[continued from previous message]   
      
   In her way Jessica Lin was a Golden Girl (but with less wrinkles   
   than Bea Arthur), tops in the academy and with a spotless service   
   record and command surely awaiting her.  Until, that is, she was   
   unwisely loyal to someone who deserved no loyalty and lost her   
   career and even personal autonomy.  Now, bullied, harassed and   
   unwilling to believe she deserves better, she has ended up in the   
   Fleet's cesspool.   
      
   Fate had thrown together two broken people.  Could they fix each   
   other?   
      
   I read these on vacation, and I'll admit to staying up late by the   
   pool while the crickets sang in the woods behind the hotel.  Despite   
   the heavy issues that set up the series, it moves right along, often   
   humorously given Mendoza's internal monologue after he somewhat   
   gets his act together.  I think some amazon reviewers did not always   
   like the tone, given Jessica's very serious issues, but it worked   
   for me.   
      
   The series also surprised me several times.  I assumed it would be   
   the standard "Captain gets himself together and makes his ship of   
   dregs into the Pride of the Fleet", but that's not the way it went   
   at all, electing to tell a more focused story.  Not that it was a   
   small one, as Mendoza & Lin gradually get involved in interstellar   
   politics, gathering allies and betrayals, often from the same people   
   until it finally seems that fate has smiled, when the pair once   
   again fail to do the expected thing.   
      
   The series is not over, and Book 9 is due to drop on 31 December.   
      
      
   Swords, Cider, and Other Distractions: A Glass Immortals Novella   
   by Brian McClellan   
   https://amzn.to/4m5Q2tP   
      
   The start of this novella (whose cover unfortunately does not live   
   up to the title) sees Demir Grappo a former commander in the   
   Romanesque Ossan Empire at the lowest point in his life.  In the   
   first book of the series, we met him mostly well after this, when   
   he was still hurting but functional.  Here the wounds of the massacre   
   of Holikan are too fresh, and he is wandering aimlessly, barely   
   able to put one foot in front of the other or feed himself.   
      
   Luckily (or possibly through forces stronger than Luck) he comes   
   into his first glance at the Big Picture of forces outside of the   
   Ossan glass-based magic system when, at his almost terminal point,   
   he meets a questing squire of the Court of Lilies (They're not a   
   sex cult!), who is seeking the villains who murdered one of her   
   order's paladins and stole his sword:   
      
   	Ciata ignored the locals and continued to follow her quarry's   
   	trail past countless vineyards and wineries. After days of   
   	monotonous riding the road finally turned to follow along   
   	the side of a massive gorge. She could see where the gorge   
   	let out into a river further on--and the river had riverboats.   
   	Real traffic.   
      
   	The road turned to cross the gorge by way of a breathtaking   
   	bridge. Ciata actually got down from Penny and led the horse   
   	across on foot, just so she could really enjoy the view up   
   	and down the gorge and its towering cliffs. The bridge   
   	itself must have been a quarter of a mile across. A true   
   	genius of human workmanship. Witness the works of man and   
   	rejoice, the goddess Selease instructed her followers.   
      
   	Ciata wasn't the only one enjoying the view either. A young   
   	man was doing the same further on, and Ciata prepared a   
   	word of greeting as she approached. He was her height--short   
   	for a man. He wore a ratty tunic shredded by travel and   
   	weather, caked in mud. At his belt was a wineskin. His black   
   	hair was unkempt and his beard patchy. The young man had   
   	not even noticed her presence. He leaned too far out over   
   	the canyon, the expression on his face distant. Even at the   
   	poor angle, she could see the sorrow in his eye. It affected   
   	her instantly, causing her to pay closer attention.   
      
   	He leaned out farther and farther, reaching in the open sky   
   	for something she couldn't see. A skip and a jump and Ciata   
   	was on him. She snagged him by his belt, bracing herself   
   	on the low stone wall that lined the bridge. He was a heavy   
   	bugger. He almost pulled her down with him, but Ciata braced   
   	her legs and yanked back, wrestling him to the ground and   
   	straddling him to keep him in place.   
      
   	He was chubby from excess, though not fat, with the olive-toned   
   	skin of an Ossan, close-set ears, and a face marked by smile   
   	lines. He couldn't have been much younger than her--maybe   
   	twenty, twenty-one--but there was an incredible weight in   
   	his eyes.   
   	   
   	Her favorite scripture came to mind. Show love and kindness   
   	to the broken, for a storm rages inside of them that you   
   	can't imagine.   
   	   
   	"Why did you do that?" he asked. He seemed to struggle to   
   	focus on her face.   
   	   
   	"You were going to fall!"   
   	   
   	"Was I?"   
   	   
   	"Sure looked like it to me."   
   	   
   	Everything about his face changed instantly. His eyes   
   	focused. Gone was the sorrow. He regarded her with sudden   
   	and intense interest. "Hmm. Maybe. Maybe not. You're very   
   	cute."   
   	   
   	It was a compliment clearly meant to distract her. Ciata   
   	fended it off. No, no. This would not work on her. She   
   	recognized the look of a broken person, and she immediately   
   	knew two things about this young man: he liked women, and   
   	he knew how to hide his pain. "I'm not going to let you   
   	kill yourself."   
   	   
   	"Why not?" he asked with a half smile that showed one   
   	adorable dimple.   
   	   
   	"Because it wouldn't be right."   
   	   
   	"Says who?"   
   	   
   	"Says me. I am a questing squire of the Court of Lilies, a   
   	holy paladin of the goddess Selease, and I am sworn to help   
   	the downtrodden."   
   	   
   	The young man blinked up at her. He sure didn't seem to   
   	mind that he was lying beneath her. In fact, he gave a   
   	little wiggle to get himself more comfortable. She couldn't   
   	let that distract her either. "I assure you, miss, I am not   
   	the downtrodden."   
   	   
   	"I beg to differ. Now tell me truthfully, does this thing   
   	you're fighting have to do with a girl? Because whoever   
   	they are, they're not worth it. You'll find someone else."   
   	   
   	"It's not a broken heart," the young man replied with that   
   	wounded half smile. It was at once pathetic and compelling.   
   	She thought of more of that same scripture verse. Guard   
   	your heart against these broken, lest they force their   
   	burden upon you. Wise words from the goddess. Ciata rubbed   
   	her nose. Her new friend smelled...aggressively.   
   	   
   	"I'll let you up if you promise not to jump."   
   	   
   	"Hm."   
   	   
   	"What do you mean by that?"   
   	   
   	"I'm thinking about it."   
   	   
   	"Is it that hard of a decision?"   
   	   
   	"At the moment, what's on top of me is more pleasant than what's at the   
   bottom of that canyon."   
   	   
   	Ciata rolled her eyes. "You're a cad."   
   	   
   	"Did you say you're a Seleasian?"   
   	   
   	"That's right."   
   	   
   	"You're a sex cultist?"   
   	   
   	Ciata made a strangled sound in the back of her throat and   
   	punched him in the shoulder. The young man winced.   
   	   
   	"I guess not?"   
   	   
   	"No, we're not a sex cult! I'm surprised you've heard of us at all."   
   	   
   	"Would you prefer to speak in Balkani?" he asked, switching   
   	languages. To her surprise, his accent was almost perfect.   
   	Perfect southern Balkani, but still very good.   
   	   
   	The change of languages did catch her off guard. He was   
   	still trying to distract her. Frustratingly, it was working.   
   	"I haven't spoken to anyone in Balkani in weeks! How do you   
   	know it so well?"   
   	   
   	"I've spent a lot of time up north."   
   	   
   	"You don't look it."   
   	   
   	"How would I look it?"   
   	   
   	"You're very soft."   
   	   
   	His eyes narrowed.   
   	   
   	"It's not an insult!" she protested. "I like soft people. They tend to be   
   better lovers."   
   	   
   	"Good to know."   
   	   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)