Sunday Snippet: Personal Involvement

Hi!

Okay, I can't discuss Strike Back just yet, but I will say I love shows where NOBODY is safe. Speaking of no one being safe, Sons of Anarchy returns Tuesday and I'm ready to start marking the death toll. LOL

Now for something a little less morbid. J Tonight's post is from Personal Involvement and features one of my favorite angsty set-ups…personal involvement in the military and the fallout that smacks the characters in the face. J

Here's the tagline:

Tarin Glade gets caught up in a nightmare when she's brought before a disciplinary council for her personal involvement with a student who failed basic flight. When Ellis Spector, the brother of the complainant, speaks on Tarin's behalf, it rocks the foundation of his family—especially since the commandant who brought the charges is Ellis's father.

And a sneaky peek…

Ellis rose from his spot behind Tarin and strode to the docket. "Admiral Chekwick, Ellis Spector for the defense."

The admiral blinked and cocked his head. "Just a moment, Lieutenant Spector, you're here to give testimony on behalf of the defendant?" He shuffled the pages in the file folder. "But your brother is the complainant."

Ellis gave a terse nod. "Yes, Admiral."

Chekwick lifted a brow. "Care to explain that one, young man?"

Ellis heaved an inward sigh. "Sir, Ensign Glade, upheld her sworn duty. She recognized a lack of true commitment on Cadet Spector's part and wouldn't forward him on to the qualifications test." He paused. "She did this in spite of being under pressure from Commandant Spector to send his boy to earn his wings."

Ellis kept as much heat out of his voice as he could and prayed he'd succeeded.

The admiral studied Ellis. "You have strong feelings about this."

He made it a statement, but Ellis clarified. "I have strong feelings about my brother's life—which Ensign Glade saved by not passing him." He glanced toward his brother. "Regardless of the cost to her career, she wouldn't cave on her decision."

The admiral's mouth thinned to a straight slash across his face. "Lieutenant, are you daring to assume you know the outcome of this tribunal?"

Ellis shook his head. "Quite the contrary, Admiral. I'm speaking solely about the fact she'll suffer a black mark on her record whether she's cleared here or not." Ellis shot his father a direct look.

The admiral took notice. "Your old man has a lot of pull, Lieutenant."

Ellis nodded. "Yes, Sir, he does. And he's earned every bit of it." He stopped there, keeping his tone respectful.

The admiral's lips quirked. "He has. Let's hope he chooses to use that sway to the betterment of Ensign Glade's career instead of making it detrimental."

Ellis wanted to pump his fist in the air. Tarin would walk away from the tribunal free and clear. And the admiral basically laid it out for the old man. Don't screw with her—even commandants can earn black marks.

Checkwick asked an additional question. "Lieutenant, can you confirm, for the record, that the break-up between Ensign Glade and Cadet Spector has nothing to do with the flight qualifications?"

An unexpected turn, and possibly a tricky situation to avert. Ellis took a moment and gathered his words carefully. "If I may speak freely, Sir?"

The admiral nodded. "Go ahead, young man."

Ellis nodded toward his brother. "My brother entered Ensign Glade's class after they started dating. I can't state why he kept his enrollment a secret from her, but I can confirm she had no preconception he'd be there on the first day, and was, in fact, shocked to see him."

So shocked she'd all but dragged him out of the classroom to dress him down for not being where he should be.

Ellis continued. "From that first day, she informed Cadet Spector he wouldn't receive any kind of preferential treatment and would have to pull his weight or risk failure. I was headed for the classroom to wish Cadet Spector luck when I witnessed that conversation."

The admiral inclined his head. "Go on, Lieutenant."

Ellis finished his statement. "I can't, in good faith, say the break-up has nothing to do with the qualifications. I think it has everything to do with Eddie not being allowed to go forward. But he's the one who initiated the split—after Ensign Glade refused to sign off on his simulation scores."

Eddie stood up. "I never told you I'm the one who broke up with Ensign Glade."

Ellis prayed the admiral would take the opening provided.

The superior officer asked. "Were you, Cadet?"

Eddie realized his mistake too late. He had no choice but to answer truthfully or risk court martial for lying under oath.

Shoulders slumped, he answered. "Yes, Sir."

The admiral pressed forward. "When, exactly, did you inform Ensign Glade you no longer wanted to be in a relationship, Cadet?"

Eddie shot the elder Spector a sideways glance. "The same day Commandant Spector spoke with her and she refused to let me take the flight test."

Ephram rose, turned on his heel, and exited the room. Ellis had hoped for the reaction, wanting his dad to understand Eddie's deceit and put Tarin in the absolute clear. Ellis met the admiral's gaze, hoping the man understood why Ellis had taken some liberty with how he presented the facts. His old man needed to have his eyes opened and realize Eddie played both sides against the middle. And couldn't be allowed to do it anymore.

The admiral motioned for Ellis to be seated. "Ensign Glade."

Tarin rose from her seat and faced the admiral.

"The charges before me are hereby dismissed and you'll return to active duty at 0700 tomorrow morning." He lifted the gavel, ended the proceeding.

Ellis risked a glance toward Tarin. She kept her eyes ahead and shoulders straight even though she'd been cleared. Ellis admired the discipline she exhibited. So not her style, but maybe she'd learned a little something from tangled aftermath of dealing with his brother.

Once the admiral exited the room, Tarin turned and made her way to Ellis. "You're an idiot, but I can't thank you enough."

Ellis grinned. "Yes, you can. Have dinner with me then come to my place for movies and popcorn."

She chuckled. "A free meal and entertainment? How can I refuse?"

Ellis shook his head. "You can't. I'll pick you up at seven."

She laughed. "Make it five. I have an early day tomorrow."

He smiled. "Five it is." He started for the exit. "Carpathian seafood?"

Tarin nodded. "It's my favorite. And action movies. None of those lame comedies."

Ellis paused by the door. "I have an entire shelf of them. We'll go alphabetically."

He left to the sound of Tarin's peals of laughter.

Ahhh, seems like all is well, right? It's not. LOL But that's another post on a different day.

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flip.

ML Skye

Sunday Snippet: Need

Hi,

I'm going to bore everyone with all my Strike Back talk, but holy hell, the hits keep coming. Poor Scott can't catch a break. I do have one wild hair theory of what I want for him at the end of the show's run, but I'll keep mum so I don't jinx it. :D

Tonight's post is from a manuscript that's a bit of a departure for me. It's got an omniscient narrator. I'm not completely sure it's going to work, but I love the flow so far. Need dives into how two people end up gravitating toward each other, almost in an inevitable way, because their need outweighs standard operating procedure, frat regs, and just about everything else. Very fun to write. :D

Here's the tagline:

Circe Nash and Oz Paterson, two top notch pilots, have the strangest courtship in the galaxy—one they swear doesn't even exist. But when the need to be together hits them, they inevitably find themselves in the same place at the same time, with a little help from their crewmates.

And the sneaky peek…

Circe Nash and Oz Paterson had the strangest courtship in the galaxy.

Sometimes the need to see each other hit them at exactly the same time. Sparks usually flew and they weren't the only two who noticed. The entire crew could pinpoint the exact moment it happened. And they had front row seats to the bizarre mating dance Circe and Oz would swear never actually took place.

Oh, but it did.

A top notch pilot, Circe could be out flying CAP, chattering away with the other pilots. She'd tease and lob insults and take her fair share of ribbing. Never one to dish out more than she could take, Circe usually kept the conversation going between the squad for the whole patrol.

But every once in a while, she'd go dead air silent for a few beats.

It happened to be one of those moments.

Oz would be deep into work on the comm deck, plotting courses, running coordinates and monitoring engineers and the deck crew. He'd be in the thick of his duties and stop, mid conversation with the landing station officer or keying in data, and go silent, like he'd heard something no one else did.

He'd get up, grab a headset and enter the discussion with the CAP. He could do that. As CAG, no one questioned his actions. It never took long for Circe to get back in the game and start trading barbs with her immediate superior.  

The over the air banter would take on a sharp-witted edge and everyone else would go quiet until end of shift, letting Circe and Oz carry out their weird brand of foreplay. Once the CAP landed, Circe met Oz or vice versa. Oddly, no words necessary, they'd exchange a look or a glance and fall into step beside each other then disappear. Or with a weird, silent communication make plans to meet without uttering a sound. The crew got used to the crazy interplay. They also knew not to go anywhere near Oz or Circe until both had laid-back smiles on their faces.

The two didn't start out so much in sync. In fact, Circe and Oz began their journey on opposite ends of the galaxy. Oz grew up on the central planet in their solar system. Commerce, education, and culture abounded in the primo location. A wide cross-section of every world shared the wealth of their knowledge and experience. Oz soaked it up and developed an appreciation for diplomacy.

Circe didn't leave her home world until a recruiter visited and offered her a chance. Street smart, she lacked discipline, but showed an aptitude for strategic planning. Razor sharp instincts kept her safe on the rough and tumble streets where gang law often trumped everything else.

She spoke her mind with fearless confidence and didn't suffer fools at all. She had some adjustment issues when she entered the military, used to living fast and free, coming and going as she pleased. But she quickly learned her natural ability to fly would buy lots of wiggle room. She also figured out how to walk the very fine line between skirting regulations and insubordination.

Their differences made things very interesting when Circe met Oz under less than stellar circumstances. She transferred in from a battle frigate, the Cyllene, and arrived during last dog watch. She discovered her tradition of entering the landing bay in an inverted position did not go over well with the CAG of the Titan.

Oz ordered her—from his bird out on CAP—to remain with her ship on the hangar deck until his shift finished…in two hours.

When he finally landed and the crew towed his plane to the hangar, he found Circe sitting on the wing of her ship, enjoying a meal from the galley. He completed his post-flight checklist in cold silence, giving the crew ample time to feel his wrath. Their always solid efficiency increased to superior levels and everyone gave him wide berth when he strode, slowly and with great purpose, to Circe's location.

Circe finished chewing her mouthful of food and washed it down with a long swallow of water. She slid off the wing, grabbed hold of the ladder and swung down to calmly wait for the CAG.

Everyone held their breath when Circe and Oz stood toe to toe for several long moments, taking each other's measure. No one knew what to expect when the CAG's gaze met the pilot's and sparks literally flew.

Circe gave Oz a cocky salute. "Lt. Circe Nash, callsign Trickster, reporting for duty." She waited a beat then added. "Sir."

Oz worked his jaw, silently clenching his teeth. "Wanna tell me why you disobeyed a direct order?" He completely skipped SOP and didn't offer the formal acceptance of her arrival.

Circe gave him an innocent gaze. "How do you figure I did that? I'm with my bird on the hangar deck…exactly as ordered." A slow smirk spread across her lips. "You didn't say anything about rations." She dragged the sleeve of her flight suit up and checked her watch. "And I hadn't anything to eat for ten hours."

Oz cocked his head to the side, silently regarding his new pilot. "You're gonna push the rules to the limit, aren't you?"

Circe's lips quirked and her eyes lit up. "That's what they're there for…Sir."

The deck crew waited for an explosion. The CAG's callsign of Wrath had been well-earned. He had a short fuse sometimes, and Circe all but lit the wick with her cheeky response.

The blast never came.

Instead, the CAG calmly responded. "I can see things will be a whole lot livelier with you around." He looked up, glancing at everyone on the deck. "They'll also be a lot cleaner." He shifted his gaze back to Circe. "You get to begin your tenure here with a week of detailing work on the planes." He turned and started for his office.

Circe grinned and called out. "Think I'm gonna like it here, Sir." When Oz angled his head around, she snapped off a crisp and precise salute, respect for the CAG clearly defined in her posture.

Oz snorted and shook his head. "We'll see about that, Lieutenant. We'll see."

Seriously, Circe and Oz's relationship has been so much fun to write through the narrator's eyes. I hope I can keep the flow going and finish it up soon.

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flip!

ML Skye

Sunday Snippets: Dress for Dinner

Okay, Walking Dead, you've got me. Didn't think I'd enjoy the showdown between Rick and the Governor, but yeah, I'm enjoying it. :D

But…a post must be made! So…tonight's is from the final installment in the Top Dog Pilots trilogy. Dress for Dinner has been so much fun to write. Not quite ready for prime time, but getting there. My hope is to finish it up and submit all three at the same time.

Here's the tagline:

Max and Maggie are training up and coming pilots and life is great. But when Maggie's uncle, a retired admiral, brings his new and much younger bride, to the ship for their honeymoon, Maggie takes one look at the woman and sees disaster. An emergency makes her miss the full dress dinner, leaving Max alone to deal with the hot simpering mess.

And here's a wee sneaky peek:

Maggie took one look at Celine Rockwell Harper and saw straight to the truth. The too high heels, clingy, low cut dress, and mounds of over styled hair proved to be a dead giveaway. Woman had trouble written all over her.

Oh, Uncle Artie. What the hell?

Maggie observed her new auntie in action. Her fingers lingered too long on the sleeves of the male officers. Her eyes flashed promises at each and every one. She thrived on suggestive words and innuendo. And she had a throaty laugh that seemed to be a mating call. Maggie would bet the woman had claws when crossed.

She aimed to find out.

Working her way through the throng of men packed around the vivacious red head, Maggie smiled sweetly. "Uncle Artie suggested I show you to the head…sorry, the facilities, so you can freshen up a bit." She turned to the disappointed masses. "Sorry, boys. She'll be back later." Maggie didn't wait for Celine to respond. She grabbed her arm above the elbow and dragged her down the corridor.

Celine stumbled along beside her, the heels of her fuck me shoes skittering on the nubby surface of the deck. Maggie shoved open the hatch and tugged Celine inside.

The other woman whirled around to face her. "What. The hell?" She tossed her head and straightened her shoulders.

Maggie smirked. "I'm sorry? You weren't done holding court?" She turned the water on and rinsed her hands. "I'm sure the guys will understand. None of them want to piss off a retired admiral."

Celine rolled her eyes and snorted. "Please. I've got Artie wrapped. He finds it's amusing when all those young bucks fawn all over me." She moved to stand in front of a mirror, adjusting the bodice of her dress.

Any lower and her tits would fall out.

Maggie shook her head back and forth. "You know, Celine. The thing about manipulative creatures like you is…you always think you're smarter than anyone else."

Celine's lips curved up in a nasty smile. "I usually am, darling."

Maggie shrugged. "Maybe. But the other thing about your type…" She moved to stand behind the other woman, meeting her gaze in the mirror. "And this is the best part, so pay attention." Celine narrowed her eyes, but said nothing. "You always trip yourself up. You can't help it." Maggie backed away, giving Celine room to refresh her lipstick. "Believe your own hype and eventually, it'll bite you on the ass."

Celine smoothed her lips together. "We'll see about that." She dropped the tube back in the tiny purse she carried. "My ass sees a lot of action."

Maggie smiled. "I have no doubt. Being a good lay won't always cut it with the admiral."

Celine's lips curved again and her eyes flashed. "You might be surprised. He quite loves the things I'm willing to do in bed."

Maggie held back a shudder. Way more information than she ever wanted about her uncle's sex life.

"He's not a stupid man, Celine. And you won't be able to help yourself. Sooner or later some hot young stud with a stiff dick will be your downfall."

Celine sauntered over to stand beside Maggie. "Not really your concern is it?" She pushed the hatch open and exited.

Maggie watched her totter precariously back toward the ready room. A young pilot, newly assigned to the Pathos, grasped her elbow and aided the sultry vixen back to her spot. Maggie heaved a sigh.

What a piece of work.

And no, her new auntie's next hard dick didn't concern Maggie. But her Uncle Artie's happiness, on the other hand, did.

The wicked bitch would need a watchful eye.

Maggie will be less than thrilled but not surprised by what follows. :D Stay tuned.

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flip!

ML Skye

BREAKING NEWS

Greetings from Hell Week!!!

Yes, I said Hell Week.

Your favorite on the beat blog reporter scored a coveted spot aboard the ASC (that's Aircraft Space Carrier for those not in the know) Mythos just when things in the military space program are gearing up to a fevered pitch.

But seriously? Who hasn't heard about the Mass Preparedness Assault Training or M-PAT? Ah…the military and their acronyms. And who isn't tired of the same recycled information, covered 24/7 since the announcement of this exercise? Is anyone not bored to tears yet?

I know I am.

What do we really care about? Certainly not silly war games in a peace time society. No, we care about the ins and outs of the behind the scenes drama.

Am I right?

That's why this reporter will be taking a different approach to gathering information. Will I wait for the daily briefing, containing the same carefully reworded information we've received since day one? I don't think so. What do we really want to know about the inner workings of a spacecraft carrier?

Yes, you wanna know as much as I do. What do the elite of the elite pilots really think about each other? Who hates whom? Where do they go for downtime on a ship the size of small city? And of course the big questions. When do they find time for sex? Where do they have it?

Yours truly has made it my personal mission to chase down the two top pilots, Max 'Ripper' Cutter and Maggie 'Magpie' Harper, and find out the burning answers.

Wish me luck!
The 'Skipper' (<-- a="" by="" call="" cute="" given="" isn="" it="" moi="" pilot.="" rookie="" sign="" span="" sweet="" t="" to="">

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Stella Snupe is an award-winning investigative journalist. After 25 years, she walked away from the trenches to focus on something fun and exciting, instead of dreary and depressing. Five years ago, she established the Daily Dash and it quickly became the most highly visited blog in the blogosphere. Her philosophy on life is: Live for fun, laugh for life, but always get the dirt.