The Business: The Collapse of OldPub By Convergence Is On Schedule

The leading Latino voice in Science Fiction, Jon del Arroz, has good news.

The numbers aren't lying, even if the Death Cultists do without a hint of shame.

They can't sell, so they cost the publishers money to publish them, and as that sweet SocJus venture capital isn't coming their way the results are plain to see: declining fortunes, followed by consolidation, and eventually the sole survivor will buckle under the weight of all this parasitic consumption of the institution and down it goes at last. We've already seen the Big Six become the Big Four, so it is happening and faster than some would expect.

Even Amazon--already afflicted--is noticing and that's why it isn't doing what it can to artificially boost these books; Amazon's margins are thin, and even with access to that ESG money it's too tight to go hard on cooking the books (hah), so the languishing is allowed to be seen by dissidents and competitors like Jon here. You can bet that publishers outside the Cult's control also see these numbers and enjoy some schadenfraude.

In short, we are winning, but we haven't won yet.

This is good news indeed, and it's time to step up support for our clean alternatives at home as well clean competitors abroad. The sooner we finish this fight, the sooner we can begin rebuilding a stronger successor.

Excerpt From "Reavers of the Void": Aces Face Off

This is it! This is the final day for the Indiegogo campaign, and so here's the final manuscript excerpt. This is from Part 3, during the Battle of Hell's Heart, which is the climax of the novel's story. If this gets you moving, go here and push the project over the line for the Stretch Goal.

---

Ramsey’s escape from Hell’s Heart quickly reached both sides. On MacBeth, Gabriela sighed with relief as she waited in Duke Ireton’s quarters. Sibley and Creton smiled at each other as they prepared to return to battle in Baden-Powell, and Ireton smiled at Captain Denten as he called for a rearrangement of the fleet’s battle line. On Revenge, Gori took a deep breath at this big change in the battle. Jack recognized the severity of the situation while fending off the four New Roman aces still out to get him, and Zuzu felt a sense of dread at the news.

“Gori!” Zuzu said, “I’m almost dry. I need to come in!”

“Get in if you can and make it fast.” Jack said, “You’re no good out here with just a sword.”

More missiles flew in from far away now, coming straight for the fortress. “They’re reorganizing their battle line.” Gori said, “Battleships, carriers, and heavy cruisers are standing off while their escorts are coming in to assist the mecha. They’re going for a partial englobement.”

“How many more carriers to go?” Jack said, slipping past the ace flight once more and dodging around a rock. Gori looked on the viewscreen. “Three sunk. Three away. That leaves four. We’re going to be pressed hard to hold this fleet back until everyone else is away.”

“We’ve got our ace in the hole.” Zuzu said, now approaching the ventral aft of Revenge as its hangar ramp extended, “He’s come out if it gets that bad.”

As Zuzu approached the battleship, Ramsey in Durendal marked the location of Anakim, Revenge, and Jack’s Black Knight in addition to the massive Goblin horde as well as Revenge’s Hobgoblin squadron. The remaining pirate escorts and carriers then got marked. Ramsey forwarded that data to Baden-Powell, which spread it to the rest of the allied fleet.

“Where’s that Solar Guardsman?” Jack said, finally getting one of those aces with a beam sword through the chest—and cockpit, and powerplant—and destroying it.

Zuzu, taking in some drinks while the technicians on Revenge’s flight deck hurry through rearming, “Gori?”

Gori looked at the viewscreen for a moment. “Oh no!”

Ramsey locked on to Jack’s Black Knight. “Coming to assist, New Romans.” He closed into range for his beam rifle, and quickly fell in for the fallen comrade, needing no time to adjust to the aces’ teamwork. Yet, having superior power, it became apparent to the three aces that Ramsey should take the lead and wordlessly let him assume the front position in their flight. “Skip the launchers!” Gori said, calling down to the bay, “Rockets and the long rifle. GO!”

Zuzu tossed her empties out and closed up the cockpit as the technicians strapped the rocket pods to Anakim’s legs. A few more attached spare magazines to Anakim’s hips, and Zuzu took the long rifle in hand as she again departed Revenge’s hangar.

“I’m on my way!”

“Good!” Jack said, dodging rifle fire from one direction while in hand-to-hand with another and Ramsey circling for another opening, “I’m also running low and need to fall back.”

Anakim’s thrusters went to full burn and rocketed Zuzu to Jack’s location. As she approached, she took aim with the long rifle and fired. One of the other Cataphracts flew behind a rock, but it wasn’t enough. The rifle’s slug penetrated the rock and lodged into the doomed pilot’s powerplant, causing to explode in a brilliant fireball.

“Stay on Black Knight!” Ramsey said, “I’ll take care of this one.”

Ramsey peeled off, beam rifle ready. Zuzu took aim with the rifle and fired, but Ramsey rolled away from the line of fire with aplomb. Zuzu countered by launching her pods at him, forcing Ramsey to shoot them down and giving Zuzu concealment for her next shot. Ramsey rolled away from that one also, and the next, until he got within range for his rifle. Zuzu swapped to Anakim’s beam rifle and the two began darting between rocks and wrecks, attempting to catch the other out of positions for a fatal shot.

Several rocks got blasted to pebbles, and several wrecks got blasted to pieces, as each scored near-hits that would have proven fatal had they come just a moment earlier or later than when they got under cover. Then Zuzu got an opening on Ramsey, but Ramsey rolled off the line and threw power into the thrusters to rush Zuzu; he swapped the rifle for the beam sword, and Zuzu had to toss her rifle away to get Anakim’s out to block in time.

“Not this time!” Ramsey said, grabbing Anakim’s main hand arm with his off-hand and shoving Anakim into a nearby rock. With his sword arm he reversed the blade and brought it down to thrust into Anakim’s neck. Zuzu saw the stroke coming and tried to block the stroke with her off-hand arm, but even with the beam sword’s blade going through that arm it was not enough. The beam burned through the off-hand forearm, through-and-through its armor and structure, and then pierced Anakim at the neck. Zuzu knew Anakim was now doomed and punched out.

“Damn you, Roland!” she yelled as she recovered her bearings. “I’m going in for our trump card. I’m tired of this.”

Ramsey didn’t hesitate to change targets once he saw Zuzu punch out. He grabbed the long rifle off Anakim’s back and took aim at Black Knight. “One shot left, but it’s all I need.”

Ramsey took aim, waited for the other two Cataphracts to get out of the line of fire, and then fired. Jack felt his mecha lurch with the impact, ripping through the back thrusters. That was enough. Unable to maneuver, Jack soon got overwhelmed and had his mecha’s limbs severed one-two, one-two. He took punched out, getting clear just before the New Roman aces finished Black Knight off.

“Withdraw to MacBeth.” Ramsey said to the New Roman aces, “You’ve gotten your revenge.”

“Almost. The battleship remains.”

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.

---

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.

Crisis at Garmil's Gate - 25

Dashing Jack and Sir Ramsey took aim at each other, while their wingmen broke off and engaged the enemy. Both men launched missiles at the other, forcing counter-missile fire using beam rifles, before they closed to gun range and began manuevering around each other in a dogfight. During this action, Sibley switched from mech to mech in his attempt to weave his way through the furball and sneak his way to the Revenge, and he ended up relying on his personal vernier backpack when he realized that he couldn't ride his way there.

To mask his presence, he stayed in an ironic position- squarely between the nearest point-defense batteries and the dogfighting mechs off the starboard bow. While risking life and limb flying down through a hail of blaster fire, against which his personal screen would--at best--let him take one stray shot, the veteran sergeant-at-arms kept cool knowing that so long as he kept inside the blind spots of the guns the odds of getting shot were slim.

Keeping an eye out for the old man was his son, Creton, at the controls of the Baden-Powell, doing his best to drive the gunners' attention away from Sibley when the dogfighting mechs couldn't hold it. Swift fly-bys, blasting the hull near the ship's sensor array, ensured that those point-defense guns that could otherwise have noticed the old man instead chased the scout ship in vain.

While the Maribu now accelerated, giving chase, and therefore kept up its barrage from its turrets the Revenge no longer had any line of sight to return fire. With its missiles depleted, it had no means to return fire either. Nonetheless, both Jack and the few wingmen left he had would not give up or retreat.

"You won't escape." Ramsey said, "I'll soon overwhelm your squadron, then you, and then your ship will be my prize."

The Maribu's guns again got closer with each barrage. Missiles launched upon the Revenge started to overwhelm the point-defense guns, striking near her engines.

"No, Paladin." Jack said as he ignited a beam sword and went to melee, "You and your ally are easily read."

Ramsey's wingmen from Gatewatch, while taking serious losses, now gained the upper hand and began sweeping away Jack's depleted squadron. Sibley now reached the dorsal hull of the Revenge, and with beam sword in hand began to look for a hatch.

"You think the situation is a simple piracy problem, Paladin. Now you shall see how wrong you are."

Hatches on the dorsal hull opened, and armed pirates emerged with blaster rifles. Sibley drew his pistol, used his sword to block a few shots, and ducked for cover behind an active turret. "I'm pinned! BOY!"

Creton came about and strafed the hull, sending some pirates into cover and the rest to their maker. As Creton passed, Sibley broke out and charged the nearest pirate standing. He shot that man down with three well-placed shots, and then turned to the next one; he knocked away the few shots that man got off before returning fire. Once he closed, he cut down the cad with his sword. A third took a shot between the eyes before drifting off into the void, and the last one fired and fired and fired as Sibley calmly advanced on him.

"Mercy!" the pirate cried.

"Exterminatus." Sibley replied, and removed the offender's head.

Then Sibley, finding the nearby hatch, cut his way through to the airlock. He waited for the emergency seal to close off the outside hatch, and then cut his way through the inside hatch to gain access to the ship proper. Once through, he found what he expected: battle lighting, alarm klaxons, and calls over the comms for reports to and from the bridge.

"I'm in." Sibley said into his comlink.

Crisis at Garmil's Gate - 23

On the bridge of Redalen's Revenge, battle lighting and alarm klaxons mirrored the mood of her captain and crew.

"Helm, bring us about. Configure for point-blank range and go all-ahead full!"

Gori looked to his captain. "Ready here, Captain!"

Jack called down to the hangar. "Prepare my mech for launch. I'm going out." he said, and then gave a thumbs-up to Gori. The space pirate headed for the lift while his lieutenant took his position. As Jack descended from the bridge to the hangar bay, Revenge turned about to advance on the Tiger of Maribu, dodging volleys from its turrets in doing so, and it turned on its axis to present all of its guns upon the enemy.

"Fire!" Gori bellowed, and all of the pirate's cannons fired upon the Maribu, scoring solid hits across the dorsal hull. A volley of missiles followed, swarming down and forcing the point-defense systems to their limits. With the mech squadron brawl now moving to push between the two battleships, the Maribu adjusted its position to maximize its turrets' ability to fire upon the Revenge.

Now Jack ran through the hangar bay, rushing across the open space to where his personal mech stood ready for him. Once inside, and the cockpit closed, he keyed the comlink as he rushed through takeoff.

"Gori, transmit Order Zahn and wait for my signal."

Jack's mech finished its takeoff sequence. Powered up and ready to go, Jack maneuvered to the ventral hatch and stood ready. Oh the outside, the Revenge and the Maribu pummeled each other with successive volleys from their turrets as well as emptying their missile bays with repeated launches as they closed to point-blank range. Back inside, Jack monitored the distance between the two ships, and when the distance reach clear visual range, Jack keyed the comlink: "GO!"

Jack launched from the ventral hatch, now appearing upside down from the perspective of the Maribu, and used the exchange of fire to cover its signal until it appeared out of the Revenge's shadow. Then it joined the dogfight, quickly clearing out Far's men and relieving his own. With no more enemy mecha, they fell in behind Jack and followed Jack's assault on the Maribu as the Revenge pummeled it without mercy. While several of his men fell to the ship's point-defense guns, enough slipped across the hull to support Jack's attack on the engines to make the threat of crippling or destroying them viable.

"Maximum firepower!" Jack said, "Now!"

Jack and his remaining men launched every munition they had and exhausted their guns by unloading them into the Maribu's engines. Several satisfying explosions erupted from them, forcing the engineers therein to flee as bulkheads slammed into place to contain the damage and expel the explosive forces into space. With oxygen quickly consumed, the fires flared out fast, but by then the ability of the Maribu to maneuver had already been hobbled.

"We're done here. Let's go." Jack said, and as the Revenge now began to open the distance again Jack lead what men he had left back into the hangar bay of the Revenge. The battleships kept firing upon each other, lancing each other with main guns and further slicing each other up with the secondary guns, but the engagement was now decided and both Jack and Duke Far realized it.

Unless Ramsey arrived in time.

Crisis at Garmil's Gate - 22

On the bridge of the Tiger of Maribu, Duke Far stood next to the stellar navigation station when an alert sounded.

"Your Grace," a crewman said, "the scout's in position at the suspect location."

"Main screen." Far said, and the video feed from the scout appeared on the big screen. In real time, the scout showed the asteroid pirate base, and its activity resembled that of a panicked wasp hive. Not one of the vessels leaving the base was a warship. Instead, Far witnessed a bunch of pirates in unarmed mechs towing away the stolen container units, apparently leading to a point on the edge of the solar system- right where it opens to deep space.

"Scout, have any warships or mecha come or gone?" Far said, following a hunch.

"None, Your Grace." the scout said, "This is all that's been going on since the base lit up a few moments ago. Just prior to that a burst signal terminated here. Your Grace, this isn't a muster for battle; these pirates are abandoning their base of operations."

Far looked over at his Communications Officer, who nodded affirmatively in anticipation of the question. "Scout, send the trajectory of the burst signal back here. Stay on station, observe, and if detected flee."

"Yes, Your Grace." the scout said, and moments later the requested data appeared. The Communications Officer superimposed the data on a map of the system, revealing a point on the edge of Garmil's Gate's atmosphere.

"General Quarters!" Far said, and the battle lighting came on as the alert klaxons sounded. "Helm, intercept that ascending ship."

The Tiger of Maribu's engines flared to life once more, turning the battleship about and heading away from Gatewatch on an intercept course. As the battleship raced to intercept Redalen's Revenge, the mech squadron aboard ship scrambled and stood ready to launch upon contact.

"Missiles at the ready." Far said, anticipating what's to come, and soon the map updated with positive sensor contact.

"Launch!"

A salvo of missiles fired their engines and flew from their tubes, clearing the battleship before turning and flying towards their target. Immmediately thereafter the mech squadron launched, taking up their formation ahead of the Maribu. The ship's main guns now powered up, anticipating closure to combat ranges presently.

"Enemy missiles inbound!" a crewman said, "Enemy secondary signals confirmed. Tiger Leader has visual confirmation of enemy mecha and their mothership."

"On screen."

Redalen's Revenge appeared on the main screen, starboard side in profile, racing as fast as it can go for the edge of the system.

"Missiles intercepted and destroyed."

"All ahead full! Time for the Tiger to pounce!"

The mech squadrons broke formation and engaged, turning quickly into a series of dogfights, as the Tiger closed on the Revenge

"We've reached gunnery range, Your Grace!"

"FIRE!"

The Tiger's forward turrets opened fire, alternating fire to maintain a steady assault of three-barrel barrages. The first volley scored a glancing blow and coruscated brilliantly off Revenge's shields, but the second hit square on the pirate ship's starboard side. The hit overloaded the shields, bored a hole in the armor and into the hull. Some hapless pirates not incinerated by the shot itself got sucked out into space during decompression before the bulkheads slammed down and sealed off the breach.

Revenge returned fire, tracking the Maribu and firing a barrage from its own turrets. One missed entirely, but two more hit and stressed the shielding on the ship's fore to its limit. A fourth went just high and skated off the shielding over the dorsal hull.

"Now if Roland can just join the battle." Far said, "We can finish Dashing Jack for good."

Crisis at Garmil's Gate - 21

The Baden-Powell broke through Garmil's Gate's atmosphere once more, descending well below the clouds to answer the distress call from the noblewomen on retreat.

"The signal's still transmitting, Sir Ramsey." Sibley said, "I expect that as long as the women can keep the raiders out of their secured room, we can home in on that."

"Creton!" Ramsey said, speaking into his microphone, "On the guns, now!"

"Expecting a hostile reception are we?" Sibley said, and in response two blips came on the sensors coming from the noblewomen's location. "Contacts. Look like the escorts for our raiding party."

"Spin up the guns." Ramsay said, "Take them quickly, boy. We don't have time to waste."

Ramsey saw the guns powering up on his console. "Aye, my lord!" Creton said, his enthusiasm plain, "Standing by!"

"Fire when ready." Ramsey said, "Just make certain that you hit."

The turret rotated around the ship's axis, and the cannons pointed down slightly in the direction of their descent. Creton sat at the controls, fixed on the target reticle, as he saw the lead mech in the pirate element come into range. He marked the wingman's position behind the leader, and in a smooth motion shifted his aim to the trailing wingman. The boy pressed the trigger, and the blaster cannons threw forth a burst of hot plasma bolts downrange.

The leader laughed, thinking that the volley was meant for him, only to hear his wingman cry out a moment before dying as the mech's powerplant exploded. Before the leader got his wits about him, Creton sent a second volley. The bolts slammed into his mech's torso, first burning out the armor and then boring through the cockpit--and him--to the same result. Neither go so much as a ranging shot off.

"Scope's clear, my lord." Sibley said, "We're clear to land."

"No time, Sibley." Ramsey said, "Take the con. I'm dropping down, so I want you and Creton hovering overhead just in case."

"Understood, my lord." Sibley said as he changed seats, "Boy, take the co-pilot's chair."

Creton handed Ramsey the knight's baton, and moments later the ventral hatch opened. Ramsey dropped out of his ship, and free-fell the last half-mile or so to the target while the Baden-Powell veered off slightly. It was a good precaution, because now some ground-to-air missile launched from the surface. Ramsey spread his arms and legs wide, and a thin plasma-like energy flashed up to form a gliding suit out of his armor. The ship drew off and shot down the missiles, and then moved forward in case of more ground fire, which did come as both man and machine came within visual range of the wilderness retreat.

"Sibley!" Ramsey said, "Clear a path!"

Creton used the ship's guns to blow apart the makeshift anti-air gun the pirates put up, and then blew up the shuttle they meant to escape with. Those explosions kept the pirates' attention away from Ramsey until it was too late, and the Paladin glided down from above, swooping down upon them like a mighty eagle. In one smooth motion he landed on one pirate, kneeing the fool in the back and cracking the villain's head open upon the pavement, rolled forward, and shot a second dead with his pistol. A third came at him with a club as Ramsey got to his feat, only to be pushed off his line and shot down by Ramsey.

A forth cried out an alert before being shot dead in turn, and Ramsey knew that violence of action now was his only option. He put his pistol in his off-hand, drew his beam sword, and rushed into the retreat. Two came for him from around a corner; Ramsey ran one of them through, used him as a shield against the other and then shot the second down. They came again and again in twos and threes, until he cut down or shot dead a score in total. The last, standing before the armored door to the secured room, fell on his sword than face his doom like a man.

"I am Lord Roland of the Solar Guard." Ramsey said, putting forth his arms before the camera and showing his face, "The raiders are gone. You may come out now."

Moments a dozen nobles and their attendants emerged from the cramped room, taking their turns blessing him and kissing him, before their hostess and leader emerged. Neither eldest nor youngest, but clearly the highest in station by her bearing. She stood up to Ramsey's chest, a woman in the full bloom of youthful beauty, with straight red hair to her shoulders and eyes blue like a clear sky- a visage so striking that Ramsey paused a moment.

"We are grateful for your valor, Lord Roland." she said, "My father will hear of this for certain."

Ramsey bowed, affecting a courtly manner. "The loss of she whom is heralded as God's songbird would be a terrible injury to Christendom, Countess Robin. However, time is short and I must insist upon haste in escaping. Their master lingers nearby."

Countess Robin nodded. "Agreed. Bring forth your ship, Lord Roland. We are many, but we shall not saddle you for long."

Ramsey keyed into his comlink. "Sibley, bring the ship down and have Creton ready to assist. Tell Gatewatch to expect us presently."

Crisis at Garmil's Gate - 20

Dashing Jack and his man Gori walked alongside the sensory deprivation tank enclosing the prize he came to Garmil's Gate for: the Watcher Azazel. Surrounded by men carefully controlling the transport of the tank, Jack knew he should feel at ease but was not- a tell that Gori noticed.

"Captain, wouldn't have been easier to wake up our prize and let him walk out under his own power?"

"Gori, you're not a well-read man, are you?" Jack said, "There's a very good reason to keep him under and present him to Red Eyes as he is, and that reason is because the odds of something going catastrophically wrong--killing us, or worse--in the process drop like a stone when the one most capable of doing so remains incapacitated."

"You talk like this is a weapon, Captain."

"Worse, Gori. He's the maker of weapons. This angel is a living, breathing, weapons factory. As as I know too well that rewards are useless if you're dead, I'll take the chance of displeasing Red Eyes over the certainty of reward for delivering what he wants into his hands whole, safe, and sound."

They entered the great lift and ascended to the dock.

"It's also faster to do it this way. No harder than moving a warhead this way, and we've stolen plenty of those recently haven't we? As time is not our ally-"

Gori made an obscene thrusting gesture. "The sooner we're back in port making our way through the pillow dens at Ragdoll Randy's!"

"Focus, Gori." Jack said, snapping his fingers, "You know damn well that Fang won't occupy his betters for much longer, and need I remind you what happens next?"

"They come for us."

"And how long do you think it will take for them to conclude that we are here, and come to intercept us?"

Before Gori could answer, the lift stopped and the doors opened. At that moment, Jack got a call from the ship. "Captain, the Tiger of Maribu is here."

Jack hustled out of the way of his man. "Get that aboard and secured at once!"

Gori, anticipating his master's next command, gave it: "All hands, return to the ship. We are leaving! Any man not on board in 10 minutes will be left behind."

"Helm, prepare for takeoff." Jack ordered, "Squadron, get outside and run a combat patrol pattern. I won't be caught by surprise."

Gori looked at Jack, and the pirate captain sighed. "Gori, our team at the retreat is on standby, right?"

"Aye, captain. Shall I give the order?"

"Yes, but make this clear: they must be unspoiled, Gori! I'll unman them bare-handed if they dare disobey! We need them unspoiled!"

Gori gave that order over the coms, using a secure channel. Then he and Jack hurried back aboard Redalen's Revenge with the rest of the away party. As the engines spun up, and the crew ensured that their cargo got locked down, Jack took his seat on the bridge.

"Report!"

"The Tiger of Maribu and Gatewatch opened fire upon the Opulent Dragon. Captain, the Dragon won't last long."

"Nether will we if we don't get going. Lift off as soon as we're able, Helm."

Redalen's Revenge lifted off the prison's dock and backed out slowly, with Jack watching the scene in orbit all the while. Gori kept an eye on the mech squadron on patrol, and all aboard the pirate battleship felt a keen tension. First the Paladin, now Duke Far, and his obstacles keeping them at bay quickly crumbling to dust. The sway team attacking the noblewomen on retreat are the last chance he has to buy time and distance, and he knows it.

"Status on the retreat, Gori?"

"Underway, Captain. They'll report back when they're ready for pickup."

Jack nodded his acknowledgement, but both he and Gori knew not to expect that call. Those men are already dead.

The Galactic Christendom Video Pitch

Recently I saw a post on Twitter that went, roughly, "Post three pics that sell your story." Fuck it, videos instead.

Just add DEUS VULT and lightsabers and you get Galactic Christendom.

Sure, there's substance behind the scenes to ensure that it all holds up, but there's your elevator pitch. It's what I use when I think I'm losing focus, because if I can nail that mood then I'm going to entertain the audience and that's what I have to do. This sets the expectations that I need to fulfill, and thereby allows me to identify and filter out what doesn't belong (such as nihilism and the degeneracy it brings). You don't get much more simple than that, in terms of useful writer tools.

Crisis at Garmil's Gate - 19

The Opulent Dragon and the Tiger of Maribu began firing upon each other, and with the former battleship unable to manuever the fight escalated into a merciless slugfest between the ships' main cannons. Meanwhile, both ships sortied their mech squadrons, which immediately rushed to engage each other. Gatewatch joined the fray, launch its mech squadrons and firing upon the Dragon in support of the Maribu.

The relentless pummeling by naval artillery shook the interior more and more severely, making the fighting inside become perilous beyond expectation. Ramsey, Far, and Far's bodyguard cut a bloody swath through Fang's loyal crew as they race for the Flight Deck, arriving just as they see Fang attempt to forcibly board Duke Far's shuttle only to see the pilot and co-pilot resist them.

Far keyed into a comlink. "Pilot! This is your Duke. We are approaching your position. Stand ready for the men and I to board."

"Acknowledged, Your Grace."

With a nod, Far and Ramsey rushed out of cover to attack Fang on the flank. The shuttle kept the traitor pinned down, and that left Fang open. The first few shots fired at the traitor's position cut down several of his men, dropping them to the deck, before Fang and the remainder shifted their position as best they could to cover against both threats. With Fang and Ramsey in the lead, their beam swords blazing, they quickly closed the gap and fell upon Lord Fang two on one- two of the best swordsmen in the galaxy against one cunning criminal nobleman.

Fang knew he couldn't win this encounter. Immediately on the back foot, he tried to disengage again and again, only for one or the other to thwart the gambit. Beyond the duo delivering his doom, he saw the shuttle admit Far's men. A well of resentment and frustration burst forth, unmanning Lord Fang and prompting him to lash out at Duke Far with a wordless howl of rage. Unmoved, Far stepped off Fang's line and struck. The first removed the condemned man's arm. The second removed his head.

Ramsey extinguished his sword. "I'll have Sibley pick me up."

"They'll fight to the last, but none shall survive." Far said, "Once we're both away, let us discuss the matter of Fang's former ally."

"Agreed." Ramsey said, "A temporary parting, Your Grace."

"Yes, Lord Roland." Far said as he shook Ramsey's hand, "Until later then."

Ramsey nodded, and Far took his leave. Boarding the shuttle, Far escaped the Dragon without further incident. A short time later, the Baden-Powell entered and hovered while Ramsey boarded. Once aboard and underway, Ramsey took his place in the pilot's chair and watched on the main screen as the combined fire of Gatewatch and the Tiger of Maribu finished their pummeling of the Opulent Dragon, with a final volley hitting the power plant and provoking a most violent explosion.

"May God have mercy on their souls." Ramsey said as the Baden-Powell approached the Maribu.

Crisis at Garmil's Gate - 18

Duke Far, leader of House Far, stood on the bridge of the Opulent Dragon with a dejected Lord Fang kneeling before him while Ramsey stood just behind the disgraced nobleman.

"Your guilt is plain." Far said, "And your confession makes moot any question of evidence. You have betrayed your lord and your God. You know the penalties for treason."

Fang bowed obsequeously, touching his forehead to the floor in the expected manner. "I do."

"Then you know what to do." Far said, and he snapped his fingers. A man of his retinue stepped forward with an ornate box. Fang returned to his kneeling position and looked on, expecting the ritual sword from his quarters, but he couldn't see it- Far stood in the way.

"Lord Roland will guarantee things should you fail this one final task."

"Of course." Fang said, a hint of nerves creeping into his voice.

Fang turned about and threw the expected sword at Fang's feet. Fang's mask of calm fell away as he saw that the sword was a wooden training sword.

"Go on, we're waiting." Far said, sternly. Ramsey saw Far's way of dealing with double-talking tricksters.

"Where's my sword?" Far said, concerned.

"His Grace the Duke saw that your sword had broken, so he sent it away with the rest of your effects." Ramsey said, "I had my page's training sword brought in for this affair due to a lack of viable alternatives."

"It's made of wood!"

"Fang, you know that the truly determined will fall upon a sword of reeds, much less wood of this timber." Far said, and now his face showed that he saw that Fang had truly trapped himself.

Fang sighed, and reluctantly he made the ritual motion to pick up the sword. In that motion, his hands crossed at the wrists, and that motion did not go unnoticed. Fang opened his jacket, as expected, to bear his chest and abdomen and made ready to fall on that wooden sword.

The lights went out as he began that thrust. No sooner did they flicker than Ramsey drew his beam sword and slashed down at Fang, but the blow missed. Far also drew his sword, guessing Fang's move, but struck only the trainer. A hatch in the ceiling popped open, and a third beam sword lit up the room, revealing Fang's location. Yet before the Paladin and the Duke could take Fang two-on-one, the doors opened and Fang's men fired into the bridge forcing them and Far's men to take cover.

Fang ran around his enemies and escaped the bridge, once more leaving them in darkness. "Get the emergency lights on!" Far said.

"You're not getting off my ship as easily as you got on." Fang said over the intercom, "I've sealed and locked out the main bridge, and life support is soon to follow. Cut your way out and you'll be swarmed by my men until you're dead. Stay put and suffocate while you freeze solid. Take your pick, my lords."

Ramsey keyed into his comlink. "Sibley"

"Aye my lord." Sibley said, "I knew he'd pull something like this."

"Cripple the ship." Ramsey said, "Then patch His Grace through to the Marabu."

By now Far had a few of his men cutting down the door with beam swords while the rest stood ready with blaster pistols to face what lay on the other side. They felt, then heard, an explosion before Sibley got back on the line.

"That did it." Sibley said, "And you're patched in, Your Grace."

"Captain, this is the Duke. Prepare to repel boarders."

The Maribu's captain answered. "Yes, Your Grace. Proceeding as planned."

"As planned?" Ramsey said.

"You just turned his battleship into a space station, Lord Roland. Did you expect him to escape by stealing away with his personal mech?"

Ramsey sighed. "I did."

Now more explosions rocked the ship. "Not until his pride is soothed, and that means making you and I look weak and stupid."

The door fell to the floor, and Far's men threw smoke grenades into the hall beyond. Without a word, both noblemen followed the men into the corridor. Now in the lead, they headed for the Flight Deck- and Fang.

Crisis at Garmil's Gate - 17

Aboard the Opulent Dragon, Lord Fang looked out from inside the brig at the proxy holding him for his master.

"How long until the Duke arrives?" Fang said.

"Not soon enough." Ramsey said, looking back, "You would be wise to start confessing now."

"Not that it matters." Fang said, head low, "If Dashing Jack sold me out, then he's got to be close to his objective, so it's not likely that you or the Duke could do anything about it now."

Ramsey quietly pressed a key on his gauntlet. "Go on."

"The prison, Paladin. You know it's there."

"It's said to be a colony for the worst sorts, yet for whatever reason cannot be executed."

"True, from a certain point of view. Yet all of the traffic to and from the surface consists of Mining Guild vessels moving ore up and supplies down, or nobles visiting retreats with their entourages. When was the last time you saw anything other than scheduled warden changeovers go to or from that prison?"

In his earpiece Ramsey heard Creton: "I'm on it."

"Christendom is rather large, my lord." Ramsey said, "I do not keep track of every last little installation in the galaxy."

"Christendom didn't build that prison, Lord Roland." Fang said, "It was found here, along with that gate, with Garmil's party. Our forefathers, with the Church, seized it. Back then it wasn't a prison as we know such, but rather a tomb with measures meant to keep its interred host confined there."

"They expanded it into a prison once that condition became clear?"

"Indeed." Fang said, "As for who or what is kept in that place, I had no idea who it was until Dashing Jack approached me with this present plan."

"He told you?"

Fang shook his head. "I felt a shiver of suspicion, as his claim of just wanting to usurp the mining operation for Red Eyes was not reason enough for all of the secrecy and compartmentalization the plan required. It's one thing to keep some stashes nearby to swiftly resupply, or store booty from a raid that you can't take to your home port, but Jack hollowed out an asteroid large enough to wholly dock his flagship within. That's not an idle task."

Ramsey nodded as Creton spoke into his ear from elsewhere: "According to Church archives, only one prisoner is there."

"One of Red Eyes' henchmen sets up a significant base capable of repair and resupply of at least one battleship? Yes, that is a big task, and it means he's been preparing for this for far longer than you my lord. You've been had, taken in by your own corrupt heart."

Now Sibley spoke into Ramsey's ear: "You see Fang's play now, don't you? He'll attempt to run as soon as your back's turned."

"And now you sing a song of deceit and treachery far fouler than your own, seeking a mercy you don't deserve in return for telling tales to pass blame to your co-conspirators."

"His Grace the Duke may not share your conclusion." Fang said, "He has a pragmatic character."

"Indeed." Ramsey said, "He may not, but neither would I expect the pragmatic response to be mercy for someone confessed to treason and worse."

Ramsey read Fang, seeing his eyes glance up to the ceiling for a fraction of a second, and then noticed Fang sitting such that he could easily spring up into action. "Sibley was right as usual." Ramsey thought, "He wants to run, but not like a thief caught with a purse- but as an assassin caught in the attempt."

The speakers for the public address system sounded. "Attention! The Tiger of Maribu has arrived."

"My lord shall receive justice presently." Ramsey said as he turned to leave the brig. As he made his way to meet Duke Far, he smiled and spoke to his subordinates on the Baden-Powell: "I have a plan to turn Fang's escape plan back on him, and I think Duke Far will go along with it."

Crisis at Garmil's Gate - 14

Aboard the Opulant Dragon, Lord Fang lay fast asleep in his luxurious quarters alongside one of his personal attendants--his euphemism of choice--unaware of the disaster unfolding in the space below, when an alert sounded loud enough to force the sleeping lord back to waking life. This angered Lord Fang, who rubbed the sleep from his eyes and slapped the comlink.

"Bridge, there had better be an enemy assault in progress."

"My lord," the watch officer said, "you need to answer a message from Duke Far. Now."

Lord Fang waived the lights on, dim, and sat at his office char. "Replay message."

A stern-faced, unhappy Duke Far appeared on the screen. "Fang, I've come into possession of documents indicating that you've been in league with the Red Eyes Pirates. Specifically, that you've supplied them with mecha from our own stores. That you've used the fake attacks to kill rivals, eliminate leaks, and weaken our defenses by assassinating key officials in our network. In short, you've got a lot of accusations to answer for, and not a lot of time before I arrive to board your ship and take you into custody. Don't even think of running; I've asked for the Paladin on station to apprehend you in my name, and His Holiness the Pope has agreed."

Lord Fang felt a primordial fear race up his spine.

"If you wish to take full responsibility, then I await hearing of your successful apology--along with your corpse lying in state--when I arrive. Far over and out."

Another image broke in, this one live: "This is Lord Roland of the Solar Guard, acting on behalf of Duke Far. Lord Fang, you are commanded to heave to and be boarded. I place you under arrest under the charges of high treason, apostasy, and piracy."

"Orders, my lord?" the watch officer said.

"Hold position, bridge. I'm on my way." Lord Fang said as he threw on a shirt and tucked his beam sword into his waistband. He walked briskly from his quarters to the bridge, racing through his mind to figure out how this happened, but a review of his own records showed that he covered his tracks properly- it wasn't his fault. He dismissed Sir Kei and Sir Pei out of hand; they lacked access as well as ambition, so they weren't responsible either. Master Iser died, so he could have released it as a deadman's switch measure, but Fang felt that unlikely.

"I'm get that double-talker for this." Fang thought as he rode the lift to the bridge, "Damn you, Dashing Jack."

Fang arrived on the bridge. Everyone saluted him, as usual, and Fang took the captain's chair. "Status."

"Gatewatch refuses to mobilize, and Lord Roland's ship has maneuvered itself right next to our primary thrusters. Her guns can't miss at that range."

"And that means we are dead in space." Fang said, "Clever man, that Paladin."

"Orders, my lord?"

Fang quickly ran the numbers. "Let the Paladin aboard." he said, "We can handle one man."

Crisis at Garmil's Gate - 13

Hiding out in a hollowed-out asteroid on the outer edge of the system, Dashing Jack holds a tablet in one hand and a half-empty wine glass in the other as he looks out over the scene below: his ship held fast in the hangar as his crew scurries in spacesuits to fix it.

"Reporting, Captain!" Gori said as he walked into the office, saluting.

Jack turned out, put down the tablet, and sighed. "Is this about the revolt?"

Gori, stunned, answered: "Yes, sir, it is."

"It failed, didn't it?"

Gori dropped his head. "Yes, sir. It did."

Jack waived his Executive Officer over and handed him the tablet. "Now we know why."

Gori looked at the file on display. He recognized the face as that of Sir Ramsey, but what shocked him was the context for the photograph: his personnel file.

"It came with the regular courier drop a few hours ago, shortly before we recovered the survivors." Jack said, "The boss's man inside provided this to him, and he provided it to us."

Gori skimmed through the film, scrolling down. No mention of a father. No mention of a mother. No siblings. Only who recruited him into the Solar Guard, and later took him as a squire: Sir Aitkin Crow, Lord Michael. One of the three sitting Archangels of the Guard, and therefore one of the three Commanders of the Guard- one of the three greatest living Paladins.

"Since he was a boy, this Ramsey's been living a soldier's life. Learned everything at the knee of one of the living legends of Christendom." Jack said, "He's been doing this sort of thing for about 20 years, Gori."

Gori kept scrolling. No wife. No children. No other dependents.

"No leverage." Jack said, "He's a weapon, Gori, a living and thinking weapon. No wonder the Court of Stars sends him out here."

"He put down the revolt in about four hours, Captain." Gori said, putting the tablet on the desk, "Just him, his ship, and his squire."

"20 years of being, at the risk of being dramatic, a questing knight. Gori, we're in trouble."

"What do we do?"

"The ace unit isn't accounted for, is it?" Jack said, and Gori confirmed with a wordless nod.

"It won't be for long." Jack said, "That's his next play. He's use it to slip in under our noses and then sabotage us. He may even disguise himself as the pilot."

"So what's the plan?"

"We need to buy time before we can pull out of here for good." Jack said, "We still don't have what we came for, and because of this Paladin we need to step up the timetable. It's time to cut the dead weight loose."

"Lord Fang?"

"Outlived his usefulness. Time to give him a problem he can't browbeat away. Signal our man at the tomb to ready for our arrival, and ensure that the noble lord's activity get to our adversary's attention. That should keep him busy enough to let us finish our work and leave."

Gori looked his captain, unconvinced.

"Anything else, Gori?"

"If he's as good as our intelligence implies, it's still coming down to a fight at the end. You should have the data on his unit in yours."

"If it comes down to a fight, Gori, then it needs to be one far more crooked in our favor than having unit data."

Crisis at Garmil's Gate - 12

The men in the Oni-class mecha laughed until their sensors blared a warning of an enemy unit suddenly appearing below. The laughter stopped, and one of them moved his unit to the edge to look down. He gasped, and he ran back from the ledge. Before the others could ask what he saw, they beheld the same sight.

Durandal, with its cockpit hatch open, rose out of the mile-deep pit. Standing in the open hatchway, arms folded under his chest and feet spread apart, stood Sir Ramsey. His face wore a mask of terrible resolve, and his eyes fixed upon them as if he could see into their wretched souls.

"This is Durandal, the Sword of Roland." Ramsey said, "I've seen what you can do with your mecha. Now you shall see what I can do with mine."

Ramsey stepped back into the cockpit and closed the hatch. The eyes on the unit's head flared as if awakening, and the four men in the Oni units felt a primal fear arise in them and fix them firmly. All they could do was watch as the gleaming silver-steel came out of the pit and landed before them.

"Come at me, curs!" Ramsay commanded, "Come at me if you want to live."

"Attack!" the man in the royal blue unit said, and the four of them rushed Ramsey with beam swords ignited. But they came at Ramsey in a panic, fear driving them to desperation and away from reason or control, and so they came at him in a manner that Ramsey readily exploited. He met the lead man, caught the man's attack with his free hand, and ran the man's unit in half at the waist. He kicked the first man at the second just before the first's unit exploded, severely damaging the second and blowing him to the ground. This let Ramsey turn about and block the third's attack, which he them slipped down the man's blade and severed the third man's sword arm off.

Ramsey turned to the blue unit. "I will leave you for last."

Ramsey then turned his beam sword into a reverse grip. As the third unit picked up the severed arm to use as a club, Ramsey took a step and stabbed that unit through-and-through the chest. As it fell over and exploded, Ramsey stalked towards the blue unit.

"Stay back!" the man said as he took up his best defensive stance, "I'm warning you!"

Ramsey beat away the beam sword. "Or what?

The man did not reply, so Ramsey held his sword at the unit's hatch. "Get out."

The man complied. He emerged from the blue unit with his hands up. "On the ground. Now."

As the man got down on the ground, on his knees, hands behind his head the Baden-Powell approached. It fired on the one remaining grey unit as it attempted to pull a sneak attack on Ramsey, destroying it.

"Typical!" Sibley said, "You left just one, and that one half-eaten."

"We have a prize, Sibley. Send down the lad to collect it. We may need it later. Send him down when you come to collect this man."

"Aye, Sir Ramsey." Sibley said, "So what now?"

Ramsey looked into the captive's eyes. "Verification."

Crisis at Garmil's Gate - 09

Sir Ramsey began a countdown in a corner of his helmet's viewscreen, letting him track the estimated arrival of the enemy as he went about preparing the courtyard for another battle. He pushed wrecked mecha and other vehicles into the breech of the outer wall, prepared traps using loose ordinance, and set up killzones where the enemy's numbers wouldn't benefit them. Once ready, with some minutes to spare, Ramsey got to the compound's media center and put himself on the comms.

He first opened a channel to directly connect to Solar Guard Headquarters on Earth.

"Priority Transmission to Palatine Hill from Garmil's Gate. Authorization: Sir Ramsey Hennipen, Seat of Roland."

The screen read back "Access Granted".

"Inform Court of Stars. Insurrection in progress. Lord Fang and Mining Master Iser in league with Red Eyes pirates. Iser slain. Lord Fang's location unknown. Gatewatch status unknown. Situation is in hand. Recommend Lord Fang's liege intervene."

The screen read back: "Cast in the name of God. Ye Not Guilty."

"Acknowledged. Sir Ramsey, over and out."

Then Sir Ramsey got on the channel used by the rebelling workers.

"This is Sir Ramsey Hennepin, Paladin of the Solar Guard. I hold the High Justice. Those that surrender shall receive mercy. Those that resist shall die condemned of heresy and treason."

Ramsey saw Dashing Jack's face appear before him. "If, Paladin. If you can enforce it. You are still just one man."

"I an not just one man, villain. I am never just one man. Observe--I know you are--and you shall see this first hand before you go to Hell."

"Indeed. Entertain me, Papal Puppet. Dance! Dance for my amusement."

The sounds of artillery fire blowing apart the improvised barricade prompted Ramsey to cut the comms. The timer ran out; and the enemy arrived right on time. As Ramsey ran to his first position, he saw in another window on his viewscreen a perspective from one of the working security cameras of rebel mecha and infantry rushing into the courtyard. He saw them stop after the first bomb exploded and took out the leading infantry platoon as well as the armed worker mecha they escorted.

By the time he got into position, the enemy cleared away their wrecked unit and swept clear what remained of the infantry. He put up a shoulder-fired missile launcher, took aim, and launched at the foremost unit. He didn't wait to see if he hit; he immediately tossed the launcher and ran back under cover. The return fire tore apart his former position while the impact on the leading unit stymied any attempt to track him long enough to thwart it.

"I can't move!" the unit's pilot said, confirmng Ramsey's hope of a mobility kill. As he got into his second position, where another launcher awaited him, he heard the order from the rebel commander: "Reduce the upper floors and force him to the ground." Ramsey smiled; someone there wasn't a complete moron. He fired his second missile, again running back under cover, and this time switching down to the ground floor. The enemy mecha fired upon the compound's buildings, leveling their upper floors, before sending infantry into the now-reduced remains aiming to force Ramsey into the open.

But this meant going into close quarters, where Ramsey again held the advantage, and he ambushed the first squad he found with beam sword and blaster. He erupted from a side room into a hallway, appearing in the middle of their single-file formation, cutting down one man while shooting a second in the chest with a double-tap technique. Caught unawares, they attempted to respond.

"You're not fast enough!" he declared as he cut and shot them down in their confusion.

Soon he flushed them out of the buildings and back into the courtyard, quivering in fear. Their leader emerged from on of the armed workers, and he shot one of them to get their attention.

"One! Man!"

Ramsey strode into view, standing in the doorway of what was the compound's main building- formerly Master Iser's headquarters. He took aim at the rebel commander with his blaster.

"Paladin!" Ramsey said, and shot the commander dead with a clean hit to the man's forehead.

The infantry broke and ran, fleeing before the golden-armored knight, only to to stop before the sight of a giant-sized man-like robot.

"Go on!" its pilot said, "We've got this."

Sir Ramsey let the rabble flee. Instead, he took notice of the mecha now arriving. These were the House Fang units, repainted black with red accents and red eyes. His viewscreen identified them as basic Oni-class models, though they had to have undergone some modification by now.

"Come out, Paladin. Let's see you fight against us."

"Don't be so hasty." Ramsey said as he took in the full view of the enemy mecha--both the new arrivals and the armed workers remaining--before him, "I will not deny your request, or to hear your regrets for making it."

Crisis at Garmil's Gate - 08

Master Iser and Sir Ramsey clashed their beam swords together, crossing red-on-gold with sparks and discord.

"How does it feel, Master Iser? To get so far in your schemes, only to have someone come along who can tear it apart inside a day?"

Iser broke the clench and made a cut at Ramsey, which the Paladin easily blocked. "I wouldn't know. I've not had a scheme fail so far."

"You think you can turn this around?" Ramsay said as he hammered at Iser's guard, knocking the traitor off-balance and flailing to stay on his feet, "You have no idea how many times I've been in this exact situation, Iser."

"Oh," Iser said with a mocking gesture, "do tell."

"Fool!" Ramsay smashed aside Iser's blade. "I am 30 years old, and a Paladin of the Solar Guard. What does that tell you?"

"That you had friends shower you with prestige?"

Ramsey cut Iser's hands off, and then cut his beam sword in half. "Try again."

Iser stood there, looking at the cauterized stumps where his hands used to be. Ramsey didn't need to see Iser's face to know his mind at that moment.

"There, Iser, is your answer. When you reach Hell, go look up the other villains I'd sent there previously. They'll tell you just how wrong you were."

Ramsey's tone brought Iser back to the moment. "What do you mean, 'were'? Are you arresting me?"

"By right as Paladin of the Solar Guard, and confirmed by the Court of Stars, I hold the High Justice. You are condemned, Master Iser, for treason and heresy."

"Condemned? What idiocy is this?"

Ramsey shut off his blade, turned his back, and walked away. "You are already dead."

Iser, beneath his crimson helm, looked on astonished. "What?"

"Sibley." Ramsey said, ignoring the man, "What's the situation?"

"You can't be serious!" Iser said, disbelieving, when he attempted to step forward. His legs did not move, but his torso did and fell forward off his waist and hit the floor. The clang and thump of the now-lifeless corpse of the traitor Master Iser didn't so much as get Ramsey to look over his shoulder.

"The courtyard is clear of hostiles, Sir Ramsey, but heavier mecha and the main forces are on their way here from the elevator. They have it under their control."

"Nothing from Gatewatch?"

"Not a word. Something's wrong."

"The usual something, Sibley. Go with Creton and handle the elevator. I'll deal with the main force."

"They've got proper military-grade mecha in the main force along with more of their modified workers. You'll need more than your sword and blasters."

Ramsey reached into a boot sleeve and retrieved the baton that Creton gave to him previously. "Your boy made certain that I'd be ready for that scenario. Go on now. I'll be fine."

As Sir Ramsey made his way out from the hole in the wall and down into the courtyard, he saw in his faceplate a viewscreen from the perspective of the Baden-Powell: a squadron of mecha, backed by a company of rebelling workers on foot, rapidly converged on his location. Four of them seemed to be proper military models, resembling those stolen from a mothball facility run by House Fang several months ago.

"I see." Sir Ramsey said, "The matter is clear to me now. This treachery ends, here and now."

Crisis at Garmil's Gate - 01

The Baden-Powell arrived at Garmil's Gate to find a Red Eyes pirate attack upon an incoming merchant convoy.

"This is Sir Ramsey Hennipen, Paladin of the Solar Guard. All Red Eyes vessels will heave to and surrender or be destroyed."

On the viewscreen, Sir Ramsey saw several of the squat, blocky mecha sortied by the Red Eyes pirates turn about from their dogfight with the garrison at the orbital colony of Gatewatch to intercept his ship. Then, despite extreme range, they fired upon him.

"There's your answer, Sir Ramsey."

"Sibley," Ramsey said to the elder warrior sitting adjacent to him, "signal Creton to stand by on the guns. The lad's clear to fire when they come into range."

The gray-haired sergeant-at-arms keyed into the ship's comms. "Son, stand by on the guns. Fire when they're in range."

"Aye, father!" said an eager young boy, "Ready for battle!"

Sir Ramsey focused his attention outward once more. "Saint Itano, make Creton's aim true."

He threw the throttle forward, going all-ahead full to reach combat speed. Without another word, he saw the ship's secondary guns--mounted on turrets on the dorsal hull--light up, launching rapid volleys of laser-guided plasma appearing as red bolts in the void of space at the Red Eyes mechs advancing upon them. The unit in the center of the formation took a full volley head-on and exploded in a fireball, shattering the formation and leaving a hole for the Baden-Powell to fill.

"That should relieve the fighters defending the merchant convoy." Sibley said, looking at the bigger battle before them.

Creton swung the dorsal and ventral turrets about as Sir Ramsey spun the ship on its horizontal axis, allowing the turret a full sweep of fire. The Red Eyes mechs reoriented as they broke formation, bringing their cannons to bear, but Creton struck down the one trying to fire from their starboard flank before it brought those cannons about.

With that side clear, Ramsey turned away from the other two that fired from the port flank. Creton struck the lower of the two first, and as Ramsey completed the roll Creton acquired and fired upon the last one. Its hapless pilot sat there, mouth agape as the lethal volley slammed right into his cockpit, stunned that he and his wingmen went down so easily.

In the middle of the furball fought amongst the merchant convoy, a giant humanoid robot in black-and-red with a pair of red eyes cut down a defending fighter with a beam sword. Its pilot, cocky enough to not wear a flight suit, heard an entire flight of his minions scream their death cries seconds apart. He brushed a lock of hair out of his face and smirked. "The Church sent a Paladin? House Far must be desperate."

The face of a man who seemed to have been molded by repeated hammer blows appeared on a side monitor. "Captain, primary objective is complete."

"Acknowledged, Gori." the captain said, "Recall the fighters and spin up the drive. I'll cover their retreat. We're done here."

Aboard the Baden-Powell, Sir Ramsey saw the smirking captain appear on his viewscreen.

"Greetings, Sir Ramsey. I am Dashing Jack, captain of this band, and we shall neither surrender nor be destroyed. Rather, we shall take our leave."

Sibley quickly pinpointed Jack's unit and brought it on screen in another window. "He's got a knight's mech, Sir Ramsey."

"Paladin, I recommend playing to the heroic nature of your kind and choosing not to pursue today. As I am certain you can see, I am quite capable of crippling or sinking these vessels before you can stop me. I'm certain that the garrison commander will concur that you are wise to acquiesce."

A third window opened, this time showing the face of that very man: Sir Kei, of House Far's vassal family, the Fangs. "My wing is unable to pursue, but we can escort them to port. There will be another time, Paladin."

Ramsey turned to Sibley. "Time to target."

"At this speed, three minutes."

Ramsey stared at Dashing Jack, countenance stern. Jack smirked at first, but soon it faded, replaced by nervous laughter. "Until we meet again, Paladin."

Jack cut off his comlink. "He's retreating now."

Ramsey turned that face to Sir Kei. "Thank you, Paladin." Kei said, his voice betraying his exasperation, and also cut his comlink.

Sibley keyed into the ship's comms. "Stand down son. Fun's over, for now."

"Too easy." Ramsey said, "I'm certain that The Red Eyes have something bigger at play here."

"Aye, Sir Ramsey, but what is it and who else is involved?"

"We'll find out soon enough. Resume course for Gatewatch. We'll start with Sir Kei."

The Hustling Part of the Writing Game

Independent author and Dragon Award winner Brian Niemeier, again putting down the reliable method for building yourself up in this business:

Indie author marketing tips:
-Build your blog & social media accts.
-You are your brand.
-Give value to bigger names to forge relationships.

— Brian Niemeier (@BrianNiemeier) January 27, 2017

He would go on to post a link to the book of the man who asked that question, demonstrating the principle in action. Get used to this if you want to be part of this game, no matter what genre or niche you want to be part of in particular. The Big 5 (and their foreign counterparts) are all going down, as are the major bookstore chains that they've long worked with and through.

Even if you're with one of them, they aren't going to hustle on your behalf so you need to do it yourself- and if that is what you need to do, why the fuck are you giving them such a big cut? Go to a smaller house that isn't shambling like a zombie, or go wholly independent, or be like Brian and do both. (Read that post; he's paying closer attention to the publishing work than I am.)

There's more to the hustle than marketing yourself, and that's learning how to make what you write sell. Writing is a craft, and crafts are like any other technology: discoverable, repeatable, refinable, perfectable. For what Brian does, what I want to do, and many others in the genre fiction world we've had some proven techniques for generations now- now being rediscovered and relearned by folks who (a) want to get away from the Pink SF/F pozzed piss-poor pap and (b) want to actually pay fucking bills by writing like Robert E. Howard did nearly a century ago.

Living master John C. Wright did a post on Lester Dent's template for reliably-sale-able pulp adventure short stories, a formula that Michael Moorcock would go on to expand and refine for his novel-length works. Brian would add that Hollywood most definitely uses its own formula, and then there's Campbell's Hero's Journey which George Lucas made famous (because he used them for Star Wars).

And yes, for whatever you want to write you can count on there being a proven and reliable formula for that if you want to actually sell what you write. For self-help stuff, you can see it in how Mike Cernovich and Ivan Throne wrote their books. Comics have their conventions, varying by genre. Romance is so formulaic that there are Mad Lib generators, and some folks use them for something other than a joke. Learn what your niche's formula is and master it before fucking with it. Yeah, it's part of the hustle, and there's no getting around it.

The days of an author being solely a reclusive, introverted individual leaving the tasks of promotion, publication, and revenue oversight to others is done- a temporary state, now disappearing as the mean reasserts itself. Once more, your success is entirely on you to achieve, so get up and lead your way to it- and get used to this being your life.

Writing Update: The End of "The Burning of Hugo" Revised

"Please, Ken!" Hugo said, dropping to his knees, put forth his hands together as if beseeching an angry god. "You've done enough. Stop!"

About them, though the walls muffled them, they heard the crises of the slain as Ken's allies cut them down with disciplined fire and the terror of flame.

"Hugo, you know better than that. You've published my stories for 25 years. You know how this ends."

Ken put a gas can on the floor, hitting with a clear THUMP! to show it to be full.

"What gets me is why, Hugo. You did the very stupid things that you've heard me talk about, made your fortune writing about, became famous for publishing. You did it. Why?"

"Why?" Hugo said, his hands now balled into fists and slamming the floor, "Because I never got any respect! No one took me seriously until I got on board with this. I went from endless mockery in the literary press to getting Hollywood studios burning up my phone. My original fiction finally got some fucking notice, and it got pushed!"

"So, all you had to do was to stab me in the back and renounce what made you great and now you had the good word of a bunch of useless parasites and some two-faced whore in your bed."

"I had to grow up, Ken! So do you."

Ken shook his head as he drew a lighter from a pocket. "You are beyond saving."

Hugo looked up as Ken popped the cap on the gas can. "No, Ken. No. No, no, no..."

"I never needed you, Hugo." Ken said as he poured the gasoline over Hugo. "You needed me. Your decline after betraying me shows that clearly. This is not the first betrayal for me, but it is the last for you."

"Just fucking shoot me!"

"No. You shall be the example for others to avoid. Burn, traitor."

Ken poured out a line across the room from Hugo and stood at that end. He held up the lighter, waited until Hugo looked up at him, and bent down to light the gasoline. Moments later, Hugo lit up and Ken used his phone to stream it live.

"You should have listened to The Dark Lord, Hugo. He is merciful. I am not."

Hugo burned to death as Ken turned his back and walked away.

Notes:

• Ken is a dick. This is intentional. It's what leads to his post-apocalyptic transformation into Ken the Zombie-Eater.
• Ken and Hugo have had a long personal and business relationship. This is what allowed Ken to operate as he has. Hugo got rich telling people Ken's stories, which in genre terms is "Men's Adventure" and thoroughly disrespected by both the Literati in Academia and in Big Publishing. Hugo, like many college-educated writers, is status-obsessed and anxious to the point of dysfunction. Ken not be around for months at a time is why it took a betrayal for him to notice.
• Ken's life is a serial of revenge-taking. His events are as predictable as an action movie, and therefore by this time he's already killed enough people to equal the great heroes of antiquity across all continents. Hugo resents this because the reliable income doesn't translate to the respect he desires.
• Hugo got lovebombed into a cult rather easily, and the cult's leaders (dead by this point at Ken's hands), one that dominated his field and thus wielded major influence (e.g. Scientology). They kept him on a leash as a money spigot by handing him a woman, in classic Honeypot manner.
• "Stabbed in the back" is metaphorical; the cult used Ken's previous enemies as catspaws. "Left to die" is literal, and is why The Dark Lord intervened.
• This is at the cult's annual convention. The rest of the cult's core members are slaughtered by Ken's allies.

I expect a few more goes at this until it's right.