Christina Engela

Imagine, if you will: Meradinis! The stuff of myths and legends! The Turtle Island of the stars – home planet to the fearsome and once legendary Corsairs – the terrors of the black, the monsters in Human form who killed innocents and waged a campaign of terror against the colonies for decades! Meradinis! The reputation of that place – that terrible place, a place of death and destruction that beckoned to adventurers, killers, profiteers and fortune seekers! Meradinis… The very name of this world grabbed the imaginations of young boys and girls, and universally mesmerized dreamers and romantics alike.

Imagine, if you will: The Ruminarii Hammerhead was so named because of its peculiar hull shape. Being the main warship of the warlike Ruminarii, they were as much feared as hated. (The current advice in general circulation would be ‘if you see one, look for a hole – crawl into it and then pull it in after you.’) A hammerhead is about a kilometer long and is a dark shiny black, as black as space and – as some whisper, as dark as the souls of the Ruminarii themselves. As you may follow, they are an extremely hostile species (i.e. there is no word for ‘welcome’ in the Ruminarii language.) In four short centuries they had managed to lay waste to almost a thousand star systems, enslaving their populations and stripping them of all they wanted.

Imagine, if you will: A bright yellow star lit the darkness somewhere in deep space, accompanied by its rather dysfunctional family of nine deceptively ordinary-looking planets. During its enormously long lifetime many beings had named it from the far ends of distant telescopes, including it into numerous star clusters and constellations as they were perceived from their vantage points. Once, or maybe twice, creatures simply looked up into their own skies to name it from their own now long dead and deserted worlds. In more recent times, beings from a world that orbited a different sun far away gave it a name too – creatures that called themselves Human, who travelled here and settled on one of its inner planets. The planet they chose to make a new home on? They called that Deanna. They called the star Ramalama.

Imagine, if you will: The battle cruiser was lost. In the desolation of the vastness of space, all was silent. All, that is, except for the screaming. Then that too fell mercifully silent. Captain Armon Kaine was the last of his crew that had survived – or at least, if any others were still alive, he was unaware of them. It didn’t seem likely, given the circumstances. Somehow that… thing had managed to kill every one of his crew within the space of only a few days! All had died horribly – mangled and mauled to death!

Honestly, Gary didn’t know what to say to Jenny Grauffis! What was he supposed to say? That she shouldn’t cry because she would get to see her sister again? That Danielle might survive this terror, and one day come home? He knew that would be a lie. Nobody survives things like that intact and gets to go home again. This was the part that Scrooby had told him was going to be so hard!

Imagine if you will: Somewhere in the depths of space a somewhat ordinary, boring-looking medium-sized yellow star cast weird-looking shadow-puppets across the dark interstellar wastes that currently belonged to the Terran Empire. Nine planets spun around it in suitably eccentric orbits – tiny slivers of matter that had rolled up into little balls and wished the rest of the universe would just bugger off and stop staring. When the Humans arrived here they settled on one of them and (in polite company) called it Home. Since it was a frontier world where roughing it was a way of life, there was very little at all to laugh at. So one bright su – um, day, they called the star Ramalama – and named the two tiny moons of their new home Ding and Dong. (This is something of a local joke.) Since that time, the Terran colony known as Deanna flourished and prospered to become the bustling third rate world it was today, which in case anyone is wondering, was a bright February morning in the distant future.

"A flag is all the proof you will ever need that any government is up the pole." - Christina Engela.

Just think about it. As frontiers go, this is probably the most final of them all, not because it may be the last frontier, but because as long as we try to cross it and explore it, we take it with us. No matter how far we go, the frontier will always be just that much ahead of us, tantalizing our curiosities. Thus, we can never really cross it in so far as just push it back a little. The universe is so vast, so immense, we can never expect to explore it all. It is in effect, not so much a final frontier as an ultimate frontier; the ultimate frontier – as wide as it is deep. Stars shine coldly in the unimaginable blackness. Out of the darkness, a tiny speck caught the distant light of stars – a tiny gray speck that, as it moved, seemed to grow larger, catching the light just so until it revealed itself to be a ship. Mykl d’Angelo groaned where he sat slumped in his chair. The irritating noise was unsettling his pet dog lying on his lap. The wickerwork garden chair creaked pleasantly under him and some native Earth birds made pleasant sounds above while the cool wind wafted over him as he lazily … Wait-a-minute!

Imagine if you will: At the highly secretive, largely independent, inter-dimensional and (inevitably) clandestine organization called the Time Saving Agency, there is a saying that goes: ‘You can’t break an omelet without first making eggs’. While this may appear to be a rather flippant little idiom, there is – as is usually the case, far more to it than meets the eye. For starters, that’s a rather simple principle of Time Travel right there – and according to the pioneers of time travel, it’s one of the foundation stones of the Theory behind it. It’s something of a paradox – a mind-boggling annotation in the ever-puzzling and ever growing Anals of History. (Some readers may still be thinking that should be ‘Annals’ – however, the author of this work cannot be blamed for what you may think.)

"Why? I know it's not that you actually care about me. Then why? Tell me." I demanded looking down. "Be MINE, Caroline" he said. I always loved the way my name rolled on his tongue. I saw him coming towards me as I took small steps backwards until my back hit the wall. I could see his face getting closer to mine to reach my lips. Caroline Brook is the daughter of a wealthy business man. She has it all, looks, beauty, intelligence, money-of course! She's a true believer of LOVE. She lived a carefree life until a tragedy strikes hard. Daniel Rochester is one of the richest business man in New York City. He's the perfect definition for a Casanova. He never was a relationship kind of guy. And he rather chose to believe in one night stands. What happens when circumstances make these completely opposite people meet? Is there going to be an explosion of volcano of hatred or rain of love? Are they gonna make it together till the end?

Just a few weeks before my wedding to Hudson, his ex-girlfriend moved in next door to us. She constantly made a huge deal out of the fact that her father had sacrificed his life to save Hudson, and even destroyed my wedding dress, yet Hudson just stood by and comforted her. Just as I secretly found out I was pregnant, he publicly announced that he was going to hold a "fake wedding" with her, claiming it was for her psychological therapy. This news quickly went viral online, sparking the fury of netizens who even ganged up to attack me, causing me to fall to the ground and bleed heavily. I lost our child, and the doctor told me that my hopes of ever becoming a mother again were almost completely destroyed. As I lay in the hospital bed, my heart completely dead inside, Hudson appeared in the ward. "Please understand why I have to hold this fake wedding for her." He begged me to support his fake wedding, and my heart was thoroughly shattered. After he left, I immediately packed my bags, contacted the wedding venue, and changed the groom's name to the man who had always stood by me through thick and thin. When he found out about this, he actually went crazy trying to win me back at all costs!

When I was eight months pregnant, I collapsed suddenly from a severe pregnancy complication. In the hospital, my husband, Easton, refused to approve my emergency C-section. Standing beside my bleeding body with his mistress, Colette, he held a postnuptial agreement in his hand. He forced me to give up all our assets and take on Colette's massive debts. He even called the police and falsely accused me of stealing a fake luxury watch, trying to stop me from paying for my own medical care. "Sign it, and you get the surgery. Otherwise, don't expect to live." Because of his delay, my baby's heartbeat stopped. I completely broke down, grieving the child he had killed. He thought he had won. He thought I was a housewife he could manipulate however he pleased. But he forgot — I was the Chief Financial Officer who helped him build his entire corporate empire. And I had evidence of every single one of his financial crimes.

In order of priority, For Jayda Wright, her work comes first, She comes second, her best friend and family comes third and then her so-called boyfriend comes fourth. She didn't know she was losing her boyfriend at the expense of putting her job first. He finally broke up with her the day she got promoted as a partner in a reputable law firm. That night, Jayda made her way to a bar where she met Sebastian Miller, The multimillionaire with the worst personality but incredibly sexy. She had a one night stand with him, creating a bond that binds them forever!

For years, I endured my husband Kellan's disdain, while he bent over backwards to please my scheming younger sister. When a sudden aneurysm required emergency life-saving surgery, I called him from the ER in absolute despair. He was busy celebrating my sister's new job. After listening to the lies she whispered about me in the background, he actually cursed at me. "If you're going to put on this act, don't bother coming home." He hung up the phone. I signed the surgery consent form alone, facing life and death all by myself. On the operating table, I hemorrhaged heavily. Not only did I lose my health, but I also lost the unborn little life I hadn't even had the chance to tell him about. Lying in the recovery room, I finally understood. His vows were nothing but empty lies, and I was always the expendable one in that relationship. And so, I signed the divorce papers and vanished from his life completely. Yet, he started looking for me like a madman, even taking revenge on everyone who had ever hurt me!

For five years, I gave everything I had, using my blood to build Gabriel's underworld empire. I expanded his territory, conquered half of the turfs, and allowed him to sit on that throne. But just as I secured a billion-dollar casino contract, he ruthlessly tore the silver badge from my chest. He handed my entire career over to his new love, Serena. "Hand everything over to my fiancée, or you won't leave this room alive." Serena was a helpless outsider who had never even touched a gun, yet she wanted everything that was mine. Gabriel humiliated me in front of twelve family capos and announced that they would be married next month. He even threatened that if I didn't hand over the family's encrypted master drive to her before dawn, he would blacklist me and send men to take my life. Did he really think I would just obediently step aside and watch them take away everything I had built with my own hands? So, I calmly handed Serena a master drive loaded with a logic bomb—one that would drain their accounts and expose them to the FBI. Then, I walked out into the pouring rain, accepted an invitation from his most lethal rival, and prepared to watch his empire burn to ashes.

One week before my wedding, I walked into the master bedroom of my fully-paid penthouse apartment and caught my fiancé cheating with my best friend. They were laughing about his fake "insomnia"—the lie he'd used to trick me into sleeping in the guest room so they could have the master bedroom to themselves. Gage was a top surgeon, and I'd sacrificed almost everything to care for his supposedly fragile health. I'd even brewed essential oils from my late mother's precious collection to steady his hands. But behind my back, they were planning to pretend to marry me, then slowly push me out and take over my home. When I confronted them, they didn't show a single ounce of guilt. Gage deliberately destroyed the essential oil my late mother had left me, then violently shoved me against the wall and locked me in the room to suffer the pain and bleeding alone. I had poured everything into building a safe harbor for this man, and in his eyes, I was nothing but a convenient stepping stone. I didn't even bother shedding a single tear. I took out my phone, canceled our honeymoon trip, and listed the penthouse on the market—cash sale, 24 hours. Time to take out the trash.

For eight years, I lived in a freezing, unheated apartment, washing the bloodstains out of my mob enforcer boyfriend's suits every day. He strictly gave me two thousand dollars a month, saying we had to live frugally and save up enough money to escape this dark world. But when I was washing his clothes, I found a receipt for a custom engagement ring worth sixty-eight thousand dollars. That ring wasn't for me, but for his secret lover, Mia. I cracked the password on his encrypted laptop and uncovered his three-year-long double life. He wasn't a bottom-tier thug struggling to survive in a dangerous game at all. He embezzled forty-eight thousand dollars from his mob boss's accounts every month to buy Mia diamonds, cars, and a luxury apartment in Manhattan. And meanwhile, I was drinking watery porridge just to save a little on the electricity bill. When I confronted him, he didn't show a single ounce of guilt, accusing me instead: "You're too heavy. Being around you suffocates me." He thought I was a pathetic parasite who couldn't survive without his protection. But what he didn't know was that I had already quietly earned over a million dollars through legitimate antique painting restoration work. I packed my bags. It was time to let the mob know who was really stealing their money.

On the night before my wedding, I opened an anonymous message card, only to find out that my fiancé had been cheating on me with my maid of honor for four years. The engagement ring on my hand was actually a cheap reject that she didn't want; her so-called "emergency business trip" was actually to cover up the fact that she had just given birth to his child last week. What sent the worst chills down my spine was that his entire family knew about this perfectly well, yet they still happily watched me meticulously prepare for this scam of a wedding. When I canceled the wedding and confronted them, his mother actually slapped me across the face. "You're nothing but a poor girl clinging to my son. Camilla is the one he truly loves." And my fiancé didn't even defend me. Instead, he pushed me to the ground, causing me to hit my head, all just to comfort his crying mistress. I spent eight years by his side, accompanying him from having nothing to where he is now, only to realize I was nothing but a convenient placeholder. I took off that discarded ring, blocked all of them, and bought a one-way ticket to Oregon, USA. This time, I decided to leave forever and never look back. But now, he's going crazy begging for my forgiveness!

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