Slips

Checks completed. Everything’s clear. The battlecrusier can exit hyperspace without
a problem and cruising speed is initiated. Three pure energy torpedo’s are following
close behind though, able to escape the scanning arrays intentions. The first two
slam into the hull. One of them weakens, the other opens up. The last one slips the
gap, detonates deep in the engine core. The back-end begins to disintegrate rapidly
and a shambling wreck appears on the other side.

Red alerts send crew members madly scrambling. Status updates are ever constant, ever
changing. Solutions are proposed, shot again and proposed again. Best case scenarios
are being formulated. The hopes for them cannot be said to be high.

Those sounds the hull is making. Those left know what they mean. No need to wait for
calculations. The ship is being rended apart by gravity aided by heat. The ship is so
vast that it won’t be quick but it can’t be stopped. The point of finality has been
crossed. There’s only time for last-minute prayers, fractured communications.

The ship continues to break up. Escaping flames leave red stains along the sky. Falling
metal forms quicksilver streaks the lacerate the clouds. It all comes tumbling down,
into one great flash of light, everything all lost in white.

Whatever remains of the wind drags dull colourless leaves down empty streets and
through empty dwellings. The levitation in ruins still sits there, growing
a little more rusty every year.

~~~

It just comes crashing down sometimes. Music listened to as I wrote this:

More Yuuhei. And that’s always a good thing.

Perpetual/Connection/Lonely/Sleep

Days and nights have become nothing more than a slog. Well that’s not
entirely true. The last night has been a slog. Its been so long since
I’ve been planet side I’m not sure the day night cycle still exists.
Out here it just seems like perpetual night. Counting the stars
provides something of a distraction.

The bright burn of a jet stream. First one I’ve seen in a while.
It suddenly freezes, then vanishes. God speed fellow traveler. And
that’s a timely reminder. I should check my own jump co-ordinates.
Can’t be too far away now.

The fuel gauge has taken a dive. There’s enough to make it to the nearest
station so that’s pretty good. Hopefully I should be able to purchase and/or
barter for fuel. If not, well, I’m all out-of-pocket.

~~~

My docking request is working its way through the station. It’s
quite possible that it’s taking sometime to be accepted. So I’m
just floating around watching the notches on the ship’s fuel gauge slip away.

People willing to trade, couldn’t really find them. Aliens willing to trade.
Well, I was surrounded by symbols I couldn’t possibly identify trying to
communicate with a guy, four arms and eyes, armour plated. Yet, through a
series of seemingly impossible gestures I came out with fuel and he a nice amount
of compensation. Always nice to make a connection.

There’s a little delay before the console bleeps into life. I double-check the
flight path and see if any adjustments can be made. The engines fire up and it’s
reassuring to hear that noise again. The landing gear clicks into place and it’s
about that time, to head off into that deep black star strewn void.

~~~

I haven’t seen another ship since departing the station. But the scanners
inundated with debris signals, so the shields are warming up. But that’s
all that’s out there. Just another lonely stretch of space. You really have
to make friends out of these. It’s the only way to get by out here.

Remnants of a fighter. The wings a short distance away. Then the rest of it,
strung out over a blue-green nebula. A disemboweled cruiser lies ahead, light
from the gas cloud floods through the hollow. It’s quicker to fly through rather
than round. The other side presents a ship graveyard, left to rest in this
silent aftermath.

Every wreckage is a story. Of lasers carving up cockpits. Of chain guns mutilating
engines. Torpedo’s rupturing pod bay doors. And…well, that’s new.Like a thousand
tiny maws chewed the hull wide open. No sense in hanging around. Lets go.

~~~

Two. Three. Five more come into view. Jet streams burning bright all heading to the same point. I’m almost there. I must be. The console confirms it. This journey marked by its vastness. It’s done. I’ve made it. I’ve made it.

It ain’t much. Just two space traders swapping nods. But by the angles you can tell it’s an connection between two long haulers, an appreciation of those vast distances crossed. Behind us droids and power armour wearers unload cargo. Once that’s delivered, it’s payday. Tis a good day.

Sleep that exists in the context of the day night cycle. Food that is
actually food and not a mess of some freeze-dried deep field stuff. Being
able to sit around and not be on constant alert for pirates. Free from the
tyranny of fuel gauges and star charts. Things to look forward to. I’ll get
the urge to go out again but right now, I’ll rest. For a little while.

~~~

Last four posts all in one. Music listened while copying and pasting.

God it’s good. So good.

Sleep

Two. Three. Five more come into view. Jet streams burning bright all heading to the same point. I’m almost there. I must be. The console confirms it. This journey marked by its vastness. It’s done. I’ve made it. I’ve made it.

It ain’t much. Just two space traders swapping nods. But by the angles you can tell it’s an connection between two long haulers, an appreciation of those vast distances crossed. Behind us droids and power armour wearers unload cargo. Once that’s delivered, it’s payday. Tis a good day.

Sleep that exists in the context of the day night cycle. Food that is
actually food and not a mess of some freeze dried deep field stuff. Being
able to sit around and not be on constant alert for pirates. Free from the
tyranny of fuel gauges and star charts. Things to look forward to. I’ll get
the urge to go out again but right now, I’ll rest. For a little while.

~~~

Space journey comes to an end. Music I listened to as I wrote this:

What? It’s good.

Lonely

I haven’t seen another ship since departing the station. But the scanners
inundated with debris signals, so the shields are warming up. But that’s
all that’s out there. Just another lonely stretch of space. You really have
to make friends out of these. It’s the only way to get by out here.

Remnants of a fighter. The wings a short distance away. Then the rest of it,
strung out over a blue-green nebula. A disemboweled cruiser lies ahead, light
from the gas cloud floods through the hollow. It’s quicker to fly through rather
than round. The other side presents a ship graveyard, left to rest in this
silent aftermath.

Every wreckage is a story. Of lasers carving up cockpits. Of chain guns mutilating
engines. Torpedo’s rupturing pod bay doors. And…well, that’s new.Like a thousand
tiny maws chewed the hull wide open. No sense in hanging around. Lets go.

~~~

Music listened to as I wrote this:

Funk.

Connection

My docking request is working its way through the station. It’s
quite possible that it’s taking sometime to be accepted. So I’m
just floating around watching the notches on the ship’s fuel gauge slip away.

People willing to trade, couldn’t really find them. Aliens willing to trade.
Well, I was surrounded by symbols I couldn’t possibly identify trying to
communicate with a guy, four arms and eyes, armour plated. Yet, through a
series of seemingly impossible gestures I came out with fuel and he a nice amount
of compensation. Always nice to make a connection.

There’s a little delay before the console bleeps into life. I double-check the
flight path and see if any adjustments can be made. The engines fire up and it’s
reassuring to hear that noise again. The landing gear clicks into place and it’s
about that time, to head off into that deep black star strewn void.

~~~

More space stuff. I’m having fun with it.

Music listened to as I wrote this:

Never enough Yuuhei.

Perpetual

Days and nights have become nothing more than a slog. Well that’s not
entirely true. The last night has been a slog. Its been so long since
I’ve been planet side I’m not sure the day night cycle still exists.
Out here it just seems like perpetual night. Counting the stars
provides something of a distraction.

The bright burn of a jet stream. First one I’ve seen in a while.
It suddenly freezes, then vanishes. God speed fellow traveler. And
that’s a timely reminder. I should check my own jump co-ordinates.
Can’t be too far away now.

The fuel gauge has taken a dive. There’s enough to make it to the nearest
station so that’s pretty good. Hopefully I should be able to purchase and/or
barter for fuel. If not, well, I’m all out of pocket.

~~~

Space travel and ships and stuff.

Music listened to as I wrote this:

Yuuhei is life, Yuuhei is love.

Sycamore

What were those things called again…sycamore seeds? That sounds familiar.
They tumbled down from the trees as twin wings. You would gather as many as
possible and then snap them into two at the base. Then they would be flung
sky ward and they would catch the breeze and spin down, and downwards in
tight spirals just waiting to crash to earth.

The lasers have burnt the shield out, and the gatling cannons have chewed
up the hull and relived the opposition ship of an engine. The other engine
just keeps on going and sends the ship spinning down, and downwards in a tight
spiral.
Just like the sycamore seeds from those yonder days.

~~~

Something shorter today. Far easier to draft as well.

Music listened to as I wrote this:

Good stuff.

Stutters

The console stutters into life. I just want to check the data I’ve recovered
lately. But a signal source flares up and it’s within traveling distance. I’m
not short of time and this seems to be worth investigating.

It seems like it’s a capital ship. Looks like a cruiser, maybe a freighter.
There’s a logo emblazoned across the hull. It looks somewhat official, if nothing
else. A hailing frequency brings no response. The ships just hanging here in space,
the engines seemingly idle. There’s no external damage, but there’s something a miss.

Just going home is still an option.

The hum of machinery is amplified by the curious absence of human activity. I can’t
see any signs of struggle, evacuation or any number of alternatives. I can see the
ships layout and therefore can plot a path to the bridge. Seems to be the best place
to find answers.

Cleaning droids still follow their assigned paths but that’s all that’s moving here.
I find a radio port and send out a hello. Nothing comes back. The bridge is getting
near. Maybe I’ll find those answers I’m looking for.

Leaving and going home it still an option. No one knows you’ve been here.

The door to the bridge slides open. Stations and terminals bleep away aimlessly. None
of them appear to be broken. A side from a complete lack of crew, there’s nothing
a miss. A sense of the surreal clings to the ships interior.

For a brief moment I consider walking back the way I came. But there’s a knocking at
the far side of the room door. It’s at constant intervals, yet the knocks themselves
are irregular as if being struck at different points and angles.

You can still go home. Remember that.

It’s only a cleaning droid. Its been gimped in someway. The movement is consistent
with the other droids yet subtly off. One of the tracks is wonky which means on the
turns, a collision with door is inevitable. Under the circumstances, it’s more than
a little unsettling.

A corridor broke into three. At that point, my journey had always been across, level
and up. So by virtue of that I took the route of the ladder. The air down here feels
heavy, turgid on the back of the throat.

Just leave here. There’s still time for that.

Another cleaning droid. All alone. Spinning in tight circles in the rooms centre.
A low-pitched whirring emanates from it, a bizarre noise that turns in on itself.
Anxiety builds.

I reach for my breathing apparatus. A smell spills into the hallway. Combined with
the malfunctioning droid it bathes this space in dissonance. Anxiety swells.

Just get out of here. Nothing good will come of this.
But, being honest, I’m too far gone for that.

A burning sensation. In my mouth. Up in my nostrils. I throw down my breathing
kit. Splashes of green land on the red splattered floor. The stench of my own vomit
combines with everything else and I tumble-down. One corner of the room is stacked
with arms. Another piled high with legs. The far corner is adorned with faces, some
still staring outwards, others eyes shut forever more. The last corner, just bits,
assorted parts that don’t fit into bodies anymore.

The torso’s are nailed to the four walls. I can’t keep it down, and more vomit
comes up. There will be more to come.

I could have gone home before this. I should have gone home.

The path I didn’t take. There’s constant squelching underfoot. The feeling is
far beyond unpleasant. Dried blood marks the walls, along with laser burn. Bodies
are on the ground. These still have limbs. The others must have been revenge kills
for resisting. It’s the only thing I can think of.

There’s more bodies. Along with broken tables and smashed in terminals. And droids
who won’t be cleaning up anymore. I still don’t know who did this. And my urge to
find out just isn’t here.

Back where I came in. Thinking back to that room, my stomach relinquishes what’s
left of its contents. The smell lingers. It’s not going to leave me. Maybe
ever.

I’m going home now. But it’s too late now. I’ve seen things now.

~~~

This is the first time I’ve tried writing horror. So there’s going to be thing wrong with this. Perhaps lots of things. Feedback appreciated.

What I listened to as I wrote this:

Gabe and Yahtzee play Myst. It’s fun. Them playing it mind, not the game itself.