Uma historinha que publiquei agora no Starcraft.org e está esperando autorização. Como eles sumiram com todas minhas histórias anteriores e eu não quero mais perder meus patéticos mas sofridos esforços literários, deixo registrado aqui:

The Nexus Grave

Two more to go, and then it's jump ahead. There were enough distractions up to now. I wish to trade, not to fight. Smashing bugs is a perfect way to lose the sense of beauty of space. But then again, the lasers look cool, blue against the stars, poking holes in the bug's carapaces, leaving a trail of vapor in the atmosphere. Two dead bugs, way to go. There's fleet of Wraiths not much far east from here, but who cares, I'm more into my Dragon ship from Kusari.

I've arrived to a station, in search of commodities. Nice people moving arround, and I love Liberty girls. Here it goes, some boron to sell in the Magellan, back to space. I'll register my name, it's a new station, and I aint sure wether it should go luostari@liberty.com or rikasluostari@liberty.com. rikas@liberty.com is taken, damnit. I'll pick rikasluostari, and then be raw about not having taken luostari instead. Damnit, need some cardamine, I'm getting too strange.

Some jokers make fun of my Hispania accent. Damnit them all Libertarians. Damnit Bretonians too. Guess I'm missing Kusari already. I'm from the border, have something of Kusari in myself. I hide in this Dragon ship and think of myself as some sort of weird rogue ronin. Yeah, a rogue rogue samurai, whatever. Here it comes. More bugs. More lasers. More bombs. More bug vapor. Eek, that sure must stink. I wouldn't know, never faced them from close range to have any olfatorial contact with the beasts.

Now it's some days I'm in cruise starflight, nothing new. And I do that for many years. Till I get very old, and am fortunate enough to have my heart fail, and not some other eek way to buy a farm. I was near the Nexus planet, they've dumped me in orbit around the Nexus.