#StarKnight: Book Two Updates

Another brief post.

The plot outline for Book Two is down to the details. Where it starts and ends is decided. The major points along the way are decided. Now it's taking notes on who is where, and what--in Executive Summary/High Concept format--happens at each point. I still have no clue about a title. Mechanical designs, heretofore not mentioned, are also coming along.

One new character being featured in Book Two is one implied by Reavers but not explicitly named: Count Robin, Gabriela's father. His role in the plot comes from his dissatisfaction with the performance of his cousin--Count Qis--to be his agent regarding Gabriela's security. In cutting off Qis from Gabriela, he's prevented Qis from easily tying up the loose end Gabriela is to him, but Count Robin doesn't know that detail yet. All he knows is that the silver-tongued courtier wrote a check with his mouth that his ass didn't cash, and Count Robin is not one to repeat his mistakes.

Qis also knows that the reason for this familial conflict comes from Lord Roland's report to him on the matter, an influence that had to include not only cutting him off from Gabriela, but to conceal her location from all but Robin and Roland due to concerns of retaliation by Red Eyes or his allies. Qis knows that Gabriela is the only witness to his treason; he has to get rid of her, and he can't kill her due to his deal with Azazel, or the entire jig is up. So his plan is to find her and get her out of the way; he has a Last Resort plan, which Count Robin forces him to use, to make this happen but the consequences of that action don't come until Book Three.

And Roland? He figured out that Gabriela has to be important to the mastermind behind Red Eyes's raid on New Edinburgh and Gabriela's abduction, but he doesn't know who that figure is, so he's using this vulnerability to attempt to flush out the identity of that figure. Part of Roland's aims in Book Two are to discover the mastermind's identity; once done, he's got the clout to push Qis's lord to cast him out and the Church to excommunicate him. (When you're one of the twelve greatest living heroes of Galactic Christendom, your name goes a long way.)

The Business: On To Book Two of #StarKnight

I'm working on the plot outline for Book Two. As Book One was out on the frontier, Book Two is at the heart of Galactic Christendom: Holy Terra (and the solar system).

This is less of a story about fleets and naval action, and more of an intrigue-focused adventure, because we're out to thwart an assassination this time out. The mastermind villain has a loose end to tie up, lest everything get undone, so the loose end needs to die so the plot can go on. Sir Ramsey figured that out, so that loose end is in a safe location; the trick now is to figure out who's trying to kill the secured individual.

Sir Ramsey shows his pro-active practice here, starting the plot with initiating a fake leak. He sends out a rumor, varies the substance several times as he tells several people, and then waits to see which version shows up in the gossip circles. Once he determines who's prone to leaking, he sets up a trap by announcing that the secured individual will appear to testify before the Court of Stars on the recent pirate matter.

The mastermind senses that this is a trap, but cannot afford to ignore the possibility, so a duel of wits begins. Less with the fleets and the giant mecha, more with the smaller mecha, single ships, and running beam sword fights across Rome, Mars, the Moon, and other notable locations.

Excerpt From "Reavers of the Void": A Suspect Sacrifice

This week's excerpt is from a chapter tenatively titled "Rhythm Emotion", and it occurs after Count Qis petitioned the Court of Stars to come to House Ireton's aide in enacting reprisal against Red Eyes while rescuing Countess Gabriela. If this is the Space Opera you want more of, then go here and back the campaign.

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Qis departed from Rome in a diplomatic skycar, flying North to the ancestral homeland of his family in Scandinavia. Landing in Oslo, Norway, he arrived at the family’s home on Earth. The servants welcomed him home. As the footman took his cloak, he addressed the majordomo. “All is as I specified, Robert?”

Robert, an old family retainer, smiled and nodded. “Your meal shall be delivered to your office presently, my lord.” Qis smiled and put a gloved hand on the old man. “Your timing remains impeccable. As soon as I am finished, I am not to be disturbed until I say otherwise.”

“Very good, my lord.” Robert said, and Qis took leave of him and the others. He walked up the stairs and into the secure wing of the house, where he kept his office on Earth, and as he entered the chambers he saw a boy about Creton’s age next to a delivery cart arranging his meal. Qis kept quiet, watching the boy a moment execute his duty, making note of the lad’s eagerness to ensure he did exactly as told. Only when the boy turned around to leave did he notice Qis standing there.

“My lord!” he said, quickly bowing as expected of a child of his station, “Your meal is ready.”

Qis smirked at him. “I see. Hold a moment, lad.”

Qis took his seat at the table prepared. He looked over the food and drink arrayed, a modest plate of fresh fruit next to a warm sandwich, a bowl of soup, and a cup of tea. He then waived the boy over.

“You’re far too nervous, my boy, and such nerves ruins a lad’s character quickly.” Qis said as he handed the boy the cup, “By my permission, have some tea. It will calm you.”

The boy bowed and took the cup. “Thank you, my lord.” he said, and took a long sip. The boy handed the cup back, and a moment passed.

“Better?” Qis looked on, as if expecting something.

The boy’s eyes went wide in surprise, and his chested seized up. Then he collapsed, looking upon Qis with an arm outstretched. Qis took it, and went down on one knee.

“I will punish those who did this, my boy.” Qis said as the boy shook, “Your death is not in vain.”

Moments later, the serving boy went limp and Qis keyed into the comlink. “Robert, another attempted averted. Arrange for the boy’s funeral. Pay out from the household budget.”

“Do we have a suspect, my lord?”

“There will be soon enough, Robert. I shall test the rest presently, just in case. For now, brew some coffee and bring it up. It’s going to be a long night.”

“Very good, my lord.”

Qis looked into the eyes of the murdered innocent serving boy. “You are one more sacrifice I make for what Mankind requires: the unity of a King of Kings, all speaking the same tongue that speaks the same creed- the creed of Babylon.”

Excerpt From "Reavers of the Void": An Unconvincing Argument

What follows is an excerpt from Chapter Two, "Just Communication", and it is shortly after Lord Roland and Countess Robin meet. If you like what you see here, head over to Indiegogo and pledge your support.

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Ramsey escorted Gabriela into the Grand Hall, her entourage following behind them. Duchess Ireton called Gabreila over.

“Countess,” Duchess Ireton smiled at her, “everything will be ready for your performance after dinner tonight.”

“My company and I are grateful for your hospitality, Your Grace.” Gabriela said with a curtsy.

Duchess Ireton turned to Ramsey. “Will my noble lord be her escort tonight?”

“Of course!” Gabreila said, “He came all the way from Earth just to see to my security. How more able can a fighting man be than to be beside the lady he is to protect?”

Ramsey bowed. “My lady believes she will perform at her best if she feels secure by my presence.”

“And Count Qis has no objection?”

Gabriela again spoke quickly. “If so, he has not spoken of it, and since unspoken is undone then there is none.”

“Well, then, I shall leave this place to see to the feast’s final preparations before evening prayers. Until then.”

“Until then.” Gabriela curtsied again as the Duchess left.

“Until then.” Ramsey said, bowing, and he turned to Gabriela, “My lady is too eager to speak when it favors her.”

“My lord, you truly think that I am the target of a pirate raid? Here? Even if this is a frontier world, it is still the seat of the Dire March. Our hosts are not fools who use their men at arms as players’ props. Even if such a raid were to come, what it would take to reach this castle—much less take this prize—is beyond the reckoning of the most fevered authors’ imaginations.”

“That, my lady, are the famous last words of many who would ends their lives in thrall to some tyrant- or worse. Read less of those fevered authors and more of those revered chroniclers. Truth is far stranger than fiction, for fiction follows the form that men will find soothing, while truth takes whatever form Our Heavenly Lord commands of it, and the truth is that such raids have happened before—many times over the many years of Man’s existence—and to steal away a desired woman is the reason most before now have happened at all. Why would you not take this seriously?”

“Because, most noble lord, there is no pirate able to do such a deed. Even if he was mad for desire of me, he would surely perish for trying.”

Ramsey pulled a palm-sized projector from a pocket. He projected an image of Duke Kawamori. “This is from the Court of Stars, just before Christmas.”

“The fact that the Red Eyes pirates are now manufacturing mecha of their own design, and in massive numbers, means that the size of the pirate group is far larger than we previously believed. They possess an industrial capacity, and that means both a warfighting logistical network- both of men and material. My noble lords, this is no mere cunning company of cutthroats. This is a hostile alien empire, and we underestimate what Red Eyes can do at our peril.”

Ramsey put away the projector. “We do not know the details of what Red Eyes can do. We know only that they can reach farther, and with greater strength, than any other pirate band today. We’ve seen nothing like it for nearly a century, and we have reason to believe that you—specifically—are central to Red Eyes’ ambitions. Why is not known, yet, only that when he comes for you is a matter of time.”

“You would do what with me then?”

“Secure you far from his reach. You can play to your adoring fans remotely, and if you persist in this girlish defiance I need only make one call do just that.”

Gabriela felt an anger swell up inside her, and she fixed her eyes upon him to let loose that anger, but found his face a stone wall of duty and her glare soon faded as the flash of furious feeling fell away from her. Only then did she notice his hand upon her cheek, lifting her eyes back up to his.

“Go to Chapel and say your prayers, my lady. Pour your passion into your performance, and pray for serenity tonight instead of excitement. Tomorrow, you’re going to Earth, and thereafter you stay until your noble father comes to collect you.”

Excerpt From "Reavers of the Void": Come, Durendal!

Author's Note: What you are about to read is from a Work In Progress. The final version may be different, significantly different, from this draft excerpt. This is taken from a chapter tentatively titled "The Taking of Gabriela Robin", at the climax of Part One of the book. If you want to see this finished, and get more like it, back the Indiegogo campaign here. As of this post, we're 83% of the way towards the initial goal of $1000, so your support now is likely to ensure this project happens.

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Ramsey ran out of the Grand Hall, down a corridor and out into a pathway that lead to a stairway up the curtain wall. He paused to see the Ireton Gallowglass mecha struggling against the unknown mecha that launched from Dashing Jack’s battleship- itself clearing the skies of Ireton fighters and holding descending cruisers at bay with its guns and missiles. Sweeping across the spaceport below was the tall manlike model, moving with aplomb among the buildings on the surface. It looks like a statue in the image of an armored warrior of antiquity.

Ramsey backed up a space, drew a baton from its boot sheathe, then turned about and ran for the wall’s edge. He jumped over the edge, took the baton in both hands, and bellowed “Roland, draw your sword!”

The baton separated in the middle, as if held together by magnetism. Ramsey held each half as if were a joystick controller. From those halves golden lights appeared and drew into place about him a giant-sized armored frame. Then each core subsystem in turn drew into place, followed by the cockpit interior, and finally the lights filled the frame-drawing in. It became a solid manlike mecha, shaped as a living suit of full plate armor, gleaming royal blue and trimmed in gold, bearing the crest of Roland on its chest, and standing 12 meters tall. The cockpit within lit up, giving Ramsey a 360 degree view about him as the unit’s legs kicked forward to fire the thrusters in its feet while the thrusters in its back synced to fire with them. Ramsey landed with a resounding thud, but he landed on both feet and ready for action.

“Behold!” Ramsey yelled, “Durendal has arrived!”

The Gallowglass units within range of his voice, boosted by the speakers in Durendal’s head, took heart at Ramsey’s appearance. “We’re saved!” one pilot said, “The Solar Guard stands with us!”

Zuzu cracked a wicked grin within the cockpit of Anakim. “There you are!” she said, and she turned her mecha to face Ramsey. “I can stop playing with these fools now.”

Ramsey looked on as he saw Anakim level a long rifle at him. Reading the mech’s movements as if he would a living man, Ramsey ran behind an empty mech hangar just as Zuzu fired upon him. He quickly shifted direction once he passed the hangar doors, ducking out of sight, as the follow-up shots drew closer and closer to him.

As he drew his battle rifle, Ramsey noticed the lack of ordinance meant to flush him out of the hangar. He lurched forward and rolled away from the corner he took, taking a hunch as to his enemy’s intention, and when he saw the long rifle’s barrel break through the wall he got Durendal to its feet and returned fire. Then he aimed up and fired through the hangar roof, where he heard something explode.

“Got one of the smaller ones, my lord!” a Gallowglass pilot said, “But their leader’s moving to flank you again.”

“My thanks.” Ramsey said, intuiting where Zuzu moved and firing another shot that way.

Zuzu hustled around the hangar, trying to out-think her target, only to find him shooting from within the hangar at her as she brought the long rifle up to fire. She reflexively threw the rifle in the way, blasting it in half. She discarded the ruined rifle, tossing it aside, in the few moments she had before it exploded and unintentionally destroying the spaceport’s barracks. More rifle fire came from within the hangar, blowing holes in the wall and forcing Zuzu to dodge. She found a half-wrecked truck, dashed behind it as Ramsey blind-fired at her, picked up the flaming wreckage and then ran for the hangar.

“We bring the pain to you!” Zuzu cried as she crashed through the wall. Ramsey shifted Durendal's feet, stepping out of the line of attack, and fired upon the wreckage. The shot blew a hole through what substance remained, making the rest fall apart in Anakim’s hands. Ramsey fired again, but Zuzu dodged it and pulled a lance from Anakim’s back. The end ignited, and Ramsey jumped away through the roof to get clear as Zuzu went on the attack. As he descended, he put the rifle away; he thought Zuzu would immediately pursue with a charge.

Zuzu did not disappoint. Ramsey drew his beam sword and met Zuzu’s charge with a forceful parry. He spun to one side, off the lance’s line, and tried to get inside Zuzu’s reach- but she did not allow it, reversing the spin to catch Ramsey open with a kick, a kick she delivered and sent Ramsey spiraling through another building as he hurried to reclaim his balance.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught Zuzu launching Anakim into the air to attempt a Death From Above attack with her beam lance. He got Durendal’s feet right and launched into the attack, coming just off her line sweeping up with his beam sword.

Zuzu tried to correct her descent, but didn’t have enough time. All she could do was watch as Ramsey scored Anakim’s breastplate with the tip of his beam sword and then cut her lance in half- but better that then loose an arm or get sliced lengthwise through her cockpit. Now having reversed the attack, Ramsey turned to descend upon Zuzu, only to find her already moving out of the way and igniting a beam sword of her own.

“Zuzu, stop playing with him!” Gori said as he appeared in a window on her viewscreen, “Move to back up Jack in the castle.”

At the same time, Ramsey saw Sibley pop up in a side window. “My lord, Jack’s here with us! We need your arm!”

“Roland to Ireton militia. Report!”

“We’re holding here, my lord. The enemy’s air support thins, and our ships are coming to our aide.”

Ramsey now fixed his eyes upon Anakim. “I see what your game is.”

Then Ramsey saw Zuzu break off and go to the castle.

The Apocalypse, the Church, and the City of God

While the arguable Point of Divergence for this setting is well into ancient history, the hard break is already past us in the real world: December 21st, 2012.

That is the day that the cataclysm known as "The Coming of the Azure Flames" began. It was the culmination of a secret war between three conspiracies whose conflict actually ensured the very event they all feared.

The three parties were the resurgent Fallen Angels, released from their prisons starting in the 19th century. They assumed control of an extant pro-Satanic network and set it to the task of bringing their former empire of Babylon back from the ruins of a past now considered mythology. Part of that included the resurrection of their children, the Nephilim. The Angels turned the network into a two-part entity, an outer group of self-interested globalists and an inner group of themselves and the cultists who serve them. Opposing them are a handful of faithful men trying to save Civilization.

All of them failed.

The reason is that the plot for 2012 was a global-scale mass human sacrifice, concealed as a coordiated terror attack upon the ten most populated cities in the world via nuclear weapons. The energy released by such a sacrifice was intended to fuel a ritual work of sorcery whose aim was to shatter the remaining bonds keeping the greatest demons and angels bound, thus making complete the needed elements for a Second Babylon. Most of them were in sacred sites doing the ritual work when the bombs went off.

The globalists thought that this was a covert operation to take out key rivals in the world by crippling them as well as creating pretexts for invasion and occupation. They wanted World War 3, and didn't care about the billions incinerated in an instant that had to happen to make that goal real. They hid in many bunkers and other secured locations when the bombs went off.

Their shared enemies, at this point, had been reduced to a handful of men scattered throughout the world- and only one of them was not convalescing. They had been shattered, and the one able-bodied man left quietly went to Jerusalem to pray for God to intervene.

He did.

The fires were not the judgement. The release of Legion was the judgement. When the Nephilim realized what happened, they panicked and fled to the secured bunkers- abandoning the cultists to their fate. The Angels followed suit, seeing what was undone and how; the few that could remain on Earth did so, while the rest fled the planet entirely and took along with them many subject peoples, settling as close as they dared to prepare for a counter-attack when the wave of annihilation subsided.

Civilization all but perished, as did Mankind. Many nations went extinct over the three days that the Flames burned the world, and then the slain--possessed by Legion--arose as the demon's collective body to consume those that remained. Yoked to the demon's will, the slain and the damned served the fiend if they did not want to cease to exist at all.

While the Angels and Nephilim arose as false saviors, a true one did exist quietly. The Church survived, but not by any obvious evidence on Earth; Rome had its undead problems just like everywhere else. No, the Church survived because the fruits of a research problem begun in the 1970s, and breaking through in the 1980s, went live in 2010 and within that project the nucleus of the Church emerged to begin the long work of reclaiming Man from despair and Creation from the Enemy. This was the City of God.

Taking its name from the philosophical work of the same name, it was a place without a space, where wonders first manifested and their teachings first mastered. Taking inspiration from past episodes and previous tales, they did not come forth as the believed City at first; they came forth as individual men, spreading hope and showing the enduring nations that they can smite the Enemy and build themselves back from the ruins they fell into- all they needed was to return to the faith of their fathers, and freedom could be theirs once more.

In time, after generations, Legion once more fell and returned to the living death he formerly suffered. The undead wave he spawned subsided. The Angels and Nephilim that survived then turned to warring with each other. These were the Wars of the Damned, which would fuel the return of the Church as the nations rose up once more, unifying Mankind while allowing each nation to remain separate and distinct- a House unto itself, but a House in a neighborhood of the nations of Man.

As the age turned, and the cleansing of the Enemy from Earth--and then from the solar system--spread the Church remains the fatherly institution to guide Man to wisdom time and again. The City of God remained the core all this time, ensuring that no entryism took root and no heresy found fertile soil, and to this day none by those allowed within its sacred sanctums knows the secrets that grant the City its power or the depths of the wisdom and knowledge preserved therein. For most, they know only that the City is responsible for the creation of Faster Than Light travel, Super Robots, and other wondrous technologies that make Galactic Christendom possible.

The Enemy has come to realize the importance of the City. It is now a race to see if the City can attain true security before the Enemy finds a way to seize it for himself, and some suspect that the Enemy is closer than they would like to believe in doing that.

The Planets of Galactic Christendom

Mankind is now a mature inter-stellsr species. Its many nations are spread out across the galaxy, dwelling on many planets, and in populations that make the pre-Apocalypse world before the Azure Flames blanch. Mankind now teems in number, totally into the trillions, with many planets boasting populations well above that of early 21st century Earth. Much of this is due to the influence of the Church, and the advent of Faster Than Light technology, the coupling of which gave great impetus (in addition to a literal Crusade against the Nephalim) to spread far from holy Terra.

The initial settlement waves focused on Earth-like worlds. As terraforming technologies and acumen developed, more worlds saw settlement; the last wave coming with the ability to change the gravitation force of a planet to conform to Earth standard gravity, a power still monopolized by the Church as it required the direct deployment from the City of God. Now only the most inhospitable of planets remain free of Mankind's presence, assuming that it has been found at all.

Planetary settlement starts and ends in orbit. The pattern is summarized thus: build an orbital habitat, which is the top anchor of a space elevator to the surface. The groundside anchor is the first planetside settlement, and others branch out from that one to fulfill specific requirements. Over time, additional elevator nodes are built to allow speedy ground-to-orbit connections across a world. (Earth has one at each LaGrange point.)

Heavy industry is an orbital affair, taking advantage of microgravity conditions to maximize productivity while preserving the planetary environment. Refineries, factories, shipyards, and more such industry is routinely kept in orbit- and also automated heavily. Planetside work is more artisan or agricultural in nature, with automation usually confined to drudgery, in accordance to the Church's push for restoring Mankind to a pro-Civilizational mode of existence post-Apocalypse.

Urban planning and density, to pre-Apocalypse eyes, is pre-Modern in sensibilities; far less steel, iron, and chrome and far more stone, wood, and glass. Older, classical styles turned out to be easier to use in forming and maintaining planetside colonies than the writers and theories of the World Before would think. Commerce tends to be more local, though inter-planetary and inter-stellar trade exists in significant amounts across galactic distances. Aside from the obvious high technology, it's a world a man like Plato or Petrarch would not find too alien - but those just at the cusp of the Apocalypse would in many respects. (Think "Pre-Modern Life with Starships and Mecha", or less Coruscant and more Theed.)

Most people, once more, living in rural communities on more-or-less self-sufficient homesteads centered around the local parish and the local manor. Even the orbital habitats follow this pattern as best they can, recreating the village life in space even if the men of that village work in the habitat's docks or factories. Furthermore, mature planets have scores of orbital habitats clustered about that world's LaGrange points.

The less-developed worlds are marked by a lack of the orbit-to-surface connections, usually meaning more shuttle traffic to and from as well as the presence of more trans-atmospheric starship traffic to compensate for that lack. Garmil's Gate is one such world, and this lacking is why some disdain it.

Next time: The Apocalypse, the Church, and the City of God.

Meet The Knight-Errant: Sir Ramsey Hennepin

The first serial I'm going to publish here next year is something of a shakedown cruise for me. These stories will focus around the adventures of a Knight of the Solar Guard, Sir Ramsey Hennepin, as he plays the role of trouble-shooter for the Court of Stars. The cruise will lay the groundwork for bigger stories, allowing Sir Ramsey's adventures to also introduce characters, concepts, and conflicts that get proper focus down the road.

Sir Ramsey runs around the galaxy in a personal starship (the S.S. Baden-Powell, a Longboat-class scout ship, commissioned by the Church for the Solar Guard from the Terran Shipwrights' Guild on Earth) acting as a mobile base of operations for himself and his lance: Sibley, his sergeant-at-arms; and Creton, Sibley's son who acts as Ramsey's page.

Most of Ramsey's missions require him to act independently, wholly or as a detached component of a larger unit. He's earned this status through years of valorous, distinguished service- first as a squire, then as a knight in his own right. He begins this cruise without a squire, as he recently knighted his last one and Creton's getting into the age where a boy serving as a page begins being groomed for life as a squire. This puts Ramsey at about 30 years of age, and as-yet still a bachelor (normal for Solar Guard knights), so he's in his prime.

With his beam sword always at hand, Sir Ramsey cuts a dashing, romantic figure- especially when in action. Be it at the stick of the Baden-Powell as it swoops into the fray, fighting pirates man-to-man to rescue hostages with sword and blaster, chasing heretics conspiring to bring forth infernal fiends, or courtly manners with local nobles while inquiring into issues that brought him hence, Ramsey's a Man of Action that is more at home sailing the Sea of Stars than at his estate in the central North American lake country on Earth.

When the enemies of Mankind see Ramsey's brilliant sun-yellow beam sword, they know they face the wrath of someone greater than the local nobleman and his men-at-arms- and that's before considering what he has available to him when truly extreme situations arise. I have one story already in outline, and will begin writing it before the year is up; I hope you enjoy reading it as much I do writing.

Making the Setting: The Church & the Solar Guard

The far future setting has the vast galaxy divided into holdings by noble families, organized into Houses, due to a combination of a significant time without Faster-Than-Light travel sufficiently speedy to enable the sort of casual travel common people enjoy today on Earth and a similar lack of tele-communications technologies that allow vastly-distributed populations to interact as if living together. It is during this time that the Church returned to prominence as an institution, deliberately moving itself into the central Axis Mundi, filling the conceptual and political space usually taken by secular hegemons, again- successfully, this time.

The Church owns the entire solar system where Earth--still center of Christendom--and rules it directly, a deliberate revival and upscaling of the old Papal States. Possessed of all the Church's archives, the lessons of past mistakes get avoided by the Papacy of the post-Apocalyptic era, allowing for new ones to occur instead.

With an upscaling of the Papal States comes an upscaling of the Swiss Guard. In addition to the deliberate revival and reinvigoration of the old military orders, the Swiss Guard also came into the new age with a revitalization on their core purpose of protecting the Papacy and acting as the Vatican's armed guard. The Guard became the Solar Guard as the Church expanded into space and assumed ownership of the system, with additional duties including supervision of the military orders. As the years wore on, practices that began as pragmatic necessities became political policies, such as the shunning of noble-born recruits in favor of common-born and the right to claim orphans as wards of the Church.

Today, well into the future, the Solar Guard represents the Church, the Pope, and the Court of Stars. While not a monastic order as such, its long association with the monastic orders (military and otherwise) as well as the Church in general means that certain norms of military life in noble houses are believed--but not required by Church law or Guard regulation--to be for retirement, such as marriage and family life. Instead, the Guard is regarded as a fraternal military order of Knights-Errant; a life of military service directly to all Mankind via the Church, and a knighthood to go with it, but to wait until one's adventuring days close to enjoy the joy of family life- thinking that any foes of a Knight of the Guard are long rendered moot by then, and so avoiding the vulnerability that a heroic knight has in love and fatherhood.

This is a long-standing dispute within the Guard and the wider Church, citing both examples both historical and mythical in the arguments that fly back and forth--yes, including Star Wars--to no decisive conclusion as yet. As our story cycle opens, one such senior Knight of the Guard (Sir Ramsey Hennepin) travels on dispatch from the Court of Stars in Rome on Earth to the distant world of Gamil's Gate due to the depredations of Red Eyes and his pirate fleet, where the dispute (and other issues) will seem so far away.

Behind the Scenes: More Practical Worldbuilding

My Space Opera setting has Space Feudalism. While the real thing tends to be messing, complex, and organic I'm keeping it simple because I need only enough for my creative works. In short, it works like this:

• This is our galaxy far into the future, where Mankind long ago became a mature star-faring species and thus is omnipresent in the galaxy.
• During this time, the successors to today's powers on Earth decided to Get Off This Rock after fighting a series of wars that almost wiped out Mankind several times. Not all of them were Man-on-Man either; other entities were involved, which had the consequence of revitalizing the Church and becoming the unifying force keeping Mankind from extinction.
• Nationalist movements today become national powers in the future, and how huge swaths of space are dominated by a single nation. As communications technology improved, internal tensions between houses within a nation increased until one house became the dominant one; the wiser dominators made allies of enemies, leading to feudalism's resurgence.
• The Church aided this resurgence, as a peace-improving measure, and made Rome on Earth into the host for the galactic nations to meet and dispute loudly--but peacefully--in the forum dubbed "The Court of Stars".
• By treaty, no house is acknowledged as Emperor. The position of "Speaker" is chosen by the electors, which are the Dukes of each nation (or their chosen agents, acting on the Duke's behalf), and is mostly ceremonial and parliamentarian in nature. The process is a deliberate blend of the models used for selecting the Pope and the Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire.
• "Duke" is the title (with attendant forms of address) used with outsiders for diplomatic reasons. Internally, a Duke may also be a King or Prince- but never a lesser title. The practice is meant to preserve face for nations particularly concerned with how prestige influences politics and culture; it gives all concerned a way out of otherwise inevitable conflict.
• The Church, learning from centuries of experience, recruits clergy only from the sons of common households across the galaxy; noblemen and their retainers are not permitted to be more than Deacons, and its militant orders are also closed to those of the noble houses. The current pope, Justinian XXV, is a shipwright's eighth son.
• A Duke controls the dominant house of his nation, with it the sector of space his nation controls. Counts control entire systems. Barons entire planets. Landed lords control significant subsets of a planet's mass. As with their historical counterparts, nobles are not only expected to be competent soldiers and warriors themselves, but also be capable of raising and fielding significant forces as required. The Dukes maintain standing militaries for this purpose, with nobility routinely comprising the professional officer corps.
• The houses have autonomy over internal affairs, aside from where the Church exercises its dominion. This is a Christian galaxy, but one where all of the nations of Mankind strong enough to survive the dark times of the Age of Azure Flames stand proud in their own ways.
• Inhuman threats exist, material and spiritual alike. The greatest is still out there.

This is how you can fork something and make it your own. I'm very much going with the emphasis on the fantastic that George Lucas drew upon for Star Wars, only more concrete. What's above is meant to focus my attention on what sorts of stories I want to tell here, and where to place the emphasis of attention. This isn't a setting where Space Submarines face off without ever seeing each other, letting computers do all the heavy lifting. This isn't a place where hopeless masses get drafted by the billions to die screaming in desperate crusades against inevitable foes hoping to buy another day for a false messiah to return. This is a setting where faith matters, hope is vital, fidelity is rewarded, and even the lowest-born can change the course of the galaxy merely by being the utmost example of his kind. Princess love their princes. Princes risk life and limb for faith and family, and the common folk follow the noble examples.

And there is NO modern architecture, aside from where the villains dwell. Less Coruscant, More Naboo.

I look forward to bringing it to life and sharing with you all.

In Development: My Love Letter to Mecha & Mythology

Come, witness the ways a writer gets to creating.

I love giant robots. That means I love my mecha anime, and while I got into Super Robot Wars V I began digging into the series mashed up in that game. The Mazinger series got my attention due to their blending of Ancient Aliens with Super Robot tropes, and the excellent blend of that series with Getter Robo got my attention.

I've run around Crazytown for years now. Ancient Aliens, Art Bell, David Icke, etc. are my jam. So, when some of my pals got into Attack on Titan, I--spoiler junky that I am--hit up the wiki and read deep into the lore. That manga, and I presume the anime in time, will reveal the severe conspiratorial element holding up the plot.

So I got to thinking, especially after seeing how well the Titans of the aforementioned comic and series correspond to the Nephilim of Christian mythology and its pagan counterparts worldwide. (Man-eating giants are common mythological elements.) We already had the Godzilla films and Pacific Rim do Giant Robots vs. Giants, and there's plenty of stories about smaller robots and powered armor versus monsters, but if it's well-known it's either old or Japanese (with a few exceptions).

So I got out the metaphorical blender and threw my ingredients together.

I'm still adjusting the results to suit; I want a thrilling and entertaining story first and foremost, so adjustments for that sake are ongoing, but I have a clear plan following a proven pattern. Initially you're looking as something that wouldn't be out of line for an X Files episode, and if I can get favorable comparisons to Bio-Booster Armor Guyver then I know I'm hitting the mark. Each escalation is a defacto genre shift, eventually going full Super Robot.

And no, none of this blackpill despair porn. (Looking at you, Evangelion.) I know my sources, and I know how those end. There will be a future for the loyal, for the faithful, for those that never give up and never give in, but you've got to grit those teeth to get it.

Getting Back Into the Review Game

I won a book from a giveaway done by Military History Now done via their Twitter account, and that book--Fort Enterprize, by Kevin Emmet Foley--arrived today.

I mention this because I will read this book, and then write a review of it. It will appear here first, and then I'll summarize it for the book's Amazon listing. The full review will have a section aimed at writers, talking about craft.

Many years ago, I wrote reviews for stuff at RPGNet. That was where I began my writing habit, and man those reviews such balls; I had no idea what I was doing, so I made it all up as I went. 10,000 pots, folks. The early pots will always blow harder than a black hole; just accept that and move on. The same goes with blogging and stories and every other form of writing; you're going to suck early on, so just do it and improve as you go.

Reacquainting yourself with a skill you set aside will go much faster. It's been a while since I wrote a review, so there's some rust to grind off, but it'll come back soon enough and then you're back in the game again. It'll be done when it's done; I have more pressing matters right now, but soon those will end and my schedule opens up. Soon.

Work In Progress: The Sword & Planet Story

I'm still chipping away at this Lost Colony Sword & Planet story. Following my own advice, I've decided that parts of the story that won't make it into the final manuscript will be posted here. Furthermore, I will do this for every story I write going forward. These will be scenes, fragments, notes, and other "behind the scenes" material that will get posted here as it gets chopped from the manuscript.

And so, here's one:

Four men sat in the cockpit of the cruiser Gale Wolf

"Your Grace, we've arrived." the pilot said, and the co-pilot brought the ship out of hyperspace and before them lay a vast asteroid field.

An old man, his hair tied into a top-knot and his beard fully gray, turned to the younger man beside him. "Direct us to your master, scout."

"Comms." the young man said, "Send: 'Pell With Guests'."

The pilot looked at the older man, who nodded. Moments later, a response: "Hold position, Gale Wolf. We'll escort you in."

The old man turned to the pilot. "Acknowledge, Captain." he said, and the pilot did as his master bade him. The ship held in place, watching two contacts from within the field appear on their scopes. They were Hornet-class fighters, giving pause to three of the four men.

"They dare not attack." the co-pilot said, "Not that the war is over."

"Unthinkable." the scout said, and the old man followed that thought: "Our guest's master young, but yet honorable, as was his father. Such treachery is foolish, and he knows it."

"I mean no offense, Your Grace." the co-pilot said, and the old man smiled. "None taken, not with all this treachery since the war's end."

The fighters closed and called the cruiser: "Gale Wolf, stay within visual range."

The old man nodded. "Acknowledged." the captain said, and the cruiser kept close to their escorts through the asteroid field. Despite being significantly larger than the fighters, the ship navigated the field deftly and after a while they saw the place that they came for: Pell's Cottage.

"This was your discovery?" the old man said to the scout, and the scout smiled. "Yes."

The "cottage" was a massive asteroid over a mile in diameter, dug into and transformed into a well-concealed outpost with significant--but not full--spaceport facilities. As they approached, the main hanger--easily large enough for several cruisers or frigates--rolled into view. The cruiser rotated on its axis as it banked inside to land and dock, while the escorting pair of fighters broke off to resume their patrol.

"Impressive." the old man said, "Several lanes are within a short jump from here, and there's a gas giant a short realspace run from here. No wonder we had such a problem with privateers. Well done."

The ship shuddered as its drives powered down, letting the mass settle on the landing gears. The old man and the scout got up and left the cockpit, making their way through the passenger lounge and took the lift outside. There awaiting them stood a young man in the full dress uniform of the now-defeated League of Independent Worlds. Behind him stood a honor guard of the man's homeworld militia, the Radu Guard.

"Welcome Sir Narrada Gahm, Duke Far, Emissary of the Court of the Stars." the man said, and he clasped his hand over his breast in the formal salute of his house.

"We thank you for your hospitality, Senator Radu." Duke Far said, bowing slightly as is his house's custom, "Your man, Lacann Pell, did well in his duty. He is to be commended."

"Come, Your Grace. We have much to discuss regarding our common enemy, and not much time."

"Agreed." Duke Far walked forward to go beside his host, and Lacann walked a step behind them both, heading into the interior of Pell's Cottage.

So, why did I decide to cut this this?

The story is about Lacann's mission to the planet. This? This I wrote so I could start getting into Lacann's head, setting up his stakes and the circumstances he's in; this story is about him--he's the Protagonist--so I did this to get to know him and get a sense for his character. There's more to this (it leads up to him setting sail for the planet, arrival, and subsequent crashing thereupon), but it's not interesting given what I'm out to do. It's like watching the scenes of Luke Skywalker before he leaves Tattoine; you want just enough to establish him as a character, but more than that becomes counter-productive, and I don't like slow starts to stories.

The important parts--why he's there, and who he's doing it for--gets told to the man Lacann meets with on that planet who becomes his ally against a common enemy. This? This is exploratory writing, which helps me get to the end goal but won't be a part of that final product; that's why it got cut and therefore why it's here. Usual "work in progress" disclaimers apply.

Looking Ahead to the 2017 Publishing Game

The publishing game changed a lot over the past year. The old certainties are no more. The new possibilities are still making themselves known to most people, but I think we're reaching a critical mass of adoption for both writers and readers and next year will be when the jump off hits and there is no going back.

I intend to be ready. Shit I've sat on this year (for one reason or another) I want done and out, now that things I've been missing got found and put into place, and that means that when the manuscripts are ready I'll be looking for help on things I can't do myself (covers in particular) as I'm able to keep my head above water.

But right now it's Christmas. I'm going to enjoy the season, and then New Year's, and once the holidays are over and 2017 is here then it'll be time for putting plans into action.

(World Building) The Necromancer

The Necromancer is the first of the big players to arise in the wake of the Azure Flames. Like all of the others, he is a consequence of the pre-cataclysm conspiracies to establish a global tyranny. Unlike them, he is a consequence in the most literal sense: he had no ties to either of the conspiracies, and instead arose because of the effects of their failure.

The Necromancer was a ghetto kid, son of a waste of a mother and abandoned before birth by his father, and kept in check only so much as it kept his mother in the good graces of the authorities. He got shot when a firefight between street gangs broke out over a particular corner of the drug trade, and the gang-bangers (being notoriously incompetent shooters) cared not where their fire went. As he got rushed to the hospital, the cataclysm began; he was abandoned at the operating table, dismissed as a worthless punk kid better off dead, and left to die.

As he died, Christopher Walken appeared to him. Only it wasn't Walken, but someone appearing as Walken did in The Prophecy, calling himself an angel of God and offering the boy a chance for revenge- to make the world feel his pain, listen to his word, and obey his commands. The boy agreed, and the angel--who is Satan--gave the boy over to Legion.

Legion is the source of The Necromancer's power. He does not control the boy, as the boy is not dead and Satan forbade Legion controlling the living. Legion abides because his desires are being fulfilled, as he now controls billions of corpses, but chafes at being subject to a boy's borrowed authority (as he serves as Satan's anchor on Earth). Satan is the deniable Grand Vizier to The Necromancer, playing the boy like a fiddle as he knows the boy's psychology and pushes his buttons as a master pianist plays the keys.

The Necromancer has other henchmen at his disposal, which are the damned souls of the worst of Mankind allowed to take up the dead flesh at The Necromancer's disposal and walk the Earth once more to fulfill The Necromancer's will. Other damned souls are yoked to serve as immaterial shades, advising The Necromancer. All of these are withdrawn once Satan removes his support, albeit not at once, and their removal serves to track progress in the war against The Necromancer; until that support is withdrawn, they return time and again to menace the enemies of The Necromancer.

The Necromancer, billed as "Master of All Flesh", endures for as long as he does because he and Legion cooperate. They erect a worldwide Empire of the Dead, complete with ziggurats and sacrifices, following Satan's advice. However, Satan (being the Supreme Deceiver) ultimately betrays both his human and his demonic ally once their usefulness is at an end and he shifts his allegiance to the Empire of Man. Knowing his allies' weaknesses, Satan elevates the Empire and enables their conquest of The Necromancer; providing verifiable proof of The Necromancer's actions drives the Empire of Man's propaganda efforts that galvanize the people to support the Emperor. The Necromancer ends his life as it began: mortally wounded, on a table, and abandoned to die. The Emperor, at the final moment, recognizes that his enemy is truly at his end and gives him the mercy of a swift, painless death. The Necromancer then goes to Hell.

The final death of The Necromancer marks the end of the first phase of the world post-cataclysm, and the shift from surviving in a hostile ruined world to the rise into a recovered world filled with terrible purpose and horrific fury at that which ruined what came before.

The Big Ideas in My Works: The Solador Series

I'm using posts here to flesh out elements of my fictional world that won't gt a lot of attention in these manuscripts. A lot of the stories I'm writing tie together via the cataclysm that destroyed the old world and created this one, mostly through the common connection of the conspiracies behind that event.

The Solador books (currently) work around the idea in LeGuin's "Those Who Walk Away From Omelas", but what is forsaken is inverted: instead of a forgotten child left to suffer in darkness, the sacrifice is of a designated hero who is elevated to celebrity status (and dehumanized accordingly) and upon whom the community piles on their expectations at the prompting of the Solador leadership: The Exalted. This figure is meant to represent them to the Exalted, as go-between bridging the ordinary and the supernatural. Said leadership installs the hero, manipulates his rise and controls him with rewards given to such heroes in the mythology that these leaders deliberately copy. When the hero becomes too unstable to control, they orchestrate his fall and elevate his replacement to ensure that this control mechanism continues.

Of course, the protagonist is that hero. The deuteragonist is another pawn who figured it out and aims to put this scam to an end. The Antagonist is the leader of The Exalted: The Archmage. Other figures mentioned or featured include The Necromancer, the other Exalted (The Champion, The Devil, The Hierophant, and The Physician), and Master Bradley of The Hidden City. The hero's wife, children, and his dog Han are minor (but significant) players in this story.

The theme of the Big Idea (occulted schemes of control) continues in Solador's signature feature: "The Blessing of the Unconquered Sun". This is a full-body augmentation, centered around a gem implanted in the forehead. From this gem--the Soul Gem--comes a woad-like full-body tattoo made of gold and silver. The system exists to prevent one from being turned undead; the means is by incinerating the corpse as soon as life stops, in a manner that resembles a program's deresolution in the original Tron, leaving only ashes and dust behind. There is a secondary effect that the body's resilience is greatly improved, akin to wearing well-padded armor. Implications are addressed, and intended by the creator: The Archmage.

So: trauma-based mind control, active perception management, culture-level political manipulation, wars meant to be sustained to control internal population, occult powers used to set up and sustain a false religion, and what it takes to keep that going vs. how fragile it is if at all vulnerable. That's what's going on here, while writing about adventures involving undead hordes, fighting against terrible odds, treachery within, and the inevitable victory of Truth over Lies.

Exploratory Writing: Ken Gets A Warning

"Is the patient awake?"

Ken opened his eyes and turned his head to the door. "Yes, nurse, I am."

A smiling nurse, middle-aged, entered the room with a package in hand. "A man stopped by while you were asleep. He wanted to give this to you, but didn't want to disturb you."

"I didn't think that the hospital was in the habit of acting like a hotel." Ken let out a chuckle.

The nurse brought the plain-wrapped package to his bed and put it on the table. "Security found nothing out of line, so we held it at the desk for you. There's even a little gift card."

Ken marked the dimensions of the package: two inches tall, one foot across, six inches wide. Security here is incompetent. This package alone is a warning. I need to get out of here immediately. he thought, and then he opened the simple card:

Who knows what lurks in the hearts of men?

Ken saw nothing else on the card. The answer is the contents of this package. he figured.

"Lunch will be ready in an hour." the nurse said, "I'll be back then."

Ken waited for the nurse to leave, closing the door behind her. He looked about a moment, seeing no obvious cameras, before he carefully took apart the plain paper wrapping the package. Then he opened the cardboard box underneath, which revealed a very thin layer of film. Tearing that away revealed the contents: a brand new CZ 75 SP-01 Shadow, along with three full magazines and a concealed-carry holster. Attached, on a Post-It note, read: "They're coming. Get out, now! If you make it, get in touch." - SDL

"The Shadow knows!" indeed. Ken thought as he quickly put the kit together, Scrubs will do until I get out of here.

Ken swung himself out and on to his feet. He wobbled a bit, and then grabbed a sash from a robe to use as a baldrick. He looked into the mirror in the bathroom, saw that he looked like he'd been a blanket party guest of honor, and sighed. It will have to do. Holster at his chest, and a pouch on his hip to hold the spares, Ken was as ready as he could get.

Bring it. Ken thought as he drew the Shadow and racked the slide, I'm ready for Round 2.

Story Fragment: Hospital Bait-and-Switch

This post is a story fragment. It is not from anything in progress. It came to me while messing about late last night. I'm posting it here because I want to see what you folks think of it; put on your reader hats and hit the Comments section.

"He's coming around." the doctor said, "Stand ready."

Robert opened his eyes, slowly at first, as the light hit them as if he emerged into a bright Summer day at midday. As his vision adjusted, he saw the clear, bare walls about him and then a man and a pair of women in hospital garb. Then he saw something hooked to his hands.

"Where am I?"

"You're at St. Hennepin's Hospital, on the campus of the University of Minnesota, Your Grace."

The response struck him wrong, but not fast enough to change his reaction: "Hospital? That figures. Last I recall, my car went out of control when I got on the Interstate and threw me off the bridge. I couldn't get out of the car, or the river, before I blacked out."

Robert looked up, and he noticed the uniforms being out of place. The man--the doctor--had the fancy filigree on the collars and cuffs that he'd only seen in fiction. The nurses were far younger, and far more fit, than he remembered and in uniforms reminiscent of his grandmother's era.

"Doctor, is His Grace awake?" a man said, beyond Robert's sight.

Robert saw the doctor waive the man over, and he wore a different uniform. Fancy, formal, and far more paramilitary. None of the symbols were any he recognized, but the general appearance seemed to be that of a high-ranking official. The man approached him, snapped to attention, and drew his fist across his chest as a salute. "Your Grace, Major Holm of the Imperial Guard, reporting. His Imperial Majesty requests that you contact him at your earliest opportunity." Robert looked at the man, incredulous. "Your father worries."

Robert's thoughts scrambled to make sense of what he heard. Father? What? Oh, and that makes me a prince- prince of an empire. What in the hell is going on? But, for now, play cool.

"Major, your duty is fulfilled. Go inform my father that I live, and shall make contact presently. Dismissed."

Major Holm saluted, turned on his heels and made to go, but first turned to the doctor: "A word, if I may?"

The two men left Robert's sight, and soon his hearing. Meanwhile, the nurses moved closer. Seeing the ruse for what it was, Robert went along with it. "Nurse, how long was I unconscious?"

"Four years, Your Grace." the nurse said, smiling as if a schoolgirl got noticed by her elder classmate, "We got you into a stabilization tank immediately, as we're the only hospital in the province permitted to treat members of the Imperial family, and once an Imperial doctor arrived he got to work treating you. In the last few weeks you progressed enough to be removed from the tank and placed in this secure wing instead."

"Four years? Forgive me, but what year is it?"

"It is the 11th day of Spring, in the year 2770 of the Imperial Calendar, Your Grace."

Well, either I am dreaming or something worse has happened. I'll go with "worse", knowing my luck.

Administration: End of 2012

This is the last Friday for the year 2012. Time to take a moment out of the fiction and talk reality.

As of this year, I finally settled into a format that works for me. I will continue this format into 2013 and see if I can make it work for a full year. If, at this time next year, I find that it continues to serve me then I will stick with it until it doesn't.

Most of this year's stories took place in the waning years of the Old World, our world, and--as reality didn't see any sort of world-destroying event--the post-apocalyptic milieu created by the Azure Flames is safely considered an alternate future history. In 2013, I intend to return to the post-apocalypse side of that divide, and you shall see that new set of stories starting next week on Friday, January 5th.

Next year there shall be one story per quarter, going 12 weeks long, with a week left as a buffer to post what is necessary that quarter. That makes for four stories by the end of the year, and--as I will be finished with my Master's Degree work by next Summer--I will attempt to do something I've intended to do since I started this 'blog: collect, correct, curate and publish a volume of stories. If I can, I want to publish both in electronic and Print-On-Demand formats.

If I can't make that happen in 2013, then I will for certain in 2014. The traditional publishing world is no longer the default method for writers to become capable of making a living, or even a strong part-time supplementary income, and for those who prefer to be in the driver's seat (like me) making use of the new frontier of e-publishing is the way to go.

Expect a new story about post-apocalyptic Ken next year. Expect stories featuring, in some manner or another, stories about the folks I've posted about in the last five weeks. Expect me to continue to hone my craft, to get better, and to continue to write about that which interests and excites me. See you next year.

Coming 2011: The Promises We Keep

The first serial for 2011 is another Ken the Zombie Eating Mutant story, but it's not a story about post-apocalyptic Ken. It's a story about what Ken's life was before it all went up in the Azure Flames, and it's not going to be pretty. It's a first-person story written from his point of view, and in his voice. It is not going to be Happy Fun Time.

I hope that I do this one right.