White Colour

Wrist is still hurting and likely will for at least another week. Lovely. At least I can type with the brace off.

Here we get a glimpse into the imperium’s ethnic policies after Colour makes the mistake of thinking the world before the Change still exists. Diversity is no one’s strength. And then Aurie says yet another startling thing.

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Spark of Colour

Wrist was hurting too much to write yesterday. Trying to make up for it now. Unfortunately, in an hour I’ve an appt to get the stitches out. If that re-traumatizes me I might have to look into something like Dragon s/w for voice-to-text. I’m horrified by the idea of not being able to tell stories.

It’s been pointed about to me that while I did okay describing Colour when she was introduced, I glossed Aurie too much. Part of that is the nature of these raw, unedited installments; to get a story out in the most bare-bones way possible. Still, I’ve seen the young-ish man Aurie is about to meet in Canso. I can use him to talk about her. Given the free-wheeling, wide-open natures of Demis, esp. in the imperium, I have certain doubts about the princess’ ability to keep her light under a bushel basket.

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Colour: White

Not going to lie, frens, but this is some of my best writing and I am very proud of it.

A salutary example of the raw power of nature is bracing for anyone. Anyone no matter how they were made. I think Aurie will be a little different after this. Interesting to see how it plays out with her men, her legates, and the Empress.

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Phased-array Colour

Another 1000-word day, even with my hand hurting. My new DOP (Director of Pharmacy) broke the news to me that it likely will for 10-14 days. Minimum. Oh, joy.

Still, I didn’t want to throw all that at everyone at once. So, I got through the mention of young Crown Princess Ildi, currently in Japan, first child of Empress Faustina’s second marriage. After that, next time, Aurie puts the pedal down, so to speak.

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Reactionless Colour

Yes, it’s short. I’m still writing. I didn’t want anyone thinking Aurie killed her friend. I mean, she’s quite capable of doing it if she thought she had a valid reason. But given how much loyalty is treasured in the imperium, Colour would have to do something like shoot one of the imperial family. If she, say, betrayed Aurie’s secrets to the Canadian government? I imagine the princess would just shrug and end their friendship.

In the next installment, I hope y’all enjoy Aurie’s reaxion when she first sees the ice with her own eyes. It’s a bit like the Grand Canyon; you can look at pictures or even go to an IMAX, but until you stand there and look at the big hole in the ground, you will not “get it.”

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Colours All Over the Map

So the vote was a “no.” But only barely. That means both sides will have to negotiate. Good. Gives me room to maneuver.

We’ll be moving into another “informal” part of the story, here. “Aurie Hardt,” indeed. What will they make of her up there in New Brunswick? Tourism is virtually unknown and even before the Change, who went to the Maritime Provinces? Fishermen?

Amazing how loose the legionary command structure is. Better for adaptivity, I suppose.

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Colour at Dusk

These next two will wrap up getting Colour Jansen up to speed on things south. I know Aurie could just use overhead imagery to see the old Boston harbor but like any good commander, she prefers personal recon.

Rainy day here, thankfully, so my honey-do list is halved and I have time to write. Daughter #1 will be down for the night from uni for a doctor’s appt tomorrow. Pondering what to make for dinner.

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Standing to the Colours

Hearing what Colour has to contribute, I admit I smiled when Aurie takes her friend’s off-hand line as a serious possibility for “urban renewal” in former Boston.

I’ll be doing some more writing today and tomorrow but Monday is my 30th anniversary and I’m helping the missus top some bushes and trees in our backyard. Thus, installments might be a little spotty over the next few days.

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Horsing Around with Colour

One hundred miles on horseback is a hard ride. I don’t recall the miles but my time record is about four hours. And that was back when I was young and fit. Colour, at fifty-two, must be made of sterner stuff.

Another relatively quiet installment as we transition away from NorFed politics to legionary life. I’m playing with ideas and making notes as to what happens their morning-after-next.

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