Drop into Hell (l)

They say the smaller the ship, the worse the drop…

Zoe despised that saying.

Tracing the scars and ink that lined her body was the only way she could keep her sanity and breakfast.  Plummeting way too fast, way too far, in a shit show planet jumper.  Every scratch and scrape has a story with it, every line, shape, shade speaks to her as she runs her fingers over her fore arms.  Her skin the medium for a tale filled with hardship and pain, struggles and successes.  There weren’t a lot of reminders for that last one. The ship rattle and the pilot bellowed something about passing through another layer of Mortuus’s atmosphere.  Zoe didn’t pay much heed to him.  He was a large man, dark skin and shaved head.  Respectful enough, as least as far Zoe’s usual company go.  More rattling. Leaning her head back and closing her eyes, Zoe tried to recall what she has heard Mortuu’s, the biggest and baddest of the Three Brothers.  It was a hot miserable hole for the most part.  The major cities were all right, as long as you stayed off the ground and kept your nose clean.  Home to the largest mining and manufacturing operations in the system.  All that mining has lead to innumerable archaeological finds, which then are dug up, knocked down and generally ruined much to the dismay of the collegiates on Viridis.  The locals weren’t too thrilled about it either.  This led to obvious conflict of interests.  Also led to a lot of job opportunities for people like Zoe.

“Were going to hit some turbulence!”

“Turbulence?  What the hell have we been falling through?” Zoe yelled over the ruckus of the ship.

As soon as the words left Zoe’s lips, the ship shook, uncontrollably and spastically.  Items that weren’t tied or bolted down went flying in all directions.  Zoe was tossed against her harnessed.  Something hard and metallic crashed in her temple, causing Zoe to gasp out in pain. She was woozy for a moment, but it passed just as the shaking concluded.  The ship settled into a smooth decent.

“Smoothed saying from here! Touchdown in 5!” The pilot called back a little joyously for Zoe’s taste.

Reaching up to the fresh cut on her forehead, winces as she pulls away, her fingers dabbled in blood. “Great”

Welcome to the Maw

I spied the masses exit from umbilical cords tethered to iron gargantuans, the looks on their faces telling the new from the regulars or locals. I remember my first time coming to the Maw, or as the politically correct term would be, Parvula Prime Spaceport.  I was 5, mom and dad thought a change of scenery would be good for the family after dad lost his job.  My dad was an engineer, or that’s what my mother told me whenever I asked.  I never did find out what he actually did.  Anyways, when they announced over the intercom that we were entering Parvula Prime Spaceport airspace, the ring of monitors that relayed images from the outside into the seating area flickered to life.  I will never forget the images.  Giant metallic leviathans floating gracefully against the dark starscape.  Among them smaller ships darted in between the massive hulls.  Jagged structures jutted out from the sides of the giant crater that the spaceport was built into.  Teeth of some terrible monster they looked like through my young eyes.  I looked down and saw at the bottom of the crater the pool of molten rock and metal, glowing feverishly red.  It terrified me, and I cried out and clutched my mother.  She smelled like vanilla.  The smell still soothes me to this day.  She hushed me and said to be brave.  And sniffled and sneaked a look back outside.  We were slowing down, preparing to be mounted by and extended tentacle that reached from the glistening white teeth of the Maw.  Everything gets a little blurry after that, I’m pretty sure I fell asleep, still clutching my mother, her scent driving me to slumber.

Crashing back from my recollection, I lift my cigarette back to my mouth and take one more final drag before throwing to the ground and stomping it out.  As I walk away I hear the sound of maintenance bots scuttling out to clean up my still smoldering butt.  I take a turn and head down a maintenance shaft.  When you have been living on your own for the better part of 20 years, you learn the fastest, least traveled routes quickly.  They’re winding and narrow, but great when you need to get some where in hurry, and don’t want to deal with the crowds. They are also great for ambushes.  

Three men where waiting for me as I took another right.  I stopped, and heard the sound of another drop behind me, fucking magnetic climbing gear for ya.  That’s what I get for being lax today.  

“What do you clowns want?”

The biggest of the three, replied in gravely voice, “You owe King money, were here to get it for him”

“You aren’t the usually fucks he sends to do his dirty work, you must be new.  How long have you been in the Maw?”

“None of your fucking business.  Money.  Now.  Or else.” Heavy emphasis on the or else.

“If you’re going to try and beat me with and inch of my life, you could at least answer my question.”

“Less than 24 hours, Now you have three seconds to cough up the…” 

Cutting him off, “I don’t have the money, so you’re just going to have to try to beat me”

All roaring, the trio rushed me.  I could hear the sounds of the fourths boots clacking on the floor as he charged as well.  Implants kicked in, flooding system with adrenaline and other stimulants.  Cybernetics increased my rate of perception, so the 3 attackers I could see slowed down to half their speed.  The largest one was also the fastest apparently, because he reached my first.  One sidestep, one fist to the lower rib cage,  three broken ribs, one punctured lung, flies about three feet into the wall, and he crumples.  He won’t be getting back up.  The one to big guys right wasn’t nearly as luck as he got a blow right to the face.  Probably a completely shattered jaw, maybe even some shards of bone in his brain if he’s really unlucky.  The next one, foot to the knee, knee to the head, falls to the ground, most likely dead.  I feel metal strike my back.  I guess I was to slow disposing of the first three.  If I wasn’t more metal than man, it might have done something.  But that hasn’t been the case in years.  I spin around and face my attacker.  I can see his mouth beginning to form the word no,  but I drive my skull into his before he can get to the “O”.  He falls limp to the ground.

Everything begins to return to normal as the stimulants wear off and cybernetics disengage.  Reaching into one of my pockets, I pull out a lighter and cigarette, relics in this day and age.  Lighting up I take a long pull, and spit on the bodies littering the space around me.

“Welcome to the Maw. Hope you enjoy your stay.”

Guys(Check it out)

So while sitting in o chem lecture today, I drew this doodle and I was struck with a massive load of inspiration.  The doodle(which I was fairly proud of) was of 3 planets orbiting each other.  They were surround by a debris belt with a debris cloud in the center of the 3.  I call them “The 3 Brothers”.  I plan on writing short stories describing life in The 3 Brothers.  I’ve been wanting to flex my fiction writing muscles for a while now, and think this might me what I have been waiting for.  And maybe once I have a good environment/background for the “3Bro” I might ask some of you to write a story for it!  So, good idea?  Still deciding on what to tag em with. I’m thinking #talesfrom3Brothers or maybe #tf3Bro or maybe something else.  Suggestions?