COMMANDER THADDEUS KASPAR - Stubborn, cocky, rugged,
divorced 40ish pilot of the Abagail. Very courageous, a battler, won’t
leave any man behind
EXCERPT
“Mr. Blakely?” Thaddeus’s Russian accent was very thick, but
Adrian had no trouble understanding it. .
“Are you sure you and your friend aren’t enjoying fine American
drink and women at the local bar down the street?” Adrian coolly
accessed the weather page that linked him to every possible country
in the world. He needed the highly evolved laptop to prepare his
shipments for delivery across the globe. He scanned the data with
a sharp eye. Russia was underneath the heavy fist of a damaging
snowstorm. Kaspar was indeed telling the truth; a major snowstorm
had crippled Russia’s main airports and roadways. Travel was at a
standstill.
“How late will you be?” Adrian asked.
“I will be landing at J.F.K. in under an hour.”
“I will send someone to pick you up.”
“I’m brining Dr. Philene Fanchon with me, as well.”
“Really?”
“Dumb luck, as you American’s would say. We ran into each
other and Ulysses starting talking to her.”
“Explain.”
“She was at a science convention of some sort here at one of
our highly regarded museums,” Kaspar replied.”I am not really into
that sort of thing, but Ulysses tends to be. He enjoys keeping a pulse
on the science conventions and the like.”
“Enough about your personal life, I need the three of you here
as soon as possible.” Adrian flipped the cell phone closed without
waiting for a reply.
6.23.2009
Adrian Blakely
ADRIAN BLAKELY - A shadowy billionaire. Egocentric. Without
his money and technology, Earth would be doomed. Late 40’s, failing
health due to a rare genetic disease. Does not care about crossing the
line between good/evil to gain what he seeks.
EXCERPT:
Adrian Blakely walked around his large office, intermittently
gazing out of the deluxe sized window, and staring down at the
people scattered across the courtyard below.
A sharp dressed man, he had a taste for only the best in life.
Like moths drawn to the proverbial flame. His thoughts randomly
skipped about inside his cramped brain.
He was always a step ahead of the masses. It was through his
complete control of modern technological advances that the general
public survived. Adrian was a very intelligent man, using his wits
and fortune to build and monopolize the corner on manufacturing.
His business was the sole distributor of steel, metal, building
supplies, pharmaceuticals, and anything else one could think of in
the manufacturing industry. His vast fortune led Adrian into a fancy
lifestyle that included fast cars, boats, and luxurious homes spread
throughout North America. Even his diamond cuff links were culled
from the finest stones, and his suits supplied by top-notch tailors.
His unlimited cash flow had helped recharge NASA’s dying space
exploration program. The newest ships, Europa’s colonization, and
the brand new space station all came from Adrian’s deep pockets.
NASA owed their recovery to Adrian Blakely.
A self-made billionaire, at forty-three he had serious health
concerns of late that had sidetracked his latest project. But now, as all
the pieces started to come together, Adrian wanted to make a legacy
for his name, beyond the corporate world. Adrian had decided not
only to finance the president’s Europa colonization campaign, but
also spearhead the construction of a series of mammoth spaceships
that would transport the president’s handpicked men and women to
the planet’s frozen moon.
Adrian had garnered a close relationship with President Forsythe.
Not only on a business spectrum, since Adrian’s companies supplied
the world with 3/8 of their needs, but also as a personal friend.
Adrian heard his telecom jingling, which meant he had an
incoming call. Adrian had canceled all his planned meetings for the
day to work on a personal project. Walking slowly, he finally took
refuge in the leather chair and pressed the button to see who was
calling. President Forsythe’s haggard face stared back at him.
“Adrian? How are you today?” the president asked.
“Jackson.”
“You’re looking a bit tired,” Forsythe observed.
“It must be the camera,” Adrian snorted.”It’s probably dusty.”
“Yeah, it could be. I thought you had the best of the best over
there?”
“You didn’t just call me for chit-chat, did you?” Adrian could
read his old friend like a book.
“How’s our girl Abagail doing?”
“She’s doing well. Almost ready for her big trip.”
“We’re going to have to move the trip up. My contact in
Yellowstone has indicated that the volcano could be ready to erupt
very soon.”
“Not a problem.”
“I have a favor to ask of you, Adrian.” Forsythe lowered those
normally unwavering eyes and looked at his hands. Nolan knew
something was up.
“Name it.”
“I’m emailing over a list to you.”
“Of..?”
“Names.”
“What for?” Adrian adjusted his thin wired frames, studying the
man in the screen.
“I want you to personally recruit these people for your trip.”
“I only take my own.” Adrian replied angrily.
“I’m the president, and this is the list I’ve prepared.”
“It’s my ship, Jackie,” Adrian snapped.”This is my dance.”
“I asked you to build a ship for me, not to fly it. That’s what
pilots are for.”
“You’re being a prick, sir.”
“Just do this for me, Adrian. These are hard-working people.
I will need the best on that spaceship if we are to make this trip a
success.”
“Yeah, yeah. I understand. I’m ready for the list.”
“Good. I’m sending it now.”
“Thank you for letting me in on this,” Adrian said.
“Ever since your dishonorable discharge from the war, your
dream of serving as an astronaut became a moot point.”
“Do you have to remind me?”
“Every day.”
“That’s what friends are for?” Adrian glanced around the
room.”I’m excited about this trip. I’ve made Abby the best of her
fleet.””According to NASA, it will take eight years to reach Europa.”
Forsythe’s eyes rolled, his face shifting inside the screen.
Adrian’s face twisted with a wily grin.”I’ve added a personal
touch that should cut that time in half.”
“How?”
“Let’s say I have the best engineers working for me,” Adrian
responded coolly.”I have some parlor tricks up my sleeve.”
“Interesting,” Forsythe acknowledged.”I’m looking at week’s
end for departure.”
“I’m on it. I’ll take my jet.”
“That’s it; woo them with your fame and fortune.”
“Is there any other way?” Adrian knew his ego ruled him, but
considered that to be his greatest asset.”My dashing good looks
should also sway them to join the cause.”
“You’re a character in every sense of the word.” Forsythe’s
picture started to fade to black.”I will contact you after my State of
Union address.”
“I’m sure you will.” Adrian clicked open the attachment Forsythe
sent him and poured over the contents.
Adrian sat back to think through his next plan of action.
his money and technology, Earth would be doomed. Late 40’s, failing
health due to a rare genetic disease. Does not care about crossing the
line between good/evil to gain what he seeks.
EXCERPT:
Adrian Blakely walked around his large office, intermittently
gazing out of the deluxe sized window, and staring down at the
people scattered across the courtyard below.
A sharp dressed man, he had a taste for only the best in life.
Like moths drawn to the proverbial flame. His thoughts randomly
skipped about inside his cramped brain.
He was always a step ahead of the masses. It was through his
complete control of modern technological advances that the general
public survived. Adrian was a very intelligent man, using his wits
and fortune to build and monopolize the corner on manufacturing.
His business was the sole distributor of steel, metal, building
supplies, pharmaceuticals, and anything else one could think of in
the manufacturing industry. His vast fortune led Adrian into a fancy
lifestyle that included fast cars, boats, and luxurious homes spread
throughout North America. Even his diamond cuff links were culled
from the finest stones, and his suits supplied by top-notch tailors.
His unlimited cash flow had helped recharge NASA’s dying space
exploration program. The newest ships, Europa’s colonization, and
the brand new space station all came from Adrian’s deep pockets.
NASA owed their recovery to Adrian Blakely.
A self-made billionaire, at forty-three he had serious health
concerns of late that had sidetracked his latest project. But now, as all
the pieces started to come together, Adrian wanted to make a legacy
for his name, beyond the corporate world. Adrian had decided not
only to finance the president’s Europa colonization campaign, but
also spearhead the construction of a series of mammoth spaceships
that would transport the president’s handpicked men and women to
the planet’s frozen moon.
Adrian had garnered a close relationship with President Forsythe.
Not only on a business spectrum, since Adrian’s companies supplied
the world with 3/8 of their needs, but also as a personal friend.
Adrian heard his telecom jingling, which meant he had an
incoming call. Adrian had canceled all his planned meetings for the
day to work on a personal project. Walking slowly, he finally took
refuge in the leather chair and pressed the button to see who was
calling. President Forsythe’s haggard face stared back at him.
“Adrian? How are you today?” the president asked.
“Jackson.”
“You’re looking a bit tired,” Forsythe observed.
“It must be the camera,” Adrian snorted.”It’s probably dusty.”
“Yeah, it could be. I thought you had the best of the best over
there?”
“You didn’t just call me for chit-chat, did you?” Adrian could
read his old friend like a book.
“How’s our girl Abagail doing?”
“She’s doing well. Almost ready for her big trip.”
“We’re going to have to move the trip up. My contact in
Yellowstone has indicated that the volcano could be ready to erupt
very soon.”
“Not a problem.”
“I have a favor to ask of you, Adrian.” Forsythe lowered those
normally unwavering eyes and looked at his hands. Nolan knew
something was up.
“Name it.”
“I’m emailing over a list to you.”
“Of..?”
“Names.”
“What for?” Adrian adjusted his thin wired frames, studying the
man in the screen.
“I want you to personally recruit these people for your trip.”
“I only take my own.” Adrian replied angrily.
“I’m the president, and this is the list I’ve prepared.”
“It’s my ship, Jackie,” Adrian snapped.”This is my dance.”
“I asked you to build a ship for me, not to fly it. That’s what
pilots are for.”
“You’re being a prick, sir.”
“Just do this for me, Adrian. These are hard-working people.
I will need the best on that spaceship if we are to make this trip a
success.”
“Yeah, yeah. I understand. I’m ready for the list.”
“Good. I’m sending it now.”
“Thank you for letting me in on this,” Adrian said.
“Ever since your dishonorable discharge from the war, your
dream of serving as an astronaut became a moot point.”
“Do you have to remind me?”
“Every day.”
“That’s what friends are for?” Adrian glanced around the
room.”I’m excited about this trip. I’ve made Abby the best of her
fleet.””According to NASA, it will take eight years to reach Europa.”
Forsythe’s eyes rolled, his face shifting inside the screen.
Adrian’s face twisted with a wily grin.”I’ve added a personal
touch that should cut that time in half.”
“How?”
“Let’s say I have the best engineers working for me,” Adrian
responded coolly.”I have some parlor tricks up my sleeve.”
“Interesting,” Forsythe acknowledged.”I’m looking at week’s
end for departure.”
“I’m on it. I’ll take my jet.”
“That’s it; woo them with your fame and fortune.”
“Is there any other way?” Adrian knew his ego ruled him, but
considered that to be his greatest asset.”My dashing good looks
should also sway them to join the cause.”
“You’re a character in every sense of the word.” Forsythe’s
picture started to fade to black.”I will contact you after my State of
Union address.”
“I’m sure you will.” Adrian clicked open the attachment Forsythe
sent him and poured over the contents.
Adrian sat back to think through his next plan of action.
Dwight "Bud" Stephens
SERGEANT DWIGHT “BUD” STEPHENS- Marine Sergeant,
mid 60’s, silver hair, rugged face, a born leader, leading military
officer of Athena’s crew.
EXCERPT:
Nolan Drake took the ticket and tapped it against the arm rest
of the wheelchair while he peered down at the video player. His ran
his fingernails across the sleek screen, prompting the video to begin
playing.
A man’s grizzled image surfaced with refined clarity. Nolan
immediately recognized the aging hero. Sergeant Stephens walked
across the underground facility somewhere in the southern
hemisphere. Nolan guessed it was the South Pole based on his
previous conversation with Senator Perry. “We are preparing the
Apollo for her maiden voyage,” Stephen’s stern, yet friendly voice
began the introduction. “We are about to embark on a mission to
save civilization on orders from the President himself. I am one
of the commanding officers on the ship, and our ship’s manifest
is swelling with engineers, teachers, doctors, scientists, and their
families, along with several military and NASA personnel.”
Nolan traced his fingernail over the screen fast-forwarding the
speech to the end.
Chatter in the background distracted Stephens for a brief
moment. “For those of you who have perished in Yellowstone’s
wake, we offer a moment of silence,” he paused, “for those of
you lucky enough to have the last ticket to New Earth, I offer you
Godspeed and safe travels.”
Nolan glanced down at the ticket:
The Athena
Departure: January 2, 7 pm
Arturo Pratt Naval Base, Antarctica
Destination: New Earth
mid 60’s, silver hair, rugged face, a born leader, leading military
officer of Athena’s crew.
EXCERPT:
Nolan Drake took the ticket and tapped it against the arm rest
of the wheelchair while he peered down at the video player. His ran
his fingernails across the sleek screen, prompting the video to begin
playing.
A man’s grizzled image surfaced with refined clarity. Nolan
immediately recognized the aging hero. Sergeant Stephens walked
across the underground facility somewhere in the southern
hemisphere. Nolan guessed it was the South Pole based on his
previous conversation with Senator Perry. “We are preparing the
Apollo for her maiden voyage,” Stephen’s stern, yet friendly voice
began the introduction. “We are about to embark on a mission to
save civilization on orders from the President himself. I am one
of the commanding officers on the ship, and our ship’s manifest
is swelling with engineers, teachers, doctors, scientists, and their
families, along with several military and NASA personnel.”
Nolan traced his fingernail over the screen fast-forwarding the
speech to the end.
Chatter in the background distracted Stephens for a brief
moment. “For those of you who have perished in Yellowstone’s
wake, we offer a moment of silence,” he paused, “for those of
you lucky enough to have the last ticket to New Earth, I offer you
Godspeed and safe travels.”
Nolan glanced down at the ticket:
The Athena
Departure: January 2, 7 pm
Arturo Pratt Naval Base, Antarctica
Destination: New Earth
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
