Curveball

Superheroes are real. Someone wants to kill them all.

Liberty, America's first and most famous superhero, has been murdered. As most of the nation mourns, a few wonder if there's more to the story than people are being told. Heroes and villains come together to learn the truth behind the crime, and uncover a conspiracy much larger -- and more deadly -- than they expected.

What is Project Recall?

Start from the beginning

A Rake by Starlight

Politics is dirty. Piracy is just a little smudged.

Grif Vindh, Captain of the Fool's Errand, has a problem: he just stumbled across the single most dangerous thing in his part of the galaxy. It isn't a thing he would have looked for, if he'd known about it, but since he has it he figures he might as well try to sell it.

The problem is, it's not the kind of thing you can sell without taking a side... and taking sides makes you a walking target for all the other sides you didn't take.

Start from the beginning.

Pay Me, Bug!

Never bet against your Captain.

Grif Vindh, Captain of the Fool's Errand, just pulled off the job of a lifetime... but with great success comes unwanted attention. The government he stole from wants to find out how, and they've sent one of their best to track him down. A second government wants him to do it again, and they're willing to blackmail him to do it.

Start from the beginning.

Pay Me, Bug! - Chapter 05

Submitted by C B Wright on
WHEREIN the Devil is Given His Due

Commodore Hu Mavis was not a man given to luxury or excess; he was, largely, a man of discipline and austerity. His office aboard the Centurion, however, was a concession to comfort. He had remodeled it after the den in his home on Nuris: everything but the fireplace, which was impractical even on a ship that size. His desk was wood, the bookshelves, while not wood, were a good facsimile, and the books, while not made of paper, were actually bound.

It calmed him. It helped him focus. More than once he'd hit upon the solution to a seemingly insurmountable problem simply by sitting in this office, staring at the pictures of his wife, children, and grandchildren, and drinking tea.

It was late, and under most circumstances Mavis would, if he were up, be drinking tea before turning in to sleep. Tonight, however, Mavis had no intention of sleeping. Nor was he drinking tea: tonight he was drinking whiskey.

Pay Me, Bug! - Chapter 04

Submitted by C B Wright on
WHEREIN Our Hero is Revealed to Have Pulled a Fast One

Amys watched the bridge hatch close on Grif as he doubled over with laughter. The laughter, muted but still audible, faded as the lift took him to the lower decks.

Morgan stared at the hatch as Grif's laughter faded, replaced by a largely uncomfortable silence. "Huh."

Pay Me, Bug! - Chapter 03

Submitted by C B Wright on
WHEREIN Our Hero, Axe in Hand, Discovers the Forest Brought Guns. Many, Many Guns.

Centurion's flight deck was immense.

As Grif stepped off the lift, onto the smooth alloyed floor, he didn't feel like he was on a ship; he felt like he was underground. The few times the Fool's Errand had berthed in an enclosed space, the facility had been underground, and Centurion's flight deck clearly borrowed from this design. The walls were a series of octagonal tiles -- in an underground facility they would have been wedged into the surrounding rock itself. The ceiling, which cleared the top of Grif's ship with at least twenty meters to spare, housed long strips of lights to provide general lighting, and track-mounted lights to provide greater illumination where necessary.

It wasn't the first time Grif had been on this ship, and the initial feeling of disorientation passed, replaced with all the sights and sounds of a starship: the metallic taste of air pumped through recycling filters, the low hum of the gravity induction field, and the faint sheen of light reflecting off the Maxwells as they kept the atmosphere on one side of the launch port and the vacuum of space on the other.

A crisply spoken command drew his attention from the ship toward the two squads of heavily armed Radiant Throne Marines, and he was again reminded how very easy it was to be distracted from impressive feats of engineering.

Pay Me, Bug! - Chapter 02

Submitted by C B Wright on
WHEREIN Our Hero, Noting the Woods' Triumphant Return, Desperately Casts About for an Axe

"Centurion is hailing us," Morgan reported.

"Damn the Centurion!" Grif snarled. "Ktk, engines! Morgan, get me the SL Beacon. Better yet, get me one of those warships!"

Grif felt a sudden release as the grav plates deactivated, then a slight tug above and aft from the Centurion's gravlock. That cut away as the nullifier plates kicked in, preventing the gravitational pull of the beam from crossing the hull into the ship.

Over the intercom, Ktk reported that it was a bad idea to try and push the fusion drive at this point in time.

"I don't care if it's a bad idea," Grif said. "Until we're presented with a good idea, we're going to go with the only idea I have at the moment. Get on it!"

"This isn't fair," Doma whimpered.

"For once," Grif said, "I agree with you."

Pay Me, Bug! - Chapter 01

Submitted by C B Wright on
WHEREIN the Woods, Noting Our Hero's Sudden Departure, Resolve to Give Chase

There were two competing theories about the difficulties involved in superluminal navigation.

The first, popular in universities and laboratories, stated that all things were measurable, and as far as navigation was concerned, all measurable things could be measured to any required accuracy. It was, according to this theory, simply a matter of finding the numbers and entering them in the correct order. The second, popular on the bridge of most space-faring vehicles across the known galaxy, stated that every tool was finite in scope and fallible in operation, making any of those measurements prone to error.

Grif Vindh, captain of the Fool's Errand, was an experienced pilot; as such, he favored the latter theory.

It wasn't that he felt superluminal travel was inherently unsafe--it was unsafe in theory, but in practice he felt it was safer than anyone had a right to expect from an engineering end-run around the laws of physics that enveloped a ship in a field of artificial space and time, hurtling it through the galaxy at speeds the universe would just as soon pretend didn't exist. Of course, on those statistically rare occasions when something did go wrong, the results were usually catastrophic... and catastrophic results was one of Grif's three least favorite phrases, right up there with honest government official and mandatory tax on imported goods.

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