Mesrin Station

By L L Watkin

Eben had lost crew before. They skipped out at any space port, in search of fame and fortune. Normally they were easily replaced by people skipping out on other captains, but Jan was different. He was smarter, wiser and holding on to some of the most valuable merchandise Eben had ever managed to steal. He wouldn’t run. He was, however, definitely missing and getting him back was not going to be easy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: L L Watkin
• Release date: Feb 21, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311397584

L L Watkin

LL Watkin is the pen name for writing partnership Liz Smith and Louise Smith, two sisters from the North of England who've been writing together since, well, forever. We write a mixture of short stories and full length novels in the science fiction and fantasy genres, and while some stories may be more Louise's and others more Liz's, all spring from a collaborative process.In summer 2022 we will publish our new four part novel series, The Snowglobe, which is a double-stranded narrative set in a multi-dimensional universe. It concerns a criminal investigation by Divine Law Enforcement (DLE), which aims to locate and arrest a psychotic demi-god, Kaelvan, who is determined to murder a specific human child. Although the plot includes fantastical elements, most often ESP and telekinesis, the settings are all post-industrial societies, some of them more technologically advanced than our own and others steam-punk in feel.

Book preview

Mesrin Station

By L L Watkin

Published by L. L. Watkin at Smashwords

Copyright 2014 L. L. Watkin

Mesrin architecture was old fashioned in its standards so behind the heavy metal bulwark with its dependable wheel lock was a wood effect door complete with a tidy brass handle. Mesrins liked more privacy than automatic portals could provide, and a lot more warning. Eben scowled as he balled a fist and knocked firmly. He’d been on the station three hours and already his knuckles were sore from the stupid custom.

Come. The answer was prompt and business-like, putting Eben’s mind at rest. He depressed the awkward handle and pushed clumsily into the large office. It was a cubical room, another Mesrin eccentricity, and the superfluous space above his head was filled with blue tasselled sails in cream and gold. A fall back on the not so distant sea faring days, or so he’d been told.

Behind the wide, formal desk sat the man himself. Archon Vanden, the bursar of the station. Not the commander, though a stranger might be forgiven for letting the uniform-like tunic and its gold braid epaulettes fool him into thinking so. The bursar was a Mesrin Puritan and fancied himself a Napoleonic officer in another life, but there was no direct military power at play here. Of course, the fleet didn’t run without a budget and supplies...

Ah, Captain Tolston. Vanden greeted politely. Eben took the skin covered chair he was offered and didn’t correct his host. The difference between owner and captain was slight in his case anyway, and the idea of rank might be