The Ganesha Campaign

This is part of a larger space opera story I've been working on for a while. 

     Jezzie went over to the shelf and examined the holoprint.  It showed Liam and two other people in Alliance Army uniforms.  One of them was a young pretty woman.  The other was Logan.  From Liam’s apparent age the print was about twenty years old.  But Logan only looked a few years younger than the man she had met earlier that day.

Leyla’s Tale (Part Six)

     I had been considering a move to the United States for some time.  After World War II many Hidden Ones moved there.  The devastation of the war in Europe made it easier to fabricate identities with no paperwork.  Just about every large concentration of European immigrants in the U.S. had a few Hidden Ones in it.

     My recent encounter with Hans Glickenhoff convinced me of the need to abandon my current identity and move on.  I had a score to settle with him but Hans held all the high cards at the moment.  I would have to wait until I had the advantage to confront him.  So it seemed the right time to make the move to the New World.  

A Hunter’s Tale

I tried to write this as a standalone story about the Hunters so it’s technically not part of Leyla’s Tale.  If you’ve read the first part of Leyla’s Tale, you’ll realize what this scene is.  If not, I recommend reading part one right after reading this.

This was Gustav’s first Hunt.  He had helped on other Hunts as a driver but this was his first time as an actual Hunter.  He was nervous and excited.  The creatures were dangerous, especially when cornered in their lair. 

Leyla's Tale (Part Five)

     The next day I was escorted to a courtroom.  Two men in dark suits and a severely dressed woman with a tight bun of gray hair sat on a raised platform at one end of the room.  I was directed to a chair placed squarely in front of and facing the judges.  Armed guards flanked the door.  The witness chair was flanked by a pair of desks.  At the desk to my left sat two men.  One was a nervous looking man who looked to be in his fifties.  He was obviously the defendant.  Next to him sat a younger man with several folders on the desk in front of him.  I wondered how much effort the advocate was putting into the defense.  On my right was the prosecutor.

     I had never met Hans Glickenhoff before but I recognized him from his photographs.  He was about the same age as Baker but looked ten years younger.  He must have been feeding on many of my kind over the years to be aging that slowly.  He gave me a predatory look as I sat in the witness chair.  I felt like I was being sized up like a side of beef.  He rose and spoke in a booming voice that filled the courtroom.