Intercosmic

2.07 - Closing Costs

January 06, 2026 Darrell S.

I've been sitting with Pauline for the last two hours as she talks about nothing in particular. Usually Martin is the talkative one, but today she's going nonstop. I came by to sign documents to make the sale of the ranch official; even if they'll be taking care of it while I go away. We've barely gotten any of the papers signed but she's got a lot to say about each piece of paper.

"Now, you've got a pretty good idea of the proper boundaries but let's say you wanted to expand. Beyond the tree line at the back end of the property is a lake with a few abandoned houses and shops. Was supposed to be the start of new development but it never got finished. Developer ran out of money then went to prison.

"Why did they go to prison," I interrupt

"He was playing with dirty money, owed a cartel, mob or something. Chose prison over whatever they had in store for him

"That's crazy," I laugh.

"Well, they offered to sell it to us for dirt cheap but we're old and don't have the energy for it. It's back there if you want it. Maybe some vacation homes around the lake or something. Could make a lot of money on it" Pauline shrugs away the idea, but I know it's her way of suggesting that I do it. She'll never force you to do anything but she'll lean on your rather hard. I barely know anything about ranching, so I’ll need a whole staff to do vacation rentals.

"One thing at a time, I got lot to do before I start thinking lake house expansions," I throw up my hands in a defensive manner

"Well, I won't fight you on it. Some fights just aren't worth the trouble," she stares deeply into my eyes with a look I've only seen from my mother.

"You're talking about the casino, aren't you?”

"Well, since you brought it up," Pauline waves her hand and takes a sip of tea. "I don't want you going down there and throwing your life away. Those folks basically got a whole army down there. I don't want you running into a fight, that isn't yours and then getting killed by overwhelming opposition," she takes another sip of tea.

"I know it's not my fight, but someone has to fight for those people. There's not a lot of people fighting to make sure drug addicts have safe access to their vices. There's nobody at all fighting for people being ripped off by shady gambling practices."

"But that somebody doesn't need to be you."

"Then who?"

"Sometimes, you don't need to fight, you just need to stand firm on what you believe in and that gives inspiration to others to fight. Those people will just have to learn to fight for themselves.”

"When has that ever happened?”

"Martin told you about the war against supremacy, right?”

"Yeah, he was in a human supremacist organization, and people across the planet fought back to make sure anyone could live peacefully on Nyame. He and many others realized they were wrong and switched sides."

"Yes, that's his side of the story, but do you know why people fought back so hard?"

"No, but I have a feeling you're going to tell me."

"When the supremacist were vandalizing businesses that would welcome non humans, there was a shop owner. Her name was Audre Rudolph. Everyone time they would destroy her shop, she'd take the insurance money and build a new one. Time and time again she did this, never raising a fist to fight. But she did inspire others to fight. All she had to do was maintain her principals. You can send a lot of messages with words and even violence. But sometimes the best message is sent by how you live your life."

“You two are really against me doing anything to the people running the casino,” I chuckle.

“Yes, we thought you died you idiot,” Pauline raises her voice. “We thought you were buried in some unmarked grave,” there’s a heavy sadness in her voice I’d never heard from her. “Do you think we wanted that? To see someone like you dying because you’re fighting some battle to save people who don’t want to be saved. They walk into that casino, knowing it’s a trap. You can’t save someone blinded by vice until they’re ready to be saved," Pauline slams her hand on the table as she fights back tears.

My mother didn't cry for me like this when I joined the marines. My father never worried if I was going to die in some pointless battle. Pauline and Martin have been good to me, better than I ever could have ever imagined and I'm putting them through hell right now. They just can't say it to me. I make my way to the other side of the table where Pauline is sitting and wrap her in my arms as she rocks back and forth.

"I can't sit around and do nothing, but I'll do it in a way that you won't have to worry about me. That's all I can promise you," I speak the words gently as she releases me.

"You're an adult, and you're going to do whatever you want to do. Not risking your life over this is all I can ask of you.”

Book 2

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New Release: Light Seekers

July 14, 2025 Darrell S.

Najor has seen more than most boys his age should, but he's never felt the warmth of the sun on his flesh. His town has been blessed with the gift of sunlight for three years now. The elders believe that this will continue as they are in God's favor. Najor is smart enough to listen to the migrants who travel along with the beam of light which illuminates the sky. They know the light is to vanish soon, and with it will go any normality in his life. He faced with the choice of spending his life following the beam of light, or attempting to bring the sun back.

The magic he wields is weak, and he can't use it for long without becoming sick. He's never left his town and only heard legends about the beasts that roam the wastelands and the sorcerers who reside high in the Phaethon Mountains. Still, he chooses to throw it all away and chase after a dream knowing he'll mostly likely die out in the darkness.

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2.06 - Good Morning

February 04, 2025 Darrell S.

“Is he breathing”
“Yeah but not much”
“You think he’ll make it”
“I don’t know, he’s strong”

“Oh shit they’re kids.”
“We shot some kids.”
“They’re just kids.”

“Efrem, come on, the coast is clear”
“Nah, I need to check on this.”
“You find something”
“...not a damn thing.”

“We have to return fire”
“Do whatever, just keep running.”

“Seargeant”
“Sorry about that, but I told you, I wasn’t going to let you die.”
“Seargeant”
“Hey, how about you take your arm as a souvenir? They might be able to put it back if we’re fast enough.”
“That’s not my arm.”
“Sure, it is, it looks a lot like mine, but it’s yours. Humans are funny that way.”
“Captain, sit down.”
“Oh shit, that is my arm.”

Last night, I dreamed of Xioshaa. Time and time again, I replayed the mission over and over again. Stealthy infiltration, but they saw us coming. They set traps and prepared ambushes. Psionic abilities, poison and hallucinogenics were all part of their plan. When we finally were able to meet them in combat, I shot a kid. They were all child soldiers and that was never something I expected. I saw one of the bodies, I didn’t tell my team. I didn’t want them to carry the burden with me. Only for me to get blown up because some psionic teenager changed the trajectory of a grenade in the air.

I went through weeks of rehabilitation learning to use my prosthetic and trying to get it to sync to my brainwaves. All while I had my first sit downs with a therapist helping me to cope. At least I thought the goal was to help me overcome the PTSD of killing a child and getting my arm blown off. In reality, they were just trying to make sure I could go out there and be the same tool for killing that I was before.

I’m contemplating taking down a casino and dreams of a battle that actually is mine are keeping me awake at night. Martin might be right, but I have to do something. Maybe I can use one to help the other. I’m not sure, but I can try. I grab a dusty glass from the cabinet and give it a rinse in the sink before filling it with tap water and drinking. I know what I have to do now, and I can’t keep putting it off any more. Scrolling through the contacts in my wrist comp, I come across the person I was looking for. A deep breath and I make the call. It doesn’t ring long before a familiar face appears on my screen. I project the image on the wall so we’re looking face to face.

“The prodigal son returns. We must celebrate and be glad,” he begins. “This brother of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”

“I can’t say I’m as glad to see you,” I respond.

“But you need something, and I’m the only one who can give it to you.”

“You’re right.”

“You know what you have to do?”

“Come back, probably spend a little time in jail.”

“Well yes, but we’ve also got a job that still needs to be done. I just need to make sure you’re still enough of a man to take it on.”

“I need something from you too.”

He laughs, “you’re not in a position to bargain.”

“I’m going to do it anyway.”

“Insubordinate as ever.”

“There’s a casino. They sell drugs, offer prostitution and every other vice you can think of. It was funded by drug money and the police are paid off to look the other way.”

“And you want me to come shut it all down.”

“Yeah.”

“I knew you lost your arm, I didn’t know you lost your balls too.”

“What?”

“You lost your balls. It must have been when you were running away from your sworn duty.”

“If you can’t help me, I can’t help you.”

“You think I care? You think I can’t storm that pissant ranch you’re on right now? You think I couldn’t get you whenever I wanted?”

“I think you would have come to get me by now if you really could.”

“How about you prove to me you’re still a man of action and handle the casino yourself, and I’ll come get you when I’m ready.”

I bite my tongue for a moment before adjusting my feet squarely on the ground, “you’re still a piece of trash unfit to wear that uniform.”

“Yet you ran from it the moment things got hard.”

“I didn’t run from it, I ran towards something better.”

“Are you sure,” he mocks me. “Because things seem to have gotten a little hard for you and you’re running right back to my team. Let me put you under my wing again to protect you baby bird.”

“Who said anything about me joining your team?”

“Then we’ve got nothing to talk about,” the call ends without another word.

I pick up the glass of water and stop just short of flinging it against the wall as a few drops of water hit the floor. My morning alarm sounds from my wrist comp, letting me know it’s time to begin my day. A sleepless night into a day fueled by rage. What more could a man ask for?

Book 2

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2.05 - Strap Up

January 21, 2025 Darrell S.

I watch from my bed as Barbar jumps up and down while pulling up her pants from last night. I always hate one-night stands. This would only be my fourth time. I just like to have an emotional connection with someone before I have sex with them. It’s rare that I feel that connection the first time I meet them, but it happens. Renan is the only one night stand that turned into something more, so I guess I’ve had five now.

“You want to stay for breakfast,” I ask as Nariah as she searches for her shoe.

“Nope, got some errands to run today,” she pulls the shoe from under the bed.

“I can come along.”

“No need, but I’ll call you again next time I’m looking for a guy to make me feel good about the parts of my body I usually don’t like.”

I’m take the compliment in stride and walk Nariah from my front door to her car outside. I wave goodbye as she tosses a hand out the window. In the moment I find myself longing for a life with this woman and I don’t know anything but her name, her job and favorite sexual positions. Yet here I am looking for emotional investments, in a future I can’t see. I take a seat on the steps leading up to the guest house. If I planned to stick around longer I’d make an effort to get some furniture.

“Good morning,” Pauline shouts as she comes up the road.

I wave, and greet her with “good morning,” as she reaches the steps. “What’s on the schedule today?”

“Replacing some busted fence posts, start repainting the barn and of course the usual stuff. Nothing for you. I know you had a busy night.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Us big bosomed broads with loose morals have a radar. We can tell when we’re not the only ones in the area.”

“I, well,” I can feel the heat rushing to my cheeks. “I wasn’t trying to sneak around.” I feel as if my parents caught me bringing someone home. I never did because I was embarrassed. But this must be the feeling.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of about sex. You’re both consenting adults, as long as you’re safe there’s no problem. But, next time you better invite that young lady to breakfast with us.”

“I tried to, I really did.”

“Well try harder next time. Now put a shirt and come to the big house to eat.”

Breakfast with Martin and Pauline was interesting to say the least. It started with me telling them about the casino and what I saw. Only for the topic to turn to Nariah. They really act like sitcom parents sometimes. If it were up to them, we’d start planning a wedding already. Thankfully my life isn’t a weekly sitcom with new episodes for the viewing pleasure of the masses.

I greet the workers as they arrive, handing out their tasks and assigning groups. Martin wasn’t joking about the new workers being terrible. A bunch of folks past their prime just trying to get by with the only thing they know; and a bunch of young people that don’t like taking instruction but don’t really know what they’re doing. I try to mix the crews with young and old hoping they can help each other. With the orders passed out it’s time for me to take on my daily tasks as well. Inventory supplies, make sure we’ve got enough feed for the few animals we’ve got and of course check in on the crews and lend a hand where it’s needed.

“Hey,” Martin calls out to me.

“You know you don’t have to work when I’m here,” I laugh.

“I know that, I’m just here to talk.”

“What’s going on?”

“Did you think about what I said the other night?”

I pause for a second, “that every man has a last fight, and we need to know when it’s time to move on.”

“See, that’s why I love you. You’re hard headed but you listen.”

“I don’t listen that well. I'm still thinking on it.”

“Well don’t think too long or too hard, that’s how you hurt yourself.”

“What would you do,” I ask Martin as he walks away.

“Live my life.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. What if you felt that something had to be done but you didn’t want to do it with violence?”

“Overwhelming force in the opposite direction. If you feel they’re having a negative impact, you need to find a way to counter it with positivity,” Martin answers quickly as if he’d thought of this before.

“Thanks Martin.”

Book 2

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