QSFer Sheila Jenne has a new queer space opera out (bi, lesbian): Black Sails to Sunward.
In a world of frock coats, solar sails, and rigid class boundaries, Lucy joins the Martian Imperial Navy as a midshipman.
Mars and Earth are at war, and Lucy hopes for quick promotion. But when she arrives aboard ship, she finds harsh officers and a crew on the verge of mutiny. And worse: her former friend, Moira—a commoner and a radical—is a member of the crew.
It’s clear where Lucy’s duty lies. As an officer and a gentlewoman, she has to quell the crew’s rebellion and preserve her ship for the fight against Earth. But soon, she’ll have to make a decision between all she’s been taught to believe and the injustice she can see with her own eyes.
Warnings: flogging (non sexy), sexual assault (only mentioned)
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Excerpt
It’s difficult to get dressed for a business deal when everything hangs on not letting the other person know you’re making one.
I had chosen my lilac morning coat, spotless if a little out of fashion, white shirt with a flowing cravat, and buff trousers. It certainly looked like the sort of thing a careless, wealthy gentlewoman might wear to impress a lady. Not the sort of thing the scion of a penniless house might wear to go begging. Though what I was doing was, in a sense, both.
In the sky above, a red streak interrupted the blue: a terraforming capsule burning off. Mars was terraformed generations ago, but keeping our atmosphere was an ongoing fight against the eroding force of the solar wind. An ongoing, expensive fight. The atmospheric gases in the capsule cost a small fortune to purchase from Earth or Venus, and every landowner had to pay our share in taxes. Taxes we could ill afford.
I swung off my horse before Miss Hendershott’s front door and carefully dusted off my coat. For a moment I hesitated, my hand just over the wrought-iron knocker. I wished I could have waited longer. I wasn’t entirely sure of the lady’s feelings. She certainly seemed to like me; the entire summer she had been renting the lake house, she had invited me to every soirée, dinner, and walking excursion that she had put on. And for my part, I had hosted several large (and expensive) events to impress her. The cost had set my teeth on edge, but my mother had reminded me that it was an investment. It would be foolish to lose my chance with her by letting it be rumored we were short of funds.
But there wasn’t going to be another chance. Tomorrow, Miss Hendershott would give up her lease on the lake house and return to town for the winter season. She didn’t know I couldn’t afford to follow her there.
I gave the knocker a sharp rap and was admitted. Miss Hendershott’s butler dispatched a boy for my horse and ushered me into her morning room. “Captain Black-Medvedev is visiting also,” he commented before opening the door.
Unfortunate. I needed to talk to her alone, and besides, Captain Black was a bore. One of the veterans from the last war, promoted beyond his station like so many had been. But Miss Hendershott rose to greet me politely, smoothing her yellow frock.
“Miss Prescott-Chin!” she cried, with obvious pleasure. “I hoped you would come to see me before I left!”
“I promised I would.” I lightly touched her fingertips before taking a seat. Dimples flashed in her cheeks.
Captain Black greeted me politely, and I forced a smile at him. Not his fault he was ruining my plans. Unless he, too, had designs on the wealthy heiress. It wouldn’t surprise me; she was personable, reasonably attractive in a round-faced, brunette sort of way, and most importantly, absolutely rolling in Martian Imperial pounds sterling. But she would never be interested in him, would she? I hoped not.
Miss Hendershott was talking about her plans for the winter. Landing City, some distance south of Olympus Mons, was a bustling metropolis at any time of year, but especially in winter, since it was near the equator. Anyone who was anyone had a townhouse there. Even we did—but ours was let. We pretended it was because we didn’t enjoy the city.
“I hear the Emprex Themself is having a soirée to celebrate the opening of the new mining station,” I said.
“So I hear, though I don’t know yet if I’ll be invited,” she said wistfully. I curled my toes inside my boots, embarrassed to have brought it up. I knew about the soiree because I had received an invitation. My father was the Marquis of Hellas Basin; we couldn’t possibly not be invited. But Miss Hendershott’s parents had made their money on trade. As far as the Emprex was concerned, she was new money and not someone Their Majesty would know.
“That mining station will change everything,” Captain Black declared. “With easier access to the asteroid belt, we won’t have to rely so heavily on Earth trade for water. I’d like to see the look on those Earthers’ faces when they’re forced to admit we’re not their lowly colony anymore.”
I eyed him up and down. “I’m surprised to hear you say that.”
“I think every loyal Martian would say that!”
Giving a noncommittal nod, I asked, “Isn’t that waistcoat real silk?”
It certainly was; the bamboo imitation never took dye quite well enough to reach that rich berry color. But real silk had to be imported from Earth, since we didn’t make it here. And it had been under embargo since we’d won our independence from Earth.
Captain Black’s face reddened. In the politest of ways, I’d accused him of disloyalty to Mars by buying smuggled goods and there wasn’t a thing he could say to that. He stiffly rose to his feet. “Somehow the company in your morning room has grown less congenial, Miss Hendershott.” With a deep bow to her, and a stiff nod to me, he went out.
She gave me a troubled look. “I’m afraid you’ve offended him,” she said.
I cringed internally. She thought I’d offended him by accident? But it was probably best to let her believe that. She was a kindly soul and wouldn’t ever purposefully give offense, even to an obnoxious person like Captain Black.
“I’ll have to make it up to him another time,” I said. “Today I really came to speak to you alone.”
Her fingers twisted in her lap. “Alone?”
“You can’t be in any doubt of my regard for you,” I said quietly. “I don’t think this comes as a surprise.”
Author Bio
Sheila Jenné was raised on Star Trek and classic novels of the Age of Sail. But instead of joining the Navy like her dad wanted, she ended up a Latin teacher, content writer, and mother of four. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys historical costuming, fiber crafts, and hiking.
| Author Website | https://www.sheilajenne.com |
| Author Twitter | https://twitter.com/jennelikejennay |