Thursday, August 23, 2018
Farseek Mercenary Series
Sigh! Just discovered a horrible review on Faigon's Mate. More people liked it than not so I guess I shouldn't feel bad. Such blatant criticism leads me to believe the reader didn't realize why the series was written in the less than polished style it is presented.
The Farseek Series was my first attempt to write from alternating viewpoints in first person. It was deliberately written as an ordinary soldier or refugee without polished literary skills might write it in their personal journals about what happened to them.
The events in the stories, with the exception of Faigon's Mate, are about soldiers and rescues of Dreadnaught One. Some of the individual stories overlapped because they were told by different characters experiencing the same events. That's why it seemed like the same story retold, when it was actually a different experience of the same event.
Do I think that explanation is going to make people who have panned my story to like it better? Probably not. I just wanted to put it out there so they might get a different perspective. I've been writing and publishing long enough to know that some people really like my stories while others seem to take perverse pleasure in telling the world via reviews on Amazon they suck.
It makes me wonder. Was it really that badly written or just not the story the reviewer wanted it to be?
My next undertaking will be to remaster and re-edit the series into a box set for release in late fall.
Argen's Mate Farseek Mercenary Finale
Argen
Argen
Trematu was home on leave from Farseek Brigade when the Sargan’s attacked his
home world. After they destroyed the Farseek colony, Argen was scooped up with
the rest of the survivors and sold into slavery. Uatu warrior, Lieutenant
Commander Trematu didn’t make such a good slave. He rebelled at every turn
which landed him on the Julconi prison planet fighting in the pit.
He thinks his life is over until an
old friend comes to tell him the Farseek Mercenaries were coming to the rescue.
Argen never thought landing on the prison world would be his lucky break.
…. And he never expected to meet her on the rescue ship.
Zoey
Zoey Addison was kidnapped from
Earth to be sold into slavery. She rescued with four other Earth women by the
Farseek Mercenaries. Zoey joined the Mercenaries with her three friends because
they had nowhere else to go. Her friends all found their soul mates among the
crew and Zoey was feeling left out.
….Until she was checking in the
rescues from Julconi. Dressed in rags and so dirty she could barely discern
what color he was Argen walks up to her table and takes her hand. The
attraction between them all most crackles.
The two share the dreams of the
rest of the Farseek Mercenaries to return to Farseek with their people and
build a life together never sure it will really ever happen…
Preview:
Argen Trametu
The stench of unwashed bodies and
smoke hung heavy in the air. The crowd was a noisy bunch, and a lot of them
were drunk. If one didn’t know better,
they might think they were in a rowdy bar in a
seedy port city. But it was a prison planet, and we were all prisoners.
I was in the fight pit. It was my
second fight of the night and his first.
My last match didn’t last nearly long enough. I needed to punch someone or something
for a lot longer than I got to punch him.
I thought Alarian warriors were a tougher
lot than that. Our match barely went three rounds, and most of his punches didn’t land. He smelled of rotgut whiskey,
so maybe he was drunk. But I pounded him without mercy.
Even that was not nearly enough to
assuage the rage I still felt at landing here on the prison planet of Julconi.
I am a Uatu warrior from Farseek, and I had done nothing to warrant going to a
prison planet for the rest of my life.
I was on leave visiting Farseek, my
homeworld when the Sargans attacked and
left our world in ruin. I remember walking with mother at the open-air produce
market in the town square.
My next memory was waking up
strapped to a bunk on a slave ship. I was no slave! I am an Uatu warrior of the
Farseek Brigade! I escaped every chance I got.
They punished me, tortured me every
time, and every time I did it again. I didn’t know the slavers put a tracker chip under my skin. I could never get to
a starport to steal a ship and get off world.
They used flying drones to track me. The
drones had shockers that shot me and dropped me wherever I stood.
That was painful enough. Then the punishers shackle me naked by my wrists and
ankles to what can only be called a torture frame. I’ve been whipped, beaten,
and repeatedly shocked until I wished
they would just kill me.
I hated being helpless to defend
myself. The Sargans knew I would kill them had they
left me unrestrained. They always
tortured me unconscious before they took
off the restraints and threw me in a cell until they could sell me off.
Finally, they must have grown tired
of torturing me, so they sent me here. At least now I could fight back,
sometimes three fights a night. So, far I haven’t lost, though sometimes I take
a good beating before it’s over. Sometimes the pain is better than feeling
nothing at all.
The next fighter was new and looked
more evenly matched. The first round we danced around each other throwing and
blocking punches. He was pretty good, but
I was better. He clearly had training in
hand to hand combat, but few styles compare
to that of an Uatu warrior. I toyed with him for a while letting him think he
was actually blocking me. The next round I made my move landed more blows than
he could block. I pounded him and roared
like a crazed animal when he fell, and
the rules said I had to stop.
The rage just welled up inside me. He was no innocent. Duck, block, punch, pivot
kick. He lasted five rounds, and I
knocked him out. Then I got a thirty-minute break. The next guy was bigger and meaner and had horns.
This one was hard to beat, and
I took a lot of hits, but so did he. We each got in two knockdowns but I got the last one in the twelfth round, and he didn’t get up for another.
No, I didn’t kill him. I really had
no grudge against him. He was just
someone to hit… to pound out my rage at what the Sargans had done to my family
and my world. It was not enough. It would never be enough!
The next day everything changed. I
dragged out of my hovel to find some food and fill my plastic jug with water at
the community well.
Then I heard someone call my name and I turned to see who it
was,
“Trametu, is that really you?”
“Pegitu,
what the hell are you doing here?” I murmured, hardly believing my eyes.
He nodded his head, silently
asking me to go with him, so I did. He was probably the only man on Julconi who
I would trust.
* * * *
It was midday before I saw Argen
again. He was downright handsome all cleaned up and rested. I couldn’t help
smiling up at him when he came and stood in front of my table. I felt giddy as
pleasure and attraction bubbled up inside me at his presence.
“Hi sweetheart,” he said. “I had to
see you. Do you think we could have third
meal together in the mess hall today? I would so like to get to know you
better.”
“I would like that. You look much
better. Did you rest well?”
He shrugged.
“Sometimes it’s hard to rest in a
new place. I’ve only been here a couple days myself. The accommodations are
actually nicer than mine on Dread One, but the bed’s not the same. And the
smell is different.”
“It’s a new ship,” Argen said.
“It is. We stole it from Tegliar
Station,” I told him.
“I wish I could have been there for
that,” he grinned. “I hope they don’t catch up to us.”
“You and me, too.” I smiled.
It was hard not to smile while I
was talking with him. I knew he was handsome under all that dirt but cleaned up
he looked so good I could hardly stop staring. All the Uatu men were stunningly
attractive even with their odd colored skin and hair.
His skin was a pale lavender, and his hair was a darker lavender color. It
had been pretty long when he came on board, but now it was clipped close to his
head in what seemed to be the universal military cut.
I hoped the way I was looking at
him made him feel as good as I felt at
how he was looking at me.
“We’re finished here. Would you
like to go to the mess and get a cup of tea?” I offered. There was no such
thing as coffee out here, but the tea had about the same kick as coffee, and it tasted good.
“I need to stop at my cabin on the
way, but I would love to have tea with you,” he grinned.
Farseek warriors were seldom
demonstrative in public. Argen walked beside me down the corridor to the lift
to level three where his cabin was. When we got there, he invited me in, and I fell right for it.
As soon as the door closed behind
me, he pivoted and held my head between his large hands pressed those sexy lips
to mine. I just melted against him and put my arms around him like I wanted to
do the first time I saw him.
Solmatu!
As soon as our lips touched and my arms went around him, I knew it was
true. I felt such elation just to be in his arms for the first time. His tongue
slipped between my lips, and I opened for
him, giving him free reign to stake his claim. Mine! Mine!
Copyright © 2018
Clarissa Lake
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