Some months ago I posted my first as a sort of update on the state of things. This is another one of those!
A lot of things have happened in my life recently, with me finalizing moving across the country, applying for a new job, and a ton of family obligations during the holidays. This doesn't mean I haven't had time to write, just a bit less than I would have hoped.
As some of you may be aware, in the post-chapter for , I mentioned that I would be circling back around to the start of Book 3 to write Saul's chapters. Well, I'm happy to report that I'm halfway to my goal! With 4 of 8 planned chapters written, I'm well on the way. Once I hit 10 chapters (8 planned, +1 if things go long, + an Epilogue) I will start releasing new chapters to my patreon, and I will start releasing them on RoyalRoad once I reach 5 more.
As a treat, I've attached an excerpt below. Tell me what you think!
Well, that's all for now!
Oh! And if you haven't noticed, I've updated the cover art for each book with commissions from !!
Excerpt from "Book 3, Chapter 1 – In Service of a Shattered God":
"Atyvn!" Saul barked as he entered the airlock just ahead of his shift, "what in black earth do you think you're doing?"
Atyvn os Pem, a lopaul gren – an insect species akin to an Old Earth mantis, though twice the height of an average human and less than half the weight – had already suited up ahead of Saul's arrival and was about to open the outer doors to begin their voyage into the void and out to their worksite. Outer doors that would invite the uncaring universe outside to suck all the air out of the station level and in the case of Saul, out of his lungs.
Atyvn paused, their right clawed arm hovered over the keypad that would kill Saul in an agonizing instant. Half-asleep, the normally brilliant bug swivelled its head to look at Saul, its webbed, dinner-plate eyes looking back at him. Saul had half a mind to think Atyvn might just do it out of apathetic spite.
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"S-s-s-sorry Saul-l-l-l" the lopaul gren chittered through mandibles muffled by its bulbous helmet, "I-I-I skipped coff-f-fee this morning."
"I can tell," Saul said. "Let me get my helmet on at least before you kill the rest of the crew."
"Hon-n-n-nest mistake, Calmos-s-s-s," Atyvn chittered, waving Saul over to the lockers to don his envirosuit.
As Saul finished buttoning up his suit and fitted his helmet, they were joined by a conflagration of irrlicht, several dahao, a dozen or so tightly-suited korvast, five more lopaul gren of varying hues, and notably no baku; their constitution limiting them to jobs within the safety that the confines of Barrintor's pressurized atmosphere allowed.
The korvast arrived pre-suited, as was their way, never leaving the confines of their suit and so Saul had little idea to their actual appearance. The dahao dressed with measured swiftness as their snake-like form made it easy to slip in and out of their envirosuits, complicated only by their subtle fleshy fins that they used for manipulation as they stood upright on flattened tail tips.
The irrlicht were a more baffling story entirely. Wisp-like and glowing in their form with flesh as rigid as hardened steel, hovered about in the low gravity trailed by tail-like protrusions that resembled a man's forearm. Able to raise and lower their body to improbable temperatures and able to withstand the vacuum unperturbed, made them adept welders and assemblers and had Saul often wondering what the hell he and the rest of them were doing there wielding simple arc-torches.
Elsewhere in the community, Saul had come across many baku, of course, along with a good number of vasser, appearing to just be ferrying goods to and from the station, and even a few wayward fels although sluggish and mute they appeared lost and far removed from the rest of their race.
The korvast were also numerous, but Saul had quickly understood that they were here working by choice, under a certain temporary exchange of some kind.
Humans in contrast, were an oddity. A curiosity if not for being seen as a nuisance, humans were seldom seen on Barrintor, at least in the rotations that Saul was allowed to frequent. Across the entire three years he had been here, separated from his home and from his son, Cole, he had only encountered Lisa every few months when she crossed back in from an outer-system scouting party, Belcia only a handful of times when he was forced to bring a particularly irregularly-shaped mechanism or component up from the fabrication yards where she held residence, only ever getting in a quick word of "are you okay?" where she would reply with a terse "peachy" with thinly-veiled ire. Apart from those two, Saul only came across two others in passing, one of dark hair and skin, and another of odeen stature.
There was no sign of the traitor Francis Aiden, and Saul feared he had turned Moby over to der Waals. How stupid he felt still mulling over the events that led to the Betty's destruction, stupid for ever offering that many even a morsel of trust. What Saul wouldn't give to even the slate.
Worst of all, there had been no word from Cole. Saul had been duped back on Kesish by Arenor, the hauntingly cruel master of all quisabar into thinking he would show leniency towards him, only to send him to a prison of another form.