Progress is happening on Kyron the Mercenary. That will be followed by A Far Federation which is genuine Space Opera.
After that will be Taroniah at Marsea the Kyron the Magician. Beyond that is still a little murky but probably The Princess and the Spy.
Ostraya will be finished in the next few months – edited – sent to Pam Uphoff for approval and hopefully will be out before the end of the year separate to the regular publishing stream.

and….

Taroniah at Peace is live
The war might be over, but for Taroniah life goes on. Follow her through her semi-exile back to Alcitran where she needs to turn her magical abilities into enough money for her, Kauriga and Rengard to live on while continuing her magical studies. Her peaceful existence is interrupted by the Assassins Guild, reacquainting with old friends, experiencing the joys of motherhood, and trying to keep up with her booming business interests.

Backus Marsh was reached just as the sun was going down, and the supply driver very kindly dropped him at the headquarters shack in the base just outside the town proper. From there, he was directed to a house just beyond the wire-protected base area. He knocked on the door before walking in. The lounge room had been converted into an office with two desks. There was a male Corporal behind one at a female private behind the other, both looking at him.

“I’m supposed to report to Captain Greaves.”

“You’ll be our new mentalist then?”

“Yes, Andrew Harris.”

“Right. Just a moment.”

The man’s face took on a distant expression, and Andrew could feel him doing something mentally. Then the Corporal snapped back into a normal expression.

“The Captain will see you straight away. You can leave your duffel there.” The man pointed to the left of the door Andrew had come in through. “Through the door on the left.”

“Thanks, Corporal.”

As per the military etiquette he was taught in training, he knocked and then entered without waiting for permission as he was expected by the person inside. Captain Greaves was sitting behind the desk that was directly opposite the door. Dressed in the sand and brown camo and with her hair tied up, she looked completely different from the girl on the train. Andrew marched forward, came to attention, and saluted, which the Captain returned.

“Sit.” She said, waving a hand at the chair standing a little to the right of the center of the desk.

Sharon watched him sit, studying him and her expression became more puzzled by the second. She knew he had power, she’d picked that up on the train, and she knew he was apparently quite strong, but he was showing little more glow than an ordinary person. Damn, that was an impressive shield he was holding, seemingly automatically. Well, they’d been looking for another powerful magician apart from her, and it appeared they had found one. He and his squad had been sent to the front after an accelerated training program which she wasn’t entirely happy with after the disaster the first group of magic recruits had been subjected to, but she wasn’t in overall command, so she could only do the best she could.

She had read the report from Sanchez with some interest. Harris’s suggestion about grounding shields was simple but clever, and she had passed that idea on to the other mentalists in the army. Such as they were. Reading Sanchez’s report, there seemed to be little that Harris needed to learn in terms of mentalist skills, which surprised her as she thought she was quite well-trained. Her grandfather had been a very powerful magician, as they used to be called, and had taught her very well once he’d realized she’d inherited his magical ability. She was still puzzled by her father’s lack of apparent magical ability, but she put it down to one of those genetic quirks that happened every now and again. The power gene must have been recessive in her father, which seemed a bit odd but was not unheard of, apparently, according to her grandfather.

“Right. Outside Karen will have your assignments ready for you, so for now, dismissed.” He stood, came to attention, and saluted.

They all came to attention and returned the salute before turning to start filing out.

“Andrew Harris? Can you stay behind, please?” Reynolds said, scanning the faces as he did so.

Andrew nodded and eased back out of everyone else’s way. Reynolds spotted him standing back and nodded. The Captain sat down and waited for the others to exit the room, which took a while as they each had to tell the Corporal out front their name and be given their assignments. Ciccone was the last to exit, and he looked back and gave Andrew a wink before exiting the room. Andrew nodded, heaved himself off the wall, and came over to stand in front of the Captain.

“Sir?”

“I have a personal request to assign you to the strongest mentalist we have, plus a report from Corporal Sanchez saying that you are the most capable mentalist he has ever seen. Yet I can barely feel you, which means you must have very good shields.”

“Yes, sir.”

The Captain studied him for a moment and then gave his head a small shake.

“So, do you know Captain Greaves?”

“We sat next to each other on the train I took from the Gold Coast to training camp. We didn’t talk for most of the trip, sir.”

“I see. Well, she’s requested you to be her understudy. She is currently at Backus Marsh. See the Corporal out the front for your new orders. You should be able to pick up the transport heading that direction fairly easily. Dismissed.”

Andrew snapped to attention and saluted, to which the Captain replied, and then he stepped out of the room to find the Corporal holding up an envelope that no doubt contained his orders.

“Any idea of how I should get to Backus Marsh?” he asked with a smile.

“Head over to the supply section. They’re in the southwest corner of the camp. They’ll have someone heading out that way pretty much every hour or two.”

“Thanks.” He said, pocketed his orders, grabbed his duffel, and headed in what he hoped was the direction of the supply depot. There was a lieutenant on duty there who seemed to be in charge, and after he had shown the lieutenant his orders to proceed to Backus Marsh, the lieutenant checked his delivery list but informed Andrew that there was a truck heading that way in an hour or so.

Andrew found out where the mess was from the Lieutenant and headed in that direction to get something to eat. They were offering some sort of stew that proved to be quite tasty, and he polished off a bottle of water as well before heading back to the supply section to wait for his ride. No one else was traveling, so I got to sit in the cab with the driver as the truck made its way south. There wasn’t much other traffic on the road, but at one stage, they got stuck behind a small convoy consisting of a command vehicle, three trucks, and two transporters with tanks aboard. It was nearly twenty minutes before they finally got to a spot where they could get past the convoy.

Only a quick stop at Allbree, but he had time to get another coffee and eventually fell asleep with only about an hour of the trip remaining! He was still bleary-eyed when he staggered off the train at Seemor along with most of the troops. A huge army base had grown up here since the invasion had started, just to the south of the town. It appeared to be a hive of activity as far as Andrew could see as the troops off the train marched down the road from the railway station and into the camp. There were a couple of officers with some enlisted flunkies just inside the gate, and each group of men from the train was asked what their orders were and then directed to the appropriate part of the camp.

The newly minted Special Forces mentalists, using the term the enemy had for what up till now had been called magic, were sent to the far west of the camp to find a Captain Reynolds. The Captain was found in one of the simple wooden shacks that comprised most of the camp’s buildings. He heard Contos telling one of the others that the shacks were a pre-sawn kit that had been manufactured by the hundred to provide quick accommodation and office space for both the military and the thousands of refugees that had fled the invasion.

They were looking for a hut halfway along the last street on the left after being pointed down the road that headed west across the sprawling camp. Not the most precise directions, but easy enough to follow. The last street on the left ran up a slight hill, and the hut at the top had a sign that read Special Forces tacked onto the front above the doorway. Inside was a desk with a female Corporal who didn’t seem overjoyed to see them. She ran through the list to make sure they were all present and then buzzed the Captain, who told them to come in.

Captain Reynolds was a solid man in his late forties or early fifties, balding and clearly very old for his rank. He saluted them all as they squashed into his office and then sat while he contemplated them.

“Right. Hopefully, you lot will do better than the last lot.” He shook his head. “First off, you will all be assigned to an existing mentalist for evaluation and to be shown the ropes. Until that person decides that you are both capable enough and sensible enough to be allowed out on your own, you will stay glued to your assigned mentalist at all times, do you understand?”

There were reluctant nods from everyone. The Captain smiled.

“I know. It doesn’t sound real exciting. But it is the new policy, and you will all follow it to the letter, or you’ll be assigned to garrison duty in the Gulf. Do you understand?”

The vehemence inherent in the way the Captain said this had its effect, and they all nodded quickly.