~Caraig
Jonathan McDermott
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Cold Comfort The sun rose early during the long, hot, dry summer. In the desert it cast long, solemn shadows along the ground as the sagebrush caught the first glimmers of light, interrupted by the already deep shadows of the hills where they dared to contradict the flat horizon. The week -- indeed, the month -- had been dry, and the horse's hooves kicked up small clouds of meek dust with each footfall. And now with the sun rising on a cloudless day, he promised no relief from the scorching, blazing heat.Cold Comfort
I led him in an easy cant, a fair pace but not
by ~Caraig
OceansShe barely remembered being carried out of the waters. Arms carried her, strong arms, but she did not remember whose they were. They were not his. That was all that mattered.Oceans
They told her what had happened: the airship crashing, sending flaming debris over half the beach. A crash impossible to survive, and yet they had tried, for two days and nights, to find any survivors. They found no others.
She listened, nearly silently, numb and mute. He had been aboard it. And now he was gone. There had been times before, in their travels, when she had thought him dead, but he had always returned, somehow. A short, short time
by ~Caraig
Minuet, Part 4: "Primacy"Khaine's ships, bit by bit, emerged from shift, deep in the heliosphere of the system they had been told, in fairly certain terms, to not approach.Minuet, Part 4: "Primacy"
"Plot, Flag. Anything?" She kept her voice calm and collected, restrained. She didn't want any nervousness showing.
"Flag, Plot. Nothing at all. All telemetry is clean."
She fretted for a moment, then shook her head. "Plot, Flag, get me threads to the division leads.
She tapped her seat's arm idly while she waited, not liking being coccooned in the seat's restraint system of plates and mesh. A strict interpretation of the warning would mean
by ~Caraig
Minuet, Part 3: "Action"To Ng, a few footsteps could take him anywhere within the domain of his civlization. Of the thirty worlds -- once, there had been hundreds of thousands, but he remembered this with neither pride nor bitterness -- he could begin his walk from the chambers on one, take a step outside the chambers and be on another, and complete the last few steps on a third. It wasnot as if space was meaningless; far from it. Rather, space was interchangable.Minuet, Part 3: "Action"
It was for this reason that his last few steps were paused, and he could not go further without performing certain actions.
If one were to try and
by ~Caraig
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