Chuck Wendig’s Flash Fiction challenge was to pick one of ten titles and write a story to it. At first, my inner muse said “write something pretty,” but then that old dog, Arekan whispered, “You’d been looking for a entree into the next chapter of Pirate’s Luck.” Though it is part of the larger work, I’ve tried to make it as standalone as possible. So, here is the next chapter of Pirate’s Luck. Warning: Adult themes though more a suggestion than action.
Discount Skin Ticket
The main drag of the spaceport town flashed and jittered with bright lights, blinking signs and sharp sounds that sprang from nowhere. Walking side by side to Arekan, Obon gawked at the women and boys standing or sitting seductively behind their plasglass windows. One young boy licked his lips salaciously as the men of the Rogan walked by.
“We should grab that one,” said Obon. “He’d be fun.”
“So you like boys?” said Egren who stood on Arekan’s left.
Obon shrugged. “I like them all. A touch of skin, whiff of their hair, tasting them.”
The Rogan’s crewmember ran his tongue across his lips and Arekan shivered. Unlike many of his shipmates, Obon was a pirate born into the trade. That he crewed on the shitehole of the Rogan was a testament to his degenerate nature.
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Image by Starry Night Graphix.
Pain accompanied every movement as Grokin pushed him up the ladder that led to the engine room.
Arekan stared stupidly at the long cylinder of the null space displacement unit that ran through the center of the compartment. Except for a few class tours on his home ship, he’d never seen one. But this piece of equipment as everything else on this tub looked in disrepair. Its paint cracked and peeled along its casing, and the rust brown of corrosion marked the unit’s seams. Arekan grew queasier at witnessing the poor condition of this major aspect of the propulsion system.
The engineer whipped his head toward Arekan and Grokin and frowned. Tinnen was extremely lean and white-haired. A deep scar cut into his cheek running from his ear to his jaw, which deepened with the scowl he gave both men.
“This is who you brought?” said Tinnen incredulously.
Continue Reading–> Chapter Eight~Twice Cursed
Image by Starry Night Graphixs
Here is the last cover for Arekan’s War. I’m not printing the blurb yet because there are too many spoilers to Book 3, Tour of Duty. But in book 4 Arekan finds out the hard way that “no good deed goes unpunished.” Suffice it to say he is placed in a situation where he has to make some very uncomfortable decisions to satisfy matters of honor. Can he swallow the exigencies and imperatives of command and lordship even if they go against everything Arekan believes? Will he sacrifice his integrity to kept his promises? And can his heart bear the ultimate price of his compromises?
Cover Art by Starry Night Graphix.
Chuck Wendig posted his most impossible challenge of all:
Grab 1000 words of your NaNoWriMo work-in-progress (or, really, even if you’re not participating, any WIP of yours), and slap those 1000 words online for all to see.
Eeek. I mean, I’m just not ready to do that. It’s still working, foaming in the vat of writerly inspiration, not quite ready for public inspection. Instead I give you the first thousand words of Forced Labor, which I’m happy with.
I don’t know though. My twenty-eight year old middle son read the first four hundred words and thought it was pretty cool. (I didn’t know he picked up a copy.) But he has been too busy to read the rest of it. How do you get too busy to read your mother’s work? There is no good excuse. Ahem.
Forced Labor (2/3’s of First Chapter)
Arekan sat on his narrow bunk in the bowels of the aging space vessel stitching his forearm. It was a nasty gash, but nothing unusual for him. It would be just one more scar in the litany of scars that scored his body. He winced as he threaded the needle into his flesh, wishing he had liquor in him before he did this.Continue reading Chuck Wendig’s Newest Challenge: First 1,000 Words
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Arekan leads a hardscrabble and solitary life as a hired blade for whatever merchant space vessel that will take him. The problem with twenty-two year old Arekan is that he causes trouble wherever he goes, enough so that he uses variety of aliases. Fired by his last captain, stranded in a foreign nation, he is approached by a member of the outlaw family who once ruled the Kyn Empire. The imperious man offers him employment. The job? Smuggle his son into the Kyn Empire.
Arekan hates the condescending manner of Sinlon Mor’a’stan, and he despises the man’s privileged and haughty son, Santir. Unable to refuse Sinlon’s offer he takes the job. But guarding Santir on the thirty day journey into Kyn on a ship of hardened spacers proves to be a challenge. Between ship politics, pirates, a failed spacewalk and boarding by the Kyn military, Arekan has to use every trick he knows to keep Santir in one piece.
It’s just too bad that Santir chooses to stiff Arekan on his pay. And for that Santir and the Mor’a’stani pay the steepest price of all.
Cover by Starry Night Graphic Arts.