Forging ahead with fictional endeavours: ~ Write a life on a page and hurry not to its grave; abhor not the coming age, for eternal is the next page. ~ Read what you will, I hope you will enjoy reading as much as I do writing.

Posts tagged ‘science fiction’

Space Junk

crashlandingToday’s writing challenge is Monday’s Finish the Story. This is my first time trying this one but I quite like the extra element the combination of prompts gave me. This one combines the use of a photo prompt and an opening que (the quote below).  The two managed to spark off a bit of inspiration regarding a plot I was playing with a few months ago.

Racing down into the atmosphere, the unidentified object crashed, leaving behind one heck of a huge crater and a plume of smoke that could be seen from miles around.

Adrian kicked his way out of the ship wreck. “Damn Gillian. He’s outfitted me with space junk!” Adrian climbed out into the breathable atmosphere, jumping off the research pod. Forehead pressed into palm of his hand, he muttered “I can’t believe I was knocked out orbit by a stray satellite.” He would never live this down. With a curse, he kicked the craft, taking small satisfaction in the metallic clang. Taking a deep breath he thought, ‘Calm down. Take stock.’ The fumes needed to clear before he could salvage anything. It was fortunate he had sent off an S.O.S before he took a nosedive. Uncertain of when a rescue would occur his next port of call was survival. Spinning around to assess what the locale had to offer he became aware with a sickening jolt that he was not alone. A sword greeted his throat. “So much for no contact.”


There will always be technology


This one is for Sunday photo fiction. Mild social comment on my part, heh.

The aged curator shuffled about the museum exhibits, leading the tour group with shaky monotone repetition of information. Banefully, he eyed a young couple, giving a disapproving harrumph at the girl’s shrill, incessant giggle. The young girl was pointed a little too excitedly at an ancient piece of space-tech. She made a passing remark to her male companion about ancestral technology that made the curator frown. The curator was not alone in this; his expression mirrored on the little-too symmetrical face of the young man. The reason became very clear when the apparent teen responded with ‘Don’t compare me to that pathetic technology.” To this the girl pouted and pulled her android companion into a wilful embrace. The android flirtatiously tickled the girl in response, causing peels of laughter to reverberate about the large hall, causing annoyed stares all around. Ilshrine shot the pair a reproachful look and made a loud shushing sound, before returning to his duties was a shake of his head. There was one thing Ilshrine knew for certain. Teens still had an unhealthy obsession with technology.

Getaway: Picture it an Write challenge

Picture it and write challenge courtesy of Ermilia.  This time the picture actually inspired an excerpt of my recent short sci-fi/action story ‘Freedom’, sadly though the actual short story is no where near this stage in the plot yet. 🙂

Zale fell headlong into Payce as the shock waves buffeted the small aircraft. Payce reflexively pushed Zale upright and leapt into the co-pilot seat. Regent had been injured in the blast and was slumped over the controls like a sack of grain. “Check Regent!” Payce shouted, as he struggled to regain control of the craft against the turbulent atmosphere. There were already signs of emergency response crafts arriving at the scene. Pursuit was sure to follow. Zale leant over Regent, checking for a pulse while gentle checking the head wound. “How’s he doing?” Payce asked, the concern in his tone evident despite his unbroken focus on flying their getaway craft. “His pulse is strong, and near as I can tell it’s just a gash, but we better get a medic check him over soon,” Zale responded as he lifted the larger man out of the pilots seat with difficulty. “Oi, careful! I’m going to have do some fancy flying here,” Payce warned, as the screens filled with warning signals.

“All the more reason for me to put him in a harness. Besides, I can’t operate the weapons with his useless arse blocking the controls,” Zale responded as he shouldered the cumbersome frame of their unconscious pilot, dragging him to the passenger bay. Zale hefted Regent’s dead weight into a harness, strapping him in securely before bolting back to the pilots seat to strap himself in. “Can’t this retrofitted piece of junk go any faster?” Payce asked with a frustrated curse. Zale hammered at his controls, deploying a few toys designed to confound the sensors of the crafts behind them. “It was only designed for passenger escort, not quick getaways from armed crafts!” Zale responded in consternation. “That should give us a head start, head for the waste plant; we’ll loose them in the radiation.”

“Got it!” Payce replied, jerking the controls to swiftly alter their destination.

“Hey, Payce…” Zale said thoughtfully as he kept a watchful eye on the screens in front of him. It looked like the patrols had split off in different directions. “Yeah?” Payce asked with a quick glance in Zale’s direction, not once loosening his grip on the controls. Zale bit into his thumbnail, had it been flesh he would have drawn blood. “I’m fairly certain there’s a mole.” Zale turned his attention to Payce, trying gage the younger man’s reaction. The usually friendly features were sombre, and deeply furrowed into a frown. After a pause, Payce raised a finger to his lips in a age old signal for silence. From the hold Zale could hear movement indicating Regent had regained conciousness. Mirroring Payce’s expression, Zale nodded in silent understanding. Trust no one.

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