Residents of the Cutting Room (PMF 6) (Patreon)

Hi all!

With NO MAN'S LAND out in the wild now, obviously it's time to move on to the next thing. As I've said elsewhere, my focus is back in the Good Intentions region, though split: I'm working on the next steps for Evan Murphy and our LA adventure, and also for GI5. At this point, I think I have a main direction for GI5, and a prologue concept, and could maybe start writing it today... if I could work out what I want for a first chapter. :)

It'll come, of course. It happens. But dear God, is it disconcerting when I think, "What's a good hook-in opener scene for Alex & Co. at the start of this book?" and my brain offers... nothing. Almost as if I've been working on an entirely different thing for a year.

Speaking of that thing: slight spoilers for NML if you haven't read it here, although these aren't the usual type of spoilers. As with any project, NML had its edits and revisions, and some scenes or exchanges cut entirely. I thought for this month's spoiler-tier post, I might share some.

Lynette and Andrea's conversation posits that Andrea isn't holding onto anything with Tanner. My editor pointed out that might work a bit better if the conversation was less about him. I saw her point right away, but Andrea was originally more reflective:

“I haven’t thought about that in forever. He…” Andrea hesitated. Looked at Lynette. Let it out. “He was a good guy, and he’d been through hell—and I liked him. It wasn’t pity. He was the kind of guy I wished I could find when I was twenty. Maybe I leaned a little too far into that. But it was only supposed to be a fling with someone who could really use one. Then it kept going.”

“A couple months is still a fling.”

“That kind of time counts for more when you’re twenty. My age didn’t mean as much to either of us, and longevity treatments can blur an age gap… for some people, anyway. I couldn’t really commit, and never meant to. It came time to admit it,” said Andrea. “Anyway, I’m not pining after anything. It’s not why I brought him up.”

“I’m not worried,” said Lynette. “What’s on your mind?”

* * *

Tanner's always got more existential struggle to share, if anyone asks:

“You were on a colony ship?” asked Alicia. “Were you part of the colony, the ship’s crew?”

“I am,” said Glotho.

“I sense misunderstanding,” said Magenta. “Glotho, humans practice more specific roles in their society than yours or mine. Alicia is one who fights.”

“Interesting,” said Glotho. “What is Tanner?”

“I’ll let you know when I figure that out,” Tanner muttered.

* * *

Cut entirely, but I originally gave a brief window into a very bad day on the battleship Midway:

“Literal white glove, are you kidding me?”

“Garrett,” murmured Lieutenant Denny Suh.

“Sir?” the signalman whispered back.

“Shut up.”

Gurkha’s cramped bridge usually allowed the whole five-person watch to hear one another’s business. Standing at attention by the bulkhead, Denny understood Garrett and Lee’s frustrations. Commander Pelton grilled Hernandez as the duty helmsman about station traffic rules—first docking, then undocking, now nav warnings—while his fingers came up from behind the helm console with faint grey tips. Someone was in for extra duty. Maybe several someones.

At wit’s end with the skipper’s power trips, Denny finally considered dropping a line outside the chain of command. Gurkha was on security duty, not a port call. Maybe someone should know a petty destroyer captain was pulling shit like this? Denny’s eyes flicked to the viewscreens, showing the battleship Midway hovering within sight over the strange Minoan vessel.

He looked right in time to see spikes extend from the Minoan ship in pairs like fangs, with lightning crackling between them. They emerged all over, pointing toward the station and Midway and more. “Skipper, the Minoans!” Denny warned.

Blue streaks of light stabbed into Midway at three points, rupturing hull plates and detonating a defense magazine. More blasts tore into the ports covering Assembly Station’s guns, one after another in quick succession. The Minoans fired on targets in all directions, including Gurkha.

Jolted as if hit by a comet, Gurkha’s bridge plunged into darkness before Denny slammed into the bulkhead and Garrett fell against him. Emergency lighting blinked to life in time to reveal the skipper slumping to the deck, his body limp. Hernandez barely caught himself on a console. Denny looked to the boards for damage only to catch sight of several meters missing from Gurkha’s bow and the forward laser cannon along with it.

Denny lunged for the helm to jab the ES system keys himself. A second Minoan blast struck aft, setting off alarms and flashing system lights, but at least nothing exploded this time. A second glance at the captain confirmed closed eyes and a slack jaw on the floor. “General quarters,” Denny croaked, and then again with a clearer voice and his hand on the alarm. “General quarters! All hands to general quarters! Hernandez, move us!”

“Where?” asked the helmsman, nineteen years old and only a month past qualifying.

“Anywhere!”

Gurkha tilted and dove to starboard in time to avoid a third strike. Above, Assembly Station endured further hits while plates retracted and gun ports emerged. Midway answered the Minoan attack with laser batteries and even defensive guns, all firing too close to miss. The retaliation tore at least one weapon from the silvery vessel’s hull before every other weapon facing the battleship fired in unison.

The first volley tore away hull plating and ignited oxygen and gun magazines. The second volley broke Midway in half.

* * *

Janeka was a little more explicit with Roberts in the end on the Fuck Around and Find Out front:

“Ms. Wong holds rank among the present Archangel contingent,” said Janeka. “Would you like to keep fighting a losing battle, or move on with what authority you still have left, sir?”

“Captain Hadad, keep a close eye on our people,” Roberts growled before he turned away from Janeka and the dispute. That brought his attention to Dr. Liu and the aliens beside her at the control console. “I assume we have translations established? Could someone introduce us?”

“Admiral,” said Liu, “these are Logol of the Yanra, and Gereb and Agar of the Minoans. They have helped claim control of this Preserve, as they call it. They’re friends.”

“So don’t kill them,” grumbled Tanner.