Now. I have returned from my slumber that has lasted from August 21st till now. Miss me? I thought so.

Well, my birthday is in 8 days, and I STILL don't have a costume for my party. Going on....

I have a present for you all....
The 'sneak peak' of the first chapter of my new book
which i have not been dissuaded to make because of my sampler's failure
....please leave comments, thank you.

//////: The 300 Years War
//////: By Kyle Farester aka SyXxlunatic, your favorite Mad Hatter


///: Terran year: 2407
///: Location: Itil System
///: Planet: Bokr-Trecera
///: Affiliation: Confederation of Humanity

I stood there and listened to the man preaching on the corner of the street. He wore dark-blue robes which would appear to have been made of a very uncomfortable material. How he could bear to wear that garb was the only question going on in my mind.
Looking around, I see there were about three-dozen or so people huddles around and listening to the preacher, the crowd making a semi-circle. Idioten.
Why they were listening to a madman's ramblings, I would never know.
Pushing my way out of the middle of the mob, I make my way over to the other sidewalk. Which, by the way, looked wonderfully clean of any mass groupings of citizens.
On my way, I checked my watch to check what time it was. 7:17pm, not good. I was supposed to be back at the armory at 7:10. Fluch! My steady pace turns into a mad dash. I round a corner. Take a left. Another left. Then a right. Soon I turn in so many different directions that I lose track of left, right, up, down, and sideways.
Ah hah! I spot the ConFed armory up ahead. Now lets see if I can sneak in without getting caught.
The front entrance would never work, the two soldiers standing by the doors would, most likely (unless they had been drinking some of Dinnuy's special homemade brew) see me.
I walk back a block to get to the alley. The streets behind me were getting busier. People trying to hurry home in their cars before rush hour. Saugt, um sie zu sein.
Sionora suckers. Trotting down the alley I told you about not too long ago. I made my way to the back entrance of the armory. It was just a simple door with one of those clearance card-swiping stations that people love all-too much.
Reaching for my right chest pocket, I get my card out. Ok, that was simple enough, didn't get caught or anything.
I think I'll go and get myself some of that Irommain's famous grilled chicken in the mess hall for dinne-- ugh!
A hand closed over my mouth while my card hand was pulled behind my back, and as that was happening, I am pushed into a wall. Just my luck.
"So what's a ConFed soldier doing going in the back entrance so late?" my ambusher asks me.
"I-I-I uh-" I stammered.
"You 'uh' what?" the man asks again.
"I-uh, would like to know why you are assaulting a soldier," I replied.
"Thought you could use a hand,” Laughs the guy pinning me, while releasing his grip.
I recognized that laugh anywhere. As I turned around, my suspicions were confirmed.
Behind me was the man named Treyt Retriuo, whom I called my best friend/pal/person/etc. I laughed with him.
"What was that?" I ask him after our laugh was over.
He points at my card and says, "If you would've swiped that thing, the computer on the top floor would've saw that it was you, and would then proceed to tell the chief that you are, as of this moment, twelve minutes late." He finished with that as-a-matter-of-fact look on his face. "Let me get that, boss won't chew my arse off if I get here late, Brenan" he said while taking out his piece of plastic and walking over to the swiper. When he finished slicing the clearence code, Treyt opened the door and made the 'after you, your highness' gesture.
I bowed and walked into the warm hallway. The usual smell of grease and leather greeted me as I did so. Treyt closes the door behind us, and we continue to the barracks.
"So," he says.
"So...what?" I says.
"So, don't I get a, 'Thank you, Treyt', or a 'Thanks a lot buddy, you really saved my arse back there'?" he asks with puppy dog eyes.
"No," I state in a neutral attitude, not falling for his act of creepy-and-cute innocence.
"And why's that?"
"Because, the way I see it, you still owe me one-hundred and one more saves before I say the letters 't-h-a-n-k' and 'y-o-u' in the stated order and sequence after you shot me in the arse during that training exercise with live ammo," I replied.
"Dude, haven't you got over that damn thing already? That was nine months ago."
"I couldn't sit on anything harder than a marshmallow for five of those nine months you Arscholch!" I angrily retorted.
"Brenan, you're looking at it in a pessimistic way," Treyt stated as we rounded a corner into the corridor that lead to the barracks, and my sweet, comfortable bed. ", you should be thinking of the 4 of the nine months that you could sit on something harder than a marshmallow." he said with a big grin.
"Cheeky bastard" I also grinned.
"Takes one to know one"
"Bitch"
"Now you’re just getting mean" he laughed.
"Keep it up and I'll give you mean" I said as we entered the giant room in which four-hundred ConFed soldiers slept and conversed in. The barracks. Home not-so-sweet home.
We walked to our bunk bed. I, with my smaller physique, slept on the top bunk. While Treyt, with his physique that on first impression, you'd think that he would eat you and use your bones to pick the meat out of the gaps between his teeth, slept on the bottom.
I took off my jacket and placed it in my footlocker under the left side of the bottom bunk. My big buddy did the same and placed his coat in his locker at the opposite end of the bunk.
"So which two poor saps got the 'Standing' at the entrance?" I asked. The 'Standing' was the soldier-given name of the punishment of having to 'guard' the entrance of the armory for 5 hours without a break.
"Jaek and Rimmon," he answered ", they got caught lounging in the chief's quarters while they thought he was out at the capital."
"Idiots, everyone knows that when the chief goes to the capital, he takes his modified hovercraft." Of which the hover-pad was located in plain sight if you took the time to look out the windows on the right wall of the barracks.
"Yeah well, no one told them"
"Did Dinnuy make any of his liquor yet?" I questioned Treyt.
"Not yet, he's having trouble finding people to help him swipe the ingrediants from the kitchen." He replied.
"Think we could help him?" I lifted an eyebrow, the grin on my face getting wider.
Retriuo looked at me up and down and said, "Are you wasted, man!?"
I laughed again, "Possibly." I got up and started to walk towards Dinnuy Jackson's bunk.