alohamarsstory

    Charred.    An oldie drifted through his head. He grinned."Gotta have a friend in Jesus."    The three men, looming over their recently captured prisoner, looked at one another questioningly. Frustrated, the taller one slammed his thick boot heel into his captive's right temple, tearing a gash into the flesh. The detainee collapsed, sprawling out on the long grass. Blood trickled from the wound, and dripped upon the ground where it puddled, and caked.    Just in time for the fireworks.    Two sonic booms, mere faint thumps high up in the sky, sounded in rapid succession.    His smile stretched from ear to ear. "That thing yer ho

     War.      CC-NDF Orbital Patrol 2, Day 4689.      "Admiral...Admiral Fitzpatrick to command..." blared the ship speaker, interrupting the relative silence of the OC cabin. A partially empty bottle tumbled lazily around the room, its former contents drifting in small spheres nearby.      *     *     *      He opened hatch to bridge. Dark. Can't see. Blinking lights. Someone walked up. They're shouting. They look funny shouting.      "SSSiiirrr, wwweee nnneeeeeeddd ooorrrdddeeerrrsss!!!"      He laughed. Can't help it. 'Orders' is a funny word.      "SSSiiirrr!!! TTThhheeeyyy'rrreee cccooommmiiinnnggg!!! III cccaaannn'ttt rrreeeaaac

     War.     CC-NDF Orbital Patrol 2, Day 1.     "...and you are my eyes, and my ears. I'm counting on you all to do your duties with the pride I see in your eyes at this very moment, for as long as we are ordered to do so. You fifteen fine, young men; best of the best; and the other 300 men and women aboard this ship, and the thousands aboard the rest of the fleet; we are all part of a well oiled machine, protecting the good workers of Mercury."     15 eager young men in spotless navy-blue uniforms stood in a neat line, eagerly at attention with their chins held high. Their pride was obvious at their newly commissioned roles aboard OP

     Bang.     "That girl really knows her stuff, Ben." quipped the coverall-adorned mechanic, scrolling through the departure schedules of vessels, covering several months. The man being spoken to let out a booming chuckle, quite literally filling the smallish cockpit. The glowing touchpanels, combined with the dim red lights, were the only lighting in the room, aside from the stars outside the window.     "Red's my best, dontcha know!" He stroked his full-length black beard, eyes shining with unnatural happiness. "Now, now... pick one. A big one. We have mouths to feed, Affleck!" His companion mumbled a response, as Ben strode out of th

     Intentions.     "Hun.. no no.. hun... hun, that's definately a cargo ship... Okay, slow down. Slow down. Slow. SLOW! Don't! Slow dowCRKKKKKScccreeeeee.     *     *     *     "No, no, no. Come on, darlin', I told you how to do this!" He grinned, giving her a peck on the lips. "Let gravity work for you. Let it slide!" She giggled, squirming in her lengthy red dress. It was a perfect match to her brightly coloured hair.     "Your dad would kill us if he knew we were taking this for a ride. He might kick you from your new promotion!" She smiled sweetly, the type of smile that makes the most well intentioned man on the red planet comm

      Tattered.      A CD player sang in the background of a dirty tent, which was home to thirty-odd men.      Monday gonna take a ride on,      The N-Train down to Coney Island,      With the money I saved,      Gonna get me engraved      Tables were arranged in two rows of ten, with pots and bowls filled with a grey, gunky sort of liquid complimented by a thin mold-stained slice of bread. Neither was fit for any sort of mammal specie; however, when a man was hungry, he would eat just about anything. Such was the case, as these men were gourging themselves as if it were the best meal of their life. Judging by the assortment of f

Newfound.     "Aint it beautiful?" The lanky freighter captain grinned at his crew member while tilting his head to indicate the passing planet. He leaned back to rest his feet on the console ahead of him. Chewing the inside cheek with his teeth, he thought to himself, 'Greenear. He best know his way through an engine.' There was no slang in this gnarled fellow's voice or thought, he was simply not concerned with being proper. Nor understood, for the most part.     He glanced around his beloved bridge. It was a square-shaped room in a perpetually grungy and unkempt state, with various pipes and wires protruding from the bulkheads at uneve