『Sci-Fi Signals』のカバーアート

Sci-Fi Signals

Sci-Fi Signals

著者： Daniel P. Douglas
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The frontier doesn't care who you are. Pilots, criminals, soldiers, drifters, heroes, villains, and everyone in between. Everyone's got a story, and none of them are clean. Sci-Fi Signals is a series of standalone short stories about the people who live, fight, and die on the edge of known space.

authordanielpdouglas.substack.comDaniel P. Douglas
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  • The Last Honest Fuel Stop

    The Last Honest Fuel Stop
    2026/08/02

    Podcast Episode Summary

    What is independence worth when the company holds the lease on everything, including the truth? Juno Duvall spent twenty years flying freight for Galleon Consolidated and converted every credit of it into Stonefist Station, the only fuel depot for six transit days in any direction, population one. Then a shot-up courier limps onto her docking clamp carrying Chiyo Solis, a wounded medic with a sealed container mag-locked to her thigh: proof that a mining colony full of families is being poisoned by the company’s own extraction method, sealed off and rebranded as a quarantine.

    Soon behind her comes Inspector Ronin, a compliance officer with a clean suit, a polite smile, and the authority to take Juno’s license, her station, and the first thing that was ever hers. The gun on Juno’s hip stays holstered. The deadliest thing on the station turns out to be a log archive that uploads whether anybody lives to hear it or not. A gritty sci-fi space western about what honesty costs on a frontier where the company owns the paper, the fuel, and the air, and one operator who decides it doesn’t own the record.

    Thanks for listening to Sci-Fi Signals. Be sure to check out The Intelligence Bulletin from Author Daniel P. Douglas on Substack for more podcasts, written articles, and links to all my books. And remember, fly smart and stay sharp. The frontier doesn’t give second chances.

    Voices provided by Spoken AI



    This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit authordanielpdouglas.substack.com
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    17 分
  • Podcast - Thirty-One Percent

    Podcast - Thirty-One Percent
    2026/07/11

    Podcast Episode Summary

    How much is a human life worth when the ledger says zero? Agent Quist is a reclamation specialist for Ardent Holdings, a company that doesn't accept excuses, only assets. Her latest assignment: repossess a Series 9 water reclaimer from a dying colony on the edge of known space. Without it, the nine residents of Sennet’s Reach won’t last a week. Quist soon discovers the 'delinquency' isn't an accident; it's a manufactured theft designed by the company to liquidate a desperate world. When a corporate enforcer arrives to ensure the job gets done, Quist faces a choice that will cost her everything. In the lawless frontier, justice isn't found in a courtroom. It's found in the remaining 31 percent of a water tank. A gritty, high-stakes sci-fi space western thriller about the price of a conscience in a galaxy owned by corporations.

    My special thanks to Midsummerr - AI Audio Production Platform for providing the voices, music, and sound effects for this episode.

    Thanks for listening to Sci-Fi Signals. Be sure to check out The Intelligence Bulletin from Author Daniel P. Douglas on Substack for more podcasts, written articles, and links to all my books. And remember, fly smart and stay sharp. The frontier doesn’t give second chances.



    This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit authordanielpdouglas.substack.com
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    14 分
  • Kulvir Unleashed

    Kulvir Unleashed
    2026/06/06
    KULVIR SAKATA COUNTED his breaths the way he always did before a breach and board. Four in, four hold, four out. He’d learned it somewhere that no longer existed, in a life he no longer claimed. He did it now on principle, because the alternative was to stop counting and let something else take over.The boarding tunnel pressurized with a sound like a chest cavity being opened.“Thirty seconds,” Captain Sela said over comms. Her voice was flat the way a blade was flat. Precise. Clean. Not the absence of feeling, just the containment of it. Kulvir had worked under seven different crew leads in eleven years. None of them talked like Sela. None of them made him feel like the work was worth finishing.“Copy,” Bando said, at Kulvir’s left shoulder. She was twenty-three, hair pulled back tight, and her face did something every time a breach was imminent, a kind of brightening, like combat switched on a light behind her eyes that nothing else reached. She went toward it the way some people went toward music.“Copy,” Herrick said, at Kulvir’s right. He was broad enough across the shoulders that he blocked the corridor light when he moved up, a big rough-framed man who had learned to hate this work and kept doing it anyway.Three more behind them. Six total, under contract to a farming colony called Relicos, three systems out from anything that mattered. The clients had called it a contract dispute. Kulvir called it what it was.The Stygian Duster ship had tried to run when Sela’s privateer cut across its vector, a converted ore hauler called Greymantle, slow and heavy with the wrong cargo. The privateer’s gunner put two rail slugs into its drives before it could build speed, a precision shot, economical and final, the kind that came from someone who had stopped needing to think about it. Greymantle coasted now, venting atmo from a secondary port, guns still live but the crew already knowing how this ended.The tunnel clacked. The hatch unsealed.“Move,” Sela said.Kulvir moved.The first corridor was dark, lit red by Greymantle’s emergency strips. Smoke from the drive damage hung in a low ceiling above them, and the deck vibrated underfoot in a way that meant the atmo scrubbers were losing ground. The smell was recycled air gone stale, charred insulation, and underneath both of those the thin copper bite of blood, recent enough to still be warm.Kulvir went left at the first junction, Bando on his flank. Two Stygian Dusters came around the corner with weapons raised and Kulvir put them down, two blaster bolts each, center mass. He was already moving past them before they hit the deck.Not fast. Not slow. Just efficient.That was the thing people misread about him. They saw the outcome and assumed there had been violence. What there had been was geometry. Angles and timing and the knowledge that hesitation was its own kind of cruelty.“Three hostiles, forward bay,” Sela said. She was running a parallel corridor, feeding the crew positioning from Greymantle’s own sensor net. She’d pulled the access codes from the Relicos colony records. The Dusters had used the same codes for two years. Nobody had bothered to change them.“I see them,” Herrick said.The forward bay was a staging area, crates of extracted ore stacked along the walls, some still marked with colonial lot numbers that had no business on a Duster ship. The Stygian Dusters had bled Relicos dry, collecting protection money and delivering nothing, not protection, not peace, just the slow drain of people who had no other options. The ore was the proof. Evidence nobody would ever process, because there was no authority out here to process it.That was why people like Kulvir existed.The three hostiles broke cover before the team was fully through the door. Kulvir took the first with a bayonet strike to the throat and used the man’s momentum to put him into the second. The third raised a scatter pistol and Kulvir stepped inside the barrel’s arc, close enough to feel the heat when it discharged past his shoulder and broke the man’s wrist with a short downward strike. Sidearm. Disarm. Step. Fire.Three seconds. Maybe four.“Clear,” he said.“Crew quarters next,” Sela said. “Sakata, on me.”Kulvir fell in beside her at the corridor junction. For a moment, before they moved, she glanced at him sideways. Not an assessment. She didn’t need to assess him. It was something else, something closer to acknowledgment, the way two people who have worked in the dark together for long enough learn to see each other without needing light.Kulvir said nothing. He was good at saying nothing.The crew quarters were three compartments off a central passage. Sela took point on the first. Kulvir had the second. Herrick and Bando took the third.The Duster in Kulvir’s compartment was already on his feet, holding a colonist boy, maybe ten years old, against his chest with a blade at the kid’s throat. The boy was rigid with the terror of ...
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    14 分
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