Joe canted his head. “Could leave a lot of weight behind, you know, if we’re racing.” “How much?” Cannon said. Iseabail ticked off items on her fingers. “Guns an’ ammunition. Nae fightin’ allowed in the rules. Rocket rails. Yon radios, … Continue reading →

“I dinnae like it, cap’n,” Iseabail Crannach said. She ran a hand over her hair, failing utterly to tame the frizz, and stuck her hands in the pockets of her lab coat. “We made a deal.” She, Cannon, Joe, and … Continue reading →

“We stick with what we do best. In a few days, our target will be on the move. Macchi’s zep will head north over the water. We’ll hit them there and capture the zep. We score the racer, and a … Continue reading →

Emma Foster pushed open the door to Inconstant‘s briefing room and breezed inside. She was late. This was not unusual. It always took the skipper ten minutes to get through the pointless reasoning behind any given mission and come to … Continue reading →