NEW BOOK SNEAK PEEK - A GREATER PUZZLE, Chapter 1

 Asgard Base, Callisto

Neptune was waiting.  Knowing this tested Captain Celia Grey’s patience.  Sitting through this briefing by the Admiralty was low on her list of things to do.   However, it would be unwise to let her impatience be seen in this situation.  Admirals disliked it when their officers expressed displeasure with their briefings.  Even when the briefing could have been a communique.

Later, as they walked through the corridors together Grey said, “Let’s keep an eye on that ensign who flew me over.  With a little more seasoning he might be a good addition to our crew.”

Especially when this could have been a communique, Grey thought to herself.  She dared a hint of a wry smile.  Her XO pretended not to notice, but she did.  It was the XO’s job to notice things.

Captain Grey and her Executive Officer Commander Christine Phillips sat at a conference table.  The table was in a briefing room in a dome located at Asgard Base.  Asgard Base itself was the headquarters for the Benevolent and Protective Order of Explorers.  The Order, commonly referred to as the BPOE, was the post-military organization chartered by the Coalition of Human Worlds to explore, render aid, and keep the peace between the worlds of the Solar System.  

Asgard Base was on Jupiter’s moon Callisto and had become the new home for BPOE Headquarters some fifteen years prior.  The decision to move headquarters from Mars came only after extraterrestrial life had been found on Saturn’s moon Titan.  Before that discovery the base had been an outpost that largely supported the Jovian atmospheric mining operations.  Occasionally, Asgard had served as a waystation to support BPOE vessels on Outer System Patrol.

This briefing that the captain and her XO found themselves in was for something entirely different from any of those still-relevant activities: there was a mystery to solve.  Grey’s ship, the Lise Meitner, was days away from being dispatched to investigate and hopefully solve this mystery.

The BPOE was equipped with spaceships that could move people and goods between Jupiter and Saturn in a matter of weeks.  That distance could be traversed in a couple of days when the planets aligned and the ship was fast.  Even with this capability, most exploration beyond Saturn was still conducted by robotic probes.  A wealth of information had been learned about Uranus and its moons via this method.  Neptune, on the other hand, was still largely unknown.  

 

The most distant ice giant had not been neglected.  Over the preceding two hundred plus years dozens of robotic probes had been dispatched to Neptune.  Some had ceased transmitting soon after entering orbit, their data return minimal.  Others simply stopped transmitting navigational telemetry in the vicinity of Neptune and never sent back any science data.

The teams in charge of the probes insisted there must be a highly localized phenomenon causing the failures.  No amount of shielding yielded success, and the BPOE was unwilling to dispatch a human crew, especially after life was discovered orbiting Saturn.  It was more important to dedicate resources to support that effort.

However, the loss of the probes had finally become a political issue for the people elected to run humanity’s affairs.  They in turn made it the BPOE’s problem, as one of the earliest functions of the organization was the tracking of every object in orbit of the Sun down to one centimeter in diameter.  And now the BPOE was making it Captain Grey’s problem to solve.

Celia had always been a problem solver by nature.  Therefore, she relished the opportunity to not only be the captain of the first ship to visit Neptune in fifty years (and the first ship to do more than a quick swing through the system before slingshotting their way back toward settled space), but to also answer the mystery of the lost probes.  The problem she had to solve immediately? Getting out of this briefing without losing the assignment and her commission.

She had fully grokked what her commanding officers were asking of her within ten minutes of the meeting’s start.  However, the admirals had their own agenda.  Eventually humanity would expand outward into the gravity well of Neptune and plans for that settlement required the BPOE to carry out its oldest mandate: the creation of a detailed three-dimensional active chart of Neptune-local space.

Triton, Neptune’s largest moon, was considered prime real estate for a future BPOE base.  This base would ultimately serve as the support hub for human exploration into the Oort Cloud and Kuiper Belt, just as Callisto was still the base of support for all activity beyond the Asteroid Belt.

The repeated failure of the robotic probes sent to conduct initial studies and other basic science was a problem that must be solved before any of these plans could move forward.  Thus, Captain Grey and her crew were being sent to investigate and ultimately find answers.

Eventually the speeches were done.  Grey plastered a smile on her face.  She stood from her chair when everyone else stood.  She accepted the words of encouragement and congratulations from each of the admirals as Commander Phillips stood at her side, impassive.  Grey herself had never served as an XO.  She had been a Propulsion Officer and later Propulsion Chief for most of her career.  She cared for the generators that moved them through space and other ship’s systems.  After several tours as PC, her old commanding officer had recommended her for the captain’s chair.  If she had known being a captain meant sitting through briefings like this, Grey might have turned down Captain Simmons’ recommendation.  This morphed her forced smile into the genuine article.

Noticing the subtle shift in her CO’s demeanor, Commander Phillips caught Grey’s attention with an inquisitive look.

Ensuring she was in no one’s line of sight, Grey mouthed ‘it’s over.’

Phillips almost laughed out loud but held her own composure.

They cleared the briefing room and retired to the office Grey had been granted for the week of briefings and planning meetings before their departure.  The captain dropped into the chair positioned behind the unadorned desk.  Phillips remained standing on the other side.

“Have a seat, Chris,” the captain recommended.

Phillips sat down in one of the chairs opposite the desk and leaned back.  A dramatic sigh escaped her lips.

“Commander?” Grey inquired.

“That briefing could have been a communique,” Phillips observed.

“No kidding.  Frankly given my preference we’d already be underway for Neptune, but it seems like every admiral is itching to have their name be attached to this mission,” Grey mused.

“Indeed.  They know it’s a political mission as much as anything,” the XO concurred.

“Anyway, based on what little information we have going in, what do you think we’re going to find out there?” Grey asked.

Phillips considered the captain’s question for a moment before responding.

“Honestly, it’s most likely just some sort of highly localized radiation event that we can’t detect this far out.  As much as people want it to be something spectacular, we’re going to come home with a tracking database, hi-res scans of all the moons, and probably a few radiation-fried dead probes,” she answered.

“So, nothing really weird,” Grey said.

“Being the first ship to do a proper survey of Neptune isn’t enough for you?” Phillips teased.

“I was on the crew of the Phoenix when the Titan microbes were discovered,” Grey reminded her XO, “I’ve been chasing weird for most of my career.”

 

♃

 

Captain Grey’s Launch ascended into the never-ending night of Callisto’s sky.  Her pilot was young and therefore fastidious about following protocol.  That protocol would demand that he deliver her directly to the Lise Meitner’s launch bay with minimal diversion from his filed flight plan.  Grey had other ideas.

She stepped forward from the passenger cabin into the cockpit.  She sat down familiarly in the vacant copilot’s chair and leaned forward to take in the space around them.  Jupiter ate most of the sky before them, but other Galilean moons could be seen racing across the gargantuan world’s roiling face.  In a scape of organic curves and swirls, Svadilfari Station was abruptly orthogonal.

Svadilfari served as the main shipyard, maintenance, and docking facility for all BPOE spacecraft capable of interplanetary travel.  The Lise Meitner, only on dock for minor repairs and resupply, was connected to girdered superstructure by only a pair of umbilicals and a docking tube.

Before the ensign could make the necessary course correction to approach the Launch Bay, Grey coughed politely to get his attention.

“Ensign, I need you to make a slight alteration to your approach course,” she said amiably.

“Captain?” the young man replied without taking his eyes from his instrument console.

She sighed.  Grey fished her personal screen from her pocket.  Screens were the standard issue slim portable handheld communications and computing device that everyone in the BPOE carried.  At one point in the distant past devices with similar form factor and partial function had been called ‘phones.’ Screens were to those ancient phones what the phones had been to sticks scratching in dirt.  The captain swiped a finger vertically across her screen to send an updated flight plan to the pilot’s console.

“Here, please follow this amended route before dropping me off,” she instructed the ensign.

“Captain, this deviates from the plan I filed with Traffic Control before taking off.  I have to follow my filed plan,” he said, head fresh with regulations and promised consequences for not following them.

“Ensign, I promise that you will not suffer any consequences by following this plan.  I need to inspect the hull of my vessel before boarding her and you happen to have the vehicle I need to make that happen.  And I didn’t want to do this, but I’m not asking, I’m ordering,” she said with some force in her voice.

Grey would have preferred that the ensign show some latitude, but the BPOE needed strict rule-followers, too.  They often made excellent Executive Officers.  That thought brought a smirk across her lips.  Ultimately the ensign caved to her request and flew a slow corkscrew around the exterior of the Lise Meitner.

Like all BPOE ships, the Lise Meitner was at its most basic a white cylinder with various sensing platforms erupting from the leading end of the vessel.  Smooth arcs of hull were interrupted by oval windows, circular docking ports, and more sensing equipment.  The aft tapered quickly into the main drive system which provided the mind-boggling acceleration that made the BPOE’s patrols and explorations possible.

Captain Grey was interested in several small repairs that had been completed by the Svadilfari Station crew.  Their last patrol had unexpectedly taken them into a previously uncharted debris field.  It had caused mostly superficial damage to the ship’s hull, but a few impacts were beyond the ability of Grey’s repair teams to tackle.  As the pilot ably steered them in a slow orbit of her ship, she inspected the repairs with a practiced eye.

The captain’s first mentor was the present commanding officer of Svadilfari Station.  Back then he had been a Lieutenant Commander and the Propulsion Chief for the BPOE Phoenix.  Now he was Admiral Gonzalo Rodriguez.  Grey liked to think he took extra-special care of her ship, but she knew that the Chief (how she would forever think of him) considered every ship in the BPOE fleet special.  This, coupled with the quality of his team’s work, made her smile.

“Thank you, ensign.  That will do.  We can proceed to the Launch Bay now,” she told the pilot as she settled back down into the copilot’s seat.

The ensign relaxed noticeably.  Grey thought she heard some words muttered just under his breath but chose to ignore them.  He had done her a favor; she was repaying that favor by remaining silent.  She shook her head slowly at the silliness and he executed an almost perfect landing in her ship’s Launch Bay.

Grey spied Commander Phillips waiting in the observation area for the bay to be re-pressurized.  The captain offered her XO a nod of acknowledgement, which was returned.

--

Drops May 1, 2025!

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A Greater Puzzle: Retrograde Cycle Part 1 now available for Pre Order!

 

If you follow me on Social Media (well, pretty much just Threads these days), you are aware that I have been working on a new series of books set in my Titan Run Universe.  And now I have some Great News!

Book Trailer: The Complete Titan Run Trilogy (with excerpts from each novel)

The Cycle is Complete

More than a decade ago I had an idea. At the time, “The Deadliest Catch” was in the popular culture and I wanted to write a Science Fiction novel. My idea was to write “The Deadliest Catch … In Space.” I stole moments during lunch and evenings to scribble notes, write drafts of scenes, and outline a novel. I began to write in earnest. I had already written a novel, a novella, and a pile of short stories. Some of it was okay, a lot I’m now embarrassed that I thought it was good enough to inflict on the world. None of it was what I’d ever have called “good Science Fiction.” But I had the idea.

Deep into writing the first draft of this novel I realized that it would need to be a trilogy. All the great stories are told across multiple volumes, why not mine? Also, three books means three times the potential revenue, and I’ve been trying to make writing a paying side-hustle for, well, awhile. It remains a passion, but net-negative cashflow. Alas.

I redoubled my efforts to finish that first volume after breaking the outline into thirds. In 2016, “

Breaking Orbit, volume I of the Titan Run Trilogy” was published. Work began on volume II. Four years, a new marriage, a move, a new job, and a global pandemic later, “Krakken and Phoenix, volume II of the Titan Run Trilogy” hit Amazon’s virtual shelves in November 2020. I’ve never been more proud of a work of fiction I wrote. Until now.

One year, three vaccine shots (boosted!), and a pandemic several variants into the Greek alphabet later, I have published “

Statute of Expectations, volume III of the Titan Run Trilogy.” The cycle is complete.

This final piece of work was the easiest time I’ve had writing a book and also the most difficult. When I published “Krakken and Phoenix,” I had availed myself of large swathes of suddenly free time to bring home a book I’d been working on for three years. It was already half-done when everything shut down.

"Statue of Expectations" was its own beast. Sure I had written the first chapter and slapped it in at the end of “Krakken…,” but I’ll be honest: at the time I had only the broadest ideas of how this thing was going to end. I spent the end of last year sharpening those ideas into an outline. I began writing in earnest while we were still hunkered down pre-vaccine. I finished the book as the Delta Variant raged across the world. The Titan Run Trilogy has nothing to do with a pandemic, but that's how I've been measuring time.


If you’ve been along for the ride, I hope “Statute of Expectations” is a worthy ending, in your estimation. I think it is, but so often a fan’s ideas are not what the creator had in mind. But even if it’s not what you wanted, I hope you enjoy the journey.

If you haven’t started yet, hey, this piece is peppered with links, and I keep my books inexpensive on Kindle. Hell, if we’re friends, ask and I’ll send you a digital copy. Make your friends pay for their copies. Word of mouth remains the best marketing. I’ve tried social media advertising, so I know.

“Statute of Expectations” is the end of this story, but it’s not the end of this universe, or even these characters. I have a short story set during “Krakken and Phoenix” in the December 2021 issue of Synthetic Reality Magazine. I have a file full of more story and novel ideas, and I’ll be submitting more shorts. Just don’t expect a whole-ass novel out of me in another year. At least not in 2022. I’m gonna enjoy the accomplishment for a moment. This is still a passion
project after all. Feel free to prove me wrong.

BOOK EXCERPT: Krakken and Phoenix: vol. II of the Titan Run Trilogy

The following is an excerpt from "Krakken and Phoenix: vol. II of the Titan Run Trilogy," currently available for Kindle eBook PreOrder, available in Paperback from Amazon on November 1, 2020.

 002 | PHOENIX

 

Months into her shakedown cruise near Martian space the pride of the Benevolent and Protective Order of Explorers’ fleet, the BPOE Phoenix, glided silently through the night, all systems humming. One of the perks of having remained so close to home base for their shakedown cruise was the regular shipments of fresh stores for the galley. Captain Dalton Simmons, always one for creative efficiency, enjoyed the frequent opportunity to test his crew's docking skills. That these restocking missions also kept them on real food was just a side benefit he had insisted, no matter how hard Commander Stephanie Grove, his executive officer, had stared at him in disbelief.

"Seriously, captain," she had said while standing next to him as they watched the latest cargo ship pull alongside the Phoenix from the viewport in his office.

"I am very serious, Commander," he replied while barely suppressing a smile as he turned his head to look at her.

His persistence paid off and he was ultimately rewarded with first a sigh of resignation and then a small smile from Grove, who had held eye contact with him.

"I think," she replied, "that all that time spent planet-side has made you lose your taste for protein packs."

"Are you implying that I've gone soft, XO?" he asked, all humor vanishing from his face.

"Not at all, sir," the XO replied as her spine reflexively stiffened, "but I would humbly advise that the captain may not want to overuse his privilege. Others in the fleet might begin to wonder."

"You been talking to Nillson's XO again?" Simmons asked as he moved to sit at his desk.

He folded his hands together on top of the desk as he sat, sighing at the thought of his rival, Captain Wanda Nillson of the BPOE Cumberland.

"Captain Nillson’s XO Lieutenant Commander Rice and I have only been discussing official BPOE business, captain," she reported. 

"Though Cathy – Lieutenant Commander Rice, that is – did say that Captain Nillson passes along her compliments. ‘The Phoenix is a fine ship’, I was instructed to pass along."

"She would say that," Simmons replied with disgust. 

"She's needling me on purpose because she knows I'm about to break her speed records. She'll demand they put an asterisk next to the record because the Phoenix is a new ship and not some twenty-year-old comet-counter like the Cumberland."

"I had no idea you and Captain Nillson shared such a rivalry," Grove replied.

"BPOE wilderness training," Simmons explained. "I still don't understand why trainees have to spend a month in the Martian desert when all of our service is in space, but Wanda and I were a team. She turned everything into a competition. Who could conserve the most rations, who could grow the largest mushroom, who could go for the longest hike conserving the most oxygen…"

The look that had overtaken Commander Grove's face made Simmons close his own mouth.

With a wave of his hand he said, "Anyway, Captain Nillson and I have had a sometimes-friendly rivalry ever since then. The fact that she made captain three years before me is something she has not let me forget. I'm going to enjoy breaking her record."

"And when will we have the opportunity to do that, sir?" Grove asked.

As they felt the Phoenix's docking clamps take hold of the resupply ship, Simmons said, "Not long after this final resupply. We received new orders an hour or so ago. According to BPOE command, the Phoenix has been properly shaken down, and we are to make for Jupiter space to chart some weirdness in the orbits of the Trojan asteroids after a brief stopover at Mars for some crew transfers and a refuel."

"Very good, sir," Grove replied.

"And yes, Commander; it appears that I'll be enjoying protein packs again soon enough," Simmons said, finishing his XO's thought.

"As you say, captain," she replied, with the tiniest of smiles on her normally calm face. "Shall I make preparations?"

"Let’s have one last good meal before we head out. Gonzo is joining me this evening for dinner, would you care to make it three?" Simmons offered.

"Yes sir, I'll be there," Grove said with just noticeable hesitation.

"I'll make sure Gonzo behaves," the captain said reassuringly.

"PC Rodriguez and I are both adults, captain," she stated.

"As you say, Commander," he replied neutrally.

 

The Phoenix’s three senior officers gathered in the captain’s mess that evening as planned.

"You mean it's back to protein packs after this meal?" Gonzo asked between forkfuls of his freshly prepared dinner of squab with Brussels sprouts and roasted potatoes.

"Not quite that quickly, Gonzo. You know damned well that we have stores laid in for months. What do you think this is, some mining ship?" Simmons retorted, though he felt a small twinge from his attempt at humor. 

Commander Grove had not noticed it, but Gonzo had. The captain and his Propulsion Chief had served together for years, and it was only the grace of Fleet Command and Gonzo's insistence that he preferred working on generators to telling people what to do that had kept him from the captain's chair before his old friend. Gonzo had been Simmons’ first and only choice for PC of the Phoenix, and given how things had turned out on the home front, Dalton was very relieved to have his old friend there with him; as much for the psychological support as for his talent with keeping ships together.

But notice the twinge Gonzo did. Good friend that he was, he smoothly changed the subject, but not without first getting in a dig at his sparring partner, the XO.

He said, "Fair enough, captain. I know that some people can't wait to get back to their plastic bags of mush for nutrition, but I'm happy to eat real food – or an approximation thereof – for as long as possible.”

"Anyway," the PC continued while continuing to shovel food into his mouth twice as fast as his dining companions.

When challenged on his eating speed Gonzo would always reply 'You never know when something is going to break, so we propulsion-types have to eat quickly to make sure we don't pass out from hunger while saving everyone else's lives.' 

People would usually nod slowly and walk away at that point, leaving the man to his food.

"Where in the Jovian Trojans are we headed, exactly? That's a pretty large chunk of space. It's like telling us we're headed that-a-way," Gonzo said while waving his non-fork hand in no specific direction.

"Six-two-four Hektor is our specific destination," Simmons said. Gonzo’s performance had done its trick and the captain was back in the room with them and not on a mining ship somewhere between Mars and Saturn.

"If I remember correctly, " Grove said, having chosen to ignore Gonzo’s bait, "Six-two-four Hektor was the first Trojan asteroid known to have its own orbiting satellite."

"And now it's picked up another, and Fleet Tracking wants us to head out and make direct observations of the area to do the math on where it came from, and if the cause of Six-two-four Hektor beta is going to present any hazards to navigation," Simmons confirmed.

"The life of the explorer!" Gonzo toasted.

Captain Simmons and Commander Grove raised their own glasses reflexively, but they did not return Gonzo’s sentiment.

"It's a good chance for us to start contributing to the fleet," Simmons pointed out.

Grove nodded in agreement, adding "This isn't your first space assignment, Chief, so I have no idea what you were expecting."

"Just some good red-Martian-blooded adventure," Gonzo replied. 

"Or at least some pirate interdiction," he added as he took a sip from his glass.

"Phoenix will get her turn at the pirates, don't you worry. Let's just make sure our new ship is up to the challenge. The last thing I want is for the artificial gravity to fail when we're in the middle of a high-G burn trying to run down some pirates," Simmons said.

"I did promise my family that I'd retire without having my internal organs unnecessarily turned to goo," Gonzo observed.

"To not having one's organs turned to goo," Simmons toasted, earning a lopsided grin from his old friend and barely concealed disgust from Grove.

"Captain," she said, "can we please change the –"

An alarm sounded, cutting her off. A voice called for general quarters from the ship’s intercom, signaling for the crew to report to their damage control and battle stations.

Grove had intended to put her glass on the table and stand up to investigate why they were at general quarters without the captain or XO being notified first. Instead her glass bounced off the table and floated off at an angle from her hand as the liquid sloshed around inside, breaking off in small globules. Grove herself was launched into the air and bounced off the ceiling. She swore briefly as her microG training took over and she oriented herself to the room's control panel.

"What the Hell is going on, XO?" Simmons barked as he tried in vain with Gonzo’s assistance to corral the bits of potato and other remains of their dinner before they threatened to clog the ventilation system.

"Finding out sir," Grove replied as she slammed the intercom button with the palm of her hand and herself barked, "Control Deck, XO: What the Hell is going on?"

"XO, Control Deck," Came Lieutenant Stane's voice, "Lieutenant Gray in Propulsion is reporting that the artificial gravity system went offline approximately thirty seconds ago."

"We're aware of that, Lieutenant," Simmons said as he floated through the room, capturing the escaped bits of their dinner in a plastic bag, "Does Lieutenant Gray know why?"

"She's working on that, sir, she reported that they were already tracing down the fault," Stane relayed.

"Understood, Lieutenant. Stand down from General Quarters and sound the MicroG alert. Let's get everything strapped down. Hold us steady. Wouldn't want anyone's organs turning to goo due to a previously scheduled high-G maneuver," Simmons smirked at Gonzo as he said this last bit.

"Aye, sir, Control Deck out," Stane said, closing the circuit.

"Gonzo," Simmons started to say.

Before he could finish, Gonzo looked over his shoulder and said "Already on my way, captain. You'll have your gravity back ASAP." he had already been at the door to the captain's mess.

"Stephanie, please report to the Control Deck and take over for Lieutenant Stane. I'd rather he were focused on his own duties at the moment rather than trying to coordinate this quite literal mess," Simmons said to his XO.

"Aye, captain," she replied.

"And Stephanie, please have a crewperson report here to clean up this mess. I need to change into a fresh uniform before I report to the Control Deck," He said, indicating the stains already setting into the fabric of his uniform.

"Aye, captain," she replied again, this time doing her best impression of a stone as she resisted the urge to crack a smile at the image of her normally composed captain floating in a halo of food wearing a stained uniform with a plastic bag in his hand.

Instead, she launched herself out of the captain's mess and into the general mess hall, barking the order.

"I need a crewperson in the captain's mess with a foodvac and cleaning kit now! Move!" she shouted above the din of the off-duty crew who were replicating a large-scale version of the food-capturing performance that Grove had just left behind in the captain’s mess.

 

When the crew person arrived moments later, they found the captain inverted and securing the last large piece of food in plastic. Simmons acknowledged the crew person and then excused himself to get changed. 

Thankfully for Dalton's pride, the crew was too busy dealing with the loss of the grav plating to notice the large stains on his uniform. He, however, noticed their efficiency and attention to their duty as they went about securing the ship.

Once back in his quarters, he opened a comms circuit to the Propulsion Deck.

"Chief," Dalton said loudly as he shrugged out of his soiled tunic, "where's my gravity?"

"Chief Rodriguez is personally effecting the repairs now, sir," Lieutenant Gray's voice reported, "He estimates that gravity will be back online within the minute."

Sliding the new uniform tunic over his shoulders, Dalton replied, "Thank you, Lieutenant, Simmons out."

Dalton flung himself across his quarters, the muscle memory from years of service in microG serving him well as his left hand grabbed the mid-level handhold as his right hand flipped the comm circuit to the Control Deck. The entire maneuver had taken seconds and he had secured his zipper while in flight.

"Control Deck this is the captain. Sound General Quarters again and advise everyone they have thirty seconds to secure any floating materials and themselves to the deck. Simmons out."

"Aye, sir," Commander Grove replied over the circuit.

Simmons closed the comms circuit and oriented himself to the deck. His feet were planted firmly and his knees bent in the grav-restoration protocol he had helped develop while they were building this ship. He only hoped that nothing expensive had been left unsecured. 

Just as the thought passed, he felt a gradual pull in the direction of the deck and suddenly down was down again and he no longer had to engage his core muscles to remain in the standing position. It was then that he heard a crash coming from the head.

"Well shit," he said to the empty room. 

That noise could only have been the shaving mug that Hugh had given him on a past anniversary. Every tour in microG Dalton had always worried it would crash into something, and now that he had a ship with grav plating he had forgotten all about it. Now it was very likely in pieces all over the deck of his head. He would have cleaned it up himself, but instead called for maintenance to do the task, with special instructions to secure all the pieces. Maybe he could glue it back together. 

Dalton opened the door to his head and confirmed that it had been the mug. He knelt and began to pick up the larger shards. Tears began to well up in his eyes and he closed his hand around the shards he had gathered. A sharp edge pierced the skin of a finger and he shook his hand, dropping the pieces back to the floor as he swore.

Muttering another curse, he stuck the injured finger in his mouth and walked back into the living area of his quarters to retrieve his dermal regen stick. He jammed the device into a pocket before stepping through the hatch back into the corridor, leaving the broken mug to be cleaned up later.

Dalton would have cleaned up the mess right away, but he needed to get to the Control Deck to check their status. Chewing up the corridor with his long strides, he toyed with the idea of having Gonzo turn off the grav plating again – temporarily – so he could just hurl himself down the corridors like in the old days. 

Old days! It was just two years ago that we all served in microG! Only months for some of the crew, he thought.

For their part, the crew appeared to be relieved that the gravity was working again, so Simmons filed away his thoughts with the intent of having the XO run some more grav plating failure drills. 

After a short trip on the lift he strode through the hatch onto the Control Deck and took in the room as he approached the center of the deck.

As she pushed herself from the captain's chair Grove said, "Captain on deck."

"Captain," she continued while standing next to his chair, "as you have noticed artificial gravity has been restored. PC Rodriguez reports that the issue was with some wiring that couldn't handle the electric load."

"Dammit," Simmons said, "I told them that we shouldn't go with the lowest bidder on the support systems for the grav plating." He turned to his comms officer and said, "Ensign Stevens, get me Propulsion."

"Aye, sir, circuit open," reported Stevens.

"Gonzo, what's the verdict?" Simmons asked.

"Well, captain," Gonzo replied from invisible speakers, "whoever was responsible for building this tub used substandard wiring for the grav plating power distribution coming off the generators. When Lieutenant Gray ran a scheduled load test the wiring just gave out. Luckily, I made sure to lay in spare parts before we left Mars orbit, including top-grade wire.”

"I've installed a bypass for now and my team will have the new permanent wiring installed in an hour," he concluded.

"The person or persons superiors who were responsible for our unscheduled drill notwithstanding, we're lucky to have a competent PC. Next time dinner's on me," Simmons replied.

"Ah, but captain," Gonzo began, and Simmons could feel the coming insubordination through the bulkheads of the ship.

"Thank you, PC. Control Deck out," Simmons said, cutting Gonzo off before he could get himself in trouble.

Ensign Stevens cut the circuit and confirmed it verbally.

"And thank you, ensign," Simmons said as he slumped ever so slightly into his chair, finally remembering his injured finger. 

"The worst thing is," he said as he tried to subtly favor the finger, "I never got to finish my dinner.”

“XO, it seems that our emergency is over for now, I'll be in my quarters with a protein pack and a bulb of water. You have the ship," Simmons said as he stood and returned to the lift.

"Aye, sir," Grove responded, "I have the ship. And captain, I recommend the tuna salad. This batch is quite good."

"Noted, Commander."

For more information on "Krakken and Phoenix" and the other book(s) in the Titan Run Trilogy, please visit TitanRunTrilogy.SPACE

KRAKKEN AND PHOENIX: COVER AND TITLE REVEAL

 Been dying to share this with the world, and here it is. The title and cover art for volume II of the Titan Run Trilogy, coming this Fall: KRAKKEN AND PHOENIX

Bricks, Mortar, Art, Paperbacks

My books are now on sale here in Hagerstown at the Washington County Arts Council Gallery Shop. The Gallery Shop is directly adjacent to the gallery itself in the Arts and Entertainment District of downtown Hagerstown, across the street from the historic Maryland Theatre. I highly recommend stopping by and checking out all the great book, but be sure to walk out with a copy of one of my books. You won't be disappointed.

Here's the scoop:

What if? That's the question from which each of my stories originates. It might be sparked a random thought or when I take note of someone on the street. I must write the story even when what the character is going through on the page is entirely alien to my experience, even if it's just to clear space in my head for the next idea. And if it's a poem? That is when things can... 

To read more and view the titles I have on sale, click here >>