A Snippet from True Son...

Here's a bit taken from The Rahn-tzl Master, Chapter Two of True Son of Tartarus:

   An unfamiliar Shalt-ahnk male filled the chamber's archway. Likewise clad in the supple, black Rahn-tzl costume, he was a tall man--taller even than he himself, Malkis noted--unusually broad-shouldered for one of his people, somewhat heavier of build as well. Stern and hawk-faced, this man looked every inch the warrior.
   Malkis immediately challenged the imposing stranger. "Where is Master Tr'gahn?"
   Steel-blue eyes fixed upon Malkis' pale-gray ones, the Shalt-ahnk began to approach with catlike grace. "Master Tr'gahn is indisposed. I will take his place for this lesson, Most Venerable One." The man inclined his blond head respectfully as he spoke.
   "Your name?"
   "D'nart, Most Venerable One."
   "Strange--I have never heard that name mentioned."
   Again, D'nart gave a slight bow to his Sovereign. "Most Venerable One, you returned to Thar-kalt only a matter of months ago--after an absence of many cycles. There are many Rahn-tzl Masters in the City."
   He gestured toward the pair of weapons, which lay exposed upon the stone bench. "Choose your weapon, Most Venerable One."    @copyright M. R. Tighe, 2012

That's it. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!

Keep reading; keep writing!
MRTighe

Another Peek into Judgment

Here's a snippet taken from Chapter Four: Paradise Lost:

   A day later, as Rona Scott was sitting by herself, enjoying a cup of coffee, Johann Weiner strolled into the Commissary and paused to search the crowd. Spotting Rona alone on the far side of the room, the blond medic ambled over to her table, hands in his pockets.

   "Rona Scott, isn't it?" he asked casually.

   "Dr. Weiner. Have a seat," she invited half-heartedly.

   He sank into the chair opposite her. "Haven't seen you since your physical--and that was weeks ago. Don't you ever go up to the Lounge to relax?" His light-blue eyes were intent on her face.

   Rona allowed a little warning frown to faintly crease her brow. "They've been keeping me pretty damn busy, Doctor, what with standing Bridge-duty twice a day, trying to keep up with my work in DataLab, and attempting--somewhat unsuccessfully--to grab a few hours of sleep between shifts," she told him snappishly. She figured it was none of his damn business why she chose not to frequent the Ship's Lounge.

   Weiner nodded his understanding. "That's normal on coming aboard a ship like this. Takes time to adjust to the damn schedule, not to mention the artificial gravity, artificial light, food--artificial just about everything!" he said in a disparaging tone. "Been aboard Astrella less than a year myself--transferred from Asgard. Take my word for it, Rona, you eventually do adjust."

   "Afraid this is as 'adjusted' as I get," Rona grumbled, fingering her coffee cup.

  "How're those nerves of yours?"

   "What nerves? Hell, I don't think I have any left, Doctor! Between Hughes and Malkis, every flaring nerve in my body has been blasted into interstellar dust!"

   Weiner chuckled and leaned back in his chair, fingers laced behind his blond head. "Damn pity you didn't get R&R then, Rona. Sounds to me as if you could've used some."

@copyright 2011 M. R. Tighe

That's all for now. You can read more by going to www.amazon.com, looking up Judgment on Tartarus, and searching the Look Inside feature. Have fun!

Keep reading and keep on writing!

MRTighe