Documentary evidence says where there is smoke there is fire, be it holy smoke or otherwise.

— Christina Engela

Dominating others is not equality.

— Christina Engela

Don't be a bully, don't be meanie a hero, don't be afraid to be seen.

— Christina Engela

Even when you're down, there is still hope. No matter how bad things get and no matter how small a hope there is, anything is better than nothing, No matter how bad things get, they can always, ALWAYS get worse. Take my word on that.

— Christina Engela

Everybody is unique and different. Nobody is the same as anyone else. There is no 'normal' - it is a lie taught to us by a system so flawed that it is threatened by the awesome diversity of nature.

— Christina Engela

Everybody should be equal in a democracy - that is the nature of a democracy.

— Christina Engela

Ex ‘Fleet man?”“He was a full Commander, last I heard, sir.”“Interesting.” Falconer commented. “Get me his specs. If I have to take him aboard my ship, I want to know all about him.” She swallowed. “Yes sir.” Falconer returned his attention to Nor dyke.“What’s their location?”“They’re about a week outside the Hermes system, Captain.”“Helm, set a course – best possible speed!”“Um – sir, we’re on conversion drive at the moment.” The helmsman reported.“I know, Linton – d’you think I’m senile?”“No, sir – I…” The young helmsman stammered.“I did say ‘best possible speed’, didn’t I?”“Yes, sir.

— Christina Engela

For Commander Ripley Jones, it was becoming more and more troublesome. It had been said that nothing is infallible, Antares apparently being the proof. After hastily recalling all crew and leaving Space dock 7 thirty hours ago, there had been nothing but problems. Breakdowns in the sensors and telemetry, system failures of a wide variety and finally – the Last Straw: a coupling seal in the star drive engine failed. Fortunately the cut-out worked, or the whole of engineering would’ve disappeared in a flaming ball of anti-matter. Five crewmen were seriously injured as it was. Commander Smith, the Chief Edtech, had the offending unit stripped down and under repair. They were currently on conversion drive - which could only propel them at sub-light speeds – and Ripley was currently in an elevator with a very pissed Captain Falconer.

— Christina Engela

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 Canals 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.)

— Christina Engela

For the gaming fishermen there was the Whatsit River and its native cocoa-snoek, the main game fish of the resident Siege’s Valley Dynamite Fishing Club. Cocoa-snoek were wily and tough and rather too bright for mere fish. You wouldn’t catch much with a rod around here. Many inexperienced visitors would find the bait stolen from their hooks, which punctuated the discovery that their lines had somehow got snagged and tangled irretrievably around some underwater obstruction – sometimes tied together with neat little bows. Often, several direct hits with hand grenades were needed to stun the creatures long enough just to catch them, gut them and fry them, but these former military types had become experts at it. For a modest fee, tours could be arranged via the booking office, which included an overnight stay on the banks of the river where one could drop off to a great night’s sleep after a satisfying meal of cocoa-snoek done on an open fire, and the sound the bits of shrapnel made rattling in your stomach.

— Christina Engela