Hi all! Things are still progressing nicely, wracking up new followers (and a few new readers), and that’s awesome to see. I had a few pre-existing contract gigs to take care of this last week or so, but I’ve also almost got the next chunk of fiction carved out and ready to serve up (including naming a few more characters, thanks, backers!).
Keep spreading the word to your sci-fi lovin’ friends, getting them hooked via the short fiction posted so far, and we can still haul this thing up to that sweet, sweet, 250 threshold. :)
--Russell Zimmerman
It began with a flash.
A blip on a sensor screen, a little blinking light that alerted the Boudicca that another ship was approaching them. A sister blink, burning amber instead of green on the sensor screens of the Stalwart. The Stalwart saw the Boudicca. The Boudicca saw the Stalwart. Target locks were exchanged, a tradition between the Democratic Federation Navy—‘The Fleet,’ they were called back home—and the rival, glowering, naval forces of the People’s Military League.
. . .
It began with a flash.
A blip on a sensor screen, a little blinking light that alerted the Boudicca that another ship was approaching them. A sister blink, burning amber instead of green on the sensor screens of the Stalwart. The Stalwart saw the Boudicca. The Boudicca saw the Stalwart. Target locks were exchanged, a tradition between the Democratic Federation Navy—‘The Fleet,’ they were called back home—and the rival, glowering, naval forces of the People’s Military League.
. . .
