Wherein I introduce the Archbishop of Montreal. I think, but not yet know, that this is his own act, not that of the Canadian government. As Aurie says, the centripetal forces of Canada, noted in “Obligations of Rank,” are already tearing their country apart.
Should I be capitalizing the Y in “your Eminence?”
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Continue reading “Colours of Faith”This was a surprise. I am as curious as y’all are to know if Lefevre was sent by Ottawa, Quebec, or is acting on his own? It also implies that the Catholicism of the imperial family is common knowledge. I do see already that Aurie politely demands he and his entourage be her guests for the evening. Guess Colour is getting kicked out of her VIP tent…
I kid. I’m sure they have have several extra. Hmmm. Was Aurelia an altar server as a kid? Be funny if she, general and princess, helps with Mass. Unlike the Empress, I think Aurie would be happy to. We’ll see.
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Continue reading “Border Colours”Wherein Aurie uses a racially charged word.
With her army drawing provocatively close to the Canadian border, I’m expecting things to get complicate fast. Going into the weekend, I need to give all this some thought before returning to the story. I know for a fact I need Aurie and Colour in Nova Scotia but am at a loss right now how to get them there. I shall be patient and wait and see.
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Continue reading “Hudson Valley Colour”After a small display of how demis talk to one another, the army gets ready to move out. Not against the NorFeds. Yet.
I’m a little surprised Colour puts up with being bossed around by Aurie. Was she just bored living alone at home? I suppose she’ll tell me at some point.
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Continue reading “Standing to the Colours”Where Miss Jansen once again brushes up against the determination of the imperium to protect itself. In “A Texas Naval Affair,” I have Ryland Rigo tell her boyfriend about the empress, “never challenge her specialness. It won’t end well.” That seems true for Aurie, as well.
A quick march back and the army is ordered to move out at first light.
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Continue reading “Family Colour”Even though she is twice Aurie’s age, Colour is not a professional soldier and like many has a hard time making a distinction between “war” and “killing.” I do not think she regrets what her mother and country did to protect themselves, but I’m sure she wishes there had been another way. General Hartmann? She’s probably gaming in her head how she could have done it better.
I think I’m finished with exposition. If not politics, it’s time for Aurie to start killing people and breaking things. I mean, what else is an army for?
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Continue reading “An Invasion of Coloureds”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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Continue reading “Colour at Dusk”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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Continue reading “Standing to the Colours”Sorry for the pause. Now that this is headed for novel-hood, I cannot keep scrolling up and down to recall tertiary character names; you never know when they might get their own book. Also, I’ve begun to print regional maps and make notes of legionary and other military dispositions.
I’m guessing that Colour sees what she will be telling the general as “old information, ” and thus not classified. It is, of course, for her, but for Aurie it is the world through a human’s eyes, not some data feed into her enhanced mind. She’s old enough to value that.
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Continue reading “Seconded 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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Continue reading “Horsing Around with Colour”
machciv 