Alone in the cold black with 36 hours of oxygen. Jolo Vargas, Federation Gunboat Captain, is trapped in a runaway escape pod zooming towards Federation space. But will he be dead before he gets there? He's in a tight spot. But he's a war hero, just the type of man who could work his way out of this jam. But there's just one little problem. He doesn't remember who he is. Will he find out his identity and his place in the universe, or will he run out of air on the edge of Fed space?

    Before dawn, a reputedly empty five-story apartment building across the street from his flat on New York City's Lower West Side, erupted into a giant fireball. Government agencies later attributed the blast to a gas leak. As the massive firefighting and cleanup effort began, Colton collected personal papers and property from a bent and twisted hulk that had, until minutes earlier, been his automobile. A box of photocopies he'd left on the backseat had wound up outside the vehicle and he was forced to sift through assorted street trash to recover as much as possible. Unaware that something extra had gotten mixed in with his personal items, he carried the bundle up to his apartment. When he later began to separate the papers in the privacy of his third-floor walk-up, he discovered something among the detritus that couldn't possibly exist, yet obviously did. Sci-Fi Crime Drama - 110,000 Words - 344 Pages

     Follow a core group of characters known as the Trailblazers as they use alien technology and knowledge discovered in Antarctic ruins to obtain limited immortality and lead Humanity out into the galaxy, encountering, befriending, and fighting hundreds of alien races all the while desperately trying to prepare Earth for the unbeatable threat at the core of the Milky Way that is destined to return and reclaim their lost colony…and their former Human slaves. Episodes in this set: SF73-Cascade SF74-Divergent SF75-Resistance SF76-Divide

    Tolerance now rules the five colonies. Thanks to the secret police, no one has been bothered by so much as a hymn in two generations-much less a Torah, Koran, or that most dangerous of books, a Bible. Baden is a teenager with an attitude. He spends his spare time salvaging wrecks in deep space, claiming for himself whatever the pirates leave behind. One day, Baden finds a book. A strange and very old book, preserved carefully against the ravages of deep space. Thinking he'll become rich if only for the value of the paper, he takes it. He counts himself lucky beyond all imagining. Until it begins talking to him. Amidst an interstellar war that threatens to overthrow the monarchy and drive great families to oblivion, Baden must evade the secret police and their attempts to get that book. Baden never had much use for religion. But it seems one has use of him. *** Steve Rzasa was born and raised in South Jersey, and fell in love with books-especially science fi cti on novels and historical volumes-at an early age. He and his wife, Carrie, have two boys and live in Buff alo, Wyoming. Steve's short story, "Rescued," which is set in the universe of The World Reclaimed, won the 2009 G.K. Chesterton Award in the Athanatos Christi an Ministries Writi ng Contest.

     Tane, a hydroponics engineer with some mean crop gene-splicing skills, decides to get chipped. The operation gives him full control over his autonomic nervous and endocrine systems, plus the ability to install custom memories. All seems well until a couple of days later aliens come knocking at his door. And they aren't the friendly type. Soon Tane finds himself on a frenzied flight across the galaxy with a woman who can warp the very fabric of spacetime, her partner--who’d just as soon kill Tane than protect him--and a starship that calls him snarky pet names. He's on the run not simply from the aliens but the whole damn human space navy. He only wished he knew why. Unfortunately for Tane, the answer might just destroy him. Not to mention the entire known universe.

    The only the thing is, it usually happens when I’ve been drinking… and I’d been dry for the better part of two years. I’m Commodore Jeremy David Riker… my friends call me JD or just plain “Dog.” I have the dubious honor of running a starship boneyard in the middle of nowhere.