I met my first Thunderbird on Sunnydale back when we were assembling the fleets for the big push into the Hyades Cluster. I didn’t know word one about them at the time. I’d been born long after that Contact, and there’d never been much news about them after the initial reports. Almost like someone quieted the news or something. But what do I know? I’m just a starfighter pilot. Point is, if I’d ever known they existed, I’d forgotten about them by then. So them coming out of hyperspace with their big old ship that matched nothing in Betty’s database while me and her were on a quiet little patrol on the edge of the system was…let’s just say a surprise. Then the face of an overgrown bird appeared on my displays and started squawking away. Did I fail to mention that the Thunderbirds can’t speak any human language? Yeah.
One of the things we learned very soon after Contact was that the long-dead Albion were industrious little gengineers. It was the reason they were dead, after all. The Ennead had taken exception to their perversions against Mother Nature, or whatever they called her, and devoted their existence to destroying the Albion. And the last order the Albion gave their assorted creations was to kill the Ennead. The death of both races left the Albion’s creations without an enemy and without a master. Most of them found whatever homes they could locate and retired to live out the rest of their lives. Two millennia later, we have made Contact with many of them. And if there is one thing we have learned about the Albion from their creations, it is that they were supremely imaginative in their own way.
The events of this weekend remind me why, when I first wrote Jack of Harts, I had things get worse before things got better.
There are generations of people out there who have been taught that others are less human than they are. That others have less rights to speak for thinking the wrong thoughts. That others can be driven out of business for being the wrong religion. That others can be evicted from our schools for being the wrong skin color. That others can be killed for not being like they are.
I grew up watching Star Trek, where mankind had grown beyond those petty disagreements. It was a hopeful message for mankind, a world where we did most things right and built a world we would want to live in.
The events of this weekend remind me that there are those on this planet who do not wish to share it with people who are different than they are. We must defend ourselves from them. We must stop them. We must stand against them. We must drive them from our communities, because they will drive us from ours if we let them. We must, in the end, be willing to fight them.
If we do this well, if we do most things right, we will create that magical world that Jesus, Roddenberry, and Mister Rogers would approve of. I believe that is our future. But as this weekend proves, we have a long way to go before we get there.
Virginia Adams was one of the first Ageless to come out of the original Peloran Treatments. She was a teenager at the time, and still wore the body of a teenager a century later when the Shang came for us. She was older in mind, of course, but many people did not see that on first meeting. Let me assure you that “Ginny” was impressive at using that to her advantage by going places where teenagers could pass without notice while adults would be stopped on sight. She was serving in the Marine Corps Reserve on New Earth when my Cowboys arrived the first time. We had taken heavy casualties against the Shang and their Chinese allies, and we needed new blood to expand our numbers. She volunteered and I have never regretted my decision to accept her.
Abigail’s status as one of the few fully functioning AIs before Contact was instrumental in gaining access to Peloran cooperation and technologies. The Peloran cybernetic families recognized that the Adams Family treated her as a family member rather than an employee or a possession. That was real important. Virginia Adams and her Abbi ended up joining the Marine Corps Reserve together, and spent the next century enticing other recruits. Their off-duty escapades and parties were particularly legendary, and I’m not joking. They made the news. Interstellar news. I might have attended some in my time. I never met a good party I didn’t like, you know. I met them again on New Earth after The War began. The Cowboys needed new pilots, and they were ready to step up. I’ve never regretted having them on the team. They’re good people.


Forge of War on Amazon
Angel Flight on Amazon
Angel Strike on Amazon
Angel War on Amazon
Wolfenheim Rising on Amazon
Wolfenheim Emergent on Amazon