved Jenny. Not then. Her talents were just emerging and had been intermittent until this night, when desperate need and a good samaritan had kept her from dying.

Angel had to admit she was curious as to the identity of her savior. He’d left soon after the paramedics arrived; the police report didn’t mention anything about the person who saved her life. She suspected he (or she) had been one of the Unregistered as her throat had been half-healed by the time she’d been admitted to Shattack Hospital.

Not that there were that many Unregistered paranormals back in ’11; only a relative handful of Emergents had evaded the federal dragnet rounding up paranormals after the Christmas Plague in ’96, or the subsequent registration and training of paranormals after the Congress pushed through the Federal Tracking and Training program. But there had been a bit of distrust with the government, especially after President Gore dragged them into war and occupation of Iraq in retribution for the bioterror attack after Clinton’s assassination.

The attack happened so fast Angel almost missed it; Even after all this time, after learning so much, she could barely sense the killer. Richard was more open to her talents, even with his hybrid thoughts that could barely be considered human, no matter what the appearance of his physical shell. From her younger self, Angel felt surprise… panic… a sudden realization of pain and of fear as she started bleeding to death. Jenny’s own thoughts seemed trapped in amber; a moment of horror from seeing the blood spurt from her friend’s throat… and helplessness as she was dragged away.

Everything was prepared; the clone was hidden near where Jenny had been found. But Angel paused, watching her younger self bleeding to death, her hand clutched impotently at her throat trying to hold her life’s blood in even as consciousness faded. Something was wrong.

Angel cast her awareness out. There was no one nearby. No one had noticed the attack. There was no good samaritan rushing to her younger self’s aid. She couldn’t even sense Richard… Are you really going to cause a paradox? he’d asked. And suddenly she realized why Richard hadn’t pulled her away. Why she had been allowed to be here to begin with… and how her throat had been half-healed when she’d been found.

“Richard… please,” she whispered. But he was gone. Angel stepped out of the woods, running to the side of her younger self. Blood was pooling around her head, and her younger self’s hand had dropped away from her throat, letting blood bubble out. Angel closed her eyes and ran telekinetic fingertips through the wound; the jugular veins had been severed, along with the superior thyroid artery.

Tears scalded her eyes and ran down her cheeks as Angel struggled to save her younger self’s life. She had no time for anything fancy; one mistake, and she’d lose her. “I’m sorry, Jenny,” she whispered and closed her eyes to focus on the life she could save.

* * * * *

Fiction: Final Rest

Every so often I get an urge to write up some fiction. This one is fairly short for me (the original idea was for something a bit longer, and I shifted the venue to help reduce the length) and was inspired from a couple of comments on the Footloose tagboard and from this sketch Emily drew a bit back. Please note, I have no idea what the ending of Footloose will be, so don’t expect this sort of thing to happen in the comic.

Anyway, enjoy! I’ll be wrapping up the Meta-review hopefully in a day or two.

——————-

Final Rest

By Robert A. Howard

A light breeze played with the blades of grass growing from the grave. Keti glanced up at the sun, feeling its warmth on her skin. It almost seemed wrong somehow that it was warm and sunny here. Keti took a deep breath and stepped away from An, kneeling by the grave. She could feel tears tumble from her eyes and her throat tightened as a sob threatened to escape; Keti struggled to keep it in.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and glanced up gratefully at An. An had been there for her, letting Keti cry on her shoulder, and supporting her. An had promised him she’d stay by Keti’s side, and Keti felt guilt mingled with gladness that she wouldn’t be losing An at least. He’d made her promise not to drive An off, not to let her guilt destroy her. But it was hard. It was very hard.

“It’s my fault.” Keti blinked on hearing her own voice, so soft that the rustle of grass almost suppressed it. An heard, though.

“He’d not think so.”

Keti shook her head, looking at the gravestone. “How can you say that? It’s my fault… I should have listened to Flibbage, instead of following you guys like some folking idiot…”

An sighed and was quiet for a moment. Keti glanced up at her; An was staring at the grave, her eyes shining. “If you hadn’t followed… well, we might not have gotten the Sword back. My sister might have defeated us. Who can tell? Besides… if you weren’t with us… you wouldn’t have fallen in love with him,” she said and smiled, “though he was attracted to you back at the Dojo, you know.”

The wind picked up, blowing Keti’s hair in her face, and she turned back to the grave. Her heart constricted, and Keti clenched her fists into the grass. It hadn’t been there yesterday. Flibbage must have grown it with her magic. But there were limits to what even Flibbage could do. “Your sister didn’t drive the Sword through his chest. It was me. My fault.”

An knelt beside her and turned Keti toward her, hugging Keti’s face to her shoulder. “That wasn’t you. It was Kaeti. And you… finished her. None of us could have done what you did.”

Keti laughed through her tears and said, “Cherry beat her, with his magic. And Daniel got the Sword away from her. She almost killed him too! All I did was drive it through that bitch’s chest.” She closed her eyes and whispered, “Sometimes I think she’s the lucky one.”

An pulled away from her and gave her a small shake. “Don’t say that. I should have stopped her. I… I hesitated,” An said, and Keti heard the suppressed grief in An’s voice. “If you’re to blame, then so am I.”

Keti opened her eyes and saw her pain reflected in An’s eyes. She understood. She really did. An stood and held out a hand for Keti. She took it and let An pull her up; Keti put a hand on her belly as she stood and glanced back at the grave. She was barely showing, and the t-shirt hid that. For now.

“You know, he’ll live on in you, through your child,” An said, her voice barely heard above the rustling of grass. Keti sniffled and smiled hesitantly back while blinking away tears.

“Twins. Least, Jin thinks so, though I have to wonder if that’s wishful thinking so she can be an ‘auntie’ to two babies,” Keti said. She glanced down at the gravestone and added, “Mom says he died on purpose so she couldn’t kill him.”

“No he didn’t. Iordan was no coward,” An said. Keti glanced over at her and saw An’s eyes were narrow. Anger shone in them. Yes, An understood, even if Keti’s mother didn’t. She gave An a grateful hug and turned away from Iordan’s grave.

An was right. He’d been the bravest man she’d ever known.

Fiction – Guardian Angels

Three and a half years ago, I wrote up a short story fan fiction for the webcomic College Roomies from Hell (one of many submissions for the 2,000 Strip Extravaganza, though the story wasn’t chosen). This obviously was back when I was still reading the comic, and I believe it’s the last webcomic-related fan fiction I’ve written. The story obviously takes place before April went completely insane and rammed a knife through Mike’s sternum (and was actually written before that point, and before I wrote the character off). As the story is over 4,000 words in length, I’m only going to include an excerpt of the beginning of the short story, and a link will lead to the page which contains the entire story.

I probably should add in a warning that the story contains an intense emotional (non-sexual) situation that may be disturbing to some readers. Reader discretion is advised.

———————————–

Guardian Angels
by Robert A. Howard

April stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Brown eyes stared back at her, deep shadows lurking under her eyes. Her bangs drifted over her eyes and she pushed them back, pushed her hair back, her fingers catching in snarls.

Her hair had never been quite right after the incident when the new dorms blew up. The back of it had gotten burnt. Still, she resisted cutting it short; she remembered that her mother had always loved braiding her hair. Keeping it long was a way to honor her memory. And she couldn’t remember much of her mother. She had tantalizing tidbits here and there, loving moments of being with her mother, but that was all. And she remembered the fall, when her mother had slipped from the trapeze… and her father had tried to catch her and cushion her body with his own… and failing.

But it didn’t matter now. None of it mattered. It never had. She was imperfect. Incomplete. Whatever her dad had said… whatever act that had separated her and June, turning his daughter into twins, each having gotten part of the original’s memories… and soul, had left her a shadow, a defective copy. June was right about that. She was defective. That was why she was alone.

Mike was busy taking Marsha out to dinner, to some fancy restaurant where the guys had to wear ties and a jacket, and the girls fancy dresses. Marsha had actually splurged, dragging April along to go to various shops until she found a dress she liked, something with a high back to conceal her wings, but cut down low in the front to show off her breasts. And a new bra to push them up more, make her look larger than she was.

Not that Mike cared about breast size. Hers were easily bigger than Marsha’s. But Mike never looked twice at them. He never looked twice at her. April watched a tear tumble from her eyelashes and down her cheek, hot against her flesh, and she rubbed it away, pulling up the neck of her nightie to rub her eyes.

April looked down at it; white lace sewn on top of pale pink cotton, a little bow between her breasts. She used to dream of wearing it to bed for Mike. Or for any guy really. But outside of Roger, she didn’t think any man had seen her in it. She’d brought it with her from home… and in all that time, she’d found no one. Dave had been wrong about that. She wouldn’t find someone. Why would anyone waste time with her?

She heard a door shut and listened for a moment, but heard nothing else. It was probably across the hall. Margaret had gone out shooting with some of her buddies in the gun club. Not that she really wanted to spend time with the brunette; Margaret had mostly avoided her since the guys had brought her back from wherever she’d run away to.

(Click to continue to the story)

Fiction – The Trip – Prologue

Several years ago I finished the first draft of an original novel, The Trip. It was based in part from an old fan fiction I had written in 2002 using characters from Maritza Campos’ webcomic series College Roomies from Hell; back in ’02 I wrote up a horror story about an Ice Elemental that was going after campers. While I kept the monster and secondary characters I introduced in that story, the process of rewriting the two protagonists to be uniquely my own characters helped shape the story itself. One inherent problem with the revised story, however, was that I had two antagonists; the “monster” from the original fan fiction, and the Unseelie sidhe, Tynan, who would prove to be responsible for so much of what Ginny (the new primary protagonist of the novel) was going through.

After some thought I decided to try and integrate the two antagonists. It seemed far too obvious that Tynan would be behind the problems Daniel and Miriam faced when camping… but I did not just want to make the Elemental into a generic minion of the Unseelie. Thus the rewrite.

I’m including the first section of the revised prologue and the original. I welcome comments and questions on the story segments (and apologize that the revised segment doesn’t go further as I need to get up early tomorrow, which precludes staying up ’til 4 in the morning to continue the rewrite).

And now: The Trip

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Only a fool willingly worked for the Unseelie Court. Aneira brushed her white hair out of her eyes and glanced back at the shadow-cloaked sidhe following her. Two of his soldiers were behind him, part of the larger band of Unseelie that had entered her village three nights earlier. Only a fool worked willingly for the Unseelie Court; but with the safety of her village at stake, she would have been a fool to deny the sidhe prince’s demands.

The air was so cold that the sidhe’s breath crystallized and fell to the ground with each exhale. She was long used to it; indeed, the fires the Unseelie built while they camped during the short daylit hours were painful for her to be near, as with the rest of her kin. Still, she did not dare wander far from her “employers.” It was not safe to be out and about in the frozen lands during the day, not even for the snow fae. And while the sun had set an hour earlier, some of the nastier predators continued to hunt until the wee hours of the morning.

She had wondered why the sidhe even needed her at first; with his soldiers and glamour he could easily take down even the deadliest of prey. But he had left most of his soldiers at the town, holding it hostage for her good behavior and to encourage her to lead him to what he sought; an Ice Elemental. Aneira suppressed the urge to shake her head. It was madness to seek out the Elementals. They were unpredictable and all-but-impossible to kill.

Aneira was more than half tempted to lead him deep into the frigid wastes and abandon him to the gulon. Yet she stayed her hand. The sidhe had promised her that her children would suffer a slow painful death if she tried to betray him; even if she succeeded, she did not know how she could free her children from the sidhe’s soldiers.

Besides. He did not want to slay an Ice Elemental. He meant to capture it. He was surely mad… and would likely die the moment he tried to command one to do his bidding. The Elementals were contrary in nature, and delighted in freezing everything around them. All she had to do was lead him to what he desired, and let his own foolishness end him.

It would not be much further; Aneira could see the signs. The trees were all coated with a glaze of ice, while the air had an extra bite to it that even she felt. Ahead she could see a clearing in the pale light of the crescent moon. The moonlight sparkled off of the ground ahead. If the Elemental was not in the clearing, it was nearby.

She paused before the clearing; the air had grown noticeably colder, leaving even her breath to steam in the frigid air. She put up a hand in warning and the sidhe and his soldiers stopped without a sound. The moon slipped down past the trees, but the light did not fade. If anything, it grew brighter.

The light seemed to emanate from the center of the glade, a pale green glow that illuminated a swirl of mist that wafted through the clearing and to the far side of the glade. It twined around the trunk of a small tree and then seemed to press inward; there was a loud crack and the tree collapsed downward, sending shards of wood scattering through the glade.

“There is your Elemental, my lord. But I know of no magic that can control it,” she cautioned quietly, so not to attract the Elemental’s attention. “They are being of instinct, of action. You cannot bargain with them. You cannot bribe them or coerce them.”

“I do not need to control it. Just you,” he said, and she turned in panic. He held an opal in his hand; he spoke a Word that reverberated in her ears and light flared from the opal to fill her until she knew no more.

———————————

Here’s the original start to The Trip:

It existed without form but with reason and purpose. It was ice and cold, the cold of the winds blowing in the blackest nights of the long Artic winters and the shadows on the face of the moon. All it knew was this elemental pureness… and of the others, like and yet unlike it. It was not unique, nor was it incredibly old. But it was curious, especially of the others. That proved to be its undoing.

The opening was small and unstable. That didn’t stop it from moving through to peer at the other side. It felt intense heat on the other side and quickly smothered the heat, causing ice to form along a circle on the ground – elemental earth, but muted, unlike the elementals it had encountered before. In fact, the earth was… polluted, a combination of earth, water, air, and even a touch of fire.

The Circle stopped the young Elemental and kept it in. It resisted in a way the young elemental had never encountered before. The Elders mentioned this before, wards… and then memory surfaced, of why the wards would exist. But by then it was too late. The opening vanished, trapping it in this strange alien world.

Outside two forms stood, beings with a darkened twisted life-glow. Impure. The Elders had mentioned these before as well… and the young elemental realized with a shiver of horror just what those two things were. Humans.

Homeworld: Exodus – Chapter 3, Part 1

Homeworld: Exodus

by Robert A. Howard

Chapter 3, Part 1: The Great Wastelands – The Oort Cloud

Fleet Intelligence Personal Log:

We have emerged at the outer edges of the Kharak system. All ships emerged from hyperspace in formation; Karan was able to make adjustments while in hyperspace to keep the Death’s Redemption and Sand Vortex on course. She believes she will have no problems keeping our larger ships in close proximity with the Mothership no matter how far we jump.

Karan has also initiated a build order for a second mining ship, the Starlight, while retooling the construction line for our fighters, corvettes, and frigates. Using modular components in our ships will allow the Shipyards to construct multiple ships at one time; theoretically, Karan could have eight fighters, four corvettes, and two frigates under construction at the same time, though ship launches would be staggered to avoid potential collisions. Unless we find significantly more resources, however, we’ll not have the ability to test this functionality.

The Mothership emerged from hyperspace almost 20 kilometers from one of the densest known asteroid families our astronomers had found in the Oort cloud. Unfortunately, there isn’t much in the region, and most of that is covered with a fairly thick coating of volatile ices which makes these Oort bodies difficult and dangerous to mine. The remainder either lack metallic components or are lone remnants that aren’t worth our time to go after.

The longer we stay in the Kharakian system, the greater the likelihood our new enemies will discover our presence and attack us. In addition, we need to track down the Taiidan scum who burned our world, and destroy them before they have a chance to rebuild. Information in the Taiidan databanks offers several star systems where the fleet that destroyed Kharak may be holed up. But our fleet consists of a stolen frigate, two flights of light interceptors, and three light corvettes. It’s obvious our forces are insufficient to withstand an assault from the Taiidan forces. We need more time, time to design our own frigates, gather enough resources to build our own fleet, and train crews for these ships.

One added benefit of this region of the Oort cloud is the large level of dust found here, along with oddly fragmented P-type asteroids in several localized asteroid families. The relative lack of heavy metals is unfortunate, though the silicates and water ice will be useful, and hints of magnetism among the fragments suggests the presence of troilite. It is believed that two cometary bodies collided centuries ago, resulting in the vaporization of the grozen gasses the made up the majority of the outer shell of the comet. The heaviest fragments stayed together, while diffuse particles boiled away with the volatile gasses. This theory would also explain the dust field.

The Dreamscape and Starlight were sent to begin mining operations, along with the Sand Vortex, Echo squadron, and the Death’s Redemption. Wasp squadron is remaining in the Mothership while final testing of the Blade Mk.5. As the pilots have less combat experience with the Arrow, it is hoped they will adjust to the new fighters once manufacturing begins.

Chief Engineer Maren Somtaaw reports that efforts to rebuild the alien missile corvette have been successful, and that a second alien fighter has also been rebuilt. The two alien Bandit-class fighters have been launched with a pair of our best test pilots to better determine the abilities of these strikecraft and to scout out the region. While our own Arrow light interceptors are faster than the Bandit, by using the alien craft we are hoping to confuse any enemies we encounter in the area. Sort of like the Manaani stories where Kharakians don the fur of dunewolves to hide from packs of dunewolves in the Kharakian deserts.

Repairs on the Quiltwork are also complete. Engineers stripped down much of the interior of the corvette and rebuilt her from the ground up. I understand that there are plenty of volunteers to fly the craft, which confuses me. I’ve heard complaints about using resources from ripping apart the Taiidani frigates, superstitious nonsense which no doubt includes fears of vengeful ghosts and the like. But it’s the most superstitious among the crew who are volunteering for the Quiltwork; I’m told they say the ghosts of those who died on board will protect the corvette from further harm.

I’m of two minds of this. First, I can’t stand superstitious thinking. It’s a sign of a weak mind and it risks the viability of our fleet and our people. But when stupidity works to our benefit… no. Even then it’s not worth it. We’re facing an alien empire that likely numbers in the billions. We are barely 600,000 strong. Even if Kharak had not been destroyed… we will not prevail against the Taiidan through strength of arms. It will take intelligence and cunning to defeat our foes. The Taiidan can afford stupidity. We cannot.

Fortunately, this religious thinking is likely in the minority. Those chosen for the Exodus are the brightest and best Kharak has… had to offer. Kharak herself is– was unforgiving of stupidity among its adopted children. I have to wonder. If we survive, if we reach Hiigara and either are accepted by our people there, or reclaim it from whoever possesses it now… where will we be in a hundred years? Will this purge of our people ultimately have some silver lining?

* * * * *

Research on the Blade Mk.5 is complete. From what we’ve viewed from files recovered from the Taiidani frigates, their fighter (Tactical has designated it as the “Triikor,” named after a predator cat indiginous to Kharak) is more maneuverable and has a heavier cannon. Our own twin cannons have a higher rate of fire, however, which will hopefully compensate for the Taiidani advantage. Wasp squadron has been outfitted with the new fighter and are currently conducting combat trials to get a better feel for their new strikecraft.

In addition, the Illumination reports that they’re ready to start testing a new corvette design, the Hammer. This corvette will be significantly heavier than the Cavalier corvette, with a second turret, with fragmentation and armor piercing ammunition that can be switched out quickly, and considerably heavier armor. While the Hammer is a little slower than the Cavalier, the majority of the weight was at the expense of crew quarters; the cockpit cocoon is loaded directly into the craft with the pilot and armor plating bolted in place behind them. The only way out is by ejecting the cockpit cocoon or by having a technician unseal the plate and unload the cockpit.

I understand that the pilots crewing the test craft have already nicknamed the Hammer as “Coffins,” though from what I understand this not because they consider it a “death trap” but rather that the cockpit cocoon can be… claustophobic. Still, the significantly heavier armor and armament should help keep these corvettes in battle significantly longer than other strikecraft. The only real threat to the craft would come from frigates like those we captured (our decryption team has unlocked some files on the frigate, designated the “Kudaark.” What the word means, we don’t yet know); tests on the tracking systems on the Death’s Redemption shows it can accurately track corvettes. Tactical is already testing wargame scenarios on how to best fight the Kudaark.

Work is also underway to miniaturize the Taiidani plasma torpedo launcher; the Taiidani plasma torpedo spaceplanes proved quite effective against large targets.

I’ve just been informed that sensors have just detected a sensor contact; a huge energy signature. We are on full combat alert. I’ll continue this later.

* * * * *

We’ve made contact with a new alien species. They appear to not be hostile.

According to Karan S’jet, the alien vessel, which outmasses the Mothership, was not detected emerging from hyperspace. It just appeared in our sensors suddenly. Karan ordered the two Bandit fighters to investigate it, and we soon had telemetry on the alien vessel.

The alien vessel is luminous. It was shaped much like a steeder-shoe with a U-shape, though thicker and without the crossbars used in steeder-shoes for added support. The vessel also has a grace and beauty to it that has not been observed in other alien vessels. It seems doubtful that the aliens are affiliated with the species that has attacked us and is responsible for the burning of Kharak.

Bandit-1 reports that there were no visible engine ports. We cannot identify their propulsion system; the ship is clearly far more advanced than our own or the aliens that attacked us. The vessel glided before the Mothership and smoothly matched our velocity and vector before spinning to face us. It has not responded to communication hails, and the Diplomatic Corp has suggested we send an ambassadorial vessel to dock with the alien ship and open negotiations.

I will not be a part of the ambassadorial team. The entire staff in Fleet Intelligence, including my most vocal opponents who were so adamant that Admiral Telar would be a superior head to Fleet Intelligence than myself, turned against me and let me know that I was too valuable to be risked in a First Contact situation. I suspect Karan could hear the shouting through the bulkheads separating Fleet Command from Fleet Intelligence.

I’ll regret not being a part of the team that is making First Contact with the aliens for the rest of my life.

An ambassadorial corvette was quickly designed along the lines of the Hammer, but without weapons, ejection systems, or targeting systems. More importantly, the internal crew quarters can be opened from an interior hatch. It’s a bit cramped, especially with an honor guard of marines and the Diplomatic team, but it should suffice. I assigned Captain Zarrin LiirHra as the vessel’s captain, and assigned Lt. Jaana Somtaaw as the corvette’s pilot; it will hopefully distract her from what she went through on the surface of Kharak. The Ambassadorial team consists of Major Karier Kaalel, Captain S’inol Maanan, and Captain Jaharen Kaalel, along with six Sobani marines.

Lt. Jaana is maneuvering the corvette past Wasp and Anvil squadrons and headed toward the alien vessel. Captain Zarrin is giving us a running commentary as he approaches the alien vessel; they are hailing the craft as they approach; they’ve entered a magnetic field and… the ship has lost guidance and is being drawn into a brightly-lit docking bay. Zarrin is reporting activity… We’ve lost radio contact. We’re still receiving some telemetry from the ambassadorial corvette. There’s nothing to do but wait.

* * * * *

Homeworld: Exodus – Chapter 2, Part 3

The engineering crew that boarded the secured alien frigate found that its computers were similar to those found in the wreckage of the Khar-Toba. The similarities between the two systems allowed engineers to access non-protected files. This included footage of the alien assault on Kharak.

The computers had several language translators, including a language very close to ancient Kharakian. While the data files concerning this language were in protected areas of the ship’s computer, the computer was able to translate data into a language we could understand.

It is curious and disturbing that these aliens know our language.

Initial images revealed a couple of probes moving toward the Scaffolding and Kharak. It is likely the footage was from another probe launched in a spread pattern, similar to what we did to gather intelligence of the alien carrier back at the wreckage of the Khar-Selim. The alien probes are squat barrel-like devices lacking elegance or beauty. Their design appears fairly utilitarian but is for all practical purposes on par with our own probe technology.

Additional footage appeared from what were likely strikecraft involved in the assault. Footage includes corvettes from the Kharak Defense Fleet moving into defensive formations with a pair of Porter Mk. II corvettes. They were quickly destroyed. The strikecraft involved in the assault appear to range from light fast interceptors, a plasma-torpedo spaceplane, and an oddly-designed heavy interceptor that appears superior in maneuverability to current specs for the Blade Mk. 5.

There was also footage of the frigate Sandstrike, its fighter cover destroyed, surrounded by alien strikecraft, three frigates, and a larger ship. This ship easily outmassed the Sandstrike and the other frigates and possessed armor heavy enough to withstand a direct hit from the Sandstrike’s spinal-mounted mass driver. The last shots of the Sandstrike showed her burning, the engines half-severed and plasma leaking from its engines.

The Scaffolding itself retained its fighter cover, comprised of several Arrows and some Shield Mk. 1 defense fighters along with the older Dagger interceptor. The fighter cover was insufficient. Alien interceptors proceeded to draw off the Scaffolding’s fighter cover, allowing the torpedo spaceplanes to target structurally vulnerable sections of the Scaffolding. One of the shots must have struck something vulnerable… plasma appears to have poured through the interior of the Scaffolding, venting from several bulkheads and landing bays… finally, the Scaffolding collapsed in on itself. It’s doubtful anyone survived.

The last footage we recovered was of a large fleet of alien ships. One was obviously a carrier. Its escort consisted of numerous frigates and three larger vessels, including the ship that destroyed the Sandstrike. Missiles from Kharak Missile Defense penetrated their defenses and destroyed several frigates, one of the larger vessels, and causing considerable damage to the Carrier itself.

In retaliation… the carrier and its fleet moved toward Kharak and… something was launched from its primary hanger bay, a missile of some sort that targeted the northern hemisphere of Kharak. Fires… fires began to sweep across… the northern part of Kharak turned black in a matter of seconds. The aliens impassively reported casualty estimations and temperature readings.

That’s all we recovered.

These– these bastards killed our people. And then sent those frigates to eliminate the rest of us, to kill six hundred thousand men and women who were helpless, who don’t even know that Kharak… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t let my emotions get the best of me.

I’ve just received a report that the second alien frigate has been captured. It’s believed that we captured the ship’s captain, along with several members of the crew. Our own casualties include seven dead Sobani marines; I don’t have names for them yet, but I will request that information. Another fourteen marines are injured, several critically.

Rather than risk added loss of life, Karan S’jet has suggested we drill holes into the remaining frigate and flood the interior with superheated plasma. I think that would be an excellent method of exterminating the vermin who remain on the third frigate. The vessel will be torn apart with fusion torches and used to augment our limited resources.

The alien captain has been brought to a medical facility. I’ll be heading up the interrogation momentarily.

* * * * *

I never thought these aliens would look… it was startling to see the similarities between these aliens and the Kharakian people. Oh, there are significant differences like with the structure of the outer ears and flattened nasal structure, but fundamentally the aliens were like us; they had a bipedal structure, were warm-blooded, their eyes had a visual range similar to ours (though the iris is slitted)… and weaknesses to some of the same chemicals that Kiith Kaalel found useful for interrogations during the Heresy Wars.

If our translations are correct, then the alien Captain revealed his squadron of frigates was part of an advanced fleet for a huge galactic empire. They call themselves the Taiidan. The captain claimed that we broke a 4,000 year treaty which forbade our people from developing hyperspace technology. The consequence of breaking this treaty was the burning of Kharak.

The Taiidan Captain did not survive interrogation.

I suspect the autopsy will reveal the alien died as a result of the chemicals used to… encourage his cooperation. We took care to keep him alive as long as possible. Intelligence is far more valuable at this juncture than revenge.

The alien frigate was disassembled and science crews on the Illumination are working to reverse-engineer the ship’s weapon systems, superstructure, and engines. Working from what we learned with the Sandstrike and from initial examinations of the alien frigates, a prototype vessel was designed to test the various technologies. The Redemption-class frigate was also designed with two added purposes: docking facilities would enable the Redemption to hold resources gathered by small groups of Providence mining ships, while eight docking points would let the Redemption refuel up to six interceptors and two corvettes at one time.

The Sand Vortex also would allow testing of another technology that the Somtaaw mining station on one of Haarsuk’s inner moons has– had been testing; micro-wormholes for matter transference. A decade ago, our scientists were studying alternative methods of faster-than-light travel. We weren’t sure how common the rare earths required for hyperdrive modules are in the galaxy, and having an alternative method of entering hyperspace was both economical and strategically sound.

The micro-wormhole uses some form of quantum tunneling using two charged quantum plates which are separated. I don’t know how to put it in Kharakian, and only understand part of the math behind it. All I know is that it creates a hole in space allowing for instantaneous matter transference. The problem is that matter traveling through the wormhole is reduced to undifferentiated molecules (atomic dust). In addition, even the largest fusion reactors on the Scaffolding could only create a wormhole approximately 8 cm in diameter. This makes it fairly useless as a weapons platform or the like, but had applications for instantaneous communications and the transfer of materials over long distances.

My one problem with the Sand Vortex is the lack of even anti-fighter weapons. Turrets such as those on the Cavalier corvette is a proven technology and would allow the Sand Vortex to help protect mining craft from any possible threats the ships encounter. Karan suggested that added weapon systems would make the ship a military target, and Tactical nominally agreed with her.

Another shortfall of the Redemption is its lack of multiple docking points for mining ships. Chief Engineer Maren Somtaaw voiced the initial complaint on this lack and I agree with her on this. Multiple dock points would increase the efficiency of mining operations and allow for mining ships to continue their job uninterrupted should a docking port malfunction. Hopefully a next-generation resource control vessel will compensate for these shortcomings.

Manufacturing bays were able to build the larger vessel without difficulty. Trial runs of the Sand Vortex were successful; I did not ask the crew of the Dreamscape where they found resources. I know they did not harvest any wreckage from the debris field over Kharak, and it was decided early on to leave the Scaffolding alone. It is a floating tomb now, holding over 20,000 of the best scientists and engineers Kharak had to offer. It also floats as a monument to Kharak itself… to a people who dared to reach out and touch the stars.

* * ** *

Rescue and recovery efforts have been completed. The Quiltwork was recovered; engineer Eleai Somtaaw was still alive, though she has suffered from burns across much of her body. It is believed she will recover eventually.

Another unexpected rescue was of pilot Jenalle Soban; her Arrow had crashed into the first frigate we captured. She has suffered multiple contusions and doctors are working to try and save her legs, which were crushed when her cockpit collapsed during the impact. Even if they save her, I’m not sure if she’ll ever be able to fly again. I wonder if it might almost be more merciful if she dies on the operating table; her personnel file shows she loves to fly.

Finally, we had one last unexpected rescue; Lieutenant Jaana Somtaaw managed to lift off from Kharak’s surface; she and Captain T’amin Somtaaw had descended to the tallest mountain, Lungma Jiin. If I remember correctly, it’s the location of the Somtaaw Temple of the Mysteries. As per my orders, Chief Engineer Maren Somtaaw had her isolated until I could interrogate her.

She was rather subdued. She said that Captain T’amin ordered her to pilot him to Lungma Jiin, claiming that it was the one place where survivors were most likely as the other mountains shielded it from the initial air blast from the Taiidani weapon. She was able to descend to the mountain; considering the turbulence from the atmosphere boiling off, I have to admit to some surprise they were able to safely land.

Upon reaching the Temple of the Mysteries, she said they donned oxygen masks and disembarked the shuttle, going into the temple itself. They found no survivors. Captain T’amin ordered her back to the ship and remained behind.

Naturally she was withholding information. Her story was too full of holes. She finally admitted under further questioning that Captain T’amin… ordered her from the Temple at gunpoint. He turned the gun on himself once she had closed the doors to the shuttle. She begged me not to add that to his record so that his death could be considered honorable.

I have stricken the remarks concerning his actions from the official records.

Lieutenant Jaana agreed to keep what she saw to herself. I have also ordered her to undergo a psychological evaluation. Only a half dozen people even know she went to the surface, and I have ordered them to remain silent on this. Karan has talked several people out of committing suicide already. We only– we only were going to be gone for several years. And now… we’re all that’s left.

There are 51,323 men and women on the Mothership, not including the Kharakians in cold storage. Which reminds me, I’ve received reports that damage to Cryotray #3 is bad enough that we will have to remove some of the people from cryogenic suspension. We’re still determining total casualties from the Cryotrays; it is probable that we’ve lost over 30,000 people. We’ve had to remove over 3,600 people from cryogenic suspension. They are being kept in isolation from the rest of the crew until their condition stabilizes; all they know is that there was a catastrophic failure in their Cryotray and that they had to be woken prematurely. I don’t know how we’re going to break it to them.

Chief Engineer Maren tells me that they were able to reconstruct one of the alien fighters from the wreckage we gathered at the Khar-Selim, along with the alien missile corvette. We don’t understand enough of the technology to replicate it for our own use, but it will be a useful supplement to our own defenses. In addition, the alien fighter will be of use in reconnaissance. It’s unknown if the IFF beacon we installed will be detected by alien sensors, but hopefully the aliens won’t fire on their own ships.

The last alien frigate has been renamed Death’s Redeption, and will be crewed by Sobani volunteers. There is a faction in Fleet Intelligence that wants this ship torn apart for its components as well, and that using one of the ships that helped destroy Kharak is an abomination. I can understand the sentiment, but our situation is critical. We do not sufficiently understand this technology at this point to replicate it efficiently. For now, the Death’s Redemption will remain part of our forces. And much like the alien fighter we rebuilt, it may be of use in ambushing these aliens or in scouting out their position.

All ships have returned to the Mothership, and we are preparing to enter hyperspace. There is nothing left for us here. Kharak is no more. All we have left are bitter memories and “what if” scenarios. It is time to say goodbye to Kaali, to my parents… to the friends I left behind.

The Mothership will emerge at the edge of the Oort cloud, in a patch where astronomers believe harvestable asteroids are located. The waveform is engulfing the ship… we emerge from hyperspace in eight minutes.