Chapter 3

In chapter three the Crolats discover they have been abandoned on the planet of Pa'Zawhu by their Kevutian employers. They decide to try and found out what happened.

An excerpt:

Suriu looked toward the same spot and strained to see what Orov was noticing. At first he saw nothing but a great storm of dust on the other side of the dome. Dark gray particles swirled about in all directions. Some of it hit the dome and splayed across the surface. Vorky followed their lead and looked as well but saw nothing more than twisting dirt. But, in a flash he saw something break through the maelstrom higher up. It was a glint of sunlight that reflected itself off of something–something shiny. Suriu saw it too and recognized the pattern.

“A sail!” Suriu murmured.

“A sail?” Vorky repeated. “From a ship?”

“From our ship,” Suriu said.

“What?” Vorky cried out.

Orov snapped himself out of his disbelief and reached down to the squawker to unclip it from his beaded belt.

“Sunship Julinia, this is Blue Squad Ya. We are still on site. I say again: we are still on site. Request pickup.”

The three Crolats held their breath in unison and awaited a response. None came.

“Sunship Julinia, Sunship Jovinia, this is Hejun Orov. We are reporting from the surface. Request immediate pickup. We are still on site. Do you copy?”

Still nothing.

“Any ship! Do you copy? Squad remaining on the surface of Pa’Zawhu. Please respond!”

Again, the three waited in an uncomfortable silence. The hush was then broken by the sound of static on the squawker. Three ears drew close to the box to try and make out any words they could discern from the noise. Instead, the only thing they could make out was a terrible laugh that cut through the crackling before the box again went silent.

Orov, Suriu, and Vorky looked at each other in disbelief and shock.

Orov threw the squawker into the dirt. “I don’t believe this! They are leaving us here!”

“I don’t understand,” said Vorky. “Why aren’t they coming to get us?”

Chapter 2

In chapter 2 (402) we encounter from Book 3. Since his escape from the devastation of Pa'Myshka and his flight to the mysterious world known as Ardis, Erut was finally granted his wish to return home only to find himself carted off to a prison work farm in Kwanchu. There he works up a plan to escape and uses the things he has learned on Ardis to create some interesting diversions and opportunities for himself.

An excerpt:

He crouched at the edge of the building known as the processing plant with its smells of human waste and charred wood. It was one of many places where the recently discovered concoction known as “blast dust” was being produced for the military. Making it was a degrading and dangerous enterprise best left for prisoners and work slaves–like himself. Next to the processing plant was a walkway then came a long garden with a variety of flowers and plants. The dichotomy was stark and intentional. Those who listened well and followed the demands of the guards worked in the garden. Those who did not were left figuratively and literally in it up to their knees. Of the two places, he was more familiar with the latter. He was not one to be cooperative. He had seen and known too much in his time to just take the guards and their Kevutian masters by their word. He wanted out of this prison camp and the day had come.

He heard footsteps moving soft and slow. His heart skipped a beat and he tried not to panic. Running now would only expose him to greater danger and lay waste to his careful planning. He needed to stay focused. Besides, the steps were too light to be those of someone suited in an armored tunican. It must be another prisoner. And it was.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” said the other male prisoner in a soft voice as he approached him.

“Yes. It’s all I think about. I’ve been planning this for nearly a full acadon now. It has to be now or I will just fade away like one of those maksons over there.” He pointed to a large orange flower in the garden that was hunched over and falling away. The other man glanced at the flower beside them.

Erutvumot 8 or “Erut” turned to his friend and took him affectionately by the shoulders. “It’s not too late. You could come with me. You could all come with me.”

Erut’s friend looked into his eyes. Erut could tell that the idea of getting away from this place was inviting to him. It was all any man in this place could think about but the fire of passion that lit momentarily in the man’s eyes died out almost as quick as it came.

“No,” his friend said, bowing his head.

Erut knew his friend felt shame in his cowardice but said nothing about it. The feeling was understandable. Any attempts at escape or signs that something was amiss about the camp could lead to severe punishments. He patted the shoulder of his friend.

“It’s OK,” Erut said. “You needn’t say any more. It’s enough that you’re willing to help me.”

The man raised his head as if it were heavier than the mountains that loomed down upon them just outside the camp. He seemed barely able to maintain his gaze. He peered into Erut’s eyes as if it were the last time he would see him–alive, at least. “Good luck,” he whispered.

Chapter 1

The final book of the Milleran Cluster series begins on the planet of Pa'Zawhu, one of the last planets of the cluster not under the control of the Kevutian Conglomerate. The Kevutians are in the midst of invading and have brought three Crolat mercenaries with them to speed up the process but the Crolats soon discover that something is amiss.

Excerpt:

The thin and frail man felt long hard thumbs dig into the center of his throat and cut off the air supply to his lungs. He gagged and flailed as he tried anything to get his next breath of air but it wasn’t coming. His mind went from simple terror to outright full-scale panic. All he knew was that he was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it. His last hope was to look into the eyes of the one holding his neck in a vice grip. It was an image of contrasts held in time by two strong and opposing desires. Hyson du-lo-Jogu, the emaciated Zawhan, wanted himself to live; the big muscular man in front of him did not.

“I asked you a question,” said the voice of the man holding Hyson in his deadly grip.

Hyson couldn’t have answered even if he wanted. His throat was being closed off. Speech was impossible but he made a coughing gurgling noise to make it seem as if he was trying to give a worthwhile response. Maybe then the monstrous creature before him would let him go. The problem was that he had no idea what was being asked of him. He just knew he needed to appear as if he was trying to cooperate.

“Where...is...your...command..center?” the big man said. He punctuated each word by shaking Hyson’s head. Hyson gurgled some more as the motion allowed small bits of air to get into his lungs but now his eyes felt like they might be squeezed right out of his head.

The big man brought his face in closer to his victim. “Why don’t you answer me?”

The thin and disheveled Zawhan hanging from the tightening fists of the big Crolat was turning colors. The veins in his face were visibly pulsing as if they were trying to come and see for themselves who was bringing his life to a sudden end.

“Because he doesn’t know what you’re saying,” came a heavy voice from behind the big man.

The big man tilted his head just a little in the direction of the voice coming from behind him but kept his focus on the man in his solid grasp.

“Huh?” grunted the big man.

The voice behind him continued: “You could squeeze him like a gorfruit and he still wouldn’t answer you. He doesn’t speak Kevutian.”

The big man released his grip and let the scraggly Zarwhan fall to the floor like a folded paper doll.

“What do you mean he doesn’t speak Kevutian?” said the big man as he turned to face the person behind him. The beaded belt and neckband and the strands of beads attached to each ?? clicked together as he turned. “Everyone speaks Kevutian.”

“Everyone in the Conglomerate speaks Kevutian, Vorky” came the response. “We’re not in the Conglomerate. We’re on Pa’Zawhu.” The man continued by bringing up his left hand in front of him as if he was about to present a gift. “Pa’Zawhu!” he said, then brought up his other hand barely avoiding the coilgun clipped at his side. “Conglomerate!” He set his hands down. “That’s why we’re here, you fool. We’re being paid to help the Kevutians invade this planet so that it can be brought into the Conglomerate.

Book 4

Work has begun on the final book - book 4.

The preliminary book cover design:

A Review

Here are some comments about Book Three (now officially titled The Suicide Fire) from a professional beta reader:

I absolutely loved the opening to this book. It grabbed my attention and made me want to read more... I actually loved all the characters. I usually have an issue when an author has several POVs because sometimes it can all be overwhelming. But that was not the case for this novel. I felt like each character had a very distinctive voice... Ony'a was my favorite character and her voice was written so well that I really wish I had more chapters told from her POV...I loved the plot of this book. I thought it was very unique. There were many twists and turns and I was surprised at the deaths in this book. They were completely unexpected... I thought the writing style was very impressive. It was descriptive and vivid and I was able to picture every scene clearly in my head... Overall, I loved this story. It was a unique plot with well-developed characters and an interesting setting.

Beta readers

The first draft of book 3 will be ready soon and I will be looking for beta or first readers to offer comments and find all the things I missed. I am offering a $20 Starbucks gift card for anyone willing to give the manuscript a quick read and offer comments within thirty days upon receiving it. Anyone willing to help me out?