Friday, December 11, 2015

The Santa Claus Murders


Do you hear what I hear?

                A medium snowfall fell from the skies, blanketing the city of Tejas, Texas in a soft, white blanket.  On a street corner just out in front of a large newly built toy store in downtown Tejas, a man stood dressed in a Santa Claus suit holding a red metal bucket in one hand and ringing a small silver bell in the other.  As multiple people on the street passed by him smiling and giving him a friendly wave, the costumed gentleman waved back at them returning the smile.  A few people before going into the toy store behind the gentleman, stopped and put a few bills into his red bucket.  The gentleman politely thanked them for their donation with a warm smile and a twinkle in his eye.  A few small children who were with their parents of course couldn’t help but ask the man if he was the real Santa. The man of course laughed rather heartily and replied that he was merely one of Santa’s older and taller elves.  His sharp and quick answer made the children squeal with delight. The children also broke into bright shiny smiles the moment the Santa asked some of the children what they wanted for Christmas.  The parents themselves felt their own hearts swell deep in their chests from the warmth of the holiday magic as they watched their kids talking with the Santa Claus before heading into the giant toy store. 
            Later on the toy store employees began closing down the store for the evening and locking the front doors.  As soon as the exterior lights above the large store went off, the Santa took that as his que it was time to head home for the evening.  He heard the phrase “Goodnight” and the name “Maurice” being called and so he turned behind him to face one of the toy store’s large picture windows to see an employee shouting at him through the glass.  Maurice the man inside the Santa costume; waved back at a young, red-orange curly haired woman.  Then with his red bucket and small bell in hand, he started walking off down the sidewalk for a narrow alley located behind the toy store which was where he’d parked his car earlier that afternoon.  As he headed to his car, Maurice thought about this Christmas season and the few before that.  He’d collected donations of all kinds for the Tejas children’s home for the last four years so that the kids in the orphanage could afford to have a decent Christmas, a MAGICAL Christmas.  Maurice was a retired marine corps vet so he didn’t have anything else better to do with his time at the moment.  In his opinion, this was a much more worthwhile use of his time rather than sit at home like most retirees and play those useless Facebook games.
            Parked in the alley directly behind the toy store near one of the loading docks and covered in a heavy blanket of snow like most everything else in the city, was an older model black Lincoln town car.  Maurice hardly ever went anywhere so he hadn’t needed a new car for years.  He stood next to his car and placed the red pail which was half-filled up with cash and quite a few coins on the roof of his car while he got the car keys out.  He shook with a chill as he was unlocking the door.  Even with his thick Santa coat on it felt like he was freezing. The temperature was DEFINITELY dropping and it was dropping fast.  The weatherman on Channel Three had said around six that evening it was supposed to be in the lower teens by the end of the weekend.  If it was going to be that cold, Maurice didn’t know how he was going to stand out in front of that toy store; Santa Claus suit or not! Maybe the store would let him stand inside if it got too cold.  Normally they had a policy of not allowing solicitors inside, even if it was for a good cause.  This was the Christmas season though so maybe they’d make an exception.  All he cared about at the moment was getting into his car and getting the heat going.
            As Maurice was about to grab his bucket from the roof of the car and get inside he thought he heard the jingling of what sounded almost like sleigh bells in the alley somewhere nearby.  He looked up and down the alley for a moment but couldn’t really see anything as there wasn’t any kind of streetlamps. He then briefly ducked his head inside the car so he could put the bucket with the money inside the front passenger seat.  As he put one leg inside to get into the car himself and close the door he heard the bells again.  Maurice looked around the alley again.  “Is somewhere there?!”  Maurice called out. There was nothing but the momentary echo of his own voice.  When no one answered once again, he climbed into his car behind the wheel and started the engine so he could get the heater started and ramped up. As he was about to close the door, the jingling bells sounded once more.  Maurice was fed up!  He got out of his car and went to the back, around to the trunk and opened it.  He reached inside and pulled out a tire iron.  He then turned and looked up and down the alley again.  “Okay who’s out there?!”  Maurice then started to wade through the heavy snow down to the other end of the alley as the bells sounded again.  Behind him the taillights from his car lit up the alley somewhat, giving a portion of the alley and snow covered street an eerie red glow.  The bells sounded again and again, this time the as the bells would ring, they sounded as if they were almost ringing instantly or nonstop as it were.  Maurice gripped the tire iron tightly in his right hand.  He was prepared for whoever was playing with him.  He’d knock their marbles into place.  That would teach them to pick on an old man!
            It was near a fire escape, more than halfway down the alley before Maurice found the source of the never-ending, jingling sleigh bells.  Taped to the bottom rung of the fire escape’s ladder was what looked like a small black micro-recorder.  Maurice relaxed then lowered his tire iron, reached out and yanked the recorder away from the rung of the ladder.  He let the tire iron drop to the ground in the snow for a moment while he fiddled with the settings on the micro-recorder.  The recorder he had found was OBVIOUSLY the source of the jingling bells he’d been hearing.  After looking over the small device for a minute or so, he discovered the settings were set to auto playback and then set into an endless loop. Surprisingly enough for such a small device, the sound quality seemed to be top notch.  Then again with the alley as small as it was, it really wasn’t a surprise that sound had little to no problem being projected around.  Further back down the alley Maurice thought he heard the sound of a car door slamming shut.  He instantly dropped the recorder in the snow, then retrieved his tire iron and walked as fast as he could back to his car. 
            When Maurice reached his car he noticed that his trunk had been closed.  Obviously someone was screwing with him.  “Alright you kids! Just go on and get outta here!”  Maurice yelled out into the night air.  Fog came out of his mouth as he yelled indicating the temperature was dropping rapidly as it was getting later into the evening.  Maurice opened his trunk and put the tire iron back beneath his spare tire then slammed the trunk shut.  Afterwards he went back to the driver’s side door and climbed in. Maurice in his haste to run off down the alley chasing the jingling bells, he’d forgotten when he left the trunk open he had also originally left the driver’s side door open.  Once inside the warm cabin of the car he immediately removed his hat, and the black leather gloves he was wearing tossing them into the passenger seat next to his bucket of cash.  He sat there for a moment with the engine idling and rubbing his hands together enjoying the warmth coming from the vents.   Then he noticed it.  The large green envelope taped to the center of the steering wheel, with his name on it written in cursive.  He would’ve been lying to himself if he said he wasn’t curious.  Maurice snatched the envelope off the steering wheel and quickly ripped it open.  Inside the envelope was a plain white business card inside.  The only thing on the reverse side of the business card were two words.  The words “Naughty List” were typed as neat and then centered to near perfection as possible.  Maurice was convinced by now more than ever someone was playing a joke on him.  Maurice couldn’t care less however, as he didn’t have time for childish games.  He tossed the business card along with the envelope behind him over his right shoulder then he put his car in gear.  He checked all his mirrors then began to drive forward. 

Happy Holidays Indeed!

                For once Ethan Mendoza was riding in a standard police cruiser with his partner Trevor Hemphill.  Both Ethan and Trevor, were detectives in the homicide division for the Tejas Police Department.  At the moment the two detectives were headed out to the mall so Trevor could do a little bit of last minute Christmas shopping that he had promised his wife he’d do.  Ethan didn’t have anyone himself he usually bought gifts for, except maybe his father.  Most of Ethan’s family still lived out west in El Paso on the reservation, and he had no plans of going to visit any of them for Christmas if he could help it.  That is unless his father asked him to go then of course Ethan knew he would be screwed, blued, and tattooed.  The car’s police band was mostly quiet except for a small bit of idle chatter between other police officers and the dispatch.  The regular radio was tuned to a country music oldies station which is what Trevor usually listened to most of the time in his car.  Ethan didn’t mind it so much, but his genre that he liked to listen to was alternative and then some garage grunge. 
            As they were sitting at a red light not far from the mall Trevor looked over at Ethan and said in his usual gruff tone, “You doing any shopping while we’re here?”  Ethan looked over at him and frowned.  “Shopping for who? It’s just me and my father.  Besides, I don’t really celebrate Christmas.”  Trevor frowned right back at him as he started driving forward.  “You’re a real Grinch ya’ know that Mendoza?”  Ethan let out a laugh.  “Why? Because I don’t celebrate a bullshit holiday?”  Trevor sighed.  “Aww c’mon man! What’s bullshit about it?” “You want the short answer or the long, detailed version?”
It was Trevor’s turn to laugh a little.  “How about just tell me how you got to be such a dick so early in your life? And so anti-American I might add!”  Ethan laughed at his partner’s assumption.  “Oh I’m anti-American huh? Just because I don’t celebrate Christmas?” Trevor nodded as he was navigating the car into the parking lot of the huge mall.  “Yeah, in my opinion you are! Anyone that doesn’t celebrate Christmas is pretty darned anti-American in my book!”  “Well your book’s wrong and it’s full of holes. Look Trev it all comes down to this.”  Ethan started explaining as Trevor was trying to find a decent parking spot.  It didn’t take long to find a spot close to the entrance and as Trevor was parking, Ethan continued to explain why he really wasn’t into celebrating Christmas.  As the two of them got out of the car and started walking towards the large mall entrance Ethan continued. 
                        “Have you watched some of the videos on YouTube of people stomping each other at Wal-Mart on Black Friday?”  Ethan asked.  “Oh yeah man! It’s freaking hilarious ain’t it?! I love watching those videos!” Trevor said. He was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes. Ethan just gave him a weird look as they entered the mall.  “So you think that’s funny then people getting beat up over a plasma?”  Trevor let out another small laugh as they were walking then looked at Ethan.  “Nah I guess not. I forgot I was partnered up with someone who couldn’t find a sense of humor in a haystack!”  Soon as they stepped inside Ethan walked up to an illuminated directory.  Trevor walked up slapped him in the back of his leather coat playfully. “C’mon man! We don’t need that; I know where I’m going!”  Ethan shrugged and walked off with him.  As they were getting near some of the fashionable clothing stores and the food court, they continued their conversation.  The mall meanwhile was crowded with people everywhere, both young and old doing their last minute shopping.  Over the loudspeakers of the mall the sounds of instrumental Christmas music could be heard. 
In the center of the mall near a large fountain, kids were lined up with their parents for some reason or another near what looked like some kind of fake gingerbread village sitting in the middle of what looked to be fake snow. Ethan strained his neck to see what all the fuss was about as they were walking along.  Towards the back of the village there was someone dressed up in a Santa Claus suit sitting on a large blue chair made to resemble a king’s throne and decorated with multicolored blinking Christmas lights.  Near him were young teenage girls that were dressed up as elves and the elves seemed to be guiding children up to sit on Santa’s lap.
                        Trevor entered a popular video game store while Ethan waited outside near a jewelry store.  There were two Tejas police officers standing near the entrance to the jewelry store he knew and so he was chatting with them. While Trevor was inside getting something for his son, Ethan’s cell rang. He excused himself, saying goodbye to the two officers then stepped a few feet away so he could answer his phone. He pulled it from an interior pocket of his jacket and swiped his finger across the smooth surface then put it to his ear. “Yeah this is Mendoza.”  About ten minutes later when Trevor came out of the store carrying a large plastic bag, he saw Ethan talking on his phone and then noticed the serious look on his partner’s face.  “Aww c’mon man this is Christmas!” Trevor said.  “I understand sir.” Ethan could be heard saying into the phone. He then put his phone away after hanging it up.  Trevor sighed.  “You’re kidding me right?!” He asked.  Ethan shook his head.  “Okay what is it and where is it?”  “You’ll never guess!”  Ethan said with a smile.  Trevor looked at him oddly.  “I swear Mendoza! Sometimes I think you live for this job. So where is it?”  “C’mon, I’ll tell you on the way unless you have more shopping to do.”  Trevor held up the plastic bag in his left hand containing a PlayStation Four and a few games.  “Nah I guess I’m done!  I might as well order the rest of my shit online now!”
            With holiday traffic it took about twenty minutes or so for Trevor and Ethan to get across town and into the downtown area.  It wasn’t long after getting into downtown before they had arrived at the crime scene.  Trevor nodded at the large sign on the front of the toy store sitting on the corner of Main and Orleans.  “Yeah, my son’s been wanting to come here to see some of the toys.  They claim to have some toys from other parts of the world.”  “Ian should be parked around back in the alley.”  Ethan said.  “Of course it’s in the alley!”  Trevor said. “They’re ALWAYS in the alley aren’t they?”  Ethan tilted his head at him, grinned and said, “Well if anything, these freaks always predictable.”  As Trevor was turning the squad car around the street corner and into the alley, the black forensic van belonging to the City of Tejas came into view.  Parked near the rear of the van and blocking off direct access to the alley were three black and white current model Ford Cobra Mustangs. The Tejas police cruisers were parked almost in a W-shape pattern. 
Ahead of the forensic van the two detectives could see a late model black Lincoln town car parked behind the back of the toy store near one of the loading docks.  Ethan got out before Trevor could even get the engine turned off and started walking; practically running towards the forensic van. He looked up and down the snow covered alley as he was going. Even though he was wearing black gloves to match his jacket, his hands felt like mini-ice cubes.  He knew why they’d been called to the alley behind the toy store.  Ethan continued to walk down the alley where Ian Holmes, the youthful, medical examiner was kneeling on one knee near a fire escape, with a clipboard containing some papers and pen in his hands. He had his head bent at an angle and it also looked like he was making notes on the papers on his clipboard.  On the ground in front of him was something that Ethan couldn’t quite make out.  At least not until he got closer.  Behind him Trevor was catching up.  When Ethan walked up to where Ian was kneeling down, he could finally see what the medical examiner was looking at. He was surprised to see that the object on the ground appeared to be the fresh remains of an upper human torso.  He was even more surprised to see that the torso seemed to be dressed in a Santa Claus suit. 
            “What in the hell is that?!” Ethan heard the voice of Trevor say behind him.  Ian turned his head sharply to look up at both Ethan and Trevor.  “What this is Detective… is the remains of Santa Claus!”  “You mean he really is real?!”  Trevor asked feigning shock.  Ethan snorted and looked behind him briefly. “You’re not that gullible right?”  Even Ian had to laugh at Ethan’s cynicism.  “Of course I’m not!  So what the hell kinda crap are we lookin’ at here lab rat?!” Trevor pulled a smoke from out of his jacket pocket and lit it up.  Ian cursed silently to himself.  He reminded himself that Trevor was just an ignorant redneck and he’d just have to make do with the people he had to work with.  At least Ethan showed promise.  Ethan never treated him like less than a human being.  Ian pointed with the pen he was holding.  “What we’re looking at is the remains of one Maurice James.”  Ethan was impressed.  “Wow! Nice work man! How’d you find out who he was so fast?”  “Well when the rest of him is sitting inside the front seat of his car, it really wasn’t that hard.  Plus, it also helps that his driver’s license was inside the pants, which of course is still attached to his lower torso.” 
Ian stood up and motioned for the two detectives to follow him.  Ian tromped back through the snow past the black town car to the forensic van.  He went around to the back and opened one of the doors then retrieved two pairs of blue forensic gloves, and then handed them to Trevor and Ethan.  Then he headed over to the victim’s car with the detectives close behind.  “Prepare yourselves.”  Ian said.  Ethan nodded and told him to open the door.  Ian put his clipboard and pen on the roof of the car then opened the driver’s side door.  The minute Trevor saw the inside of the car he immediately turned and hurled up his breakfast.  Piled into the front seat was the remains of Maurice James.  The front seat itself, including the steering wheel and dashboard had dried blood smeared all over.  “Okay that’s just disturbing.”  Was Ethan’s only response. He looked behind him and asked if Trevor was okay or if he needed a moment. His partner shook his head and said he’d be okay. “Any idea who did this?”  Ethan asked.  Trevor turned back around wiping his mouth off. 
                        Ian shook his head.  He opened the rear left door and retrieved the green Christmas card envelope along with the business card that Maurice had tossed into the backseat the night before.  He handed both objects to Ethan so he could examine them.  Ethan looked at the name on the front of the envelope and how it had Maurice’s written name and then he noticed what was typed on the business card.  He then handed the items to Trevor who was still recovering from the initial shock of seeing the gory remains.  “The naughty list huh?  Any idea what it means?”  Ethan asked.  Ian shook his head and put his back to the car leaning up against the side. “I can’t tell you anything definitive at the moment dude.  I can tell you this though.  You know Francis with The county coroner’s office itself right?”  Both detectives nodded. “Yeah he called last week and he mentioned how he responded to three different crime scenes over in Mid-County, and when he got there, he found similar victims. Apparently someone out there doesn’t like Santa Claus.” 
            Trevor rubbed his face a couple of times with his hands.  “I need another smoke I’ll be back in a minute. I left my other pack in the car.  Mendoza you can handle things here?”  Ethan nodded at him.  After he was gone Ian asked him, “And he’s supposed to be a homicide detective?”  “I know right?  I’ve got a stronger stomach than him it seems. So anyways, how’d this person, assuming this is a person pull this off?”  Ethan asked.  Ian stood away from the car and then leaned over into the car.  He pointed to one of the leg portions of the victim laying across the front seat.  Ethan bent down so he could see what Ian was pointing at.
“You see how it’s a mostly neat and clean edge here?  Ethan nodded.  “It’s not typically jagged like it would be if the person had used a serrated blade.  The cuts were mostly clean and straight across so I am guessing it was some kinda surgical tool, but I’ll know for sure what kind of weapon or tool was used once I get the remains back to the lab. Now here’s the ugly part.”  Ethan motioned to the smeared blood on the inside of the car.  “How much worse can it get?”  Ian frowned.  “A lot worse I’m afraid man, a lot worse!  Mr. James our victim, well he was alive when he was cut up.”  Ethan rolled his eyes.  “So you’re telling me he felt all of this? And you’re gonna try and tell me no one heard him screaming?”  Ian shook his head.  “Most likely not and you know why?”  “I haven’t the foggiest.”  Ethan said with a slight shake of his head. “I can tell you why.”  Trevor said as he walked up and stood next to Ethan.  He took another final drag off his cigarette then tossed it away. “There’s nothing but businesses in the downtown area. And if he worked inside that toy store then he was probably leaving after they closed last night.”  Ian was impressed.  So maybe Trevor wasn’t a stupid, useless hillbilly after all.
            “Actually Detective according to the patrol officers over there, Mr. James didn’t work for the toy store.  He was collecting money for some orphanage in town to buy them Christmas presents.”  Ian said.  “You mean like one of those guys that rings those bells?” Trevor asked.  Ian nodded.  “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m talking about.”  Ethan peeked inside the front of the car then the back.  “Then where’s the money?”  Ethan asked looking at Ian.  “That’s a good question. But for some reason I don’t think this was about money.  And the reason why is because of that business card I showed to you.”  “What do you think it’s about then?” Trevor asked.  Ian smiled.  “Detective that’s your job.  My job is just to figure out how they did it.  I will of course let you know once the toxicology comes back, because personally I don’t believe for a second he was conscious while he was being chopped up. At least I hope to god he wasn’t!”  “Yeah, I can imagine that would’ve probably hurt like hell!” Trevor said.  Ethan thanked Ian then told him that he and Trevor were going to get out of his way and let him finish doing his thing.  In the meantime, the two of them were going to head inside to talk to the toy store employees about the Santa Claus.


                        It wouldn’t be long before the city of Tejas would once more be gripped by an immeasurable amount of fear, overwhelming panic, and ultimately mass hysteria.  In a season that was recognized globally as one regarding joy, celebration, and normally a time of peace; in the city of Tejas the streets were running red with blood.  Simon Baker the local conservative shock jock as usual had taken it upon himself to nickname the killer.  It wasn’t long before the nickname would start to be used by anchors working for Channel Three Action News and then journalists working for The Tejas Herald, the city’s local paper.  Once more another citywide curfew was in effect until the police could find and catch the city’s newest serial killer. 
However, before the Christmas season would be all over with, “The Kris Kringle Killer” would claim the lives of at least five more people dressed up as Santa Claus.  At every other crime scene like the one where the body of Maurice James was found, a similar large solid green or solid red envelope with the name of the victim written in cursive on the front of the envelope was also found. And of course stashed inside each envelope was a plain white business card with the words “Naughty List” typed upon it.


©December 11, 2015 The previous story is a complete work of fiction.  Any names, characters, places and incidents contained herein are products of the author’s highly overactive and creative imagination.  Any resemblance to any actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.  Please do not re-print from my stories anywhere without my express written permission. This is my creative work and even though I may choose to share samples of some of my work online with close and personal friends, I would hope no one would take advantage of my good nature and steal portions my work and then change them up for their own benefit or personal gain. This notice at the end of all my books/stories serves as my official copyright notice.  Any characters in official capacity including names of characters or having to do with the actual plot of the story are all copyrighted by me.  

Southern Gothic Tales

I am about three chapters away from finishing the editorial of Southern Gothic Tales: Coyote, Texas.  Once it is complete with this first editorial I will do what I need to and I think it should be mostly ready to publish and then I will be publishing it to as I did my first book.  Then I am going to start work on the next story in the series which is a horror short which will be my take on the Mad Hatter.  

I apologize for not updating my blog but I have been busy with some real life health issues and adjusting to life in my new apartment and as of recently I just got a new computer so that is a big plus for me.  Now that I have a new computer I should be able to put out more blog entries a lot more frequently (I hope) and try to keep this thing more updated on the progress.  In the meantime, I have just completed a short, very short seasonal short story entitled Southern Gothic Tales: The Santa Claus Murders which I am going to submit or I plan to submit to a few writing magazines in hopes of entering it into a contest.  I only wrote this in the spirit of the season and it is as I said just a short.  

I will attempt to post it also here on my blog and see how it translates into the format.  If the blogger does not butcher, it then I will post it; If not then you can send me an email to or message me on twitter @kronoso1979 and I will be willing to send you a pdf of the short story.  It will as all of my personally written material, include my copyright notification.  I do write fan fiction sometimes from time to time but when it comes to mine, I do include a copyright notice.  I only ask that if someone wants to share something I have written that is an original creation of mine, please ask me first.  

Thanks for reading my blog if you are and Happy holidays, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, and merry Christmas. 

Edward Alex Lively

Saturday, September 26, 2015

Star Trek Providence

Star Trek: Providence

A tall somewhat lanky, but average built young man with black hair combed and parted to one side with sky blue eyes, a lean face, and rather short pointed looking ears stood in front of a floor length mirror that had been purposely set up against what looked like a smoke grey wall with a thick black border running along the top of the wall.The young man according to his reflection was wearing some kind of black and grey uniform.  The neckline of the uniform showed the exposed edges of what appeared to be some kind of thick, dark red under shirt he seemed to be wearing beneath his outer uniform.  Along the right side of the exposed area of the undershirt and attached, which one would guess to be an actual collar were a row of four gold looking buttons lined up in a sequential row.

The shoulders of the uniform seemed to be made from a very dense or thick fabric and the shoulders seemed to match the color of the rooms wall.  The shoulders seemed to be thick as it were perhaps because of a simple ridge like design that had been sewn into both shoulders.  The fancy shoulder section did not carry on however past the halfway mark of the uniform’s upper breast area nor did it retreat below the upper chest area either.  In fact, from that point on the uniform continued in black and even spread to the arms, ending at the wrists.  The section of the uniform that ended at the wrist did have a small dark red section of material sewn in between a border of black material.  The dark red was similar in color only and not material to that of the undershirt the young man wore.  The black portion of the uniform continued on down to the legs of the uniform, where on his feet the young man was wearing a pair of comfortable black walking boots with a soft sole.

Over the left breast area of the young man's uniform, attached to the uniform material was a small gold medallion of sorts.  It resembled a chevron symbol almost.  Behind the gold looking chevron was a similar in size silver bar that seemed to wrap around and connect at the sides of the chevron.  The ornate symbol on his left breast however was certainly more than a simple fashion accessory.  Inlaid beneath the gold and silver surface where no one could see was the tiniest strands of wires and the tiniest of tiniest computer chips.  Truly this was used for something more than to decorate clothing.

The young man gazed proudly upon his own reflection in the mirror.  His reflection of course smiled back just as proud.  The young man was certainly pleased with how he looked in his new fresh,  new uniform.   He tugged on the tail of the outside of the uniform near the waist which was revealed to be a uniform top. Then he turned to the side and performed another tug on his uniform.  It was clear by the way he kept looking at himself in the mirror, that he thought quite highly of himself and just how good he looked in the uniform.  His new captain’s uniform.  Behind him in the mirror the young captain could see hanging on an opposite wall, a watercolor painting of an older gentleman.  The painting depicted the older gentleman as having thick silver hair,  a face that betrayed the man to be relatively skinny, and even having a long nose almost like a beak.  One other thing to be clear about.  This beak nosed man was also depicted in the painting wearing a similar outfit as the young man now wore.  He even had the same little gold dots along the right side of his collar.  However in the reflection of the mirror it would look as if they were instead on the left.  

“ Captain Wellington, you old fool!” The young man said to himself.   “If you'd only  listened to reason, you'd be here now.”  The young captain straightened his collar just a bit.  He took excellent pride in his appearance.  That's why he chose to comb his hair over and press all of his clothes.   Nothing could go wrong today.  Most importantly today of all days.  A beeping or chirping sound that similar to that of a bird echoed throughout the room.  The young captain reached up with his right hand to the small gold and silver chevron, and very lightly tapped it with two fingers.  “This is Commander Korrel, or rather I guess it’s Captain now.  Go ahead please.”  The room he was standing in was suddenly filled with the voice of a young woman.  The answer as to the decorative symbol’s true nature had been revealed; it was some kind of a communications device.

“Captain, we've arrived in the Noxus-Goran System sir and are now approaching New Romulus.”  “Understood Lieutenant, maintain the cloaking device and enter a standard orbit.  I'll be there shortly.”  Captain Korrel said.  “Aye sir.”  Captain Korrel one last tug on the tail end of his uniform top, colloquially known as the “Picard Maneuver” then turned to exit what was revealed to be a small room that was sparse of any furniture or d├ęcor save for the mirror and painting of the former captain.  The small room he'd been standing in this entire time was a small dressing room adjacent to a much larger room.  As he stopped in the center of what was a large and lavishly decorated room, Captain Korrel (Jason being his first name) stood there looking around at the residential quarters his former captain once occupied.  Residential quarters that were now his own.  Jason did in fact wish things could've turned out differently as he had nothing but the utmost respect and admiration for Captain Wellington, right up until the bitter end.  However, his duty to Starfleet, the safety and security of the Federation took precedent over any personal feelings he might’ve had regarding loyalty and his former captain.  The communicator on his left breast beeped again.  He tapped it lightly responding, “Yeah, I'm on my way. Korrel out!”  Jason took one final look around the room then turned sharply to his left and exited through a set of doors colored the same smoke-grey as the rest of the room.

New Romulus.  Five years ago or more after the destruction of both the Romulan and Reman homeworlds, what remained of the Romulan people, searched star system after star system for a new planet they could call home.  A new Romulan republic formed out of the ashes of that destruction comprised of the remaining Romulan senators, scientists, and philosophers.  Eventually they did find  a planet they believed could be sufficiently settled upon.  It was the fourth planet in a star system called Noxus-Goran system.  The planet had three moons with two suns in a nearby orbit.  The planet was a Class-M but still hostile somewhat to most forms of other humanoid life but then Romulans were used to surviving in extreme environments.  Hostile as in the planet had few sources of natural vegetation, and the soil would require extreme methods of getting things to grow.  There was an unfortunate downside to the tentative new homeworld however.  The planet was located in the Noxus-Goran system, which as fate would have it, was not far from the Klingon border or the Klingon Empire’s own homeworld for that matter.

The negotiations to settle the planet were painfully long, mostly so because the Chancellor of the Klingon High Council, Worf; wasn’t too keen on letting a group of Romulan refugees settle on a planet near Klingon territory.  At first he was convinced that they destroyed their own world through a freak accident and he accused their scientists of meddling with things they shouldn’t have been.  Then Chancellor Worf believed their petition for asylum on a planet so close to the Klingon homeworld was merely nothing more than a ruse so they could spy on the Klingon Empire.  The leaders of the new Romulan Republic assured Chancellor Worf this was not the case.  Nonetheless, Chancellor Worf still hadn’t forgiven the Romulans for the massacre at Khitomer outpost at which his father Mogh had been killed.

Eventually, after some prodding by his former captain,  Chancellor Worf agreed to the Romulan’s request for asylum.  Chancellor Worf did make the promise the system would be patrolled periodically by Klingon ships to ensure safety, security, and stability in the region.  Even though the Romulans were trusted allies of the Federation, Worf did not trust them himself, and he let the leaders of the new republic know his true feelings. The leaders of the New Romulan Republic not only agreed to the terms but also welcomed the patrols, as it would give them some comfort to know they were protected as they worked to rebuild their society.  They also expressed the sentiment that perhaps in time they could work to restore the shady and tarnished reputation the previous republic had earned throughout the quadrant.

U.S.S. Providence, registry NCC-19661987.  The Providence is an Akira class was designed like most typical Federation escort starships.  She was equipped with over three hundred Class-A quantum torpedoes,  two hundred standard class photon torpedoes, four forward and four aft phaser banks.  The Providence also had a gem. Something other Federation starships did not have.  And something only very few at Starfleet Intelligence knew about.  The Providence was equipped with a transphasic cloaking device.  The first ever of its kind created.  This would mark the third time a cloaking device had been installed aboard a Federation starship.  

The first occurrence was many years ago when an Admiral from Starfleet Intelligence had taken the U.S.S. Enterprise-D (before its destruction) to retrieve the remains of the U.S.S. Pegasus, an experimental starship which at the time had been testing a somewhat similar prototype of the cloaking device now being used aboard the Providence.  In that instance the Admiral’s subterfuge had been revealed by his former first officer Commander William Riker who now commands the U.S.S. Titan.  The second occurrence was when the U.S.S. Defiant under the command of Captain Benjamin Sisko, was given permission to use a cloaking device on the Defiant prior to the onset of the war between the Federation and the Dominion; an invading force from the Gamma Quadrant.  

When he was still just the first officer of the Providence, Commander Korrel was given the cloaking device by a member of Section 31 while the Providence was at Deep Space Nine for a layover as they were passing through on their way back to Earth Spacedock.  Jason was later instructed by a top admiral at Starfleet Intelligence to install the cloaking device in engineering and tell no one except for a very few.  These certain few were special agents purposely put in place by Section 31.  The Chief Engineer of the Providence was one of such individuals.
This would mark the third time a cloaking device would be installed and utilized aboard a Federation starship.  Only Jason (the first officer at the time) knew of the cloaking device’s true nature and how it differed from a standard cloaking device.  When it was given to him by the Section 31 agent at DS9, the agent briefed him on its full capabilities but at the same time warned him of the implications of what could and would happen if he was caught with it.  The agent also reminded the commander at the time that even though the cloaking device he'd been given had been thoroughly tested in secret, it was still just that: a fully functional prototype based primarily off the one used aboard the Pegasus with a few modifications.

Living on a starship and keeping secrets is not easy, especially from your commanding officer.  Jason Korrel soon found that out.  It wouldn't be long before Captain Wellington did indeed find out about the cloaking device, thanks to an abnormality in the ship’s power level one day even though the cloak was merely installed but not yet activated.  When the captain went to engineering himself to try and help solve the issues, against the protest of the Chief Engineer.  It wasn't long before the captain discovered the cloaking device installed inside a hidden wall conduit.  The Chief Engineer had hoped to solve the power drain issues before trying to use the cloak for the first time.

Captain had been furious beyond words at the engineer.  After a brief interrogation of the engineer by the captain’s Vulcan counselor, Captain Wellington learned Commander Korrel his own first officer was responsible.   The Captain immediately had both Jason and the engineer relieved of duty and thrown into the brig.  Fortunately for the duo, the tactical officer a female Ferengi showed up late one evening, and after disabling the security officers; she revealed herself to be a Section 31 agent.

After the Ferengi let them out, the two unconscious security officers were then locked inside the brig behind forcefields, their communication badges removed so they couldn't call for help.  Jason quickly rounded up what officers he could and without much struggle, took the main bridge by force.  Once he was in control Jason tried to explain to his captain and get him to see reason behind what he had been ordered to do.  He explained that Starfleet had finally decided to take a stand against the more, aggressive races in the Alpha Quadrant.

At the top of Starfleet’s agenda was the signing of a new type of treaty with the new Romulan government.  It was decided since the Remans didn’t join the Romulans on New Romulus, they were then on their own.  In protest, Captain Wellington reminded Commander Korrel of the treaty the Federation and more specifically Starfleet had signed, banning the use of cloaking devices unless agreed to by the Romulan government.  Jason pitted but a single question to his captain: “Are you with us or against us?”  Captain Wellington never a man to betray his principles or the oath he took as a cadet, instead had continued to protest against what he now considered to be outright mutiny by his first officer.  And so it was with regret that Commander Korrel had the captain seized and later taken to the airlock and placed inside.  Jason gave his captain one final time to change his mind but still the captain stubbornly refused to betray his own convictions.  With sorrow in his heart and deep regret, Jason had ordered the airlock decompressed.  He watched painfully as his captain struggled at first to breath as the huge door first began to rise.  The look of sheer terror on his captain’s face was enough to finally make Jason look away just as his captain was sucked out into the vast, and dark empty vacuum of space.

Afterwards when he realized now that the ship was his, there was no celebratory feelings of any kind in his heart.  Certainly, not after what he’d just done.  That still didn’t change matters.  He was now the ranking officer of the Providence.  He also had a decision to make.  He had to inform the rest of the crew of what was going on and inform them to either join him or as cruel as it would sound, they could share the captain’s fate.  Fortunately and to his great surprise, much of the crew was on board with Starfleet finally deciding to go after some of the other hostile races in the galaxy.  That was a big relief to Jason!  He needed the support of his crew and their help to operate the ship.

However, Jason and the few Section 31 agents onboard were the only ones who knew of Starfleet’s REAL motivation for signing a new treaty with the Romulans.  There was a hidden two fold agenda. The Romulans would agree to join the Federation if Starfleet would assist them in wiping out the Klingons, or at least coming darn close to it. The second part of the agenda which would come later, would be that Starfleet Intelligence would share the full technical details on the cloaking device that had been developed at Starfleet Intelligence.  Little did the Romulans know, regarding the Starfleet developed cloaking device; that was an agreement Section 31 would not allow to come to fruition.

On a public level, most everyone across both the Alpha and Beta Quadrants was fully aware of The New Romulan Republic’s petition to join the Federation.  But not everyone was fully aware that petition came with a price.  Only a select few at the highest levels at Starfleet Command and the Intelligence division.  It was a price those at Starfleet Command were willing to live with if it meant bringing permanent peace and stability to the galaxy.  There was a bright spot at the end of this dark tunnel.  If one could be seen as it were.  The Breen homeworld.

Starfleet Intelligence in recent months had gotten wind the Breen had developed an even more powerful version of the electromagnetic pulse beam they last used during the war with The Dominion.  As bad as the Romulans wanted the treaty with the federation, it was also true with the Federation.  Starfleet Intelligence believed with the development of this new (Emp) weapon that the Breen might be planning on going to war, and so they wanted to get their hands on the schematics for the new Breen weapon.  That is where the Providence equipped with her advanced cloaking device factored in.  The cloaking device being the very first of its kind, would allow the Providence to fire torpedoes but not phasers while cloaked.  In the past, previous cloaking devices; Federation developed or otherwise could not overcome that barrier.

The smoke-grey turbolift doors on the bridge opened swiftly, parting with a quiet hissing sound, allowing Captain Jason Korrel to step out onto a fairly medium-sized bridge area of the Providence.  In the ceiling above him was an oval neon white light that provided enough illumination for the entire bridge area and all workstations.  The carpet was a light grey that complimented the entire bridge theme which was smoke-grey.  To the Captain’s right after stepping out of the lift was a wall with three workstations set into a single alcove of their own.  The workstations had hi-tech looking computer touch screens with many multi-colored buttons and panels with random blinking and flickering lights.   The three individual stations were labeled security/tactical, communications/environmental controls, and science.  On the wall to his immediate left was a large, bronze dedication plaque with the name and registry of the Providence as well as the admirals who had been present on the day of her commissioning: U.S.S. Providence registry number NCC-19661987.  The dedication plaque showed that the Providence had been constructed in the Sol System but unlike most starships, the Providence had been constructed specifically at a shipyard orbiting Jupiter Station and commissioned on stardate 64157.53 in the year 2387.  That was just around the time both the Romulan and Reman homeworlds were destroyed by a supernova.

Just before a set of two officer stations was a set of two grey leather chairs.  One obviously being the captain’s chair and the other being for the first officer.  Further ahead of the command chairs, was a set of control stations where two officers were seated.  Then ahead of them was a large floor to ceiling viewscreen which at the moment was showing a glowing starfield, filled with possibly billions or even trillions or more of twinkling stars.  There was a specific reason Jason knew Section 31 chose him to carry out this assignment with the Romulans.  They had found out about his Romulan heritage.  When questioned months ago, he couldn't lie.  His mother (A Starfleet Commander at Starfleet Medical) did in fact have an affair with a Romulan senator years ago.  So Jason was torn between two worlds.  Loyalty to his fellow Romulans while still being duty bound to the oath he took as a Starfleet Officer.  He'd already been warned by his Section 31 contact on DS9 however, that if this entire situation went sour, Starfleet Command would not acknowledge his actions nor those of his crew if they indeed followed his command.  The agent made Jason to understand that he and his crew would be hunted down if things went bad.

Jason remained standing by the turbolift doors for a moment or two longer, surveying the bridge.  At the first control station up near the viewscreen, sitting in the chair was a young male Ferengi, but not the same Ferengi who had helped him escape the brig before.  This officer was wearing a similar smoke-grey and black uniform as the captain except the collar of this officer’s uniform was mustard yellow instead of velvet red.  On the collar of the  officer’s uniform was also the same small gold dots Jason had on his, otherwise known as “Pips.”
Instead of four like Jason had indicating his rank of Captain, this officer had two golden pips, a third merely outlined in gold. Two of the pips were solid gold and then the center of the third; the one outlined in gold, was was filled in with a black dot.  This indicated he held the rank of Lieutenant Commander.  And to the right, sitting in the other chair behind the other station was a light blue skinned Bolian female, very skinny looking.  According to the golden pips on her collar, she held the rank of Ensign currently.  The collar of her uniform was also mustard color.  Both officers for the moment had their attention focused primarily on the status indicators and other various information being relayed to their consoles.  The Ferengi himself was sitting at what is commonly known as the “Operations”  station aboard a starship.  The operations station normally is responsible for controlling various ship functions such as the ship’s sensors, various other internal systems, and most of the times communications .  The Bolian female was sitting at what is normally referred to as the “Helm” or “Conn” station.  The helm station is the main station responsible for all starship navigation, and other such functions as ship stabilization whether the ship is moving or stationary.

The sound of slight hissing made him look away from the viewscreen.  A young slim Bajoran woman exited another turbolift on the opposite side of the bridge.  She had dirty blond hair tied back in a ponytail.  Her face with small brown eyes was slim and she had a chiseled jaw that seemed to fit her just right.  She was wearing the same uniform, her color showed her to have the rank of Lieutenant Commander and the color of her collar was mustard also.  When the Bajoran noticed the new “Captain” standing there observing things, she apologized for leaving her station unattended.  In a fit of nervousness she began playing with an ornately decorated ear ring that was attached to her ear.  Jason assured her since they were at a standard orbit it was fine but next time make sure someone can take over for her if she needs a break.  The officer nodded and Jason made his way to the command chair.  The Bajoran immediately stepped up to the tactical station in one of the three alcoves along the back wall and resumed her duties.  As he sat down in the captain’s chair Jadon thought about the tactical officer’s ear jewelry.  He had seen a lot of Bajorans in Starfleet wearing them but other than knowing it had something to do with the family, he didn't know anything more about the practice of wearing it.  In the few years since he’d left the colony on Venus to join Starfleet, Jason still had never visited Bajor.  The closest he'd come to Bajor was when he went to DS9 months ago to meet his Section 31 contact.  He was within range of Bajor, he just didn’t have the time.

Jason looked behind him briefly to the Bajoran officer.  “Any word from the Romulans since we arrived?”  The Bajoran turned from her station and stepped over to the backing behind the command area.  “Negative sir.  I doubt they’re aware we’re even in orbit.”  The Ferengi officer sitting at the operations console near the viewscreen turned briefly looking at Captain Korrel and the Bajoran tactical officer and spoke.  “If I may remind you Captain,  our cloaking device IS still active for the moment.”  The Ferengi quickly swiveled back around in his chair and resumed the monitoring of his console.   Jason shook his head at the thought.   He wasn't used to traveling on a ship that used a cloak regularly.  “Deactivate the cloaking device of course, and go to yellow alert.”

The Bajoran officer now back at her station activated the ship’s security status, changing it from normal to yellow.  Meanwhile the Ferengi sitting at the operations post acknowledged the cloaking device had been deactivated.  “Incoming communications from the planet, or rather New Romulus!” Reported the Bajoran.  Jason stood and stepped closer to the viewscreen.  “I would imagine so Lieutenant Ephedrine.  I'm sure they had all kinds of planetary sensors go off when we appeared out of thin air.  Anyhow, put them on the screen.”  Jason ordered.  He was speaking to the Bajoran officer.

A second later, a bone thin and grey haired looking man, with similar ears in nature to Jason’s own appeared onscreen.  When the older man seen that Jason slightly resembled him somewhat because of the skin tone and ears, he looked immediately irritated and seemed  verbally upset when he spoke.  “How dare your Federation send a Vulcan of all abominable creatures to negotiate with us?!”  Jason knew the Vulcan and Romulan races shared a common ancestry but he was eager to prove he was no Vulcan.  He stepped closer to the screen.  “I ask you sir, look closer at my appearance; specifically my eyes and even my ear structure.  I assure you sir, that I am no Vulcan.  I do however have a single Vulcan on board but she serves as my counselor and chief of interrogation.”

The old Romulan then did as Jason suggested.  He took his time and carefully let his eyes wander over every inch of Captain Korrel’s slim, muscular form.  The elder Romulan didn’t want to leave anything to chance.  Being a ruler of his people’s new Republic, the duty fell upon him to protect his people.  It only took a short bit to fully examine visually the young captain standing before him on the viewscreen.  The Elder Romulan was shocked to indeed find a Vulcan with pale blue eyes, a very lightly tanned face, dark black hair combed over to the side and parted.  Not to mention this young chap had short ears with the lobes of the ears resembling more closely those of a human than that of a Vulcan or a Romulan; with the exception of course the upper portion of the young captain’s ears coming to a very fine and sharp point.  It could possibly only mean one thing: this Starfleet Captain was most likely not Vulcan, or if he were then he was some kind of hybrid or half-breed as the term was.  He could also very well be half-Romulan, but if the young man were, then where was the semi-pronounced brow ridge that was typical of both the Romulan and Vulcan races? Instead, this young man had a smoothed brow just like a human.  For if the captain were even part Vulcan, then normal genetic traits dictated he would not have blue eyes.  Typical Vulcan hybrids were not known to be capable of inheriting colored eyes from a human parent.  The answer was obvious: this young boy-like captain could only be half-Romulan.

After more than ten minutes went by Captain Korrel began to pace about the bridge, while the Elder Romulan continued to study him and seemingly judge him.  Finally Jason decided enough time had passed and he returned to the viewscreen area.  “I take it Praetor I meet your satisfaction?” Jason asked.  The Elder Romulan nodded.  “You are most certainly not a Vulcan it would seem.”  The Elder made note of the captain’s blue eyes specifically.  “Then again, you are not entirely human either.  What exactly are you?” Jason gave a little nod in agreement, a little smile in a devilish manner but at the same time remembering to remain respectful.   He knew Starfleet needed the treaty signed as did the new Romulan government.

“You’re correct sir on that front. As I said before, I'm not Vulcan, but yes I'm not human either.  My mother had an affair with a Romulan senator while she was stationed at Starfleet Medical.  I won't go into the details at this time but you get the gist of how I came to be I believe.”  The Elder nodded.  “Yes I believe I do Captain.  And I believe I know now why your Federation’s Starfleet sent you instead of any other Captain.”  Jason clapped his hands with excitement and whistled, surprising the elder.  “Then let's get down to business shall we?”  The Elder glared at him.   “Not so fast my young Captain.  I know nothing about you, not even your name.”  Jason apologized for his misstep.  “I'm Captain Jason Korrel.  And you would be?”  The elder introduced himself as Praetor Tokyo, of the Ministry of Defense.  Praetor Tokyo among other things, he was also in charge of overseeing all planetary defense and charged with rebuilding the republic’s fleet as quickly as possible.  “I'll be damned if we're going to leave ourselves at the mercy of the Klingons!” Praetor Tokyo said sternly.  Jason nodded and waved a finger behind him at Lieutenant Ephedrine.  “We're sending you a copy of the signed treaty now Praetor.  If you'd be so good as to read through it and sign it yourself and then transmit your signed copy to us we can be on our way.”

Captain Korrel’s pushy nature about signing the treaty suddenly, and only within making first contact only twenty minutes or so ago made Praetor Tokyo feel uneasy.  Why was this Captain in such a rush to sign the treaty and then leave?  Was there something the Captain wasn’t telling him?  Had this captain and his crew done something illegal and now they were on the run?  Or was this treaty really even sanctioned to begin with by those at Starfleet Command?  Perhaps the Federation was only pretending to accept the Romulan’s petition while secretly planning an invasion of New Romulus, and this captain was just the first warrior to arrive; a prelude to the vanguard of many.  With this captain being half-Romulan,  perhaps they thought the Romulans would be more open to talk, and therefore easier to invade later.  These were all thoughts running through Praetor Tokyo’s mind just after receiving his copy of the treaty signed by Captain Korrel; being that Captain Korrel was in fact Starfleet’s designated representative in the matter at hand.

“My many thanks Praetor but soon as we receive the signed treaty from you then we must depart.  We are urgently needed on a mission of great importance in another sector.”  “Ah! I see now Captain, and Starfleet doesn't consider this matter of great importance to enjoy our hospitality, while I have some of the other members of our Republic leadership look over this treaty more carefully? It’s not that we don't trust Starfleet to have a hidden agenda or to have a hidden loophole somewhere in these documents…”  The Praetor paused for a moment,  smiled then continued.  “Well, that's just it Captain, WE DON'T trust you.  Then again thanks to the days of the Tal Shiar, we don't really trust anyone, not even our own people at times.   But perhaps in time and through future generations that's something we can change.  Now what about my earlier invitation?”  Jason started to repeat his earlier statement, that the Providence only came to get the treaty signed and leave, but the Praetor held his hand up and interjected his own comments.  “Let me put it another way then Captain.  If YOU DON'T accept our invitation, the treaty will NOT be signed and you'll be sent on your merry little way! Then I’ll contact the closest Klingon Defense Force station and tell them there's a rogue Federation starship going through the nearby systems, attacking colony after colony.”

Jason became warm all over his face and neck; the level of blackmail Praetor Tokyo was willing to stoop to in order to get them down to the planet was appalling.  It absolutely infuriated the young commander-turned-captain.  Why was this Romulan  Praetor so eager to get Jason and a few officers to beam down to the planet?  What was the motivation behind it?  All this just so the old man would sign a treaty?  No, there had to be something more to it Jason thought.  However he knew once he and a few unarmed officers beamed down anything could happen.  They would literally be at the mercy of the Romulans on the planet.  If Jason did agree to the elder Praetor’s terms, then he and the crew would have to setup some kind of contingency plan to get them off the planet if things turned ugly.

“Very well Praetor, I agree to your terms.”  Praetor Tokyo squealed and grinned with visible delight on the viewscreen.  “I’ll gather up a few officers and we’ll beam down within the hour.”  “Wonderful! I’ll send you the coordinates shortly and we'll begin making preparations to receive you immediately!”  The Praetor disappeared from the viewscreen and was replaced by an image of a glowing starfield in the background with a large sandy-yellowish looking planet that looked as if it hardly had any water or vegetation.

Lieutenant Ephedrine stepped away from her station and over to the railing that separated the rear stations from the command area and the front area of the bridge.  “Captain with all due respect, you can’t go down there! They’re Romulans, just like the Cardassians, they can't be trusted!”  Jason took in a breath and let out a heavy sigh.  “I know Lieutenant, but what can I do?  He’s got us between a rock and a hard place.  The last thing we need is half a dozen Klingon battle cruisers blowing us from here to Risa, all in the name of honor and the glory of battle!”  Jason let outa small little giggly laugh.  “I’ll also forget that comment you made about not being able to trust Romulans either.”  He pinched the tip of one of his ears and gave it a little tug.  Lieutenant Ephedrine immediately apologized.  Jason instead waved a hand at her, saying he was only ribbing her.  He looked back at the viewscreen briefly then back at Lieutenant Ephedrine who had already went back to her station.  

“Lieutenant Ephedrine assemble the senior staff, briefing in ten minutes.  We’ll decide in a few how to proceed with this.”

I hope you enjoyed this initial installment concerning a fresh, young crew and a newly built starship.  I also hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.  You can reach me as always through multiple forms with general comments and/or feedback on anything you've read that I have written, on Twitter: @Kronoso1979, or on Facebook under Edward Alex Lively; my author name.

Thanks again for reading.

Edward Alex Lively

Please be mindful of the following statement:

Star Trek and all related items to it are registered, copyrighted works and fully trademarked by Paramount Pictures, Viacom/and or CBS broadcasting in any and all its forms.  This fan-fiction piece is purely for entertainment purposes only and not for profit, no matter how original an idea and the characters themselves I created may be.

Gene Roddenberry (August 19th, 1921-October 24th, 1991)
Majel Barrett-Roddenberry (February 23rd, 1932-December 18th, 2008)

About Star Trek Providence

What follows is a short story I wrote awhile back and then later expanded upon it.  This is just a piece of fan-fiction that I wrote.  It is about a young half-human, half-romulan Starfleet commander who is in his early twenties.  He is full of life and even more so, his head is filled with a great abundance and deep sense of duty, honor, and pride.  He has pride for the uniform that he wears, the ship he serves on, and his deep sense of duty and loyalty is not to just his ship and crew but also Starfleet and the Federation.

This young captain, a young fellow by the name of Jason Korrel is working not just to fulfill his duty bound obligations to Starfleet and the Federation as a whole, but he's also working towards what he believes in his mind to be the greater good.  At least the secretive agency at Starfleet Intelligence known as Section 31 has convinced him of that fact.  Section 31 is a highly secretive, covert agency.  It's sort of like an intelligence agency within Starfleet's own Intelligence division.  Only a select few at Starfleet Command and the Intelligence division itself are even truly aware of the existence of Section 31.

I haven't at this time decided whether or not this will be a single installment or if I will continue it later on, as of the time I wrote this, I am still working on my own original work.   I simply do not have the adequate time to devote the full development of something that I will not ever be able to have or hold any rights to anyhow.  Writing fan-fiction is something I just do for kicks ever so often.

Please keep in mind however, that Star Trek and all related items to it are registered, copyrighted works and fully trademarked by Paramount Pictures, Viacom/and or CBS broadcasting in any and all its forms.  This fan-fiction piece is purely for entertainment purposes only and not for profit, no matter how original an idea and the characters themselves I created may be.

Of course credit for Star Trek's creation, ultimately goes to the late Gene Roddenberry and late his wife, Majel Barrett-Roddenberry.

Gene Roddenberry (August 19th, 1921-October 24th, 1991)
Majel Barrett-Roddenberry (February 23rd, 1932-December 18th, 2008)

Saturday, August 8, 2015

The Sphinx Sample

***Excerpt from The Sphinx****

The large solid, square golden doors stood almost seven feet high and almost six feet wide.  The doors stood as the only entrance to the Pantherkuza throne room.  As the doors opened slowly they creaked loudly, echoing throughout the chamber of the throne room.  Once the doors stood fully open, in walked the head of the Pantherkuza sorcerer's council, Nakamun.  The sorcerer was flanked on his right side by a lower level apprentice.

As Nakamun entered the elaborately decorated throne room he immediately took note of the two Jaguaringo guards standing on either side of the large doors.  The guards were like most typical Jaguaringo guards; tall, wide shouldered, extremely muscular and wearing the solid steel battle armor most soldiers wore.  Most importantly Nakamun noticed both guards had attached to their hips a long, thick curved blade that was so sharp it could carve off the hide of a fellow Sphinx without even trying.

The throne room itself was constructed with walls of pure gold however the flooring was made from large interlocking stone blocks.  The wall were elaborately decorated with golden tapestries made from the finest silks and other fabrics that could be found across Luna.  In the center of the throne room was what was common in most royal throne rooms.  A large sacraficial pyre.

Beyond the pyre toward the rear of the room sitting upon a throne of solid gold, Nakamun observed Prince Dubai sitting and staring straight ahead as if waiting for something.  Nakamun knew who and what his prince was waiting for.  Nakamun then observed standing on either side of the prince two more Jaguaringo guards.  Their attention not focused on anything but looking straight at the door to the throne room.

Prince Dubai had been sitting idle when Nakamun first entered but now he made a sweeping motion with one hand to the guards behind Nakamun.  The guards standing near the doors without breaking a sweat, pushed the large doors closed then secured them with a large silver beam across the doors.

Nakamun looked behind him briefly as the doors were sealed and wondered for what reason the doors were being sealed.  He then dismissed it and turned his attention back to the prince.  Nakamun asked in a voice that was barely audible, more like a whisper.  "My lord you sent word you wished to see me."

"Yes I did.  I wish to know of what your spies in Posideon City have to report."  Prince Dubai said.  Not forgetting his place, Nakamun stepped closer to the throne with his apprentice and both kneeled before the prince.  Without looking up Nakamun answered again with a whisper.  "I regret it's not pleasant news.  It would seem that King Mahameed has apparently left the city some time ago."

The prince stood slowly from his throne and when he walked closer to Nakamun and his apprentice, the two Pantherkuza began to slightly shake.  The prince began to pace slowly back and forth in front of his throne for a moment.  Something was weighing on his mind.  He abruptly stopped and looked down at the sorcerer kneeling before him. Dubai them ordered both Pantherkuza to stand.

"Gone from the city? Gone where?" Dubai asked with a deep growling tone.  With no hesitation Nakamun answered the prince.  "The spies report the king has taken a small group of soldiers and sailed across the Aquarius Ocean.  Apparently they were headed for The Karoo Providence."  Dubai's brow scrunched up and his expression turned to a nasty sneer.

"He's gone to visit the Lynxar no doubt. But for what reason I wonder? The only thing I can think of is they must be secretly planning to attack us."  Dubai's long, rounded mouth curled into a nasty grin. "No matter then.  With the old fool gone it will make capturing Posideon City all that much easier when the time comes.  Just people won't have anyone to rally behind!  We can worry about finding and taking care of him later."

Nakamun cackled with evil delight.  "Not to worry my lord!  I have already taken measures to track the king down and capture him alive or dead!"  Dubai demanded that Nakamun explain himself.
"I have sent the best of the Pantherkuza trackers we have across the Aquarius Ocean to find the king and bring him back no matter what it takes."

"Wonderful!!!" Exclaimed Dubai.  His voice ehoed loudly throughout the chamber.  There was but a moment of silence as Dubai contemplated his next words.  "I suppose then I should have no further use for you then."  No sooner did those words leave Dubai's lips did Nakamun's apprentice start backing away slowly.  "I'm  confused by what you mean my lord."

Dubai stepped closer to Nakamun.  So close that Nakamun could feel the warm breath from his prince's nostrils.  Suddenly and without warning Dubai reached out and with one hand grabbed the short in stature Pantherkuza sorcerer by the throat, lifting him high into the air.  As Nakamun was suspended in the air he could see down into the prince's eyes.  As he continued to look upon the face of his prince, Dubai's eyes began to glow a bright amber.

"Did you really think I wouldn't find out about your betrayal you little troll?!" With a nod of his head in the direction of the apprentice Dubai then said, "You can thank your apprentice here for coming to me.  Apparently his greed is more important than his sense of loyalty."

Nakamun knew he was in trouble so he pleaded for mercy.  "My lord, I don't know what you mean!!!  I don't know what he told you but it's all lies I swear!!!"  Dubai nodded.  "Right!!! Of course it is you fool! Your apprentice told me everything!!! He told me about your secret midnight rituals to grant yourself more dark arcane power!"  Dubai shook a finger and waved it in Nakamun's face.  "Let me be clear on this matter! You'll never replace me Nakamun because I won't give you that chance!!!"

Dubai's eyes began to glow brighter and brighter until two beams of energy shot forth, pouring directly into Nakamun's eyes.  As the guards stood by idly watching, the apprentice watched as well.  He started to shake and tremble with absolute fear.  The real terror set in as the apprentice watched as Nakamun was rapidly reduced to a shriveled up mess of rotting flesh and burnt hair left inside what was once the purple and golden silk robes of the Pantherkuza sorcerer.

When he was finished destroying his betrayer as his master ordered him to, Dubai released his grip on the now almost skeletal remains of Nakamun, letting the corpse drop to the stone floor of the throne room.  Dubai then turned his full attention to the apprentice who stood cowering in a corner.  "Spread the word you little troll.  Spread it near and far across my empire!  This is what happens to those who think of betraying me!!! Now get outta my sight you worthless little mongrel or you'll suffer the same fate!!!"

There was a loud echo as the guards rushed to unseal and open the door.  Once the door was opened the apprentice wasted no time in scurrying out of the room.  Dubai then turned and walked back to his throne and took his seat as the doors were being closed once more.

***Excerpt from The Sphinx****
                  Edward Alex Lively

New Update

Hello friends,

I have been very busy lately working on some things.   Mostly finishing a new story abd then going and working on another story I am working on at the moment.  For the time being until I finish this new story there won't be any new entries in the Southern Gothic Tales.

The new story I am currently working on was started about a month or so ago before I had surgery to remove my gallbladder which had swelled to a dangerous level, thus requiring its timely removal.  Since the surgery I have been keeping busy working on the latest Southern Gothic Tales entry which I finished and so now I am back to working on this short fantasy story.

This short story involves a race of feline type beings that exist in another part of the galaxy.  These feline beings which I like to call "The Sphinx" live on a world that is ripe with wild beasts, heavy uses of magic, and the worship of multiple gods.

I will share a sample passage here that shows just a preview of how things are from the viewpoint of one of the story's many antagonists.  I'll let you know up front that you might recognize the names of the antagonist or other character mentioned.  The reason being is because I have used what I know about real life to draw upon for inspiration to help create my world.

I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it and then sharing it with you.  My only request if you share my blog post is that you DO NOT take any of my ideas then change them around in order to make them your own.

My story has familiar elements true but that's because I have based my original story on real world mythology to some degree.  This story is an original idea of my own.  It's also a story I have been thinking about writing for a year or more but until recently I had no real idea or general concept of how I wanted to properly write it out.


Edward Alex Lively

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Southern Gothic Tales:10/6 Excerpt

The Thomas Jefferson Home for Boys was one of two adoption agencies that served the greater Southeast Texas area until they closed down five years ago, amid allegations of child abuse. At the time they closed down, they were under investigation by state investigators. There had been several anonymous calls also by former employees that the boys living in the home were being physically abused, if not worse.  Among the allegations of abuse, several of the young boys had run away from the home only to never be seen or heard from again. Alice's very own grandson was ten when he vanished. However before anything could be proven the home shutdown and the remaining children transferred into the custody of the only other adoption agency in town; The Tejas Adoption Agency, which immediately took over handling all adoptions across Southeast Texas.  Sometime after Thomas Jefferson closed, the former proprietor, a woman by the name of Alice Hemphill, now in her early seventies became sick with a brittle bone syndrome to the point she was left bedridden. If it hadn't been for Alice's daughter to wait on her hand and foot then Alice would've perished long ago.

The kitchen of the old house was wall-to-wall solid wood construction with a few splinters here and there but that was to be expected considering the age of the house.  Even the white paint had started to fade long ago. The small brass handles on each cabinet door and each drawer throughout the kitchen, long ago had started to tarnish. It was only Alice and her daughter living in the home now so there wasn't as much of a need to keep things up.  Against a wall upon entering the kitchen to the right, was the series of wooden cabinets with their faded paint, complete with their tarnished brass handles. There was no kitchen window or other exit from the kitchen except the one entryway.  Near the end of the cabinets in a corner sat an old style, single door white icebox with a tarnished metal, spoon shaped handle.  Across from the cabinets was a large black iron, gas stove with four burners. On the same wall as the stove was a large dark wooden door but it wasn't an exit. It was a storage room of some kind.  Even the plain white kitchen floor tile was showing its age as there were cracks in several places.

It was now at this stove that Ann Hemphill; Alice's daughter stood cooking something in a small blue and white speckled pot made from tin. Every few seconds or so Ann would pick up a small wooden soup spoon and stir the contents of the pot. Like her mother, Ann was a conservative dresser and so she was wearing one of her usual long blue dresses with a big white apron tied behind her back and on her feet she was wearing small, black slip-on shoes.  Sometimes after she would stir the pot Ann would rub her hands together while she was waiting for the contents to begin boiling.  Lately her arthritis had been acting up so badly that she'd been considering taking a pain pill. She had an arthritis cream she typically used but she did have pills in case needed them. If her hands were still hurting as badly as they were now after she finished her mother's supper, then Ann would try using her creme first. If that didn't help then she would try a warm salt bath.  The pills would be a last resort if anything.

The sound of liquid boiling made Ann open her eyes and look down. The clam chowder she was cooking was just about ready. She reached up and turned the fire down just enough so it would keep the chowder hot. Then she turned behind her to the cabinets and opened one cabinet, taking out a wooden tray. The tray was small but large enough to hold a plate or other items.  Sometimes Ann grew tired of waiting on her mother but she knew it was her duty and there was nothing she could do about it, short of killing her and that was something she could never do; bring herself to harm another human being.

Beneath the cabinet where she found the tray inside a drawer, Ann found a faded beige cloth napkin, neatly folded and put away with a single collection of solid silverware.  The napkins and dinnerware mostly fell into disuse after they had stopped using the banquet hall but that had only occurred when her mother had closed the home. Ann took a single spoon and one of the napkins then gently laid both items onto one side of the wooden tray. Then with that task complete she returned to the stove to stir the chowder once more. After stirring the chowder one final time Ann turned the gas to the stove completely off.  She returned briefly to the cabinet for two more items, a small red plastic bowl and a clear drinking glass.  She went back to the stove with only the bowl leaving the glass next to the tray.  With the bowl in one hand, she began using the wooden spoon and began scooping chowder into the small bowl.  Once she was satisfied there was enough for her mother, Ann let the wooden spoon rest on the stove and carefully took the bowl over to the tray behind her and set it down slowly as the bowl had been made piping hot by the chowder.

Ann then went to the storage door and opened it which revealed it to be a large walk-in pantry. She picked up from a shelf inside a brown bag that had inside a loaf of homemade rye bread. She removed only a single slice returned the bag to the shelf and exited the pantry closing the door behind her.  After setting the slice of bread down on the tray next to the bowl of chowder, she then picked up the glass and went to the icebox that sat over in the far corner diagonally. She opened the door and took out a pitcher of ice cold water, filled the glass up then returned the pitcher to the top shelf in the icebox.  She walked back over to the counter where the wooden tray was sitting and sat the now filled glass down on the tray next to the still steaming bowl of chowder. She looked down at the tray with its full load then at her hands which seemed to be trembling now just slightly.

Her mother was in the last room on the third floor which was practically the attic. But she had to try and see if she could lift the tray. As she attempted to lift the tray with both hands, a crackling pain shot through both her hands and them up her arms, making her hands tremble even worse. No, today she would definitely need one of her pain pills as the cream and a salt bath just wasn't going to cut it.  If she took one of her pills it would not only help steady her hands but also ease her pain. But her pills were upstairs in her room and that meant making her mother wait. Well, her mother would just have to wait a few minutes longer. She was in too much pain right then.

As Ann left the kitchen and was making her way through the main hall of the old house there was a sudden light knock at the front door. Sighing from the aggravation this interruption had caused, Ann slowly made her way to the door. With her hands hurting the entire time she set about unlocking the three deadbolts that served as the gatekeeper to protect Ann and her mother from the horrors of the outside world.  She almost had the third lock released when there was another knock. "I'm hurrying as fast as I can!" Ann called out. Her arthritis was making it more difficult than it should've been to open the large locks, however in the end she finally achieved her goal and pulled the door open.  She was quite surprised and annoyed at the same time to find that after opening the door that no one was on the other side. She stood there for a moment anyway looking about the overgrown yard just in case it was neighborhood children playing a prank. Her hair moved back and forth upon her head as did the branches in the trees ever so slightly as a gentle breeze suddenly came blowing through.

The only illumination came from a single porch light attached just outside the door. But it was enough that Ann could see some  feet into the yard but not by much. The wind began to suddenly pickup and it gave her a quick chill not to mention an uneasy feeling for some reason or another. She finally decided it was just kids having a laugh at her expense and slammed the door back.  She had been heading back into the kitchen when she remembered she still needed her pills.  Ann changed direction mid-stride and headed for the white marble staircase in the center of the main hall. Ann was at the top of the stairs when she thought she heard another light knock, again at the front door.  This time she ignored it because she figured if it was kids eventually they would get bored when she refused to answer and go home. Or another possibility was it could just be the house settling. Ann dismissed both ideas and continued on to her room.

-Edward Alex Lively-

Positive Progress Thus Far

Hello Friends...

Edward Lively here once again!  I am here to report since my last blog entry that I have completed work on my latest entry in the Southern Gothic Tales Series.  I call it, Coyote, Texas.  So once I publish it to which of course it will sell for my standard fee of $.99, I surely hope you will buy a copy and support me as I continue on my quest to grow as a burgeoning author.  

In the interim I am already hard at work on another installment in the Southern Gothic Tales Series and a yet unannounced science fiction title.  Both of the working rough drafts are almost somewhat complete.  When the science fiction title is completed and I finish at least one decent edit on it, then I shall reveal more details about the science fiction piece.  I have of course already ran ahead of myself and given both pieces of work final titles as I have found more than appropriate titles for them.

The newest installment that comes after Coyote, Texas however, is called Southern Gothic Tales:10/6.  It relates to a young man who after years away, finally returns home to Tejas and the home where he spent most of his youth.

Most likely unless I can find an online publisher, then like my other work I will be publishing this to as well.  I will make another posting after this where you can read a brief preview of this upcoming story.  I will also post a preview of Coyote, Texas as well.  Again once I publish Coyote, Texas to Amazon please look for it at the bargain price of $.99.  Also don't forget to keep up with me on Twitter @Kronoso1979,, and I think it's the same name on Instagram but I'm not entirely sure as I don't use it as much.

In addition to writing my own fiction, sometimes I enjoy writing fan fiction, then I write commentary on my Facebook page under this name which I have taken after my great-grandfather's name.  I have written about some social issues, horrible customer service experience and the like.  More or less I am somewhat a keen observer of people's behavior and then if inspired enough, I will blog or write about it.  Some call it ranting but I prefer to call it, "Showing people their inner, ugly selves."  

However I digress as that is not mostly what this blog is purposed or intended for.  It is intended for me to show off my writing skills which I will readily admit may not be up to some people's Harvard like standard but I am constantly working to improve myself.  


Sunday, January 25, 2015

Brief Description and Cover Regarding my new short story.

I'm just about finished with the editorial of my latest short story so having said that I wanted to take a few moments to make a quick blog entry about that and just go on to say that even though I'm not like most bloggers; who're constantly writing what they're up to each and every day, I'm still alive and well for the most part.

I will also attach (if possible) to this posting a sample of the cover I am working on for my new short story that I will be posting very soon (hopefully) to Amazon. Naturally when I publish my story to Amazon then you will hear about it either through my blog, my Facebook, Twitter feed, and then of course I will be making a new video which I will then post to YouTube.

A brief description about the story.  The story revolves around a troubled young man who comes from a small country town in Texas located not far from Tejas.  Tejas of course being the fictional town that was introduced in my first book in the Southern Gothic Tales series.

The young man over the course of his life has been plagued with nothing but one difficulty after another.  To find out what happens then all I can tell you is that you'll' just have to buy the short story when I publish it.  If you are quick enough you will be able to get it for free as I will do what I did when I published the first book.  I ran a free promotion and then afterwards the book will be set at a standard price $.99.  I take the smallest royalty Amazon offers because I'm not a greedy person.  I never have been and I never will be.

As always you can reach me at, @kronoso1979 on twitter and I'm under Google+ as Edward Lively, and on YouTube as Kronoso1979 or Edward Lively.  I can't remember the YouTube details as I don't use it that often unless I need it lol.

So without further ado I present to you the cover to my newest short story.