​Hello!

Hope you liked the piratey tale last month with Captain Fabian and her crew. Could see that story turning into a one-off novel at some point.

Got a quick progress update and a heavier, topical story today.

​Progress/Life Update

Been plugging away at National Novel Writing Month at a slower pace than I'd like. World events have weighed heavily on my mind, so focusing has been a challenge. Shifted a lot of story ideas and plans because of it.

My original idea/layout for Phoenix Company Book 2, that I cooked up before Book 1 released, felt good, but needed some work. In typical me fashion, it had A LOT going on. I had a wave of inspiration and made some hard cuts that make me feel a lot better about it now. Very likely that I plug away at that since the iron is hot instead of Nexus 99, but we'll see.

Arcane returned on Netflix with the first part of season 2. It's taking it's time building, but I'm very interested in what they're cooking. Always a pleasure to see something lovingly crafted by people who are very adept at what they do. I can really feel the sense of every frame a painting in the aesthetic and art design on top of everything else they've meticulously layered in.

Hey, Freelancers!

Lina Ro'Shaer here with this month's Bullet Points.
 

The Age of Determination earned its name because the galaxy shed the Alvor’s rule in favour of whatever they decided in terms of governance. While most succumbed to the allure of kings, queens, emperors, theocrats, and other fancy hats, some oddballs landed on opposite ends of the spectrum with unionism and anarcho-capitalism.

With that in mind, it is with a heavy heart that I report the Terin Republic elected an authoritarian leader who promised them they’d never have to vote again.

Heralded as a proof of concept that democracy could work in a galaxy enamoured with feudalism, knights, and royalty, their system fell victim to a populist campaign, rife with misinformation and no regard for the truth, that subtly and not-so-subtly promised to dismantle or subvert the very institutions that gave the people power and a say.

Spurned once before, the leader previously whipped his followers into a frenzy and watched as the mob descended on anyone who opposed the would-be tyrant. An ill omen as he recently made cryptic remarks telling his people to “stand by”.

To anyone and everyone, it takes a lot of time and effort to cultivate something good. And genuinely good things are worth fighting for in this crazy galaxy. Not once in a while or only when it’s threatened. Every day.

Arm yourselves with knowledge, and don’t give up. A lot of things that seem strong are more fragile than you’d think. You can’t always see the cracks before it’s too late. As long as it takes to build something good, it can all burn to ash in a fraction of the time.

Time for me to scour the extranet for info on why my ksala plant isn’t sprouting. As a Zyldari, it brings me great shame to see it so neglected. I owe it to my species to keep it alive.

Protect who and what you love, freelancers. It’s worth the effort.

Elder's Wisdom

​

The rays of Terin’s dawn found a fresh path into the dense, ancient forest. Smoke and flame billowed off the husks of immense broken trees and loose autumn leaves. Animals and other interested parties emerged to investigate the clearing where a large crashed shuttle with government insignias lay.

The colonel came to behind an overturned table inside. With her ears ringing, she reached a hand over to collect her beret that the blast knocked off her head. Her soldier instincts took over and pulled her to her feet.

“Status report!”

The ship’s co-pilot, nursing a broken arm, emptied an extinguisher into a burning piece of hull. “Still in it, colonel. Can’t say as much for our pilot and some others, though.”

The colonel limped across the shuttle’s blasted out briefing room and surveyed the carnage. Noting several figures huddled off to the side, she approached and laid eyes on the chief of security’s torn body. Her last memory before the blast flashed through her mind. The chief heard the hissing and shoved as many as he could behind the heavy table before her world went dark.

Turning to the former minister of education as he struggled to stem the bleeding, the colonel grabbed a towel and applied a tourniquet. “What the hell happened? Is this an accident or sabotage?”

He lifted a shaking hand to wipe the sweat from his brow. The artery he stopped applying pressure to sprayed blood across his face. “I don’t… Just… give me some space, will ya? You’re in my light.”

She got to her feet and backed up, taking in the sight of the rapidly fading security chief who saved their lives by sacrificing his own.

The colonel wandered into the smoke-filled corridors and coughed. A soot-covered child wandered by, shouting for her mom. She passed a side room where an aide reactivated the comm station. A quick scan of the channels found a broadcast from the capital.

Their new leader’s voice filled the broken ship as he addressed his supporters. “We did it, my beautiful people. You all made it happen. Even though our work to chase out those losers who ran with their tails between their legs and make Terin great again is just starting, I just want to say, my beautiful people… you’re so special. I love you all.” Their shouts and cheers echoed above the fires still burning around the shuttle. “And I know you all love me.” You could hear his smug grin stretching from ear to ear in his voice as the crowd cheered even harder.

With a clenched jaw, the colonel stomped over. “Turn that shit off!”

Before she could mash the controls, the aide moved to intercept. “No! This gear barely survived as is. We need it to send out a distress signal.”

The colonel stepped back and pointed a stern finger. “Use your head. If this was a targeted hit, an open distress call is an open invitation letting them know where to find us. Scan the old channels we used to organize people late in the campaign. Just gotta hope someone’s still friendly out there. And sane.”

Another coughing fit took hold as she stepped out of the ruptured hull into the ancient forest. A chorus of birds who hadn’t migrated south for winter yet flew by overhead as small critters paused their collection duties to see what these curious creatures were up to.

Catching her breath, she noticed a banged up but well-dressed woman sitting on a nearby stump with her head in her hands.

The colonel narrowed her eyes and approached. “What do you think, senator? Still weighing the pros and cons? Entertaining ‘both sides’? Trusting a system that our opponents used and abused without a shred of respect for anybody who isn’t them? Gonna write off this crash as an accident, or are you ready to face facts?”

Nursing a fierce headache for more reasons than just the blast, the senator rubbed her temples. “We’re supposed to listen to everybody and show respect even if we’re not receiving as much. There will be an investigation into the explosion. As a former judge, I won’t throw out accusations without proof. I’m a politician, not a seer. How were we supposed to know it would turn out like this?”

The colonel’s eyes flared, and she kicked the senator into the dirt. “We knew because that criminal, his cronies, and his cult spent years telling us exactly who they were and what they would do if they won! We’re supposed to reject tyranny, not hide behind bullshit civility and let it fester. Now, all you complacent, navel-gazing fence-sitters and those delusional, servile simpletons are going to make the people who actually give a damn watch as that buffoon has his way and ruins everything the founders bled for!”

Hearing the shouting outside, a few others dove in to pull the colonel away before she could do more damage. The senator’s aide shoved her and pointed a stern finger. “Get away from her! You antagonizing everyone didn’t help before and it’s not helping now! We lost and there’s nothing we can do. This isn’t a war.”

The colonel stepped forward and gestured to the wrecked ship and bodies piled up outside. “Aren’t we?! Did the crash make you forget what they did to the protesters we promised to protect right before we took off?”

As the tension in the air reached a crescendo, a war cry echoed around the forest. A sudden gust of wind lifted the autumn leaves off the ground and whipped them around in a blinding flurry. When they settled, a group of tribal warriors painted with red and yellow woad surrounded the survivors with spears raised and arrows knocked.

The colonel drew her pistol, but everyone else froze in place, razor sharp dragon glass inches from their necks. They were so rattled, they forgot this forest belonged to the Anathul. The Primal or Wild Elves.

Distant drums reverberated off the trees as an energetic song carried across the wind. Leaves parted once more, and a figure coalesced from the earth. Before them stood an Anathul elder. Draped in vestments magically crafted as a gift from the land itself with a trio of brilliant emeralds hovering around his crown of antlers, the wizened elf leaned on a gnarled staff that thrummed with power.

He spoke in a gravelly voice laced with the spirits of those who came before. “As if your people’s malevolent echoes didn’t disturb us enough, now you bodily defile our forest without a care. Have you discordant songbirds committed to breaking your oath?”

The senator took a deep breath and stepped forward with her hands up. “A thousand apologies, elder. We meant no disrespect. There was an awful acci—“ She caught the colonel’s stony gaze burrowing into her. “I can’t explain right now, but I promise we would never do this willingly. Please, we have many wounded and—”

Elven warriors tensed and shifted as a small child ran out of the wreck. The senator screamed, “No!” as her son ran toward the elder. The kid flinched as one warrior moved to strike, but another blocked the vicious blade. With striking eyes filled with hues from the season of their birth, the fiery fighters pressed their weapons into each other to see who would yield. A wave of the elder’s hand bid them to disengage. They seemed disciplined to the likes of the colonel, but that moment’s hesitation spoke volumes for the elves.

Holding a charred stuffed animal and playing with its broken tail, the senator’s son stepped up to the elder. “Sorry to bother you… but we had to run away from the bad people and now we can’t go home. Can we please stay here and play in the trees?”

Tears formed in the senator’s eyes as she raised a hand to hide a quivering lip.

The elder took in the myriad emotions the survivors expressed and let out a deep sigh. He leaned on his staff and placed a weathered hand on the kid’s head. “Life moves in cycles, little one. In time, all that hurts will heal. All that lives will die. The darkest night blooms into a new dawn for people and civilizations alike. How we find balance within nature’s chaos is what matters.”

He turned toward the rest of the survivors. “We are not blind to the ebbs and flows of those beyond our borders. We hear your songs. We feel your blights even before they spill into our forest. We remember the time when many under the stars blindly followed those you call Ancients. We remember the time when they shed their masks, and all saw how little their masters cared for those they held stewardship over. We felt the galaxy’s shock and anguish as we do now.”

The colonel lowered her weapon. She and the senator regarded this strange elf, wondering just how old could he be.

After another signal for the rest of his warriors to lower their weapons, he continued, “Allow yourselves space for the tempest within your hearts to pass before it consumes you. Just don’t let despair take root. The loss of hope is true defeat. As long as there is fire within… Raku thanyyr!” He pounded a fist to his chest with such force that leaves lifted off the ground and fell from the canopy above. “There is a way. Apathy is true death. Too much nothing to even serve as carrion.”

The emeralds around his crown shifted to the staff and levitated it out of his hands. He touched the shoulder of the two warriors who clashed earlier while still facing the survivors. “If you are worthy stewards, know this. It requires the dedicated hands of many to guide an arrow where it needs to go. Divided, we wither. Together, we endure.”

He grabbed the staff floating in the air. “Just do me this kindness... and endure elsewhere.” The elder turned and walked back into the woods as the warriors stowed their weapons and helped the survivors.

After she hugged her child close, the senator locked eyes with the colonel. It wasn’t a war, they hadn’t lost it all yet, but they knew they had a lot of work to do.