Quarantine Exile

So on Monday night Boris Johnson, our prime minister effectively put England into lock down. people are now only allowed to leave their homes for the following reasons;

1. to buy essential basic needs i.e. food shopping
2. for medical needs
3. to care for an at risk person
4. or once per day for a source of exercise.

I've been working from home for over a week now and, well it's really depressing, but it's incredibly important.

This is a really scary time to live in, but we will get through this. It's times like these that people come together and remind us how much good there is in the world, even if some people insist on sending out more bad.

I've been thinking about how much people are doing to help right now, from the retired NHS workers coming back to work, to people giving so much of their money to charity to help and it's inspiring.

There's not much I can do to help, I'm not a doctor and I don't have a lot of money, but one thing I think I can do is take some peoples minds off it, if only for a little while.

With that in mind, if you have an amazon account, I've set my kindle short story 'Exile' to be free from today (Wed 25th/March/2020) until Sunday (29/March/2020).

I only get 5 days a year to make it free or else I'd have put it up until the crisis abated, but this is a good enough cause to use them all up.

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00CELFLC0
US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CELFLC0

It should be available on all Amazon stores, but it is only in English.

And just to reiterate, it will be available until Sunday the 29th of March.

Stay safe and I wish you all the best.

We will get through this stronger than we were before.

Cheers,

 - James

Mikey-tube

Heroics

Hey guys!
I just wanted to post up another couple of scenes from my Exile sidequell, Hero.
If you haven't read Exile yet go here for the UK or here for US to get it on your kindle!

If you haven't read the first part of this story, here it is.

The pirate stepped back, shaking his fist, flexing his fingers. Charlie imagined that the man’s fist must be hurting after so many punches to a man’s face. Sure; Charlie’s cheekbone and nose were broken, he had a bloody split lip, a cut over his eyebrow, a black eye, his teeth were rattling, there was a high pitched ringing in his head that wasn’t necessarily the first sign of a concussion - though Charlie wasn’t prepared to rule it out completely - but poor pirate and his hand.
Charlie spat the blood from his mouth out. He tried to get it on the floor but a mixture of pain and exhaustion had it land on his shoulder. “Captain Charles Crowe. Identification code two-two-three-five-seven-jay.” He mumbled, head lolling forward.
“Yeah, yeah. Know that already.” The pirate sighed, squeezing his hand back into a fist and releasing with a final shake. “Funny thing; we never asked.”
‘We’ again. Charlie thought. Who is ‘we’? It was true, however; they hadn’t asked. So far they hadn’t asked a thing. It was like they didn’t care. Or perhaps they just wanted to weaken him, weaken his resolve before they asked.
Maybe they just enjoyed hurting him?
“I’m sure you must be wondering why we haven’t just killed you.” The pirate rumbled, dropping down into the chair opposite. In a manner of speaking, yes, that was exactly what Charlie was wondering. “You’d think I’d be happy to just tell you. You’re not leaving this place. You’re going to die here.”
He sighed and reached into his breast pocket, pulling out a cigarette. He had to know that Charlie hated the smell of cigarette smoke. You weren’t allowed to smoke in the Navy - too many important things you might accidentally burn - so whenever he visited home and his mother was smoking… He had to know. It was so subtle… or accidental.
That Bastard.
He lit the cigarette up and took in a long drag. He breathed the smoke out and blew it into Charlie’s face. “Still; I’m impressed. Would’a expected one of you Navy boys to crack by now. The other- your crew mates. They’re all just as quiet as you. Pretty impressive.”
Charlie ignored the smoke, he didn’t even cough. Admittedly it was less resilience and more exhaustion. “‘Course your crew mates are all dead. Died when we boarded. On’y reason we di’n’t kill you was, ‘cos you weren’t shootin’ at us.” He was trying to rattle Charlie. Trying to make him emotional, reactionary, but that sort of thing didn’t work on charlie.
Not anymore.
Not in a long time.

~|~

“I don’t understand.” Charlie said, his eyes red and puffy. Tears streamed relentlessly down his cheeks. “We saw him the day before yesterday! He was fine! You must have the wrong person!”
“I’m sorry, Charles.” His mother sighed, placing a hand on his knee. “But Dylan didn’t make it home.”
“You’re wrong!” He shouted again. “He’s joining the Navy! He’s going to become an Admiral! He’s going to stop the pirates!”
Charlie’s mother winced at his son’s outburst. “I’m sorry, Charles, but Dylan is gone.”
Charlie choked on his tears, gasping for breath as he cried deep sobs, turning into his mother and burying his face into the woman’s dress. “Why?” He moaned.
She sighed, wrapping her arms around her only son. “Because... Because sometimes bad things happen when they shouldn’t. To good people who don’t deserve it.”
He cried for hours, holding his mother, heaving deep breaths into her dress, soaking through it until he could cry no more. The whole time she rubbed the back of his head, stroking him gently in a calming motion.
After what felt like an eternity, his throat sore, he asked, “What happened?”
She sighed. “Oh, child...” She squeezed him tight. “It was the pirates. They-” She was cut off by a buzzing from outside his room, the front door. Charlie’s mother looked towards the door with concern and squeezed her son tight before releasing him. She got up and left the boy alone in the room to cry, to blame himself, to wonder what would have happened if Dylan had stayed at the sleepover.
For a moment he fell onto the bed and began to curl up, weeping into his sheets. His friend was gone. Killed by the very pirates he had wanted to stop. Yes, he was fifteen, he shouldn’t cry, but his friend was dead. Snuffed out at a mere twelve years old.
Who could blame him?
He didn’t remain there long however. A scream from below pierced his ears and he leapt from his bed. He forced his way out of his room and thundered down the stairs to find his mother on her knees, weeping, sobbing as a man in a uniform knelt beside her, trying to comfort her.
Charlie looked down at the man, a naval officer. His grim expression, his mothers wailing it could only mean one thing...
“Dad’s dead.” He said. His friend was bad enough... but his dad as well? It was too much. It was too much to be able to feel, too much to want to feel. It was just... just too much, and it broke him. A numbness consumed him, burying deep inside and taking root.
Charlie sat down on the third step from the bottom and closed his mouth, remaining quiet. A calm logic settling over him and taking up residence where his emotions had once sat.

Thanks for reading! More coming soon.

Tubage-I can - like - see everything...
- James

Hero v1

For those of you who are yet to read my short story 'Exile' please go away and read it now, the following contains huge spoilers.

The following is the first two parts of a sidequell short story to Exile. A short story in the same universe set at the exact same time as Exile. I've been writing it in my spare time for a while and wanted to know what you guys think.

So here it is, the first two parts of 'Hero'

“Captain Charles Crowe. Identification code two-two-three-five-seven-jay.” He said, for what felt like the millionth time. His lips were sore, his throat was dry. It was starting to hurt to speak. The split lip, ringing headache and possible concussion didn’t help. Not to mention the ‘aggressive interrogation techniques’ of his captors.

“B’in sayin’ that for six hours now.” The pirate rumbled, basso voice echoing dangerously within the large empty space of the ship’s cargo hold. Six hours? it felt like longer. It felt like he’d been there for days, weeks, months even. Could it really only have been six hours? Or was that another form of interrogation? say its been an hour when it’s been a week, just to make things seem even more hopeless.

Charlie glared up at the pirate. He was tall and hugely muscled - His fists looked to be about the size of Charlie’s head. He was bald with a little stubble, though his hair line appeared to have receded. He had one dark brown eye and one white one, a scar ran straight through the white. He looked like a thug. A mindless thug with passion for naught but the most animalistic of instincts, at least that’s how he looked. His interrogation tactics seemed to prove Charlie wrong. They were subtle, sophisticated, they worked the slow game on him, knowing that he would crack eventually.

Everybody cracks eventually.

Of course there was every possibility Charlie was giving the pirate too much credit. Perhaps it truly had only been six hours and his own mind was putting subtleties where there were none. In fact, The subtleties being in his head made more sense. He wasn't playing with Wren here, after all. It was just a pirate.

"You not ge'in' bored of sayin' that? We're ge'in' bored of 'earin' it." He said.

We? Charlie mused. Who is we?

“Captain Charles Crowe. Identification code two-two-three-five-seven-jay.” He repeated. It made more sense to Charlie than asking the obvious question. He'd already given that much away, there was every chance that he'd give away more on his own.

"You know, I looked you up. Had to, to see if you're worth ransoming." A spark of hope ignited within his chest for a moment. "We offered but they don' wan' you back." And the spark was smothered.

Charlie cursed himself internally. He knew better than to hope. The decision to pay a randsom lay with the grand admiral, and he did not like Charlie. More accurately, he hated Wren's family, and as one of Wren's father's Vassals Charlie's family was just as bad, at least to the grand admiral.

There had been no chance of release, he had raised his hopes for nothing.

Subtlety or not?

“You're from Andal?” He asked. “Went to Andal once, ‘bout ten years ago.” Charlie’s eyes moved up to his captor’s. “‘bout the time you joined up, righ’? Now why was tha’?”

~|~

“That was a great session.” Dylan grinned, stuffing his holo-tab into his rucksack. “What’s gonn’a happen next?”

Wren frowned at the young Elf assassin player. “That would be telling.” He said. “Do you really want me to ruin it?” He opened his eyes wide and and spoke in a grave tone. “For everyone?”

“He doesn’t know yet, Dyl.” Charlie laughed, patting Dylan on the shoulder. “That’s why we do these games a week apart. He has to figure that out.”

“Oh, ok.” Dylan said, rolling his eyes.

“I’ll message you on the holo when I have some idea of what I’m going to do.” Wren promised. “You could run the next game if you want.”

Dylan smiled but shook his head. “I like enjoying the story. I’m not good at that stuff, I just like playing.”

“You sure you can’t stay the night?” The youngest of their group, Magnus, asked as he stepped around the others. “Wren’s dad doesn’t mind.”

Dylan shook his head, turning on his heel and heading towards the door. “Can’t, my Dad’s shipping out in the morning and I want to see him before then.”

The others followed Dylan, passing out of the games room, past the kitchen, through the landing.

“You getting him to find out about taking the military qualification exams early?” Charlie asked, always more aware of what was going on than any other member of their group, except maybe Wren

Wren had always been their groups leader, being from the most prestigious family, but Charlie had always felt more aware of things. He supposed that was the problem with growing up as the first son of an Earl; you didn’t need to know everything because there was always someone there to tell you. Charlie supposed that he, himself was Wren's 'someone'.

That wasn’t to say that Wren wasn’t smart, from what Charlie could tell he was incredibly smart, he’d just never had to try hard. Never had to prove himself.

Charlie wasn't a nobleman. Well, no, that wasn't true. He was of the nobility, but barely. Most of e true, old nobility saw him as nothing more than a commoner. His father was a vassal of Wren’s, Senior Admiral of the Navy, beholden to the Earls and the Emperor of the Mao-Winsor empire - though his loyalty to Wren's father always seemed to come first. Everything he had, he’d worked for. Everything he had, he’d earned. Nothing had been given to him. But that didn’t matter to Charlie. Wren was his friend, that was enough.

They followed Dylan down the stairs to the front doors and out into the late evening. Dylan walked over to his two-pad skimmer, still resting by the wall where he'd discarded it upon arrival.

He righted it and brushed off of the handle bars before securing his rucksack and climbing on. The hover craft turned on automatically, responding to his weight. Dylan stood with the skimmer between his legs and looked over at his friends.

“I’ll see you guys next week.” Dylan promised. He leaned forward and shot off down the path towards the main gate.

The three of them watched him go, seeing him to the gate and then watching it crack slightly to allow him to leave. "Little Dylan in the navy." Wren commented, smiling as they made their way back into the house proper. House was the wrong word for it, of course. Houses didn't have wings. Wren's fathers home was a mansion, elegant, sophisticated and completely pointless. Charlie used to play hide and seek in the house with Wren and there had been tens of rooms, maybe hundreds that had been empty or used for storage.

It seemed so silly to Charlie, but then he wasn't a wealthy nobleman. Maybe Wren knew exactly what each thing was for, but Charlie doubted it.

"I'm not sure whether to be proud or very worried." Wren continued.

"Worried?" Magnus repeated, confusion in his voice as wren led them into the drawing room. Charlie didnt understand why they called it that, nobody ever did any drawing in there. They just watched holo-net in there. Cartoons and stuff. Nobody else spent any time in there, just Wren and his friends.

"Were you not playing with us in there?" Wren asked, laughing. “Dyl’s fun but he’s not subtle. I’m proud of him for joining up, don’t get me wrong. takes a braver man than me to put his life on the line like that, but I’m not sure I’d want him with his finger on any triggers.”

“I don’t know.” Charlie shrugged, turning the holo-projector on. “I think he’ll do alright.”

The holo-net lit up the room with cartoons, but only for a moment. a moment later a news report took over, emergency broadcast logos cycling across the bottom and top. “We interrupt your regularly scheduled holo-net interactions to bring you breaking news; ships of unknown origin have appeared on our sensors. We advise that everyone to make their way to their nearest shelter.” The reporter said. “In other news, nude photos of teen singing sensation Mika Moore were discovered today, stay tuned for an exclusive look as we stay with you throughout this ordeal.”

“Wait, what?” Magnus asked. “ships? shelter?”

“It’s fine.” Wren said, waving aside the problem and sitting down on the sofa, a little too eager to watch the news. “Its probably just an economy personnel carrier that forgot to book a landing.” He shrugged, eyes returning to the holo as the story about Mika Moore continued.

Chalie’s eyes locked onto the news report for a few moments when the pictures were displayed, but as soon as they were taken back down he returned to the conversation. “If it was serious, my dad would come get us.”

The banging of doors and pounding of footsteps almost seemed as though it was on queue. No sooner had Wren assured them that his father would come get them had they heard the rumble of his entourage searching and the basso echo of the Earl of Andal calling for them. “Wren!” His father called.

Wren’s eyes widen and he leaps up, waving a hand towards the holo-display, shutting it down and making the naked pictures of Mika Moore disappear. “In here dad.” He called.

The foot falls thundered down the hall to the drawing room and the doors burst open to allow Wren’s father and his entourage to enter. The High Lord rushed over to his son and clutched him tight. “Thank goodness.” He sighed. “Boys.” He nodded to Charlie and Magnus. Come, we need to get to the shelter.”

“The shelter?” Wren asked, concerned. Charlie frowned, looking around at the faces of the others. Something was very wrong. “What’s happening?”

“There’s a pirate attack.” Wren’s father explained, practically dragging him from the room.

“What?” Magnus asked, fear creeping into his voice.

“How did they get here?” Wren complained. “What about the sensors? The defences?”

What about Dylan? Charlie thought, following behind and trying to keep up.

“Long range sensors registered them as trade ships, a convoy we’d been expecting for the last couple of days.” His father explained.

“What about Dylan?” Charlie said, perhaps too quietly.

“We let them in. Our defences are rebooting, until they’re done we need to get into the Shelter.” Wren’s father explained.

Charlie frowned and said a little louder. “What about Dylan?” But nobody listened. His frown deepened and he stopped. “What about Dylan?” He all but shouted. Everyone stopped and turned to look at him. “What about all the commuters? What about people in their homes? What about all the people out playing football?” He paused, looking between the people. “What about Dylan? He was on his way home.”

Wren’s father let go of his son and walked over to Charlie “He’ll be okay.” the Lord promised him, holding the shoulders of his adolescent son’s best friend. Charlie was a little taller than Wren’s father, but he still looked down on him with an air of authority. “We’ve put all the hyper-lanes into shelter mode, all of the foot traffic have been directed to shelters and all of the speeders have been locked into auto-travel and taken to the nearest shelter.”

Charlie opened his mouth to argue. What if he fell off his speeder? what if the pirates got to him first? What if he hadn’t been anywhere that would hear the shelter call?

But how could they do anything now? They didn’t know where he was to help him. They just had to hope he’d be okay. Charlie nodded. He was sure it’d be fine. Nothing bad ever happened to the people you knew, it was always other people, abstract people on the news and holo-net.

He took a breath and nodded again. “Okay, sorry.” He said as a loud explosion sounded outside the building, rattling the floor.

“Sir.” One of the guards said. “We need to get to-” the room rattled with another explosion. “Need to get to the shelter.”

“Agreed.” Mister Lian-Cheng said, motioning for everyone to go ahead of him.

There was another, teeth rattling explosion. It was so close that his ears rang. It boomed louder and louder and-

Everything went black.
I hope you enjoyed that! Look out for more updates on Hero, hopefully coming to Kindle before the end of the year.

Honest-Tubage - and another
- James

The Moon Landing

Not the one you were thinking.
On September the 14th in 1959 (ten years before Apollo eleven landed six men on the moon) the first man made object touched down on the surface of the moon.
Luna 2 was a Soviet spacecraft that was launched to the moon (aptly named, I think you will agree). It was (obviously) the second attempt in the Soviet Luna program, but the first in the series to land on the moon. Not only was it the first in the series, but it was the first man made object to ever land on the surface of the moon or any other celestial body.
On September 14th 1959 at 00:02:24 in Moscow Luna 2 touched down, about 800 kilometres from the centre of the moon's visible side. It took a direct path to the moon with a journey time of roughly 36 hours, taking off while the moon was at it's farthest point.
On impact the craft scattered soviet emblems and ribbons across the surface t omark it as a Russian achievement before, 30 minutes later, making it's own crater on the moon.

In the grand scheme of things this wasn't one of the human races biggest achievements. Since then we've built space stations, landed men on the moon, landed probes on other planets, built great big things, made ungodly technological advances, cured diseases...
But right back at the beginning of it was Luna 2. The first man made object to land on another world. Would the world be the same today if that had never happened?
If it had never spurred the Soviet Union on, would America have put men on the moon? would people have been inspired to create science fiction? would they have been inspired into creating science fact?

I don't know. Nobody can know for sure.

Regardless, I think it's a date worth celebrating.
On the 13th of September until the 15th of September my science fiction short story for Amazon Kindle will be free.
Enjoy.

Exile in the UK

Exile in the US

Tubage-the news was funniest
- James

P.S. Yes this entire post was a long promo for my short story being free, but all of it was true regardless. It's well worth celebrating.

P.P.S. I've seen a lot of other blogs do the following, so enjoy.

 

Hero

So last week I started work on Exile's sidequell. Yes, Sidequell is a word... now... Basically its a sequel set at the exact same time as Exile. 'How does that work?' You ask? Well, Exile was only one small part of the whole story. An important part, to be sure, but not the only thing that happened. In this short story I hope to explore some of the unanswered questions.
Questions like 'How did the pirates organise?' 'Why did the pirates attack the empire?' and 'How did they do so well?'

I'm writing the story in a very similar way to exile and from the perspective of a character that was in it, though, one that was not fully explored.
I'm not going to say which character, since saying so might ruin the first story for anyone who hasn't read it - but should have - but suffice to say it's an integral plot character that Wren interacts with.

The story will take place from the time of Wren's childhood, though not necessarily one of his friends. It will take place from then up until the last moments of Exile.

Fingers crossed it will be loved by everyone and it will answer some un-answered (or asked) questions.

Tubage
- James

Reviews to date

Since i have nothing better to say I thought I'd be a little self centred and post the reviews I've got of Exile to date. I've only had reviews in the UK and USA (as far as I know) so I'll post them.

Currently I'm at 4.7 stars out of 5 on Amazon.co.uk with the following reviews:

Bungy:
5 Star"very good book enjoyed every second of my read ended to soon would look for this auther again hope next book would be longer"

Paul Carrott:
5 Star
"This was one of the most captivating reads I have had in a long time time.

You feel part of this rather gripping story, one of the characters almost. The story itself is fun, bouncy, captivating and at times could be described as quite emotional. A very cleverly written and highly imaginative piece that I would recommend to anyone looking for a good mesmerising read and an escape to another galaxy!

Unfortunately I do have one complaint... It is a short story and I was left wanting more!

I hope this author has plenty more up his sleeve and I truly hope others get the chance to experience this fresh new writer. I will be recommending to others. Well worth buying!"

Chris Armstrong:
4 Star
"I really enjoyed reading this short story, but the problem was it was too short. There are so many different parts to this story still to be explored. But, it left me wanting more an you can't say fairer than that!"

I have a 3.7 star rating on Amazon.com

Liz
5 Star
"Not usually my sort of short story, but this one drew me in. The characters are believable and identifiable. The story is gripping and full of emotion and excitement. I fully recommend this amazing read!"

Wilson Kellie
4 Star
"All in all, I found this to be a good story and I enjoyed it up to the end. I had a bit of trouble in the beginning getting into the story because it seemed to jump around quite a bit. The formatting could have been a bit better and there were some spelling and grammar errors though nothing major enough to interfere with the understanding of the story. The plot twist I suspected by about halfway through the story but I was still pleasantly surprised with how it worked out by the end of the story.

Though it took some time to get a feel for the separate characters it was a good science fiction read. By the end I was well invested in the main character as well as curious about the setting which displayed a nice depth despite the short length of the story."

Dieter Rudolph
2 Star
"Not being a Star Wars fan in any way or shape, this is not a book for me. However, it will appeal to may people."

Other than that last review I'm quite pleased with the responses, and my problem with the last isn't that its a low star review its the reason for it. If I'd misrepresented the story or they thought it was poorly writen or something I wouldn't have cared, but they just dont like sci fi, so they're marking down a science fiction story... makes little sense to me.

Zero-Tube-Punctuation
- James

First weekend

So my short has been online for 4 days now I think, three of them for free. today is the last day you can recieve Exile for free on Kindle.

At this point I've had three reviews, one on .co.uk and two on .com. On .co.uk my rating is 5 star and on .com its 4.5, both of which are pretty good and all the reviews have been quite positive. I even got a twitter message about it from one of the reviewers, which is nice.

As of this moment the downloads are as follows;
Paid, 2 in the US and 8 in the UK
Free,
US - 184
UK - 47
DE - 10
IT - 2
JP - 1
CA - 2
So overall that's 246 people who have Exile on their kindles. Really not bad considering its my first thing, I'm completely unknown and its such a un-recognised genre as Science fiction.

For a while over the weekend I was number 8 in the charts for free science fiction short stories. Thats good, right? top ten!

So yeah, fun times this weekend, hopefully the purchase rate will keep up into the time when it's pay to read.

That's all I got.

Tubage
- James

Kindle Exile

Hi guys!
So yesterday my short story went up on Amzon to buy for Kindle!
Yes! Seriously! How awesome is that?!

And that's not all. For the next four days (friday, saturday sunday and monday) it's completely free so get out there and 'buy' it. Read it and review it. preferably positively, but I can't really make you enjoy it.

I don't really have much else totalk about today, so that's it. Here's the link to Exile on Amazon.co.uk and .com:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00CELFLC0

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CELFLC0

Tubage
- James

Exile

So I'm uploading my first short story to Amazon on friday (assuming I finish editing in time, but I only have a few pages left so it should be fine). It's come quite a long way with plot and wording and hopefully speelingand grammar.
I'm not allowed to post it up here in it's entirety as I'm going to let Amazon call it a Kindle exclusive so I get slightly more for it, btu I am going to put up a sample. It's the same sample I put up before but edited and re-written to be a part of our future not Galledar's.

I hope to put it up on Kindle for about £0.99/$1.50 It's about 100 kindle pages (at default font size) should be awesome. Anyone who reas this I urge you to be awesome and buy it.

Anyway, here's the sample:

“The elf known as Draegon waits as he listens to the hacked com-frequency of the enemy security personnel. He kneels atop the building and listens for the right moment, when the enemy says the words ‘all clear’. Aiming down the scope of his rifle, a smirk slides across his features; he hears it. The enemy indicates to him that they’re vulnerable, that they’re relaxed and he pulls the trigger, sending the sniper rifle’s bullet soaring straight down at the target. It hits him right between the-” Dylan narrated.

“Wait,” Wren said. Raising a hand to his elven role playing friend. “Roll a dee-ten on whichever’s higher; Dex or Luck.”

“What? Come on, it’s a gun, not a sword. It doesn’t take skill to use, it’s got targeting systems,” Dylan argued, waving a hand at his elf hit-man character sheet as it floated above the holo-projector.

Wren raised an eyebrow. “This is set in the twentieth century, or the technological equivalent of Earth’s twentieth century. They didn’t have targeting systems for rifles back then. Just like they didn’t have laser pistols or commercial space travel. Your character looks down the scope - which really isn’t anything more than a zoom lens – and fires when he thinks that the bullet will hit the target.”

“Ugh…” Dylan groaned. “Fine.” He pressed a finger to the dice menu on his holo-display and dragged down to the ten sided die. He released and a short animation of a rolled die appeared, landing on a one. “Aw crap. Eight on Luck”

“Ok, you fire the gun and it misses the Orc president, hitting the elven president next to him….” Wren reached for his own holo-display and rolled a dee-six. It came up as a two. “In the arm.”

“Dammit,” Dylan cursed again.

“At least you didn’t kill him,” Magnus, the youngest of their group, consoled him as he sat forward to get a good look at the pieces on the table. “Okay,” he said, looking up at Wren behind his Quest Master divider. “I look around and see if there are any security bots-”

“No security bots, not invented,” the fourth member of their group, Charlie, reminded his friend.

“Right.” Magnus nodded, looking around the table’s figures. “Sorry.”

“Didn’t we already cut off their coms anyway? How would they call in backup?” Charlie asked.

“There could be things already in the area.” Magnus shrugged. “We only cut long range communication, their personal coms- er- ‘Walkie-talkies’ still work.”

Charlie shrugged, admitting his ignorance. “Try helicopters,” he offered in recompense. He turned to Wren. “Am I saying that right?”

“Yeah.” Wren agreed. “You want to look for helicopters?” He asked Magnus. The youngster nodded. “Ok, roll a dee-ten on perception.”

Magnus rolled his holo-dice and it came up as a nine. He looked up at his Dwarf investigator’s character sheet and read out his perception total. “Sixteen,” he said.

“Ok, cool. You don’t see any helicopters, they’re not allowed in the area because they were considered a security hazed, what with the Orc and Elven presidents appearing at the same time. You do, however, see a security sniper on the opposite building.”

“Why didn’t we see him before?” Dylan asked, frowning.

“You didn’t look.” Wren shrugged. “He’s looking around for the shooter and turning to look in your direction.”

“I use a cloaking spell to cover all three of us,” Charlie said quickly, reaching for his dee-ten. “Rolling against intelligence…” he looked up for confirmation that it was ok. Wren nodded and Charlie let the dee-ten roll. “Five,” he announced, scrolling through his human wizard’s character sheet. “Plus my seven; twelve.”

“Okay, the shield goes up over you, but it doesn’t extend to the others,” Wren described.

“If we stand behind him what happens?” Dylan asked.

“They see through him and see you,” Wren responded. Dylan frowned and looked down at the map.

“Is the sniper’s building higher than ours?” Magnus asked. “How far away is he?”

Wren smiled. “Marginally higher and pretty far.”

“Okay, I lay down by the lip of the building, where he can’t see me.” Dylan said.

“Me as well,” Magnus added.

“Ok, roll against either; Dex, Int, Perception or Luck.”

“Dee-ten?” Dylan asked. Wren nodded. The two of them rolled dee-tens and both came up as ten. They rolled again. Dylan got sixteen overall and Magnus got eighteen. “That’s twenty-three on luck.”

“Twenty-five on perception,” Magnus responded.

“Both of you manage to hide from the sniper and he passes over the three of you.”

“Now I’m going to take my sniper rifle and fire on him. The sniper.” Charlie decided, pointing at the piece on the table. He reached up and rolled a dee-ten against his dexterity. It came up as a nine. “Sixteen.” He said, looking up at Wren expectantly.

Wren grins. “You shoot him.” Wren rolled a dee-six, it came up as a one. “In the head. Roll luck.”

Charlie complied, getting another nine. “Thirteen.”

“And not a soul knew where the shot came from.” Wren narrated.

“Awesome,” Magnus exclaimed.

A ringing sounded on Wren’s holo. He frowned at it, time was up. He pressed it off. “Well I guess that’s all for this week. Meet back here same time next week?”

The ringing sounded again, this time it sounded higher, less like a ring more like a siren. He frowned at it again and pressed the off button, but it wouldn’t turn off. He started shaking and he realised that Magnus was holding his shoulders. The table was gone, Magnus was in its place, shaking him. “Wren, snap out of it,” he said.

Wren frowned at the youngster and watched as he rapidly aged. He blinked and the room was gone. Young Magnus was gone. Young Wren was gone. He was aboard Thor-class Imperial War ship ‘Relentless’, Magnus was thirty-one, he was thirty-three and they were under attack.

“Sir, you’re alive. Good,” Magnus said, stepping back as Wren blinked.

He took in a few deep breaths and focussed on Magnus’ knife sharp features. He was light skinned with wrinkles around his eyes. His jet black hair had a dusting of grey collecting at the temples, cut short and cropped to navy regulations.

Magnus’ eyes were a soft green that seemed to comfort those who looked into them, despite the serious expression that was plastered across his face at all times.

The Executive Officer looked remarkably different to his friend. Wren’s hair was mostly grey with patches of rusty red marring his otherwise silver mane. His hair had started going grey when he’d gained his Admiralty at twenty-six, more than likely a mark of stress, though there was every chance it could have simply been genetics. Wren’s hard grey eyes matched his hair so well that he was surprised whenever he saw pictures of himself with locks of a different colour.

Wren ran his hand through his hair to check for any blood, but the short crop remained dry. Hopefully no concussion. He checked the rest of his strong features, finding a cut on his eyebrow and chin that would likely become scars. If he’d been allowed to grow a beard he might have had a problem with the wounds but he’d be clean shaven until he retired, so why worry?

He let out a long breath and forced himself back to his feet, getting his bearings. The circuits in his command seat had blown and he’d been sent flying across the once pristine command deck floor, marring it with blood from the wounds on his face and a large gash on his back. Blood dripped down Wrens face while Magnus by comparison seemed unharmed.

The X.O. - Wren’s oldest living friend - gripped his shoulders and looked worriedly into his eyes. “Admiral, are you good to go? Admiral, can you tell me your name?”

“Wren Lian-Cheng. Admiral Wren Lian-Cheng” Wren recalled, nodding. “High Lord of the Mau-Winsor Imperium. Second Earl of Andal. I don’t have a concussion. Report! What’s our status?”

“Sir,” Magnus responded, saluting and turning to face the holo-displays. “Three pirate war ships including the supposedly destroyed Imperial Hunter-Class destroyer, Jeopardy,” Wren’s eyes widened and he looked up at the screens. How the hell did they get a hold of Charlie’s ship? It’d been eight years since Charlie and his crew had been blown out of the sky… and yet there it was; the ship they had been flying in when it had happened. It still had the scars on its hull from their final engagement.

“Six cruisers and five carriers remain; they have a hundred and fifty fighters. Their assault has taken us down to only a handful of fighters-”

“Sixty, sir,” a junior officer called from his post. The man stood in front of his console, chair knocked away from him in the assault.

“Sixty fighters remain,” Magnus continued. “We’ve lost the Indomitable and the Victory and the only carrier that remains is The Quartz.”

“How the hell did they amass such a force?” Wren cursed, looking up at the holo-displays. He watched as fighters exploded and the last carrier came under heavy assault. “Dammit, we can’t win this.”

“Sir?”

“Sound the retreat,” Wren sighed, shaking his head.

“Sir, the carrier only holds thirty fighters and we have-” Magnus’ eye flicked to the holo-displays. “Fifty seven still out there.”

“Tell the others to clamp onto the outside of our hull,” Wren ordered. “It won’t be a fun journey for them but they’ll survive.”

“Yes sir,” Magnus agreed, motioning to a junior officer.

“Set co-ordinates T.Z. via New Beijing,” Wren ordered, watching allied ships explode on the holo displays in eerie silence as the fighters disengaged and desperately tried to latch onto Wren’s ship.

“We’re returning to the core sir?” Magnus asked.

Wren nodded. “On the off chance that this isn’t a fluke and the pirates have become more organised; the Emperor needs to know.”

His eye twitched as he watched a group of fighters commence a strafing run across the side of his ship shredding several of his defenceless fighters to pieces. It wasn’t a good plan. It wasn’t a smart plan. It wasn’t an honourable plan. It was pure survival. “Ready, sir,” Magnus said.

“Make the jump.”

“Sir.” Magnus nodded to a junior officer and the ship shuddered. The holo-displays showed The Quartz zip out of existence, Relentless following a painstaking moment later. A couple of fighters that hadn’t clamped on properly ripped from the hull and were instantly disintegrated by the kinetic energy caused by the ships high velocity.

He cursed and closed his eyes, turning away. “Full casualty report,” he said, placing his hands on his hips.

“We don’t have it, sir,” Magnus apologised. “We won’t have it until The Quartz tallies their dead.”

Wren nodded. “An estimate then?”

Magnus took a long slow breath to steady himself against the information; his eyes scanned across the ominously glowing display and he read aloud, “Full crew of The Indomitable, one-thousand-two-hundred men. Full crew of The Victory, one-thousand-two-hundred men. Full crew of The Obsidian, The Hematite, The Amethyst and The Jasper, Two-thousand-six-hundred-and-Fifty-Six men. One-hundred-and-seven one man fighters. An estimated twenty-five percent death rate aboard The Quartz, though we’ll have to wait for their report for specific information.”

“And on Relentless?” Wren asked, already cursing himself for his failure.

“Lower three decks have hull breach, we had an explosion in the med bay and the primary cannon’s engineering room. Reports are still coming in, but I’d estimate that we lost three-hundred men,” Magnus responded.

Wren cursed. Magnus’s estimations were usually accurate. He had truly, colossally failed. An estimated five-thousand-six-hundred-and-seventy-five out of seven-thousand-and-seventy lives lost. More than an eighty percent death rate. He hadn’t had such a crushing defeat since his simulated battles against Charlie at the academy.

“Estimated time to arrival at New Beijing?” Wren asked.

“Two hours,” Magnus responded.

“Very well” Wren nodded, rubbing his tired, blood shot eyes. “Send the holo recording of the battle to my cabin, make sure the spaced levels are sealed, get the fires out and contact me when we have an exact casualty rate.”

“Very well, sir,” Magnus nodded.

“X.O. Magnus, you have command,” Wren said before turning and walking off of the bridge.

Hopefully you enjoyed that and you will buy the kindle short story to find out how and why the book is called Exile and what happens with jeopardy.

Cheers
Awesome-Video
- James

Kit Ironsmith Narrative done

So far I think the hardest part about the development of this game has been writing out the main narrative. it's the basis that everythign else stems from and everything requires it, from the assets needed to the quests that need to be designed; the narrative affects them all and getting a strong narrative from the start that makes sense has no holes and works with all elements is a difficult process.
I have now finished the first draft and the outline, so I've got to work working on a list of assets and the in detail mission points for each chapters.

We haven't yet figured out what program we're goign to be using, but at the moment it looks like either Gamesalad or Unity. Gamesalad looks like it'd be easier to use as it works with block behaviours like a program I got heavily into at uni called virtools which we used to make a third person 3D platform game.
However Unity would allow us to do a lot more. it'd be harder, I'd have to either bring a coder into our group or learn to code, but that would be really good for me, it would add to my experience, skills and portfolio.
I'm leaning towards unity if I can figure it out, it is free until you want to publish at least, I think it lets you publiish to PC for personal reasons for free, so i'll be able to use it as a portfolio piece without publishing, which would be nice.

Art is coming along and we'll hopefully have an office for kit ready soon. we've been looking at animated gifs and have kit blinking but I'm hoping by the time we're through we'll have something more adventurous, waving perhaps? I'm not sure. Regardless I'm hopeful.

In other news I plan to upload Exile, my sci-fi short story to Amazon to be reviewed and then published to kindle on the 19th of April. I'm getting some feedback from my friends and hope to be able to incorporate it all before then. I have a cover and I'm looking forward to my second self publishing attempt. it's a good feeling that this time it's actually a good story. My most critical friend even said 'It's well written' and sad that one part was very sad :)

Anyway, enjoy your weekend.

Tubage
- james