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Eloquent Tales & Blues

Steven Meehan

Welcome to Eloquent Tales & Blues, where the art of storytelling is infused with original blues. On this channel, I’ll be weaving captivating tales with my own blues riffs, creating a space where words and melodies come together to evoke your emotions and spark your imagination. With original narratives and riffs, each episode will open a door to a new world.

Whether you’re here for thought-provoking stories or a fun blues riff, Eloquent Tales And Blues offers something for everyone who appreciates the power of words and music. Join me on this journey of creativity, nostalgia, and soulful storytelling.

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Avg 7 min
English

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S2 · E90
Yesterday · 6 min
Discovery: Forged in Necessity
“You or your messengers popping into my workshop daily aren’t going to expedite my work, Jarvis.” Cecile’s shoulders sagged as she rolled her eyes. Her fingers wrapped around the tool as she slammed it against her workbench. She tossed the implement onto the counter before cracking her knuckles on the table’s edge. “In fact, the more you pester me, the longer it’ll take to fabricate whatever you’re asking for. If you want it done, stop asking when I’ll complete it!” “Are you finished with your tantrum?” Her mouth scrunched, tugging her lips into a scowl. “Excuse me?” Jarvis leaned against the doorframe as he chewed his lip and tapped the edge of the door. “When you’re stressed and frustrated, it’s not uncommon for tirades like that to rush out of your mouth.” “Fine, maybe I’m a little worked up.” Cecile closed her eyes as she rubbed her temples, and a tense silence filled the chamber. When her eyes opened, she drew several breaths as she pulled a stool out from under the workbench. With a huff, Cecile plopped onto the seat and folded her arms across her chest. She reached out and plucked a bolt from the table and twirled it about her fingers. “Regardless, stop harassing me for a timeline. There’s no clear finish line for this, and you know it.” “I know it’s not easy, but you’ve had some success with the flight engines.” Jarvis stepped inside and leaned over the workbench, examining the collection of parts. “Especially considering the drone you were playing with during our previous visit.” “It’s a matter of scale.” Cecile dropped the bolt as she pulled a box out from under the table. She eased it onto the counter and pulled out seven of the mini-drones. “I’m capable of creating all the toys you want. However, I’m unsure they’ll do much good in providing the aid you’re expecting.” Jarvis lifted a drone and turned it over in his hands. One eyebrow rose as his voice carried an edge of urgency. “Could you alter the design to carry some of our weapons?” “Are you looking for remote-controlled attack drones?” “These won’t counter the enemy’s aerial threat that’s been mercifully absent recently.” Jarvis laid the drone down before clasping his hands behind his back. He reached up and massaged his brow with one hand. “Though depending on what you attach, they may help thin out the enemy’s ground troops.” Cecile shoved the box down the table and lifted a drone to examine it. “You’d need a swarm to make a dent in anything substantial. And no matter what weapon I attach, it won’t pack enough punch to drop anything the size of the monsters we’re up against...
S2 · E89
September 12 · 6 min
Chaotic Crescendo
Sebastian’s foot tapped as his head whipped about. Two figures approached from different directions. The nearest figure was his friend, carrying a sack over his shoulder. The other was an elegant man with hands clasped behind his back and a baton tucked under an arm. When Jimmy reached his friend, he dropped the bag next to Sebastian with a muffled clatter. Sebastian grasped his friend’s arm. “Look, the maestro’s on his way. Please don’t do anything to scare him. Just act like a normal person.” “That’s offensive.” Jimmy shook his head as he opened the bag and removed a tambourine. “I’m the poster child for normal.” “What did you haul over here?” Jimmy tapped the tambourine with a grin as the cymbals rattled and gestured at the approaching conductor. “I brought everything I’d need for my big musical debut.” Sebastian examined the sack and groaned. “You brought a collection of tambourines.” “Not just tambourines,” Jimmy said, pressing the one in his hand against his stomach. He stepped forward, lifting a finger. “I also brought tuning forks. And one triangle, for the emotional range.” Sebastian shook his head, burying his face in his hand. “Don’t embarrass me.” The conductor stopped a stone’s throw away from the friends, licking his lips. He eyed the bag, the pair, and the bandstand. It wasn’t much, but it would do for this impromptu audition. He gestured to the stands. “Mm, there’s a moody sky. We should have excellent resonance. Let’s begin with the Largo. Two bars in, you cue me and then follow my lead.” “Understood,” Sebastian said with a nod as he hustled to the stand. The conductor smiled as he withdrew the baton and tapped his thigh. “Finally, a flutist who listens.” Jimmy paused halfway to the bandstand and brandished his tambourine like a royal scepter. “I don’t play a flute. I’m here to add the percussion.” The conductor’s gaze whipped from Sebastian to Jimmy several times before he closed his eyes. “You’re with him?” “Unfortunately,” Sebastian said, his head dropping. “Very well.” The conductor tapped his baton on his thigh and took a deep breath. “One note out of time and I’ll leave.” Jimmy dropped his bag and elbowed Sebastian. “No pressure!” As the Conductor lifted his baton, raindrops pelted Sebastian’s head. He looked up and found the large hole in the canopy. He shook his head and moved to a drier section. “Why does the universe schedule rain just for me?” “At least you’re pre-watered.” Jimmy said, clapping Sebastian’s back. “This way you’ll grow better.” With a grumble, Sebastian took a brief breath and began a slow, mournful melody. Within moments, the conductor’s baton began controlling the course of the music. At a brief pause in the piece, Jimmy leaned forward. “Is it my cue?” Sebastian’s eyes narrowed as he flashed a glare at his friend. “Not yet.” The conductor eyed Jimmy as he continued to lead Sebastian through his piece. After several more somber moments, Jimmy leaned forward during another lull. “How about now?” “No!” Jimmy’s shoulders slumped as the song meandered in its somberness. However, after a few moments, when the song began to turn brighter, Jimmy’s face glowed as he added the jingle of his tambourine to the song. Sebastian whirled around and leaned toward his friend, waving a finger under Jimmy’s nose. “What are you doing?! You’re not even involved in this!” “What was that?” The conductor rushed forward and slammed his baton on the bandstand’s stone floor. “Why’d you disrupt the piece?!” “It felt like the perfect time to add a touch of the tambourine.” Jimmy eased his friend back as he stared at the conductor. “It was meant to add emphasis, drama, a flourish!” “It sounded like a raccoon stuck in a shopping cart!” The conductor ran his hand through his wet hair as he chewed his lower lip. “That’s interpretation!” Jimmy shook his head as he wrapped his arm around his instrument...
S2 · E88
September 5 · 6 min
Discovery: Dual Assaults
Jarvis' thumbs massaged his temples as a loud grunt tore through the gun encampment. He turned away from the battlefield and plucked his radio off his belt. "Fenton, those monsters are devastating our eastern defenses. Why haven't you dispatched the dwarven detachment to shore up the line?" A garbled reply cut through the heavy din. Jarvis pulled the comm to his lips as his eyes narrowed. "What did you say?" "They're currently supporting our western defense." Jarvis slammed his fist into the wall before dashing across the cluttered chamber and sliding behind another firing position. With a guttural growl, he placed the scope to his eye and studied the skirmish. "They'll survive without our allies. Get them over to the eastern flank." "Do you want them cut to ribbons as they bounce between breaches?" "Fenton, I'm not in the mood. Send them down the tunnel!" "Having them disengage will devastate both fronts." Swallowing a curse, Jarvis's gaze focused on the western defenses as he tapped the closest gunner's helmet. "Do you see what's holding up the dwarves?" The gunner nodded. Jarvis squeezed the gunner's shoulder. "Clear them a path." "Yes, sir," the gunner said, as he shifted his weapon and started thinning the herd. A second later, the other nearby gunners joined him, creating an opening for their allies. Once cleared, Jarvis activated his radio. "They're good to go. The dwarves need to be where they'll do the most damage. We'll do what we can to keep that hole clear and provide them with covering fire." "I need you to confirm that order." "Fenton, open the gate and get our allies out there!" Jarvis spun toward the eastern front and tossed a power supply to a gunner. The soldier quickly snatched it up and began swapping it for the spent one. Once the gunner finished, Jarvis yelled, his voice slicing through the din. "Reinforce the eastern wall!" "Moving the dwarves has left our western defenses dangerously exposed now." Jarvis swore as he rushed back to survey the raging battle, discovering a score of treeants lifting green-skinned monsters onto the wall. Initially, as the beasts landed on the path, the turrets vaporized them. Then a clever treeant grasped the edge, allowing the green-skinned monsters to race past the automated defenses. "Take out the treeants!" The cannon team next to him adjusted its aim and fired at the nearest treeant. The beam tore through the creature's back, splitting it in half, and the monsters racing up its length fell into the flaming ruins of the tree. With the first target and its payload engulfed in flames, the crews shifted their attention to the remaining treeants. Jarvis rushed to the next team and tapped the gunner's shoulder. "Take out the trees! If we don't cut them down, we'll be overrun by those vicious green-skinned beasts!" "The dwarves are clear of the walls!" "Copy that, Fenton." Jarvis lowered his radio and took a deep breath. "There are two objectives! Take out those shambling trees and protect the dwarves!" "Roger that," all the crews echoed. Jarvis spun and pointed at the teams resting against the walls. "Are those cannons ready for use?" Gregory hovered one hand over his heated cannon. "They still need to cool off." Jarvis clenched his jaw, studying the cooling cannons...
S2 · E87
August 29 · 7 min
Transformation: Escort Two
“Are the outer moons within sensor range yet?” Beatrix asked. With a sigh, Lora turned her chair away from her console and buried her face in her hands. “We’ll call you when we arrive at the gas giant.” Beatrix’s glower hardened as she kicked the doorframe. “We don’t have to reach the planet before I scan its satellites.” Zander rested his head in his hand. “You’ll be able to inspect all the moons soon. Can’t you just wait till we get there?” Beatrix walked into the cockpit and claimed the last station. “You’ve kept me out long enough. All the equipment is here.” Lora adjusted her controls before flicking the display. Leaning back, she dropped her head into her hands. “Whatever, Beatrix. Why are we scanning these moons?” “After what destroyed Laria, the triumvirs refuse to anchor us to one world,” Sarra said. Lora twirled in her chair, sighing and shaking her head. “What does that have to do with anything?” “Previously, the Federation would only settle a single planet in a system.” Zander grabbed his canteen and took a sip. “It didn’t care if there were multiple planets that might support a colony.” “But why are we wasting our time with the satellites?” With a smirk, Sarra tapped Zander’s shoulder. “Does it matter?” He capped the canteen and offered it to her. “Not when the triumvirs tasked us with scanning anyplace that might sustain life.” Lora’s eyes closed as her head fell back. “But the moons…” Beatrix activated the console. “Those can support an atmosphere. And we know nothing about what’s already there.” Her fingers worked the dials while she hunched over the display. With a sigh, she glanced over her shoulder. “That said, three of them aren’t large enough for the purpose.” Lora gripped her station, stopping herself. Her head whipped towards Beatrix as a smile grew. “Can we leave?” Sarra tsked at the pilot. “Not yet, Lora. Four more satellites orbit Aurora Three.” Lora slammed her hand to her forehead, muttering, “Aurora Three?” “Don’t you like the name?” Zander asked. Lora’s face scrunched as she leaned toward him. “It’s a little lazy.” “I think Olyver chose the names,” Beatrix said, adjusting her console. “Can you alter our heading?” “Why?” “Based on the preliminary scans we took upon arrival,” Beatrix said as she transferred the adjusted bearing to Lora’s display...
S2 · E86
August 22 · 6 min
Discovery: Relearning
Jarvis shouldered Cecile’s laboratory door open and entered. “What are you doing?” “I’m twiddling my thumbs while the devastating horde amasses for its latest assault.” “Your sarcasm doesn’t help.” “Don’t you have other things to deal with besides bothering me?” Cecile peered over the table, fire sharpening her stare. She cocked her head, leaving one narrowed eye visible. “Like dealing with the influx of our newest allies?” Jarvis ground his teeth and drove his fist into the metallic doorframe. He drew several breaths and flexed his reddened fingers until they steadied. “Cecile, I require your cooperation, not your flippant attitude.” “I’m busy trying to find other ways of defending this outpost.” Cecile pressed both hands against her temples and clenched her teeth around a scream. When she stood, she rested her palms on the counter, and her fingertips started tapping a soothing rhythm. She gestured at the half-finished experiments scattered throughout her lab and pressed both fists into the counter. Seconds later, her knuckles cracked through the silent laboratory. “I doubt the plasma cannons we cobbled together will be sufficient.” “I seem to remember you crafting those with relative ease,” Jarvis said, crossing his arms. Cecile dropped her head as she gripped the edge of the counter. As her fingers turned white, she bit her lip, letting the silence build between them. After several tense heartbeats, a false smile wormed its way onto her face. “You shouldn’t mistake how quickly we finished for how difficult the work was. It only looked simple from outside. My crew and I toiled for days to finish every one of those contraptions.” “Point taken,” Jarvis said as he crossed to her worktable. “You’re right. Against the flying cavalry, those plasma cannons won’t be sufficient.” Plucking a beaker from a nearby counter, Cecile threw it at him. Jarvis leaned back, letting the glass sail past him to shatter against the far wall. When the final shard settled, he rubbed his chin. “That wasn’t called for.” Cecile rounded her workstation and jabbed Jarvis in the chest. “What more do you want?” “We need to be able to negate their aerial advantage.” Jarvis caught her wrist and lowered it. “We can’t continue fighting while their monsters control the skies above us.” With a series of grunts, Cecile’s eyes narrowed as she ripped her hand from his grasp. When her string of protests died away, she turned and slammed her fist on the tabletop. Cecile shut her eyes, easing tension from her shoulders. She released a sigh as she pulled herself onto the table, crossing her legs. “Did you come down to push me to work even faster? Or do you have an impossibility already in mind?” “We need to combat those monsters’ aerial support on an even footing.” “Oh, is that all you’re asking me to accomplish?” Cecile groaned as she slid to the floor. She rounded the table, flinging open a series of cabinet doors. She lifted several models and, after a brief examination, she either returned them or tossed them over her shoulder as she dove for the next one. After searching the cabinets, Cecile dropped to the drawers and rifled through their contents and papers. After ransacking the entire lab, she planted both hands on her hips. “What are you looking for?” “It should’ve been there,” she said through clenched teeth. She rose and rushed across the laboratory to rifle through several small piles. With a squeal of joy, she pulled a pair of devices from the mess, brandishing them as she hurried back to Jarvis...
S2 · E85
August 15 · 6 min
Truth’s Cost
As the first raindrop struck her cheek, Halwen flinched and yanked her foot from the rickety bridge. The forest roared as the wind whipped past, carving furrows in the water’s surface. The rippling water hinted at hidden life in the depths clinging to secrets best forgotten. She withdrew a small book from her bag and read the initial lines. If you desire answers that no soul can provide, there’s a single option. Tread where no soul dares and awaken the sleeper in the swamp. With a sigh, she returned the book and looked past the bridge. Halwen studied the dull green sky behind the treetops, the result of something alien casting the world in an unnatural haze. Pulses of intense light ripped through the clouds overhead, though no sound reached her ears. Beneath the alien light, the crooked cottage slouched against the trees beyond the far side of the water. Halwen’s hand hovered near her chest, as if stilling her breath might quiet thoughts louder than the rain. The structure was half swallowed by moss and forgotten by time. Its warped tiles glistened with the storm’s touch while the windows flickered with light. When she put her foot on the bridge, the rope snarled and the wood whined as her boot settled upon it. Beneath her weight, the plank sagged as if asking a vital question. Are you sure you want to cross? Halwen pulled her cloak about her shoulder as she released her breath and stepped onto the bridge. Another gust tore through the swamp as more rain splashed against her face. Branches creaked like ancient bones as death and decay overwhelmed her in time with a clap of thunder. Despite the rain intensifying, Halwen forced herself onward. By the time she reached the halfway point, she paused and peered over the railing. As she studied the ripples from the rain, the bridge moaned like a giant straining to keep its burden aloft. The rope rails strained, half-severed in places. Below, the black swamp water stirred lazily, reflecting the leaning cottage at the bridge’s end. Her tongue ran over dry lips. One hand gathered her hair, the other dropped to the hilt at her side. A barely held breath preceded her single backward glance. Then, without another thought, she walked forward, ignoring the downpour and the moss-slicked planks. When her foot touched the distant shore, she ran to the building and marched up the stairs. The door hung open as if it had been expecting her arrival. She peered through the opening, studying the contents. In the dim light, a kettle perched on the hearth’s fire. Beyond the touch of courtesy, vines curled up along the walls, racing toward the ceiling. Across from the hearth there was a bed of twisted reeds, with a slumbering figure resting upon it. This strange figure was neither young nor old, just still. The hands folded upon the figure’s chest, with dried hair as vibrant as river grass. The individual’s breath came slow and steady, barely lifting the blanket that clung to the body. Halwen rose and wrapped her fingers around the door. As she was about to open it, she released the wooden slab when she saw the creature standing vigil over the figure, a sheep. Its faintly glowing eyes stared through her, while the wool felt like an undulating fog. It didn’t bleat or back away. It simply stared. Halwen held its gaze for what felt like an eternity. She licked her lips as she opened the door and stepped inside. “I need answers. I was told the sleeper knows all.” Silence answered her question. After several seconds, the sheep blinked in unison with the sleeper’s inhalation. The movement was subtle, but powerful. Like the world taking notice. A harsh voice filled the cabin as the still figure opened pale eyes...
S2 · E84
August 8 · 7 min
Discovery: New Beginnings
Amid the dwarven hall’s merriment, two mighty tankards, brimming with sweet brew, were shoved in front of Jarvis and Fenton. Fenton’s slender fingers snapped around the smooth wooden handle without hesitation, but Jarvis pushed his own stein away as a low groan escaped from his throat. As laughter boomed throughout the hall, Ferrek downed the last of his ale. With a belch, the dwarf slammed the empty mug on the table as his mouth curled into a devilish grin. “Bring me another!” With trembling fingers, Jarvis slid his drink toward his guide. “Here’s a fresh one for you.” The dwarven king leaned forward, placing a thick finger against Jarvis’s tankard as his lips drew to a thin line. With a gentle push, the stein reversed its course, stopping just in front of the human leader. His thick finger tapped the stein’s rim while Gilras’s eyes darkened. “It’s impolite to refuse a drink offered freely.” “I wasn’t trying to offend.” Gilras cleared his throat with a hearty growl. “The only excuse not to partake is that something is wrong with what’s been given.” Fenton’s lips spread wide as he lifted his fresh mug. “I’ve never tasted a better brew.” “Agreed,” Jarvis said, pulling the tankard away from the king’s fingers. “Unfortunately, I don’t share your constitution. If I enjoy more of this marvelous ale, I won’t be able to ask what happened to Tarian’s colony.” Ferrek chuckled as an attendant replaced his stein. He drank half the fresh mug and sighed as he laid the stein down and wiped his face with his sleeve. “Gilras, remember all our stories.” “What about them?” Gilras asked as he leaned back in his chair. “Keep in mind our new friends are just like Tarian’s folk from your father’s time. All our tales from that era highlight their inability to match our tolerance or love for grog.” The king stroked his beard as his gaze drifted toward Jarvis. His stubby fingers combed through the thick hair at his neck while a heavy silence settled across the room. “You’re not wrong, but I expected more from this new batch of humans, considering how you described their battles with the horde.” “After all this time, and despite their mighty weapons, they’re still frail in comparison to us.” Ferrek lifted his tankard and tapped Jarvis’s shoulder. “But even if you are on the verge of collapsing, it’s polite to taste every drink given to you.” Jarvis closed his eyes as he lifted the tankard off the table and took a small sip. As he placed it down, he licked his lips as a sigh rushed out. “Now, what can you tell us about Tarian’s colony and what became of it?” “Not much,” the dwarven king said, clasping his hands. “It was a little before my time.” “Your kin was nothing more than legend,” Ferrek said, waving his brew about. Gilras sighed and took a pull from his tankard. “My father, Fitik, ruled during Tarian’s expedition, Jarvis.” “Is he still alive?” “You are fortunate,” Gilras said as he slowly swirled the ale about his stein...
S2 · E83
August 7 · 7 min
Transformation: Planetfall
“Isaac, wake up,” Jasmine said as she shoved the pilot’s arm. “I’m awake.” The pilot ground his teeth as he cracked one eye open. He exhaled and swiveled toward his copilot. “My eyes needed a rest, nothing more. And you know from experience that poking me isn’t smart.” Jasmine shook her head and adjusted the controls at her station. She leaned back, rested her feet on the console, and laced her fingers behind her neck. “We’re finishing the last circuit, and the sun’s interference muddied three mineral scans. We need to update the triumvirs.” Isaac dismissed her comment with a smile. “You don’t imagine Quinn or Caitlin will be concerned with a trivial delay, do you?” “Those two won’t care.” Jasmine winked and waved him off. “But I’m sure Olyver would complain about it.” The cockpit door opened, and Britt walked to the third seat. “Are we ready to call the triumvirs?” Isaac grabbed his cup and peered inside. He drained the contents before tossing the crumpled cup at Britt’s head. “What are you doing up here?” The older man deflected the improvised projectile and glared at Jasmine. “Can’t you control him?” “Britt, he tossed you out of the cockpit already.” Jasmine clicked her tongue, lowered her feet from the console, and shrugged. “Isaac, we need to report, and Olyver insisted Britt is the communications officer.” “Whatever you say.” Isaac turned back to his controls. Britt adjusted his panel and opened a channel to the triumvirs. “Aurora, this is Escort One. Do you copy?” The comm line remained silent in the cockpit. Isaac glanced at Jasmine and winked before Quinn’s voice came through. “This is Quinn. What’s your status?” “Where are Caitlin and Olyver?” Britt asked. “They’re busy, but we don’t need them right now.” Quinn paused, then leaned closer to his device. “Can you tell me the planet’s condition?” Jasmine strode over to Britt’s station, batting the other man’s hand away. He bristled, but her glare kept him from moving. Jasmine jabbed the communications button. “Initial scans support a settlement. The atmosphere is stable, and the river basin holds enough water and cultivable soil to sustain one. But the solar interference keeps obscuring the northern mountains.” “Will the settlement require additional support?” Quinn asked. Jasmine took a shallow breath. “For the first year. But if the ridge contains what those distorted readings suggest, the settlement could supply resources in short order. Will you approve a landing?” Isaac released the controls, shifted in his seat, and swiveled toward Britt. “Orbital scans cannot tell us whether the landing site holds usable ore or unstable stone...
S2 · E82
July 25 · 6 min
Discovery: Through the Woods
While Jarvis dabbed his forehead, the rough bark dug into the small of his back. After stealing a few precious moments, he shoved the damp cloth into his pocket as he hustled through his people and chased down their guide. When he reached the dwarf, Jarvis caught the stout warrior’s shoulder. “Ferrek, how much further do we have to go?” Hearty laughter exploded from the guide’s mouth as his head twisted. “We’re closer than the last time you asked. However, if you’re not as hearty as you claimed, we can take another break.” “No,” Jarvis said between ragged gasps. He pressed his palm against his chest as his head whipped about, searching the endless trees. “I’ll be fine.” “Provided you survive,” Ferrek said, clapping Jarvis’s side, “you should add exercise into your busy day.” As Jarvis’s knees wobbled, he leaned against a nearby tree. With raucous laughter, Ferrek spun around and continued marching through the forest. As the dwarf wove through the trunks, Jarvis plucked his canteen from his belt and swallowed several gulps. Once the water tumbled down his throat, he wiped his mouth and hustled after the guide. As he crested the hill, a stout hand slapped Jarvis’s stomach. “What was that for?” “Look down,” Ferrek said, pointing at the ground. Squinting his eyes, Jarvis stepped away from the fissure splitting the ground before his boots. He shook his head and inched toward the chasm. “Where do we go from here?” The dwarven guide lifted his hands as his grin tugged at his cheeks. “Patience, Jarvis, there’s a twisting path that leads directly to the bottom of this cliff and the entrance to our home. It’s good that you got your second wind. The climb down will be taxing.” “After you.” With a nod, the guide spun around and marched along the cliff’s edge. When the dwarf reached a gnarled tree, he spun around it and followed the trail as it bent around the cliff face. When they reached the bottom of the cliff, Ferrek clapped Jarvis’s back. “Cheers, you and your friends are the first outsiders allowed inside our halls.” With a nod, Jarvis took another pull from his canteen. “Thanks for the honor.” Ferrek gestured toward the far wall of stone and bowed. “Your courage in battle earned you the right to face our king.” Jarvis’s hand quivered as he grabbed Fenton and pointed at the intricate stonework opposite them. “Can you see that?” “It’s a little hard to miss,” Fenton said as he pulled himself free from Jarvis’s grasp. Jarvis shook his head and rubbed the feeling back into his legs before he resumed chasing after his guide. Silently, their group passed through the massive archway, and the solid stone doors sealed behind them. The torches lining the walls shone brightly, reflecting off the gold and silver inlays. “Your hall could withstand a siege, Ferrek.” “It’s sufficient for our needs.” Fenton cleared his throat as his head swiveled to take in everything he could...
S2 · E81
July 18 · 6 min
Discovery: Uncovered Truths
With a knock on the doorframe, Jarvis stalked into the makeshift laboratory. "Did you complete the study, Myriam?" The scientist's eyes darted to the pad beside her. As her breath rushed out, she clutched the tablet to her chest. "We've run the test multiple times." "What are the results?" One of Myriam's hands fell from the device. "Something has to be wrong with the field samples." "Please give me the tablet." Jarvis stepped forward, reaching out with a weary hand. "I'll examine what you've discovered for myself." The scientist's eyes widened as she thrust the pad into Jarvis's grasp. "Somehow, the horde descended from the original expedition. How's that possible? We do not share any similarities with those monsters." Jarvis pressed the device into the table's edge as he stifled a groan. "I was hoping Diana's findings were flawed, but two studies have turned that hope into denial." "I was repeating someone else's work?!" "Calm down, Myriam," Jarvis said as he pulled the tablet to his chest. "While her results corroborated Tarian's logs, I couldn't leave something like this to a single study." "Did her work provide you with anything useful?" Jarvis's head swayed back and forth as he flicked the device on. "I am not sure, but hopefully, your combined efforts will provide clarity. While I examine everything, please have all the bodies incinerated." "You want me to burn their dead?" Jarvis sighed as his eyes glazed over. "Despite their appearance, these studies prove those monsters have a shared history with us. As a result, they deserve to be laid to rest. Unfortunately, we don't have the time to bury them. Use Cecile's cannons to vaporize the remains." Reaching for her radio, Myriam swallowed a groan. "If you insist." With a nod, Jarvis whirled about and left. As he hurried down the hall, Fenton fell in beside him. He pointed at the device. "There's a rumor spreading that our enemies are related to our ancestors." "I already knew that." Fenton stopped and spun Jarvis around. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" Jarvis shrugged out of Fenton's grasp and shoved his face next to his. "Tarian's logs are filled with useful information...
S2 · E80
July 11 · 7 min
Memory’s Weight
With a growl, Calen crumpled the map as mist clung to his face. He wiped his mouth as he leaned against a tree. Calen reopened the weathered paper and examined it. When he finished, he shoved the map into his pocket. “That’s what I get for chasing whispered gossip.” *“Whispers can possess the same weight as facts.”* He whipped around, searching the dense wall of foliage. He inched closer to a dense swatch of bush and thrust his arms inside. With a long breath, he spread the branches, revealing a mist rolling across the ground. He removed his arms, retrieving the map to read the note written on the reverse. > The archive of all walkers can be found where the markings glow faintly and the air empowers the scent of memory. “I should have gotten more information from the traveler I bought this from.” *“You’ve found the path you need for recollection.”* Shaking his head to banish the strange voice, Calen stepped through the foliage. Once through the dense vegetation, he stepped into a moss-draped glade, where light ran through the gaps in the canopy. Filtered light mingled with green foliage, casting shifting shadows despite the stillness. Moments passed as the mist unfurled from the glade’s edge. Calen had studied magic for decades. He’d translated ancient memoirs. He debated the ethics of dangerous spells with high mages. Calen even argued with a vampire, convincing him not to satiate his hunger. However, none of his past achievements prepared him for the weight of this place. He felt it first in his fingertips, the ghost of calluses he didn’t have. He staggered toward the emerging mist as a memory bloomed. Calen ran barefoot through a grassland. Occasional blades brushed his cheek as he chased someone whose laughter reminded him of heavenly bells. When she turned, something inside him surged. The way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, he knew her. He wanted to call out her name, but it refused to come. Yet still, he mourned the loss of his sister. But he’d never had a sister. As he staggered closer to the rolling mist, more vivid memories flooded into his mind. With each new one, his legs quivered. He was whisked through the world to stand on a hillside with a silver-feathered hawk perched upon his arm. The bird’s head twisted to him as its talons dug into the thick leather glove wrapped about his arm. While the pressure on Calen’s forearm squeezed, its eyes mirrored his own resolve. Not affection, not command, but allegiance. It seemed the bird traversed centuries to locate him...
S2 · E79
July 4 · 7 min
Transformations: Direction
When the door slammed shut, Olyver jumped to his feet. “We’re heading back to the stars.” Caitlin sighed, burying her head in her hands. “That’s not what Lambert told us, Olyver.” Olyver sat on the desk’s edge and glared at her. “Lambert said they completed the structure. Last month, the frame needed four weeks before anyone could survive outside of the space dock.” “A projection based on borrowed crews and atmosphere processors.” Caitlin plucked a pen off her desk as she rubbed her brow. With a steadying breath, she whirled it about her fingers. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him. “Isn’t that right?” “Those workers bought us time,” Olyver objected as he gestured with his hands. “So why are you treating progress like a problem?” “We have to reassign them.” Caitlin slammed her pen down, punctuating her words. Olyver sighed as he gripped his desk’s edge. “When did Quinn enter the office?” She jumped to her feet and leaned over her desk. “You knew this measure wouldn’t last. Every extra week on the ship delays important planetary infrastructure, not to mention vital tools for colonization.” “Such as?” “The eastern anchors,” Caitlin said, rising to her full height, “and the processors Lambert says will miss calibration if their crews don’t return before the next supply cycle.” “Fine,” Olyver waved at her as he paced about their shared office. “The loan ends before it becomes theft.” “We drafted a schedule for shifting the workers’ focus.” Caitlin nodded her head and withdrew a document from a drawer. She walked to Olyver’s desk and laid it down. “Please review and sign the official transfer.” Olyver lifted it and reviewed the words. When he finished, his gaze rose to hers. “When did you and Quinn find time to draft this?” “Soon after arranging for the influx of workers.” She turned and returned to her seat. Caitlin reclaimed her pen and pointed at the document resting on Quinn’s desk. “Lambert warned us that the loan had a hard edge. Keep them longer, and the first colonists may have a ship before they have somewhere safe to settle.” Olyver looked away as he dropped the transfer. “But why didn’t you talk to me about it?” “We did.” Caitlin’s smile warmed as she thrust her pen at the document. “You’re voicing your concerns now.” Olyver’s knuckles whitened as he forced a question through his sneer. “Why not bring this kind of decision to me earlier?” “Because you were talking with your constituents,” Caitlin said. “Sign it. Then you can tell them the ship gained three weeks without stealing six from the platforms.” Grumbling Olyver plucked the pad off his desk and read through the proposal again...
S1 · E78
June 27 · 6 min
Discovery: Replenished
As the radio crackled to life, Jarvis pulled it to his ear. “Fenton, talk to me.” “This is the third thrust the horde’s prepared today. Where are they finding more bodies?” “Who knows?” With a grunt, Jarvis peered through a hatch. “Just remember your targets. We can’t waste energy targeting the same creatures.” “We’ll handle the medium threats, but we’d appreciate proof that those upgraded cannons exist and work.” “Cecile should have more soon.” “Are you talking about a normal person’s definition... or hers?” Jarvis pulled a rag from his pocket and wiped his face. As he returned the damp cloth, he nudged the gunner wielding the altered prototype. “I’m hopeful we’ll receive more soon.” “That means we’re using Cecile’s ambiguous interpretation.” “She’s converting several at once, and she insists the process is complicated. We have one flexible weapon capable of eradicating huge swaths of these monsters.” Jarvis switched the radio for a scope and examined the assembling creatures emerging from the distant treeline. “While you handle the infantry, my gunners will deal with those walking trees.” “Roger that. Then we’ll trust you to neutralize whatever air support materializes.” “This assault doesn’t have any of those pesky flyers,” Jarvis said as he moved to another hatch. “But that doesn’t mean they won’t appear once the charge starts. If they do, they’re our problem. I don’t want your attention drifting off those green skins.” “Roger that.” “Get ready.” Jarvis switched the radio’s channel and activated it. “Cecile, where are those upgraded cannons?” “We need another thirty minutes for the full batch!” Jarvis’s fist slammed into the bulkhead, and as he pulled it away, a few droplets of blood tumbled from his fingers. “I don’t expect our relentless enemy to sit and wait while you finish tinkering. Bring whatever weapons are finished!” Jarvis switched off his radio and rushed to the gunner wielding the prototype. He squeezed Gerald’s shoulder and kneeled beside him. “Gerald, target the most densely packed sections of their infantry.” When the gunner activated the weapon, the hum thundered through the chamber. “I remember the warnings, though I’d rather start thinning them out now.” “I understand the frustration, but they seem to have an endless supply of bodies.” “That doesn’t mean I have to like our problem.” “Don’t worry. They’re not going to keep us waiting long.” Gerald pulled the scope to his eye as his fingers whitened around the weapon’s grip. “That wasn’t comforting. Hopefully, my stomach will settle once they charge.” A woman to Gerald’s right snorted as her head twisted. “I’ll remind you of that once the onslaught reaches us.” Jarvis stepped between them as he studied the undulating creatures...
S2 · E77
June 20 · 7 min
Rebuke
“Hello, sister,” Leodor said, sitting down beside Tiatha. “Have you been providing extra lessons?” With a sigh, she laid the book on her chest as she leaned away from him. “Do you object to my giving certain pupils extra attention?” “No,” Leodor said, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m simply surprised they’re willing to take on extra work from you.” Haughty laughter bubbled out of her lips as she tossed the book onto the table. “Humiliation is a wonderful motivator.” As Leodor’s lips twitched, blue illumination flared from the bookshelf. Tiatha’s chair skittered across the floor as she pointed at the swelling light. “Didn’t you tell me that your teachers were incapable of creating portals?” “No one can…” Tiatha inched closer to the expanding opening while a pale golden light wrapped around her fingers. “Then who’s forcing their way into your school?” “I don’t know.” Leodor shook his head as blue electricity crackled across his shoulders. “My wards prevent all but the most skilled from opening a way inside the grounds.” With a silent explosion, the light imploded into a swirling vortex as a lean man wielding a spear stepped through the maelstrom. His gaze swept across the library, stopping when he found Leodor and Tiatha. His lips curled into a predatory smile as he thumped the weapon against the ground as if driving in a nail. “We have a Hunter,” Tiatha said, crossing her arms as she leaned against a bookshelf. “Would you like the first strike?” “I’m surprised you haven’t dealt with him yet,” Leodor said, stepping between his sister and the intruder. “However, I’d be willing to lead our rebuttal.” “It would appear that I have located a couple of rogues.” The intruder’s spear leapt into the air, whirling over his head. “The council will smile upon me for collecting a pair of criminals.” “Counting your prizes is useless if you’re not alive to collect them.” Leodor shook his head as he thrust a slender finger toward the invader. “Why don’t you Hunters ever learn from your mistakes?” The Hunter’s laughter rebounded off the bookshelves while a bolt of electricity lanced from the whirling spear. As it raced across the room, Leodor spun out of its path, letting it collide with the stone floor behind him. While debris flew about the room, a pair of bolts erupted from Leodor’s fingertip, racing toward the Hunter...
S2 · E76
June 13 · 6 min
Discovery: Adjustments
“Jarvis, order the teams to cease firing,” Cecile said, poking into the crow’s nest. After the dragon’s neck and wing vaporized, Jarvis shoved his gun at his teammate and rushed to Cecile, catching her by the shoulders. “We can’t stop using these weapons.” Cecile ripped Jarvis’s hands from her and thumped his chest. “If you keep them running at this rate, the upgrades won’t matter. They’ll blow up.” The closest gunner’s hands slipped from the cannon’s grips as he backed away. “What did you say?!” “Keep those dragons off the wall!” Jarvis spun around and lowered his voice. “I thought your upgrades fixed that problem.” “This kind of continual fire wasn’t part of my design.” She planted her hands on her hips before gripping the collar of his shirt and forcing him to look at the cannons. “Stop overusing these guns!” Jarvis pinched his nose as he shook his head. “What are the odds they’ll detonate?” “You want to risk blowing the cannons up?!” Jarvis steered the engineer against the doorframe and pitched his voice so only she could understand him. “We’re dealing with about a dozen dragons ferrying minotaurs and trolls over the walls. Our regular rifles can’t harm those beasts. Those odds matter.” Cecile kneaded her forehead and groaned. “With this kind of load, the odds of catastrophic failure rise to somewhere between ten and fifteen percent.” “Can we keep them from exploding?” Her shoulders fell as her back hit the doorframe. “Before the cannons blow up, they will start whining. As soon as you hear the whine, fire one controlled shot to bleed off the charge, then turn it off.” “That’ll prevent the weapon from detonating?” “No, but it’s the best chance to keep them intact.” “Be an extra set of ears,” Jarvis said as he urged her inside the crow’s nest. As she stumbled into the chamber, he pulled out a radio. “Fenton, how are the walls?” “The cannons are the only reason the worst hasn’t reached us.” Wincing, Jarvis tapped the device against the doorjamb. “Stop beating around the bush and spill!” “Those monsters never run out of corpses to throw at us. The moment we kill one, three more climb over the bodies.” “Roger that,” Jarvis said, kicking the wall. “Keep doing your job, and I’ll see about thinning the horde.” Jarvis shoved the radio into his belt. He marched across the room and spun Cecile away from the gunners. “How difficult will it be to adjust the cannons?” “That depends,” Cecile said as her eyes flicked toward the nearest cannon...
S2 · E75
June 6 · 7 min
Transformations: Advances
Folding his hands behind his back, Lambert licked his lips as his gaze swept across each of the triumvirs. “The space docks are nearing completion, sooner than expected.” Olyver clapped, unable to hide the spark in his eyes. His head twitched toward Quinn as he smiled. “That is fantastic news, Lambert. Wouldn’t you all agree?” Quinn nodded. Caitlin leaned forward. “It changes the pressure that’s on us.” “While this took too long to reach, it’s progress. But we need more.” Olyver inched closer to the edge of his desk. “How fast can you finish the initial ship?” Lambert slouched as he rubbed his chin. After a moment, he straightened. “We should begin testing it in a year and a half, given our current pace.” “Can’t your team do any better?” Olyver asked. “We may be able to get it down to a year.” Lambert inclined his head at Quinn, his eyes lingering on the triumvir. “But that would require pulling workers, materials, and oversight away from the other projects.” “Thank you, Lambert,” Quinn said. “We’ll consider the cost before making that decision.” “What about the supplies?” Olyver asked. Before anyone could answer, he leaned closer. “Have you had any trouble ferrying them up to the docks?” Lambert’s gaze shifted to Olyver. “No, we’re getting the materials we need on time.” “Now that’s good news,” Quinn said, offering a soft nod. “Thank you,” Lambert said, bowing to them. When he rose, he turned and left the room. When the door closed, Olyver faced Quinn. “Lambert just shortened the vessel’s timeline.” “But you heard the cost,” Caitlin said as she stood and rested her arms on the back of her chair. “A year and a half gives us the ship without starving everything around it.” Olyver’s eyes narrowed. “If it were up to the two of you, every delay would be dressed up as caution.” Quinn shook his head. “Olyver, I am weary of your impatience masquerading as urgency.” “Enough,” Caitlin said. “Caitlin, relax,” Quinn said. His eyes shifted back to Olyver. “I am tired of your grief. We’re aware of what you want.” He thumped his hand against his desk as he leaned toward Olyver. “But every project we accelerate steals time, labor, or materials from something else. You understand that as well as I do. And you know that we get everything done according to its priority.” Olyver held Quinn’s stare for a moment before looking away...
S2 · E74
May 30 · 6 min
Discovery: Initial Batch
“Cecile, how many plasma cannons were you able to complete?” “I completed three and a half, Jarvis.” “Oh, goodie,” Fenton said, shaking his head. “What’s the benefit of the unfinished one?” As a groan escaped Jarvis’s lips, his fingertips massaged his eyes. “Go man the wall, Fenton. Once there, order a handful of the best marksmen to the nest.” “I’ll see to it,” Fenton said, his gaze lingering on Cecile. After Fenton left, Jarvis’s attention drifted toward the screen. His finger traced a few of the hideous monsters lining the monitor. Jarvis enlarged the image and studied one of the new critters. “It looks like the beasts have diversified. We’re fortunate that Tarian’s notes contained detailed descriptions of our foes. We’ll focus on the newest monstrosities before their rampage starts.” “What are they?” “Tarian called them minotaurs.” “After all these assaults, you’d think I’d be accustomed to this.” Cecile batted Jarvis’s hands away from the screen and magnified the picture. She glanced away, biting her lip. “However, that beast appears to combine the traits of a bull and a man.” Jarvis nodded and restored the image to its regular size. “Based on Tarian’s logs, they are stronger than you might imagine. Still, that original crew didn’t have our weaponry. Your cannons should cut through those monsters.” “What should the gunners concentrate on once they’ve destroyed the minotaurs?” “Target the biggest threats, while the automated turrets handle the green-skinned menace.” With a grunt, Cecile examined the image. She pointed at another section of the screen and sighed. “I guess that means these are the secondary targets for the cannons.” “Unless something bigger emerges.” “Are you expecting a dragon to rise over that horizon?” “That’s a sample of the fanciful beasts attempting to annihilate us. The moment the marksmen arrive, drag them up to the crow’s nest.” Jarvis rushed for the exit, pulling to a halt in the doorframe as he licked his lips. “Do your cannons require a team?” “With this configuration, they do.” Jarvis hit the frame and drew in a long breath. “Given the number of creatures massing out there, I doubt Fenton could spare that many.” “I suppose we can make the weapons work with just a pair of gunners.” “I don’t care how you get the numbers. Find them and move!” “On it,” Cecile said, squeezing past him. Jarvis nodded, turned, and bolted down the corridor. He scurried to the bank of elevators and waited for one to arrive. When it dinged, he walked inside and jabbed the button for the top floor, and the car shot up the shaft. When it reached the nest, he strode out and ran to the hatches, waiting for the plasma cannons...
S2 · E73
May 23 · 7 min
Whispers & Cassettes
The last time anyone had been in Aunt Lorna’s attic, disco was still king, and her brother, Sebastian’s uncle Gerald, was still alive. If Gerald were still around, he’d be sporting mismatched socks and rambling about conspiracies. But now Lorna was getting ready to sell the house, and she needed help. So she bribed her nephew with a combination of dinner, guilt, and the promise of her legendary peach cobbler. Sebastian ultimately relented since family mattered. But Jimmy only agreed because he’d misheard his friend, thinking there’d be poker. As Jimmy carried a box toward the attic door, he paused and glared at Sebastian. “It smells like a sweater died in here. A very old and musty sweater.” “You’re wearing a sweater,” Sebastian said, digging through a box, “and it looks old.” Dust motes floated like ghosts in the beams of light from the dangling bulbs. While the attic was cluttered, it wasn’t chaotic. There were carefully stacked boxes, faded furniture under white sheets, and a worn recliner that once hosted many of Gerald’s late-night rants. “That’s not the point.” Jimmy stepped around an ancient stack of National Geographics and pointed at a shoebox sitting precariously in the middle of the floor. “That looks cursed.” “Everything looks cursed to you,” Sebastian said as he wandered over to it and removed its lid. Inside the cardboard container, he found a bundle of cassette tapes wrapped in a child’s drawing. The sketch was nothing more than crayon lines forming a crooked train tunnel, with a bright red sun in one corner and two stick figures standing near the entrance. While one sported a grin, the other had Xs instead of eyes. “Creepy on its own, but the fact a kid made it? Makes it extra unnerving.” Jimmy deposited the box beside the door and sauntered back to Sebastian. “We agreed not to mess with creepy children’s artwork, remember?” “We never agreed to such a thing.” Sebastian pulled out a tape, finding a handwritten label, ‘Tunnel: Final Recording.’ “Nope,” Jimmy said, backing toward the exit. “No ‘final recordings.’ That’s like opening a video labeled Don’t Watch Me.” But Sebastian had already retrieved a dusty tape player. He blew out the speakers and slammed the tape inside before clicking the play button. A soft hiss filled the attic, then a voice, warbled with age but unmistakably childlike, replaced it. “I went in again. The tunnel’s deeper now. Mom says I’m dreaming, but she doesn’t hear it.” Jimmy pressed his back against the wall, eyes darting around the attic. “We’re listening to the eerie tape. This is how we die. Headline’s gonna read, ‘Two idiots done in by EVP.’” “Shh,” Sebastian said, narrowing his eyes. “I’m trying to listen to our doom in stereo.” “I left a drawing, so people could follow me,” the voice continued, “in case I don’t return.” A low rumble crackled through the speaker. Not static. It sounded like distant wheels on a track. “Who records a train?” Jimmy rubbed his lips and shook his head. “Was this a travel vlog?” “Someone who didn’t make it out.” Sebastian glanced at the drawing again. “These stick figures… this one appears to be waving goodbye.” “One’s got Xs instead of eyes! What kind of kid draws that?!” They sat in silence as the tape wound on...
S2 · E72
May 16 · 6 min
Discovery: Negotiations
Jarvis shoved a tablet across the table, and it slid to a stop in front of the dwarf's hand. "Ferrek, while we're fresh visitors to this world, those logs suggest our ancestors were allied against the unending flood of monsters." "I'm aware of the old tales." Ferrek's nose scrunched as his beefy fingertip poked the device. "What's this?" Closing his eyes, Jarvis folded his hands, pressing them against his forehead. "That's rather complicated. We can discuss it another time. Let's focus on what's before us." Ferrek lifted the pad, flipping it back and forth. With a shrug, the burly dwarf dropped the tablet to the desk and leaned into his seat. Laughter filled the small room as he pulled his weapon off the floor and a stone from his pack. He spat on the stone and placed it beside the device. "And what is it you're hoping to gain from this conversation?" "I'm offering a reason to rebuild what was lost." The heavy blade thudded against the wet stone, and Ferrek guided its edge along the rock. When it cleared, he flipped the ax, drawing the other side down the stone. The dwarf fell into a steady rhythm as he repeated those simple motions. "Your ancestor, Tarian, insulted our leader's honor. My people do not forget those kinds of offenses or insults." Ferrek pulled the ax off the stone and ran his thumb across the edge. His lips curled into a smile as he laid the weapon across the table. "It's fortunate for you that time has altered our leadership, and our current king isn't as attached to the lore." "Does that mean an alliance is possible?" "I remember the stories my father told me about your kin. Despite being weaker, they possessed magical weapons." With the flat of the blade, Ferrek scooped the tablet up, tossing it into Jarvis's lap. His grin widened as his hand flashed to his ax, slamming it into the table. "Based on your destruction of that tree, your weapons are superior to what they wielded." Jarvis lifted his fingers to his chin and licked his lips. "Are you suggesting that your liege will be more willing to assist us, if we supply you with some of our formidable equipment?" Warm laughter echoed about the room as Ferrek yanked his weapon from the tabletop. "I like you." "It's been a pleasure meeting you as well." "You're lucky I'm a close friend of the king, and we share similar opinions on most topics." Ferrek shook his head as he pulled the weapon toward his eye and dragged his thumb across the edge. He laid the ax down and lifted the stone from the desk, wiping it off on his pants leg. As his breath rushed from his lips, the stout dwarf gestured with the stone. "Offering to assist us in our defense from the dangers in this world wouldn't hurt your cause." With a smile, Jarvis lifted a hand. "We're having difficulty securing enough weapons to defend our encampment, but we have plenty of bodies ready to fight with you that can bolster the support of your home. Would that be an acceptable compromise?" Ferrek laid the ax head on the ground, propping the handle against the table as he slipped the stone into his pack...
S2 · E71
May 9 · 7 min
Transformations: Concessions
Olyver threw the door open and stalked towards Quinn's desk. He growled as he slammed his hands down on it. "Where's Caitlin?" Quinn ignored Olyver's outburst as he flipped through his documents. "Does it matter, Olyver?" He pulled a file from his coat and snarled. "We are not making progress on the draft or the ships." "They're not ready to be completed." Olyver slapped the papers out of Quinn's hands before throwing his stack into his fellow triumvir's chest, "We've had this drafted for a month, and we haven't ratified it." Quinn leaned back, lifting the document. "What makes you expect it'll be approved?" Olyver's scowl intensified as he loomed over Quinn. "We agreed—" "No, we didn't." Quinn gathered the scattered papers around his desk. Once he retrieved the last sheet, he placed it on top of his skewed pile. He folded his hands together and glared at Olyver. "What needs to happen first is perfecting and completing the federation's charter." "Even if I agree with that, it circles back to Caitlin's whereabouts." The triumvir groaned and rounded his desk, encroaching into Olyver's space. "Why are you in such a rush, Olyver?" "I'm not impatient." Olyver pushed Quinn away as his eyes narrowed. "Why are you two sandbagging this?" Quinn shook his head before sitting on his desk's edge. He snatched Olyver's documents as he offered them to the other triumvir. "This draft is still three to five years from being implemented. You've seen the construction projections, Olyver." "Stop using that as an excuse for dragging this agreement through your roadblocks!" Olyver shoved the papers off Quinn's desk as he retrieved his. He slammed them onto the empty space and thumped Quinn's chest. "I'm tired of you and Caitlin trying to circumvent this crucial work with that trite argument!" "There's nothing dismissive with reality, Olyver." Quinn brushed Olyver's fingers off before he reclaimed the scattered papers. "Truth helps our cause." "Bah," Olyver said as he stormed off to his desk. "I need to bring something more substantial to my constituents." With his papers recovered, Quinn brandished them like a conductor's baton. "While the colonization ships have been designed, construction is still multiple years off. We cannot return to the stars until they are finished. You reviewed the same reports I did." Olyver slammed his palm against his desk, his eyes narrowing to slits. "If you two had not dragged your heels on everything, we would've already completed the first colonization ship." Dropping the stack down, Quinn slipped into his seat and leaned back, lifting the front legs just off the floor. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at the ceiling. "If we'd spent our time with the ships, we wouldn't have flourished." "But at what cost?" "I will not argue this point with you again, Olyver." Quinn's chair thumped down as he slammed the documents Olyver had given him...

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