Dragon Ascending Part 20: Brand New KDG Read

Happy Friday, everyone! Time for another episode of Dragon Ascending.  Last week we found out what happened to our girl, Len. This week we meet Kresho Ivanovic, who is unhappily preparing to meet with Tenad Fallon on Vodni Station. I hope you’re enjoying Dragon Ascending, the sequel to Piloting Fury, as much as I’m enjoying sharing it with you. As always, I love it when you share my work with your reading friends, so feel free. In the meantime, enjoy!

If you missed the previous episode of Dragon Ascending follow the link for a catch-up. If you wish to start from the beginning, of Dragon Ascending. Follow the link.  

For those of you who would like to read the complete novel, Piloting Fury, book one of the Sentient Ships series, follow the link to the first instalment.

Dragon Ascending: Book 2 of the Sentient Ship Series

On a desolate junkyard of a planetoid, scavenger Lenore Felik, disturbs something slumbering in a remote salvage dump and uncovers secrets of a tragic past and of the surprising role she must play in the terrifying present she now faces.

Robbed of her inheritance after her tyrannical father’s death, Tenad Fallon is out for revenge on her half-brothers, one who happens to be the sentient ship, Fury. Fury, with his human companions, Richard Manning and Diana McAllister, has his own agenda – finding the lost sentient ships and ending the scourge of indentured servitude in Authority space.



Dragon Ascending Part 20: Vodni Station

If there was one thing Kresho Ivanovic did not need, it was a fucking Fallon on Vodni Station. Unless he could have the pleasure of blowing the bastard out the airlock, and they were all literally bastards, thanks to their daddy’s predilections. The thought gave him a warm fuzzy right next to his heart. He had kept Tenad Fallon, Abriad – good riddance to a nasty shit stain – Fallon’s eldest daughter, waiting in the hall for nearly an hour while he tried to sort shipping manifests for a New Hibernian freighters off-loading whiskey and taking on a shipment of medical supplies with a destination he preferred not to know about. Not his business, and both he and his second in command, Gert, were good at keeping the logs all clean and nice-like.

Gert leaned over his shoulder now watching the ship being loaded on dock A. “How long you gonna keep the bitch waiting?” She asked in her gravelly voice that fit her scary-assed look and her equally scary-assed reputation.

“I’m hoping she shoves her way through the door and give you a chance to haul her privileged butt off to the brig for a few hours.”

Her face broke into a broad smile that looked even broader, if lopsided, with the scar at the outer edge of her upper lip stretched pale against her dark skin. “Ah Chief, you’re just too damned good to me.” She cracked her knuckles with a low chuckle, no doubt fantasizing about what she could do to the Fallon brat with a few hours alone in the brig. Hell, he’d happily pay to watch that little party. They could record it and sell it on for good credits, he’d bet. He couldn’t think of anyone who wouldn’t consider seeing a Fallon’s ass kicked fine, wholesome entertainment.

“Guards are taking bets on how long you can keep her out there before she storms the door,” Gert said. “Got the loading dock crew in on it too. Somebody’s gonna have a fat pay out.”

Kresho looked down at his PD. “Well as much as I’d like to oblige, I’ve got a load of sensitive cargo coming in from Authority space, and if she’s here to resupply, like she claims, she might just decide to confiscate the whole lot, and there goes your New Year’s bonus. I need her sorted and distracted when the Lizzie Ann unloads.”

“Shall I distract her for you?” There was another crack of her knuckles.

“Now that would warm the cockles of my heart, for sure. Sadly, I need you to deal with the cargo, and the crew. They like you for some reason.”

She shook her head. “No accounting for taste, I guess.” Then she frowned. “Maybe I’m getting soft in my old age.”

“If that ever happens, I’ll retire your ass to Outer Kingston where you can have nubile Kingsians serving you Margaritas and feeding you dates.”



She smiled at the thought. “Something to look forward to.”

He heaved himself up from his desk and cursed under his breath as though the effort caused him pain. “Time to go face the music. Sooner I get it over with, the sooner we can be rid of the Fallon dick-spurt and her souped up jaegers. I don’t want that much firepower so close to Vodni. It’s not a recipe for happy feelings among the residents.”

“Goddamnit it’s a kick in the teeth keeping everyone happy around here. I’m beginning to feel like a ball licking politician. When did we sign up for this shit?”

Kresho gave his chin a thoughtful scratch. “Got the job by default, as I recall, since neither of us is fit to live anywhere else.”

“‘Cept me. I’m fit to live on Outer Kingston with nubile Kingsians catering to my every whim.”

“Not today you’re not. You got a bonus to earn, you lazy bitch.”

Gerd’s well-muscled shoulders slumped just a little and she literally growled. “So you’re going to give daddy’s little jizz gob what she wants?”

“Nope. I’m gonna see that daddy’s little jizz gob gets what she wants as long as she pays double for it. Shit’s expensive out here,” he said with a shrug of one shoulder.

Her response was a chuckle that didn’t sound much different from her growl, and certainly no less threatening.

Outside his office, Kresho was surprised Tenad Fallon wasn’t pacing in front of the door. Anders, who had been assigned to keep a close eye on her, nodded down the hall. The woman he saw was not what Kresho had expected. She was tall, maybe as tall as he was. She could have been easily mistaken for a guard, straight back, square shoulders black coveralls unrelieved with any color or jewelry. There was no effort made to show off a figure that even the comfortably roomy coveralls did not hide. She wore her red hair clubbed back in a military style many of his female guards preferred. If she were impatient or put off by what she had to know was a blatant and deliberate slight on his part, she showed no hint of it.

It was as he drew nearer he realized she was injured. Ribs, he figured. Oh no one else would notice, she hid what had to be a great deal of pain very well, but he was always aware of body language. In his position and with his connections, it was essential. He would have felt guilty about not offering an injured person a place to sit while she waited, but then she was a Fallon. Any extra pain a Fallon had to endure did not pluck at his heartstrings even a little bit. More than likely she deserved every ache and pain, and he secretly hoped there were a lot of them.


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