Eloquent Tales & Blues

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...

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...

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...

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...

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...