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Conventions, Writing

Kal’s January 2025 update

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Hey everyone, happy January. It’s 2025… I’ll still be over here dating everything 2019, don’t mind me.

All joking aside, I’m pushing towards completion on several books. I’ve been hit pretty hard with a variety of bad news over the past few weeks, and I won’t lie, that’s had an impact on my writing. I’m starting to get back into it, though and hopefully we’ll get some good news here soon to offset the rough stuff.

I’ll be at MarsCon in Virginia Beach next weekend, 17-20 January. It’s a fun little convention and if you’re in the area, I highly recommend it. I’ll have a table in the vendor’s room, so if you’re in the area, be sure to come see me.

I hope to have several books done over the next few weeks, so check in here for updates. Thanks for reading!

Writing

Hell Train Snippet One

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Chapter One

The possessed didn’t move out of the way as two thousand, nine hundred and fifty tons of steel rolled into them. The train didn’t lurch, it didn’t shudder, it didn’t even really slow as it crushed dozens of the rotting corpses and rolled right on through. The train snow plow on the front mostly sent the mindless undead tumbling out of the way, shattering their bones and leaving those it struck limp and motionless. Jack couldn’t even hear the sound of crunching bone and tearing flesh over the sound of the train’s wheels on the tracks and the grumble of the diesel-electric locomotives.

A few would sometimes find their way under the wheels or would catch a grip on one of the sides of the cars in passing. That was why the train riders went to full defensive status as they passed through towns. In towns, the train had to slow down for curves and track switches. As Jack watched, hundreds more possessed shambled out of the otherwise dark and deserted town, drawn by the noise of the train. Most of them were too slow to reach the train in time, but a handful were either fresher or simply more energetic, and those managed a stumbling run.

Most of those grasped blindly for the train and many of them lacked the dexterity necessary to accomplish anything beyond falling beneath the wheels and being ground into a red paste. Survivors fended off the handful that caught hold, using improvised spears. This situation wasn’t severe enough to warrant the use of ammunition.

“Watch for clingers,” Jack shouted over his radio. “Report your status by car!” Captain Jack Zamora waited patiently, his body armor, weapons, and helmet a familiar weight. The gray-eyed former Army officer kept a confident expression on his lean face, even as he felt worry eat at his gut.

“Car forty-nine, all clear,” Chris Peck reported. The former construction project manager from Cincinnati had a proper attention to detail, which was why Jack had chosen him for the trail car. “No clingers and we’re clear of the town.”

The other cars reported in, one by one, and as the train began to pick up speed again, Jack gave a silent prayer of thanks. It looked like they’d made it.

“This is car twelve!” A panicked voice shouted over the radio, “Taylor is down, there’s a possessed, oh god, they’re killing us!”

Jack didn’t take the time to swear. He waved at the response team and started running back along the line of cars. Twelve cars, he did the math as he ran, trying not to think about how many women and children were in the car twelve, fifty-five and a half feet per car, that’s six hundred and sixty-six feet.

Jack didn’t even notice the gaps between cars as he jumped them, shotgun clutched in his hands. A single possessed wasn’t too bad of a hazard, not by itself, not normally. They’ll be alright, he tried to tell himself. Yet he knew just how close they were to Indianapolis. He knew that bodies rose quicker the closer they were to the dead cities. One possessed would kill one person and the corpse would rise. Two would kill two more…

As he rushed forward, he saw car twelve. Children clustered on the top, center part of the car, passed up by their parents to safety. As he watched, a screaming woman tried to pull herself up on the side, clutching at the ropes that the survivors had run across the top for just that purpose.

Reaching arms caught her and pulled her back. She let out a shrill scream as they dragged her down and Jack knew the look on her face, he’d seen it far too often over the past six months. It was terror, but it was also disbelief. She didn’t understand — couldn’t understand — why this was happening to her. Before Jack could raise his shotgun, he felt that scream cut off with brutal finality and even over the noise of the train he heard the grinding crunch as she fell beneath the rail wheels.

Jack knew that there probably weren’t any other survivors in the car, but he didn’t hesitate. He ran forward, caught a side rope, and swung into the open car door feet first.

His boots slammed into a cluster of undead and the possessed tumbled back from the impact. Jack found his footing and brought up his shotgun. He recognized Taylor’s gray and bloodless face, the former Marine’s throat ripped out. He fired the Remington 870 Express and blood and bits of brain matter splattered his face and eye protection. As the headless possessed stumbled back, Jack pivoted, racked the slide, and picked his next target.

This was an older possessed, its flesh gray and its face sunken. It came at Jack with a jagged shard of bone sticking out of its arm where its hand should have been. Jack fired into the thing’s center of mass. As the possessed stumbled back, Jack moved forward, clearing the area.

The rest of his response team came through the open door behind him. There was no finesse to what they did. As they joined him, Jack dropped his shotgun, letting the friction strap swing it back against his chest, even as he drew his crash ax. The short, ax-like blade was designed purely for chopping and Jack swung it as the next possessed came forward. His heavy blade split the possessed’s skull and as the undead child stumbled, Jack tried not to think, tried not to see, tried to turn off his mind as he split skulls, separated shoulders, and kicked moaning undead out the open side of the train-car.

Clearing the car took less than thirty seconds. He’d become so disconnected that it took a panicked shout “No, no, stop!” for him to halt, mid swing, about to brain a survivor who stood behind a makeshift barricade.

Jack lowered the ax, the blade covered in blood and hair, with bits of skin stuck to it. He tried not to think about the crusty, sticky nature of his stained uniform. The man that he’d nearly killed stared at him with a mixture of fear and shock, but with a level of hero worship that made Jack want to vomit. He turned away. “Status?” Jack barked. He answered his own question in the same way he had drilled his team. “One up.”

“Two up,” Joshua Wachope reported. The tall, bearded, lanky Special Forces man gave him a thumbs up. Josh was solid and there wasn’t anyone that Jack trusted more than him in a fight. I wish he was in charge of this shit, Jack thought, not for the first time.

“Three up,” Johnny Woodard said as he wiped down his ax. The tall, dark, former combat medic looked care-free, as if dismembering people was an everyday occurrence. Come to think of it, Jack thought, it very nearly is…

“Four up,” Hector Chavez snapped. The stocky, perpetually angry man glowered at the survivors of the train car. “How the hell did this happen?!”

“A possessed came in through the latrine hole,” a woman said, her voice distant. “It crawled up and it stabbed Taylor with its arm. Just like that and then he attacked Sophie and…” Her voice trailed off into a confused babble.

“How many survivors?” Jack asked as he turned back to face the men clustered behind the barricade. They’d flipped up a couple of the bunk beds and chairs, he saw. Quick thinking, Jack thought. Though he wished they’d been quicker. One man with a weapon could have stopped all this before it got out of hand.

“Uh…” the two men looked around, both of them clearly shell-shocked.

Jack restrained a sigh. “All of you, come out. We need to check you for injuries and infection.” He shouldn’t blame them, it wasn’t their fault that they didn’t know what to do, how to function. The cars at the center of the train were for those survivors who didn’t understand, who couldn’t defend themselves. They’re weak… a voice spoke in the back of his mind, but he squashed that voice. His people would train them, they would become useful members of his group… one way or another.

“Are they…” a woman gasped, “… are they contagious? I saw Frank, he got bit!” She pointed an accusatory finger at one of the men on the barricade.

The group surged away from the man and Jack just shook his head. “No. No they’re not contagious.” Well, he admitted to himself, only in the sense that they’re dead and they can make you dead, too. “But if you’re injured, then your wounds could turn septic and you could die.” And then you’d rise from the dead and try to kill us all. “We’ve got a medic, he’ll check you out.”

In theory, all the people on the train should know that… but they’d just picked up a few dozen survivors two days ago. Train car twelve was one of the places they put those survivors.

The latrines have covers that should have been latched until we got the all clear, Jack thought to himself. It wouldn’t surprise him if one of the newbies had left that cover open. That meant someone in the car had effectively killed Taylor and all the others. Jack just hoped that whoever it was had paid with their life.

If not, he thought grimly, I’ll kill whoever was responsible.

***

Preorder now: https://amzn.to/3SS3DJQ

Writing

Now available: The Star Engine

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The Star Engine, Book 7 of the Shadow Space Chronicles, is now available! https://amzn.to/3V9blRc

There is a gun pointed at all of human space and it is in the hands of a madman.

The ancient Star Engine, a colossal construct of unknown power, is in the hands of a manipulating schemer. He has already used it once to strike at his enemies, wiping out two entire fleets without giving them the opportunity to fight back.

To make matters worse, he has hundreds of thousands of hostages: men and women he has kidnapped, so that he can mentally program them to do his bidding.

The United Colonies Fleet has to stop him. Emperor Lucius Giovanni has a plan. He has an ally, too. His sister, Lieutenant Alanis Giovanni, is on the surface of the Star Engine, and she plans to take the construct and free the prisoners. If she can do that, then Lucius might have a chance in seizing the system without losing entire fleets.

First, though, Lucius has to deal with the treacherous Centauri Confederation, which seems bent upon destroying the new nation he has built, deal with unknown aliens who kill without explanation or remorse, and protect the worlds of the United Colonies.

The fate of human space and possibly far more rests upon who controls the Star Engine.

Science Fiction, Writing

Now on Sale: The Fallen Race

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In preparation for the release of The Star Engine, I’ve put the The Fallen Race on discount for the next 7 days (17-24 June 2024). If you haven’t read The Fallen Race, the first book of the Shadow Space Chronicles, here is your opportunity to get it!

http://amzn.to/1FzQRRq

Humanity has fallen.

Earth has become a charnel house, the bones of twelve billion inhabitants moldering in ruined and gutted cities, victims of their own governments. Earth’s remaining colonies are besieged. On two sides, aliens bent on the eradication of humanity continue their unstoppable march, capturing world after world.

Baron Lucius Giovanni, Captain of the War Shrike, finds himself in a position to stand and fight. The son of a renegade officer and a social outcast himself, he nevertheless refuses to give up. Lucius has few resources: a forgotten colony in a backwater of space, his ship and crew, and the rumors of a lost fleet that might hold the key to the survival of the human race. He’ll take on pirates, aliens, and his own treacherous allies in a bid to save humanity.

Lucius will not give up. He will not go quietly into the night. He will stand against humanity’s foes and he will prove that while humanity may have fallen, they will rise once again.

Science Fiction, Writing

The Star Engine Snippet 2

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Here is the second snippet of The Star Engine, coming July 12, 2024. Be sure to preorder from Amazon. https://amzn.to/3V9blRc

Sidewinder watched as the human fleet launched their fighter craft and their ship drives went hot, the ships shifting position to form a defensive perimeter from his ships coming in above the ecliptic plane.  He would have preferred to catch them unawares with the sneak attack, but he didn’t regret the loss of surprise.  Some part of him relished in the chance to fight an enemy on more even terms.

Fixer was right, he thought to himself, we are no longer Balor… we are hybrids.  His parent species would not have felt enjoyment at the thought of a challenge, they would not have felt any real emotions at all.  They were a hive mind, made up of individuals who existed for the collective whole, with no more personality or emotion than a terrestrial ant.

Still, it didn’t change his goal here.  The humans could not be allowed to hold the Star Engine.  They must be defeated and eradicated.  Every one of them would have to be hunted down… and while Sidewinder didn’t view that task with pleasure, he at least felt relief that the force readied itself to face him instead of fleeing.  Best to get it all done with.

Sidewinder sent a message to his ships, Prepare to repel fighters and missiles.

***

The enemy ships tightened their formation and their drives, shields, and weapon systems all went live.  Admiral Collae’s dark eyes studied those emissions, particularly those of the ship’s weapon systems.  These enemy ships didn’t seem to mount missile systems.  The reports he had seen described immensely powerful gamma ray emitters, powerful by any standard, but at wavelengths where they bypassed defense screens.  The magnetically contained plasma that formed the defense screens could be adjusted for a variety of threats, but Admiral Collae’s engineers had been unable to find a solution for particles at that highest end of the spectrum.

They seemed to use the same emitters for their point defense weapons, splitting the beams a dozen or more times to engage missiles.  At close range, that left them the options of firing at enemies or defending themselves from missiles and fighters.  That would be an advantage to Admiral Collae’s forces.  Also, the weapons were slow to fire, which meant they could be over-saturated.  “Engagement Pattern Delta,” he said.  “Order the first launch… now.”

The first ten squadrons launched two hundred and sixty fission warhead missiles, followed a moment later by a staggered launch from the next ten squadrons, and then the next ten squadrons.  Half of his fighter force launched their missiles, across a set of purposely staggered firing parameters.  In all, over a thousand missiles headed towards those seventeen ships, their flight times staggered across forty seconds.

Admiral Collae watched those salvoes go out, even as his gaze went to the transports of Force Manticore.  They had just reached position and he noted that the captains of all three vessels had positioned them exactly where ordered.  Excellent.

***

A staggered launch, Sidewinder thought to himself.  He approved of the tactic… but he wasn’t his deceased predecessor, Hunter.  He sent the order out to the force without hesitation, his mind making the calculations for the inbound missiles, the ship’s systems tied into his mind directly through psionic link.

He could sense those missiles on their way in, a skill that he had practiced and rehearsed.  He would not allow the clever humans to hit him with unseen missiles.  That had been how Hunter had died, a failure who had lost far too many resources in his death.  Sidewinder’s mind reached out, amplified and augmented by the minds of his ship’s crews, and he sensed every one of the inbound missiles, directing his ships to stagger their fire across the entire inbound wave in an interlinked sequence designed to let their weapons recharge in time to engage again and again.

It wasn’t perfect.  Just because he could sense a missile’s location didn’t mean he could predict where it would be when his light-speed weapons engaged.  Yet it was far more effective than any merely human engagement and of the thousand missiles, less than ten penetrated the defenses to detonate against his ship’s shields.

***

“Negative on the battle damage assessment, sir,” Captain Thompson reported.

“Unfortunate,” Admiral Collae grunted.  Yet that was why he had held back half of his fighters missiles and all of his shipboard missiles.  He watched as the four hundred fighters began docking to rearm… but he didn’t think they’d make it in time.  The enemy ships came in too fast, their drives far faster than they had any right to be.  I’m tired of being at a disadvantage in technology.  That was their entire purpose of being here: to gain the advantage.  Yet Spencer Penwaithe’s manipulations and Marius Giovanni’s planning and efforts had yet to produce any tactical advantages.

“Go to engagement pattern Bravo-Bravo-Three,” Admiral Collae said.  “Hold missile fire until I give the order, all vessels, engage with energy batteries as your designated targets enter your engagement envelope.”

His formation shifted.  Deep in the bowels of the converted Chxor dreadnought, he was insulated from much of it, but he could sense the tension in his people even so.  This was an enemy they had faced before.  This alien threat was behind attacks that had already annihilated dozens of colony worlds… and most of his crews were drawn from the survivors of those colonies.

The eagerness in his people’s actions and voices as they readied themselves gave him a sense of satisfaction.  They didn’t fear this enemy.  They were eager to fight and eager to stand against them.

The enemy force flashed into the engagement area and their powerful batteries fired, lancing out and smashing through defense screens, armor, and hull as if it were non-existent.  Their attack lanced down, driving towards the heart of Admiral Collae’s fleet.  Destroyers and frigates vanished under that powerful weapons fire… yet they didn’t die alone.  His converted Hellbore and Four-class cruisers engaged with their powerful energy weapons as the ships closed into range, their immense spinal mounts firing, blasting into enemy ships again and again.  Enemy shields flared and died, enemy ships erupted into brief-lived stars.

Admiral Collae’s command ship shuddered under several impacts, and then the enemy ships were almost within his formation.  “Fire,” he snapped.

Fifteen hundred missiles lanced out.  The enemy had clearly saved some of their main weapons for the purpose of engaging those missiles, but they weren’t enough, not at such close range.  Dozens, hundreds of missiles erupted in the enemy formation and while the small, swift vessels dodged ten missiles for every one that hit, that still meant that many ships were hit by over a dozen missiles each.

The enemy formation vanished, eradicated in the span of a few heartbeats, yet Admiral Collae’s gaze went to sensor display, drawn by a shout from his sensors section.

“Admiral, enemy ships detected along Axis Golf!”  That was on the other side of the Star Engine, and his ships and those of Commodore Caras were out of position, especially with how close those ships were.  The only ships between the planet and this oncoming fleet were the three freighters of Force Manticore.

***

Science Fiction, Writing

The Star Engine Snippet 1

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Here is the first snippet of The Star Engine, coming July 12, 2024. Be sure to preorder from Amazon. https://amzn.to/3V9blRc

Prologue

October 22, 2410

Golgotha

Unclaimed Space

Admiral Collae opened his dark eyes and activated the door to his quarters.  The communications rating outside the door froze, one hand still raised to rap on the hatch.  “Yes?” Admiral Collae asked.

To the rating’s credit, she straightened and reported sharply, “Sir, we’re picking up a group of unidentified vessels approaching from outside the system’s plane.”  Approaching off the axis of a star system’s plane of rotation was a standard tactic for those attempting to escape notice.

He didn’t rise from his chair, not yet.  If these ships were within weapon’s range, his ships would have already been going to battle-stations.  He had time, and it wouldn’t do for his people to think he was nervous.  “Any matches for ship classes?”

“No, sir, though they are similar to the emissions signatures of the reported alien craft that we encountered at Kapteyn’s Star,” Her response was crisp and professional, her voice level.  Admiral Collae approved, especially since he knew that this rating had lost her older brother at that engagement.  Dispassionate and intelligent, I will have to ensure she continues her advancement.

“Very well,” Admiral Collae said.  “Inform the Captain that I will be on the bridge in a moment.”

She snapped out a crisp salute and Admiral Collae toggled the switch to close his hatch.  He looked over at his guest, “So it begins.”

Spencer Penwaithe gave him a nod, his expression sour, “It was bound to happen sooner or later.  Marius wasted too much time with his idiot daughter.  You can hold, I assume?”

“Of course,” Admiral Collae stood.  He moved a chess piece into place.

Spencer gave a snort of amusement and took it.  “That’s check… and mate, I believe.”

“Indeed,” Admiral Collae nodded, his expression stony.  Spencer Penwaithe always won their games, but chess never had been Admiral Collae’s game, anyway.  “If you’ll excuse, me, sir?”

“Yes, of course,” Spencer rose as well.  The tall black man adjusted his suit jacket and tie, “Do let me know when this unpleasantness is over.  I’ll be in my quarters.”  The career manipulator seemed dismissive of the battle.  Then again, Spencer Penwaithe’s fights had always been ones fought in the shadows, where as often as not he’d eliminated his foes with daggers to the back while proclaiming his friendship to them.  All well and good, Admiral Collae thought to himself, but not much use in a space battle.  He was glad that his superior would not be joining him on the bridge.

It would have been awkward if he had to order him removed.  Admiral Collae didn’t need an amateur joggling his elbow.

***

“Ship count is seventeen, sir,” Captain Thompson reported as Admiral Collae stepped onto the bridge.  “They’re coming in emission silent, systems in standby mode.  We might not have picked them up without the facility’s sensors.”

“Yes, of course,” Admiral Collae took a seat in his command chair.  He listened to the rest of the briefing with half an ear as he contemplated the geometry of the approaching battle.  The standard question in this circumstance was to see if the enemy would come into weapons range with their systems still on standby mode.  If they would, then in theory they would be easy prey.

Admiral Collae didn’t bother with that approach.  It would be one thing if this were some pirate scum.  It was quite something else when he knew he faced an enemy that had not faced a significant defeat in over a million years.  This was nothing more than a skirmish to them, at this scale, and Admiral Collae would have to be a fool to let them get within range.

“Orders to Carrier Force Harpy, launch all fighters,” Admiral Collae growled.  “All Screen Force Bravo elements, fall back and link up with our main force.  Screen Force Alpha, move to our rear quarter.”  He paused as he considered the alignment of vessels.  “Force Manticore, withdraw to Point Golf Three.”  Force Manticore were three huge freighter vessels in orbit over the Star Engine.  Sending them to Point Golf Three put them below the facility, opposite the approach of the enemy force.

“Order Commodore Caras to Point Zulu One and Captain Vestillius to Point Zulu Two,” Admiral Collae said after a moment.  That put the renegade Centauri Confederation ships and Marius Giovanni’s forces out of the main axis of the fight, but he didn’t entirely trust them anyway.

“Yes, sir,” Captain Thompson replied.  As the orders went out, Admiral Collae ran a hand down his craggy features.  Now, he thought, let us see how intelligent a foe we face.

***

Writing

New Release: Maligned Valor

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Now available, the 7th book of the Forsaken Valor series, Maligned Valor:

https://amzn.to/3TZ75So

In my life, I have been kidnapped, attacked, beaten, and tortured.  Now, they are accusing me of being everything that I hate.

My name is William Alexander Armstrong, I am serving as an Initiate in the Drakkus Imperial Space Korps.  I serve there for my friends, for the girl I love, and in the hopes that I can make things better.  For once, we’re on a mission of peace, trying to make allies, trying to build trust.
​​​​​​​
Only, things have gone horribly wrong.  Elements of the Drakkus Empire have been doing terrible things and they got caught.  That’s spiked the peace talks and now we’re on the verge of war.  That would be bad enough, except the people we’ve been helping are now accusing me of piracy and worse.

I should just walk away, I should give up.  The thing is, there’s something rotten in the star system and I seem to be a magnet for that sort of trouble.  There’s a plot afoot, one designed to throw the entire Periphery into a state of war, and maligned or not, if I don’t have the valor to stop it, no one will.

Writing

Kal’s April Update

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Hey everyone! I’ve waited a few days to update for April since I don’t want anyone thinking I’m posting some sort of April Fools joke…

I’m releasing the latest Forsaken Valor book, Maligned Valor, next week, 12 April 2024. Maligned Valor is the 7th book of the series and it was an incredibly fun book to write. Several of my beta readers have said it’s one of the most enjoyable books I’ve ever written, which I took as pretty high praise!

In other news, I’m back to work on the Shadow Space Chronicles. Yes, it’s been a long while, which meant I reread the whole series to get myself back int he universe in preparation (I’ve also done editing for the whole series in the process, so if you own it on Kindle, you may notice an updated Table of Contents and the like).

The Shadow Space Chronicles is a special series to me, it being my first published series and I love the setting and story. My goal is to write the next three books of the series, closing out the current story arc and setting the stage for the next books. There’s a lot of story to tell, with the Balor, Shadow Lords, and various warlords and pirates to deal with, along with other threats that have yet to manifest. If all goes well, I’ll have the long awaited 7th book out within the next couple of months.

I’ve got some other books coming out later this year, so keep checking back here for more updates. One is the continuation of a series I’ve already released and the other is the start of a collaboration in another setting.

In other news, I’ve started a new position with the Army, which keeps me extremely busy. It’s definitely going to impact my available free time, so my blog posts are likely to drop off a bit as I focus first on the day job, second on family, and third on writing. Everything else after that is going to be more or less as I get time.

That’s all for now, thanks for reading!

Science Fiction, Writing

New Release: Loaned Valor

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My latest novel, Loaned Valor, is now available! Loaned Valor is the 6th book of the Forsaken Valor series and follows William Armstrong as he fights for survival within the Drakkus Empire. https://amzn.to/48WhYLa

I have been a killer, a spy, and an executioner, now I am being sent on a mission of peace.

My name is William Alexander Armstrong. I’ve worked my way up through the Drakkus Imperial Military Institute. I’ve made friends and alliances along the way, and I’ve somehow managed to keep my soul.

Now, though, I’ve received a mission I never would have expected. The Drakkus Imperial Space Korps has sent my friends and I to build an alliance with neighboring star systems. Our ship is on loan, to show the skill and training that Drakkus can provide, even as we gift them ships and weapons. It’s a tall order, because in the past, all that Drakkus has brought has been raiders and chaos.

Even if our offers of peace and alliance are accepted, there are other threats, enemies old and new that have it out not just for the Drakkus Empire, but have personal grudges against me and my friends.

Science Fiction, Writing

Coming Soon: Loaned Valor

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Coming February 2nd, the next Forsaken Valor book!

I have been a killer, a spy, and an executioner. Now I am being sent on a mission of peace.

My name is William Alexander Armstrong.  I’ve worked my way up through the Drakkus Imperial Military Institute.  I’ve made friends and alliances along the way, and I’ve somehow managed to keep my soul.

Now, though, I’ve received a mission I never would have expected.  The Drakkus Imperial Space Korps has sent my friends and I to build an alliance with neighboring star systems.  Our ship is on loan, to show the skill and training that Drakkus can provide, even as we gift them ships and weapons.  It’s a tall order, because in the past, all that Drakkus has brought has been raiders and chaos.

Even if our offers of peace and alliance are accepted, there are other threats, enemies old and new that have it out not just for the Drakkus Empire, but have personal grudges against me and my friends.

If I don’t figure it out, if I don’t work out who to trust and show them that there is a way forward, then I might well find myself in the middle of a war.  A weapon loaned out is one that may come back in enemy hands.