Taking a leaf from MDg’s latest great post, I thought I might try and offer a commentary of sorts on my writing. Instead of looking back, I’m going to write about a story series I am currently developing and writing – which may spoil a little of some of what is to come but not so much.
I’ve opted to offer commentary on Star Station Hope: Watchtower. Based in a shared writing universe (Tales of the Eleventh Fleet) the series is based on and about a Border Patrol station, known as a Star Station, protecting and policing the borders between Free, Breen, Cardassian, Federation and Tzenkthi space.
Cue lots of diplomatic and border spat troubles with a truckload of gunboat diplomacy and I have the beginnings of my story. Or so is my hope and intention.
Populated by a myriad host of characters and peoples, it hopes to be a centre of intrigue, politics and action as personalities and powers clash in the Post-Dominion War period, striving for peace or for an advantage over others.
So join me in my series of posts under the ‘Writing Hope’ banner where I’ll explore and discuss the origins, settings, details, characters, politics, scenarios and writing plans for Star Station Hope: Watchtower.
And just to give a flavour, here was my original ‘teaser blurb’ for the series:
Star Station Hope: Watchtower
* * *
The creed of the Border Patrol Service is a simple one:
To save lives. To protect borders. To hold the line.
* * *
On the frontier, on the edge of Federation space, standing guard, keeping a watchful vigil, sentry to the stars, a gateway to trade and diplomacy and a bulwark of safety and protection stood a station called ‘Watchtower’. Star Station Hope stood on a crossroad of borders – Breen, Tzenkthi and Cardassian – a citadel to guard and defend the Federation.
It was a bastion, a guardian, a sentry, keeping a watchful vigil on the borders to protect the Federation. It was a seat of law and order, a sheriff in the border lands, policing the space lanes, charged to protect the innocent. It was a lifeline, a lighthouse, keeping travellers safe, rescuing the distressed, lost and adrift.
To some it was called home, to others a home away from home, where enemy and ally live side by side. A place of business and diplomacy where trust was the most precious commodity, Star Station Hope was a home, a seat of Federation law and order, a beacon for peace and hope.
In the end, in its last days, it was a harbinger of the annihilation to come.
It was the line.
The line that had to be held.
The last line.
* * *