Introducing Colin Gale Images

Who and what is Colin Gale Images, you may ask, and why should you care? Well, the answer's pretty straight forward.

First of, who is Colin.

He's one of my best friends, we've known each other for the better part of a decade and first met at university. He is of Ulster heritage and proud of the fact, and the only person whom I lost to a drinking game over six years ago now. Tell you what, instead of me telling you who he is, let him introduce himself and his work.

I am a New Zealander based in the beautiful South Island City of Dunedin.

My approach to photography is improvisation, using 'the rules' only when they make the shot, and having a DIY attitude. It will come as no surprise that I am self taught.

I don't have the latest gear, and I don't have endless dollars to spend on gadgets, courses, and HDR.

I strive to bring you the an image that is recognizable at the image I saw at the moment I pressed the shutter.

I believe that good photography should connect you to the place and time of the capture. It shouldn't look like something removed from reality and overly produced.

My Passion is in capturing Nature and Scenery, from Macro Shot to Wide Angle Landscapes, Innovative Urban Highlights, and honest portraits of people. I love to celebrate the amazing City in which I live.

Check him out.

Bob Mayer says it best

One of the joys of working from home is the many distractions available to me. Just as equally, another joy is being told by the boss to take the day as it comes and just relax (until January 5, 2015 that is). So, distraction it is.

As we all know, I am writer. Or more accurately, I see myself as a writer, and follow the blogs of various authors and experts to do with writing and publishing. It's what I do. It's how I roll, literally. See . . .?

That is why I don't drive a big truck...

Okay, getting off topic here.

I follow stuff to do with writing. If I am lucky, I even chat with one or two of my writing idols about such things. Anyways, one of these authors I follow is Bob Mayer and I would to link you to his latest article on his sixteen thoughts for authors in regards to publishing next year.

The thing that stands out in Bob Mayer's article is this; continue producing material that readers would love. So, excuse me while I go and do just that.

Unveiling Cover Up

Two posts in one day?

Awesome.

Following on from my last post, let me introduce to you Cover Up.

The story follows Thaddeus Akers and the crew of the GCGS Eastwind, which is part of the Colonial Guard Programme ran by the United Colonies Commission, as they unwittingly stumble into a potential discover that would alter life in the Solar System and Alpha Centauri forever.

Just to let you know, the story was written back in late 2012; about the time Nigel stopped blogging. So the writing is a little off, but I have edited it with a fine toothcomb. Really, I have. 

It's also live on Amazon, for 99 cents. 

Nameless story titled

So, not only is Nigel back posting again, but we talked for a little bit. Admittedly, it's one of those things I actually missed doing with him. We had both encouraged one another to write something more original than a character's post in a play-by-email roleplaying game. Anyway, we talked about our upcoming projects and I showed him my four drafts that I wanted to get done in 2015.

One of them was a novella, a nameless story featuring a quick romp-who-knows-what action and so forth. Well, he read it. And, he liked it. Nigel was also was nice enough to suggest that I stop polish and repolishing, and reediting the story too (and a couple of others too, but that's for another post) and just put it up on Amazon or Smashwords.

I said that I'll think about it.

So please excuse me while I stop polishing and reworking this novella.

A new update soon.

Upcoming Projects for 2015

Christmas and New Years are fast approaching, and I am grateful for that. Other than spending time with family and loved ones, next week will give me a chance to go over my writing projects I want to get stuck into in 2015 (which is about time, this year feels like I've done nothing in regards to creative writing). The most obvious are the two primary titles in my A Puppet on a String series; Enemy Within and Collateral.

Both stories are in the process of being edited and written, and am rather excited. The main character in the series, Jack Crowley, is going to be thrown into the proverbial deep end in my stories, and am looking forward if he will survive. Both stories in the series are set in and around South Africa for reasons that I will explore in another post next year.

Then there is Oranges. I must confess that Oranges is a hard one for me. It was wrtten a long time ago and yet it is a solid story, one I firmly believe you would enjoy, but it is a story that needs lots of tender loving care. Right now the story is a stand alone thing, set on Mars more or less. The final version may be different. My hopes had been to put it up on Amazon before Christmas, but that will not be doable.

Then there is another, a novella roughly 20,000 words long. I can't say anything more about the as yet untitled novella, largely because I need to go over a fine tooth comb and see where it leads. All I will say is that it was written a couple of years back and had been largely forgotten.

Until next update.

Stories for ebook lovers this coming Christmas

Would you believe that Christmas is roughly ten days from now?
Pretty scary that, wouldn't you think? Especially if no one had time to purchase presents for family and friends. Fortunately for you, I may have a solution; ebooks. They are awesome, mostly because they don't require trees being cut down. 

Here is my list, just click on the headings:

Black Donald, by Nigel Gillson

Being forced to leave your teaching job and move to a remote part of Scotland, was not Michael Cameron's ideal choice, but when his wife, Mary, was offered a once in a lifetime opportunity for success, he didn't have the heart to say no.

Then he witnesses the murder of a first year student during a satanic ritual, thrusting him into a world he does not understand or believe, ultimately culminating in his wife's disappearance.

Wracked with guilt and despair, Cameron charges to her rescue only to discover he has a much larger part to play in the colossal battle between the spiritual forces of good and evil.

Callisto Collection, by Erica Conroy

Includes the novellas, novelettes and all character interviews from this fun Science Fiction Romance series and contains science fiction, romance, aliens, blood and guts, humor, time travel, a cheeky (slutty) Duarr and genetically engineered telepathic (killer) children! No, I'm serious, Killer children.


The stories included are . . .

Adrift

Hearts will ache and heads will roll!

Stealing damning evidence from a covert ops section of Space Corps makes Jasmine a target. So what does she do? What any good undercover investigative journalist would do, she runs. Hops the first civilian
transport ship off the planet, but with the bad guys on her heels who knows how long she’ll live. A vacationing half-alien colonel who is a deft hand with a sword might just increase her odds of survival, but helping this woman could be hazardous to his health!

Taken


Respect the enemy, fear his daughter...

Peace negotiations are easy right? Not when you're learning a language composed of hisses, growls and other guttural sounds. And that's not even the tough part for recently divorced diplomat Viktor Jacobs. No, that would be matching wits with the fiercely intelligent daughter of the opposing side. Between dodging her claws, avoiding a myriad of cultural taboos, and not accidentally getting married or killed, he has to somehow make the Lyrissians see that joining the Alliance of Worlds is the best choice for all of their futures.

United

She just can't get him out of her head--literally!

The exciting conclusion to the Callisto trilogy! The mastermind behind the genetically engineered children is revealed, mothers are kidnapped, feelings are felt and shockingly Xon grows up–just a little. The only question that matters is: does the Duarr finally get the girl? You’ll have to read United to find out!

Plus: Nancy and the Caveman ~ Anari and the Future ~ Norik and His Daughter

Bonus material: All four interviews ~ Species list ~ Introduction to The Feisty Princess - Episode 1

*

Wait?

What?!

Since when did I promote romantic science fiction? Since now really, and mostly because Erica is a good writer.

Allusions of Innocence, edited by Jax Goss

Allusions of Innocence, edited by Jax Goss, is an anthology of short stories aimed at adults containing smart, precocious child protagonists. Many of the stories in the book are very dark and twisted, though they run the gamut from horror to comedy. The world of a child is not all innocence and sweetness. Children see the world differently to adults, slightly askew, somewhat less preconceived. They see the things adults have trained ourselves to miss. Their world is less explicable, more wondrous, more frightening. Here we have 18 such worlds, some funny, most dark, many creepy. Innocence has a dark side, and many of these stories will introduce you to it, sideways, sidelong, from the corner of your eye. Remember how strange the world was when you were a child? Welcome back to that world. The book contains 18 stories from 18 excellent writers.

The Number of Characters in Oranges

I posted earlier about my novelette, titled Oranges. Today is no exception, and I wanted to talk to you about

the number of characters one needs in a story.

For starters, let me be the first to admit that the original manuscript of Oranges had way too many characters to begin with.

For a story that was just on 10,000 words one requires no more than one main character, not a dozen. The more you have the problematic it gets, especially if you want to include all of them. In the first A Puppet on a String novella, I actually have one main character and a primary opposing character. But the difference is that the word count is much higher.

As I did an edit run and slight rewrite, I decided to put a focus on the senior non-commissioned officer and build up his relationship with the officer in command of the main character's unit. Jax did indicate that the reporter, seen in the original version, was also interesting. But . . . well . . . I am unsure.

An Orange update

The other day I wrote about submitting a novelette to my editor and her response.

Across the Board: Oranges, so far so good: So I wanted to write a small update about an upcoming title, Oranges . My editor Jax had this to say: Well so far it's a solid story ...

Today is a follow on.



This is her feedback:

I have my usual issues with your ending - it's all very sudden and
unsatisfying. Like there's this massive lead up, but then bam it's
over. 

I think you need to extend that last bit of
fight sequence. You're in the action, and then it's like you're
reporting f

rom a distance. The last couple of paragraphs with the orange
are cool, but before you get there you need way more, well, action. 

BUT
it is a pretty complete story, which is good. :) There are not a
bajillion loose strings, which is good. I just think you need to expand
the climactic action sequence. 

Why am I sharing this with you? That's pretty easy, I want to post more regularly for one. For another, I wanted to share with you the journey of writing and then rewriting a story, and then go through the process of cleaning it up. As a side note, the current draft is 10,179 words long. I am curious how much of a word count I will have in my next update.

I prefer A

So, I found this image to your right on my facebook page . . .

These flags are currently doing the rounds after the Prime Minister of New Zealand made it an election issue out of changing this country's flag. The fact that the money spent for this could be better utilised elsewhere, like pouring it into the social services and schools, is not the point of this blog entry. I want to write about why we should keep the flag as it is (hence the title of this post, I prefer A). You see, I like the current flag. Yes, it may be confused for the Australian one, but so what? What many forget is that both New Zealand and Australia are interlinked culturally, historically and politically to a certain level. 

But my point is not that.My point is that our current flag actually means something, and that there is a history behind it. Seriously, there is - go to the NZFlag website or New Zealand History to learn more.

For me the flag shows our British heritage, which this country was part of until 1947 when the New Zealand parliament finally passed the Statute of Westminster Adoption Act; henceforth giving the country greater autonomy as a sovereign state. Look, I understand there are grievances between the various iwi and the Crown, but we have here what other colonised nations had not; an indigenious nation state that was created to help local Maori trade overseas and the Treaty of Waitangi. Yes, there have been problems. A change of flag would not change anything, just waste tax payer's money.

Thirteenth's Luck teaser

ONE

Near East Carona and Juventae chasms, Valles Marineris

09: 45 am, local

The highlands were testimony that the entire countryside was a war zone, and had been since the Global Security Agreement endeavoured to restore order in the violent corridors through the eastern Valles Marineris colonies. Unrest had spilled to the other colonies and in near-orbit, as a war in all but name raged between those wanting a return to the status quo—essentially falling under the primarily Earth-based GSA or corporate protection—and those wanting the planet independent. Somewhat inevitably, also in the middle of it all were the members of the ‘Lucky Thirteen’.

“Well,” drawled Specialist Stephanie Crow, a brown-skinned and deceptively fresh faced young woman who nonetheless was a veteran of several peacekeeping assignments, “This is fun.”

The gunner gave her a small grin, and yawned. The long compliment of tactical hovercraft and armoured freight carriers were thirty kilometres northwest of Orinoco. Spread out in a line, the convoy carried enough humanitarian aid to feed an entire village for over an entire month. The platoon was en route to a small agricultural village, supposedly a friendly zone, to hand over the aid to Red Cross personnel who would then distribute them to the villagers who desperately needed food and basic supplies. The aid packages could, of course, simply have been air dropped but the peacekeeping commander thought it better that the aid be delivered physically and under armed guard, as separatist guerrillas had been known to steal aid that had been air dropped in the past. “Beats walking the streets,” he then allowed as their leading craft tilted to compensate for the hillock’s angle, making the corporal turn to eye Specialist Dustin Stokes. “And where else can we have Dusty display his driving prowess?”

The young specialist grinned, but kept his attention on the nine-meter long attack craft’s flight controls.  

“I have a few suggestions Byron,” grumbled Crow.

Corporal Byron Jones smirked, and turned his attention to the rusted prairie. Like Crow, he had been too late to have had served during the climax of the civil unrest due to still being back on Earth. However, in the few short weeks since reporting to the Lucky Thirteen, Jones had been tasked to command one of the squads attached to the convoy. He frowned, and checked his wristwatch. The convoy had another seven hours of daylight left.  Jones wanted to be back on base when night fell, not because he was scared of the enemy but because had a date with a blonde medic with melting green eyes, and a rather mean right hook and he had no desire to stand her up like last time.  His jaw still ached where she had indicated her dislike of being left waiting for a date he didn’t show up to.

“Come on, Dusty,” he called to Stokes. “Pick up the pace!”  With that said, the corporal looked over his shoulder.

Further down the column, in the second hovercraft, Lieutenant Erik Greenberg ungainly lowered himself into his seat after checking the horizon in so many minutes. The apparent nervousness didn’t worry the other occupants aboard, largely because they were old Mars hands selected by the Platoon Sergeant. In turn Greenberg was a new addition, a recent graduate of West Point who opted for off-world duty at first opportunity. He sat down, and fumbled with the lightweight A-4 e-reader. The specialist behind the flight controls, along with the other two noncoms, ignored the fact that he nearly dropped it, with all three feigning interest towards the world outside.

“Relax,” said the gunner.

It was the last and only thing said since the convoy left camp.

Accepting a piece of tobacco flavoured gum, Jones looked up sharply as something caught his eyes and he thought that h heard a low whistle but seeing the lieutenant’s hovercraft explode. “Dusty!” he shouted. “Step on it!”

The question was, where to from here—

For her part, Crow scrambled towards the navigations station that doubled as a scanner.

“What are your orders?” she demanded. Jones sat frozen, feeling everything slow down as the leading hovercraft’s nose exploded. He could see several soldiers tossed out like rag dolls, making the corporal if they had been killed instantly, while at the same time the lieutenant’s craft listed over to port then to starboard. Another explosion rocked the hovercraft, and Jones winced. “Corporal—” Crow’s growl snapped through his momentary freeze, “—orders—now—!”

***

To read on, go to Amazon and purchase Thirteenth's Luck for only 95 cents (or click on the second cover on your right). When done, please leave a review.

A Puppet on a String, A Writing Update

So it's the weekend, and work for the business has been done. This means writing, along with an attempt in keeping this blog updated.

Today I want to talk to you about my attempt in working on a series of interlinked stories. As you know, I

Mock Cover for new series

wanted to try that with Gene Bukowski in Compromised and Across the Board. It was not meant to be. Sure, the motivation to do it was there, but I lacked the necessary skills to pull it off. Then Jax became my editor and writing mentor, to learn more about her go Passport to Everywhere. With her guidance, my writing skills have improved.

It is with these skills that I will endeavour to try writing a series once more. Tentatively titled Piotr Mierzejewski's A Puppet on a String, it will be comprised of novellas and novelettes. The story will feature Jack Crowley, a Sergeant in the Australian Army and a Military Police Investigator, and his many adventures. I will be honest with you, Bukowski and even the characters featured in With Prejudice may end up in this.

The first in the series, Enemy Within, is written. All I'm doing is working with Jax in polishing the manuscript and am deciding if new scenes need adding. Once it is ready, I will let you know. In the interim I wanted to invite you into my journey in seeing this series (and my other works) come to you in ebook form.

Oranges, so far so good

So I wanted to write a small update about an upcoming title, Oranges. My editor Jax had this to say:

Well so far it's a solid story - the writing needs some work, but I think you expected that...

To be honest with you, I had expected the draft to be all over the place; much like a drunken sailor on a rollercoaster, but in word form. 

Being told that it's solid is nice, heart warming. Okay, Jax said that the writing needed some work, but that is to be expected as I wrote the piece back in 2011 after all. My writing has changed since then, evolved even. At least Jax and Nigel seem to think so, as have my other friends who had the pleasure (or is it misfortune?) of reading my attempts throughout the years.

Right, back to work . . .

Whatever happened to Oranges?

This happened . . .

A while back, my friend Nigel guest posted on my blog. Here is the link. As you can see, it was ages ago. You may be asking yourself "what of it?", considering that I've admitted in my previous post that I had a number of false starts writing-wise. The story was written back in 2011, and it had been my intention to simply showcase the story as it was. Nigel had liked it, but said it felt unfinished. Almost as if I was starting a story with multiple sub-plots and then boom . . . just walked away from it.

As you can see by the cover page (yes, it even had a ebook cover designed by little ol' me too) above the story was to be a prelude to a bunch of tales dealing with a Martian war of independence. All going there will be a new part later on in January-ish . . . or Febuary at the latest.

Yes, that means that in the new year I will try writing two serials and work full-time and have a life.

Watch this space my friends.

What have I been up to this year

As things go, what I had planned for this year hasn't really eventuated. I had hoped to work on a series featuring an old character, by the name of Gene Bukowski. You may remember him from Compromised, a Gene Bukowski Adventure. The idea was that the story, along with Across the Board would be part of a Exit Strategy was to be some alternate universe thingy.  As it turned out, I never really got around to writing them. Well, no. I have. Snapshot and Backdoor Straight have been written, but they will be recycled.

shared universe and

Does that mean that I've given up on writing, you ask? Uhh, no. I know that this year had a couple of false starts in writing, but that was unavoidable as I work full-time. Still, I have been very fortunate to reconnect with an old colleague of mine from my days as a IT support at the University of Otago. Jax is now a freelance editor and even has her own publishing label, check it out here. With her help, I have been working on and off in improving my writing technique, along with working on a new title within a new series that I'm hoping for a release in the new year. I won't reveal too much in this post what the serial will be about, at least not yet.

In the interim, I want you to check my stuff out on Amazon and Smashwords. Please buy them, as they are only 99 cents, and leave a review up. If you or a loved one has an e-reader and prefers short works, then why not . . . right?

Hey peeps, just popping by

It has been a considerable period of time since I last wrote anything of consequence, whether it be some random rambling to a progress on my writing. Then again, life has been generally very busy between work and . . . more work. Such is adult life, no? Have I been writing, you ask. The answer is a "kind of have, but not really".

You see, this year has been a bit of a limbo where writing is concerned. The good news is that I wrote something, but it's a question if it will see the light of day. Thanks largely in part to some good teaching tools from my editor, my writing has improved as a consequence however. This means that my next writing project will be better, more refined and outright far more action packed then before.

With Prejudice 2

Previously on With Prejudice:

“We have a situation,” Takata announced.

That was nothing unusual. There was always some sort of situation.

“Anywhere in particular,” Akers wanted to know, “or is this just a blanket statement?”

Takata’s response was to snort. “It just is.”

“So, what’s the situation?”

“It’ Baric.”

And now:

Wednesday, 10 November, 2049

Not far from Jozo Baric’s residence

Kamala, Uganda

5: 32 am

He eyed the neighbourhood schematic on the global-positioning screen absently, noting the increased security, while grabbing a white bottle full of prescription anti-sleep stimulant tablets. Sitting back in the driver’s seat, he uncapped the bottle and tipped two pills out onto his palm. Akers stared at the bullet shaped stims, debating internally whether he should take them or not? The advantage would be that the hangover would go away, and he’d be alert. Yes, there were side effects, such as a big loss of energy after twelve hours, but it helped him function. The fact that the last argument with Baric was about his over-dependency wasn’t lost on Akers; Baric had threatened to go to Takata. And Akers was already on thin ice with Takata for turning up hungover too much.

He slapped the stims into his mouth, swallowed and breathed out slowly. As he waited for them to kick in, he eyed the scene before him. The intersection that led onto Mutungo Tank Road from Port Bell Road was blocked off by a pair of police cars and an armoured personnel carrier. Not far behind them Akers could make out a row of fire engines.

With the stims kicking in, Akers felt an adrenalin rush.

Satisfied, Akers got out of the car and strode towards the nearest of the police officers milling about near the APC.

“Morning officers,” Akers said as he showed the assembled officers the Interpol badge that hung around his neck.

One of the officers, sporting a couple of stripes on his epaulets, stepped in his way.

“Wasn’t aware we called your lot.”

“You didn’t,” replied Akers.

#

“Thank you for seeing me, Chief,” said Akers after being passed on to the Chief Fire Officer George Okella, a short fireplug of a man whose fire-fighting equipment looked as if it had been used regularly.

“Not a problem,” replied Okello, offering his hand. “So, what brings Interpol here?”

“Friend of mine, actually,” replied Akers, shaking hands with Okella.

“He got a name?”

“Lieutenant Jozo Baric,” said Akers, pulling out his communicator and selected a recent photo before handing it over. “He lives in one of the apartments down Mutungo Tank.”

Akers watched as the smaller man studied the image on the communicator intently, and then handed it back, gesturing that Akers follow.

He did so, easily keeping pace with Okella.

“What do you know?” the fire chief asked.

Truth was, he knew very little. Takata only became aware of the fire by virtue of having been told by one of the communications specialists, who had been monitoring the police scanner.

“Not much,” offered Akers with an accompanying shrug. “All I was told was that no one has heard from Jozo.”

“And you think he’s here?”

“Sensors don’t lie, Chief,” replied Akers.

Okella just rolled his shoulders in response as he led the way. Akers followed, and continued looking about. Fire trucks and command vehicles, distinct in their florescent yellow and red livery, stood in a row. Three more trucks were facing the burned out husk of a seven-storey building, with water cannons pouring a steady flow of fire-suppressant into the smouldering remains. Here and there, he could make out clusters of people being catered to by paramedics and fire-fighters alike.

“We’ve pretty much evacuated a large chunk of the street to a centre not far from here,” Okella went on. “This entire neighbourhood has a high concentration of foreigners, Europeans mostly, and a few other nationalities. So yes, we’ve started processing who’s here permanently and who is here short term.”

“Was my partner one of the evacuated?” asked Akers.

“Hard to say.”

Akers looked at him, and raised an eyebrow.

“We rescued several people who were too slow in getting out,” explained Okella. “Those in critical condition were ambulanced away.”

Akers turned his attention to the buildings, frowning as he did. The apartments were state of the art, built around the same time the European Space Agency secured the rights to building the Unity Space-Elevator in Uganda. The end result was a high migration of Europeans, many on short-term rotating assignments to do with the design and construction of the space-elevator. However, many came here permanently, resettling and taking advantage of the regional economic boom.

“But you’re saying he’s still here,” Okella reminded him.

Akers nodded.

“And your office can’t get in touch with him?”

Akers shook his head.

“Hmm ...”

Akers eyed the smouldering buildings. If Baric was indeed somewhere within the affected area then he was as good as dead. Which raised the issue of Baric’s daughter. Was she with him when it happened, or elsewhere? He grimaced.

“At present we haven’t got a clue what caused the fire,” Okella continued, forcing Akers to catch up. “Neither do we know its point of origin.”

“So you don’t know if there are people still in there.”

Okella stopped and looked up at him. “If they are –”

“Yeah,” Akers already knew what the fire chief meant, “they’re probably dead.”

“A sad fact, but nonetheless.”

“Do you think it was deliberate?”

“The apartments had their fire safety inspection only a few months back,” countered Okella, “and the safety features are designed to kick in the moment smoke density and heat increases.”

“Can it be tampered with?” asked Akers, his expression grim as he watched another fire truck being brought in.

“Only if someone had access to the central processing system of whatever security firm had that installed in the first place,” offered Okella.

Akers grunted. There may be an opening for his involvement here, the case of Baric and his daughter notwithstanding. He would have to do a cross reference of which of the occupants worked on the Unity Space-Elevator, or for the European Embassy. Most importantly, he needed to find Baric’s daughter.

“How soon would you know if anyone else is still in those apartments?” Akers asked, tearing his eyes away.

“When the fire’s out,” replied Okella.

Well, obviously! Thought Akers sardonically, shaking his head. “Well, when you do, can you please let me know?” he asked while pulling out his wallet and slipping out a business card which he handed over.

Okella looked at the card and back at Akers. “Wouldn’t this be outside your jurisdiction, Sergeant?”

“Normally,” agreed Akers.

“But?”

“A Lieutenant from the European Police Office is currently missing, presumed dead by your estimation,” replied Akers as he glanced down at the fire chief. “You tell me.”

Okella bobbed his head while pocketing the business card. “And in the mean time?”

Akers looked to the nearest paramedics.

“I need to find his daughter,” he said, turning back to Okella.

With Prejudice 1

Introduction:

Good evening my friends, and let me welcome you to a little experiment, a story written by me and posted onto my blog. Each post will be titled with “With Prejudice” and will be followed by a number. Why am I doing this, you ask? Simple answer is pretty simple, it will get me into the writing routine on a more regular basis—at which point you the reader will hopefully get to see a new scene of around 500 to 800 words, if not a tad more, once or twice a week—and secondly, you would be entertained.

The story will feature one of my favourite characters from my play-by-email days, where he would take on the role of a sergeant in the European Police Office in the year 2049. He will be a little grittier and a tad rougher around the edges, but some of you may recognise him. The setting is Kamala, in Uganda.

Please do provide feedback in the comments section below. Besides, now and then I may ask you on what you think on what may happen next, but don’t worry if I go ahead and do something different (the likelihood of that happening is fifty-fifty... eh, what can I say, I am a writer... we’re weird like that).

Anyway, sit back, grab a cup of coffee or beverage of your choice, kick your shoes off your feet (or just throw them at your nearest colleague if you are reading this over your lunch break), and enjoy.

Story Premise:

Uganda has experienced an economic boom, thanks by in large to the jointly operated space-elevator. With European law enforcement providing support, the country also has entered a new era of peace and unity.

The space-elevator was seen as its saviour.

It was also seen as its ball and chain, where some believed that the politicians had sold Uganda out to Europe’s attempt in renewed colonisation.

Upon being called that his best friend and partner was killed in a fire, Sergeant Bowman Akers of the European Police is thrust into a cobweb of corporate backed espionage, disseat and divided loyalties, and tasked to break in a new partner.

The Story:

Wednesday, 10 November, 2049

Bowman Akers residence

Kamala, Uganda

4: 49 am

The moon lit the bedroom’s interior sufficiently through the partially opened window; its brilliance clearly seen above the apartment complex. After five years stationed here Bowman Akers was immune to the spectacle as he rolled over and reached for the wireless clip-on earphone and microphone. Frowning as he eyed the caller’s identification credentials on the communicator’s small screen, it was his boss. He clipped the ’phone over his left ear and tapped it.

“This better be good, Shoe,” he grumbled as he lay back down and stare at the ceiling.

“I bet that you only got home a half an hour ago,” the voice of Shinshuu ‘Shoe’ Takata sounded muffled through the tiny speaker. Or was that disappointment? Akers wasn’t really sure. Then again, he didn’t really care as he massaged his forehead.

He then checked the time, and barely suppressed a groan. He had stumbled back into his apartment at four in the morning, and looked as if he had somehow managed to catch some sleep over the last two hours. He was quite happy with that. two hours sleep seemed like his personal best. “A while ago,” he amended, while running his hand over his jaw. The grimace returned. Akers needed a shave.

“Don’t tell me you’re hung over,” voiced Takata in his ear.

“All right,” agreed Akers, wondering if his friend and boss was going on the soapbox again and lecture him on why Akers shouldn’t dive back into the bottle, or why he should not be overly reliant on anti-sleep stimulants for that matter. Not that he did go out with the aim of getting drunk, even if a part of him wanted to. As for the stims? Well, that was easy to rationalise. Most often than not, Takata had him called away to spearhead an away team or assist in some investigation closer to home.

Still, all he really did was go clubbing with some of the others from the office that were going off-duty at the time, even if somewhere along the way he ditched them and went solo. Or was that the other way round? Akers wasn’t entirely sure. “I won’t tell you that I’m hung over,” he finished and then sat up on the side of his bed, and felt the bedroom spin. “Much,” he muttered, pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes briefly. Frowning, he breathed out slowly. “There a reason why you called?”

“We have a situation,” Takata announced.

That was nothing unusual. There was always some sort of situation.

“Anywhere in particular,” Akers wanted to know, “or is this just a blanket statement?”

Takata’s response was to snort. “It just is.”

“So, what’s the situation?”

“It’ Baric.”

Akers frowned, momentarily confused. “What about Jozo?”

“When did you last see him?”

“Day before yesterday,” answered Akers, sitting up straighter and focused on the moon.

“Yeah, he ought to be enjoying some quality time with his kid.”

“Ought to be?”

“You know Baric better then I,” countered Takata via the earpiece. “Anyway, we got word that there was an explosion over at Nakawa ...” Akers straightened as he sat on his bed. Baric had an apartment there. “... The thing is, Bow, we can’t get a hold of him.”

“Can you pinpoint where he is?” asked Akers, the hangover largely forgotten now.

To better facilitate where everyone was, and be easily tracked by satellite, every member of the European Police Commission had a tracking chip inserted just below their left shoulder blade upon graduating.

“Right now, all we can tell is that he’s somewhere within the affected area.”

“That’s comforting,” muttered Akers as he turned his attention to the floor, looking for his clothes.

“I need you to investigate,” Takata announced.

“Have the locals called us in?”

“Not yet ...”

Akers regarded the moon, bright in the night’s sky.

“Ah, you still with me, Bow?” Takata sounded in his ear.

His thoughts turned to when he first met Baric, where the two started to love hating one another. Still, they had became friends afterwards. The two had spoken only a couple days ago, before Baric was to go on leave. Or more accurately—they argued.

“Can I shower first?” he finally asked, getting up as he did.

For the next installment, go here.