bitter tales from the galaxy

Kinley Pryse sat sideways in the pilot's chair, boots braced against the console, the hum of the ship's systems filling the quiet like a heartbeat. The cockpit lights were low, just enough to paint everything in soft amber and shadow. She hadn't bothered to clean the blood off her knuckles yet...

Pari Sylune moved through the healing wing of the Shiraya Sanctuary with the quiet purpose of someone who had learned that urgency did not need to be loud. The halls were always full now, with stretchers lining the curved walls, low voices murmuring in pain or prayer, the soft hum of medical...

I have been roleplaying for eighteen years - nineteen in February. My very first character was Katarine Ryiah, and throughout this long writing life she has been a source of constant, aching tension. From the very beginning, I didn't love her story, but I loved her, so I kept her. And as I have...

Flint wasn't the kind of Devaronian who raised his voice, he didn't need to. His anger radiated like heat off starship hull plating, filling the backroom of the Cantonica skyrail depot until the very air felt poisonous. Kinley Pryse would've spat a joke if she'd had enough breath to shape one...

Kinley Pryse stepped into the care wing of the nursing complex on Ord Mantell, where the walls hummed with the quiet efficiency of med-droids and recycled air. The lighting was soft, but sterile. Too clean, too quiet. She hated the smell of it, antiseptic and endings. She was without her hat...