Sonya Witherspoon poked her head into the moderately-sized room, expecting the office of a member of the Macedon Central Council to be some grandiose spectacle of opulence. She was only half disappointed. Ben Gentry sat behind the expensive wooden desk in his elaborate-yet-understated office.
“Sly McCormick,” the young woman growled fiercely from beneath her visor, across the dirt arena. She exhaled sharply. “I was hoping to run into you. I knew if I won enough matches, I’d eventually find you.”
‘Oh boy, another fan…’ Sylvester thought as he rubbed powder on his wooden sword hilt. Looking up to his competitor, he queried, “To whom do I owe the honor this round?”
When a ship lost in space landed on an inhospitable jungle planet, the human colonists aboard did what they set out to: start a civilization. Shortly after unloading the functional pieces of the Dorchester, maps were drawn, territories lain out,
“Oh, hello there, stranger. Please, come in. Have a seat,” the aged man welcomes you from behind his polished wooden desk. Though he holds a warm smile, the sorrow of politics darken his eyes. “You have a face I don’t recognize. I’ve asked my