Friday Flash: Space Opera time!

Chuck Wendig is back on the job with our Friday flash fiction challenges, and in honor of May the Fourth commanded us to write a space opera, in 1500 words or less. So, more like a single aria from the opera, but I went for the melodrama of an early Star Trek episode. It's just under 1200 words.

Long Odds

“There’s no way we can win, on the face of it.” Captain Kira Andashar of the Earth Federation Starship Endurance didn’t believe in sugar-coating matters to her officers. “The invaders outnumber us three to one, and based on what they did to EFS Consequence they outgun us by far as well.”

“Should we surrender, then? Or run?” Lieutenant Albert Percival knew better. His captain wasn’t the surrendering sort, and they’d already proved they couldn’t outrun the aliens. When he asked his question he heard a few gasps, and at least one snort of derision. He ignored them and waited for the answer.

“We fight. And dammit,” Captain Andashar raised her voice, “we will win!”

A few young officers cheered, but Percival and his fellow lieutenant, Sharra Stonebrook, exchanged glances. How the devil were they going to do that?

“I hope she has a plan,” Sharra muttered to Albert. “Because I sure as hell don’t see any way.” Knowing what was coming next, the two remained as the other officers followed orders to return to their stations and prepare for battle.

Captain Andashar looked at her lieutenants. “Well? Any ideas?”

Despite the grim circumstances, Albert laughed. “I had a feeling you were going to ask that. To summarize, do I have any ideas how a single starship with suddenly obsolete weapons can defeat three alien ships with weapons we don’t even understand? Short answer: no. Not a clue.”

“Me, neither,” Kara Andashar replied. “But we’re going to need an answer in about 30 minutes, so we’d better start thinking.”

#
Twenty minutes later, the captain was at the con, her officers in place, and all prepared to sell their lives as dearly as possible in the defense of their planetary system. The patrol had a simple sweep of the outer limits of human space. Endeavor and Consequence had expected to turn up nothing, as the sweeps had for three centuries.

There always had to be a first time, Kara thought. She didn’t know she’d said it out loud until Albert answered.

“And unless we get very lucky, it’ll be the last, too.”

“Shut up and prepare for battle.”

Lieutenant Percival considered the controls under his hands. Sharra had the conventional weapons. What he had was the comms unit and control of the thrusters used for take-off and landing. Under his captain’s orders, he was going to turn the latter into a weapon, though if he handled the former right, perhaps they’d not need them.

The alien ships drew closer, and they were truly alien. They looked like a drug-induced hallucination of an octopus. These ships stayed in vacuum. They would be torn apart trying to enter the atmosphere of any planet that could support life.

Sharra said it aloud. “Damnation. If the ships look like that, what do you suppose the aliens look like?”

“The kraken,” Captain Andashar answered. “I don’t want to find out.” She was the only one who had seen the message sent from their sister ship seconds before it was destroyed by the aliens. Now, her face set and grim, she prepared to exact what revenge she could.

She hesitated, then ordered, “Send the message.”

Albert hit the button to send the pre-recorded message. They’d argued a bit over the wording, settling on the straightforward, “You are violating Human Space. Surrender to inspection and penalties for destroying EFS Consequence, or we will be forced to destroy you.” He wondered how they'd respond to that.

His translator flashed almost at once. He flipped a switch, looked at the message—they had decided not to broadcast into the bridge without checking first—and flipped a switch so everyone could hear.

The aliens had responded with a suggestion that was anatomically impossible, at least for humans.

“I don’t think that’s friendly,” was the captain’s comment. “Shields up. Fire photon torpedo across their bows, and send the second warning.” Behind her back she crossed her fingers. Their shields had never been tested. Until now there had been no enemies in space save a few pirates whose limited armament required no special defenses.

The second hail produced a repetition of the middle-finger message. A moment later Endurance shuddered as the photon torpedo launched. They all watched the viewer to see the results. Nothing. The alien ship didn't hesitate. Then a flare of light, and the bridge shook, knocking Lt. Stonebrook from her seat. She gave a yell of pain, but dragged herself back to her seat, fastened the landing straps, and grabbed the weapons controls. Chaos swarmed around her, but she focused her attention on aiming and firing a succession of torpedoes at the same spot on the lead ship.

"Damage report?" Captain Andashar demanded. Reports came in from all over the ship. Damage, but nothing fatal. The chief engineer suggested they could handle a half a dozen strikes before hull breach or loss of controls.

“We’ll never make it!” Captain Andashar couldn’t tell which of her officers yelled it, but she shared the feeling. Nonetheless she commanded, “Silence, there! And stay on your station!”

Now that she could see what the enemy weapons looked like, she began taking evasive action.

“Dammit, Captain!” This time it was Lt. Stonebrook. “How’m I supposed to aim when you do that?”

“Unerringly,” the captain shot back before the next swoop.

Sharra Stonebrook landed two more hits on the prow of the alien ship before the next shot struck Endurance. This one damaged their left thruster. Captain Andashar smiled grimly, and compensated in her next swerve. So did Lt. Stonebrook. Her fourth hit on the alien ship took spectacular effect. The empty space left behind revealed the second vessel.

“Captain! Third ship is at our rear!” The warning startled most of the crew, but Lt. Percival heard it as his signal. Flipping his screen to the rear view, he watched as the alien ship drew closer, ignoring the shouts and alarm bells, and the shudder of another hit on their shields. Through it all, he heard the captain’s quiet voice.

“Let it get close enough, Percival. Don’t panic.”

He let it get so close it almost had its nose up the thrusters, the whole ship shuddering from the repeated attacks on their shields. When he ignited the thrusters, the enemy ship vaporized as Endurance shot forward.

“Brace for impact!”

Sharra Stonebrook was already braced. Ignoring the pain from her injured shoulder, she maintained a steady fire with her torpedoes and blasters as the ships careened toward each other.

The third torpedo took effect. The impact of another enemy shot was followed immediately by the impact of the explosion of the alien ship.

Damage reports flooded in. Kira Andashar picked herself up from where the impacts had flung her, ignoring blood running down her face from a cut on her head.

“Navs! Map a course for the nearest base. Have we power?” The string of reports and commands seemed to last forever. Someone strapped a bandage on her head, but no one left stations except feet first until the ship nosed into the docking station, like her captain bloodied, but unbowed.

###

©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2018
As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated!

Friday Flash: Shuttle Down

This week, Chuck Wendig challenged us all to write 1000 words of Space Opera (in honor of his newly-released Star Wars book, Aftermath). I don't think I hit the "sweeping drama" part of the definition (hard to do in 1000 words), but I went for the cheesy element, and mostly played off of old Star Trek (original) episodes remembered from my youth.

I ran a little over, at 1059 words, including the title.

Shuttle Down

Captain Lee paced the bridge of the Starship Endurance, her face grim. “They’re three hours overdue.” Captain Lee snapped shut her silent communicator as she made the decision. “Stephanovich, you’re in charge here. I’m taking the launch and 20 troopers for a search. Pettra, you’re my second in command.”

The First Lieutenant straightened from his post and dared to argue. “Captain, I would very much like to lead the rescue party. Lt. Carpenter is my friend.”

“All the more reason you stay here. I sent them down, I fetch them back.” There was no room for sentiment in a rescue.

The decision made, Captain Lee moved quickly. Troopers, armed and briefed, filed into the shuttle, strapped down, and prepared for launch. Lee and Pettra took their places as pilot and co-pilot and ran through the pre-launch protocols. Lee punched the com button.

“Shuttle Venture to SS Endurance. Prepared to launch.” The shuttle shot out of the launch bay, and Captain Lee took the controls in her assured grip.

The shuttle coasted smoothly to a landing next to a smaller vessel, the Pequod. The Endurance’s auxiliary shuttle appeared undamaged, with no sign of forced entry. Lee made one more futile attempt to raise Lieutenant Carpenter on the com. Dead or alive, she wasn’t communicating.


“We’re going in.” Captain Lee checked her weapons and strode to the hatch.

The small shuttle remained quiet as they approached, Captain Lee on point. She laid her palm on the sensor, and the shuttle door swooshed open. The craft was empty.

Fanning out around the shuttles, the troops scanned for any hint where the crew had gone. A moment later, a shout went up, and a trooper pointed to a line of footprints, leading neatly away from the shuttle before vanishing in a scuffed area.

Lee and Pettra studied the prints, circling wider to search for the trail outside the mess. A few paces out, Lee stopped, putting up a hand to prevent Pettra from stepping forward. Both officers stared at the gargantuan print that stood out clearly from the mess. It was all too definitely not human.

“Holy horned toads,” Pettra breathed. “I never saw anything that big.” Both officers looked up quickly, scanning the surrounding landscape. Something large lurked out there, and they felt the hairs on the backs of their necks rise.

“Do we follow, Captain?” Lt. Pettra asked quietly, so that none of the troops could hear.

“We have to,” Lee answered as quietly. “Full alert, and follow me,” she ordered more loudly. “Weapons to stun.”

Twenty yards further on, they found the red-shirted crewman flung into the rocks, his neck broken. Another milling mess of footprints revealed that the crew had somehow broken loose and scattered, pursued by several of the large-footed creatures. Lee hesitated, unsure for the moment how to proceed.

A burst of weapon-fire and shouting made the decision easy. At least some of her crew were fighting for their lives nearby. No commands were necessary. She waved the troops into line, and they moved off in the direction of the battle, scrambling up out of the gully to cut a corner and approach from above.

Minutes later, Lee and Pettra peered over a line of rocks. Lt. Carpenter and her remaining crew had dug in behind a large boulder partway up the slope, and were firing at a half dozen large, lizard-like aliens, who seemed to be more irritated than injured by the blasters. Lee issued a series of rapid orders, and her troops opened fire into the aliens, which appeared to be both unarmed and impervious to the spacers' weapons.

Alert to the reinforcements, Carpenter issued her own orders, and her crew began an orderly retreat up the hill toward the captain. Several of the women were limping, and one man was being half-carried by two others. The aliens may not have weapons, but they had clearly taken a toll.

The aliens began to charge the hill, seeing their prey escaping. “Set weapons to kill!” Captain Lee shouted, hoping that would at least slow the creatures. “Pettra! Return to the shuttles with Ensign Fion, and get both opened and ready for take-off! Carpenter,” she continued issuing orders as the original landing party topped the hill, “move them on and get them aboard. Retrieve your fallen. As soon as your shuttle is full, take off. That’s an order!” She barked the final command, seeing the Lieutenant hesitate.

At her tone, Carpenter stiffened and saluted. “Yes, ma’am! Pequod crew! At the double. Jones, can you walk?” The injured man who had been half carried nodded, shook his head, and nodded again. “Right. Smith and Rodriguez, carry him. Drag him if you have to. Move!”

Captain Lee had already turned back to the battle. Two troopers had holstered their weapons and worked to loosen a large boulder that stood on the very brink of the hill. Lee instantly saw what they were doing.

“You, you, and you.” She tapped three troopers. “Help them.”

Minutes later, the boulder crashed down the hill toward the aliens, who scattered. Two of the giant creatures were knocked flying.

Captain Lee didn’t stay to find out if they were dead. “Retreat to the shuttles!” The spacers scrambled down the slope, Lee bringing up the rear. As soon as they hit the bottom of the gully, they picked up the pace to a near sprint, overtaking the slower party of injured spacers. Troopers swept their injured shipmates up, more than half-carrying any who lagged, and streamed into the shuttles.

The larger shuttle had taken off, and the lead alien was gaining on Captain Lee when she leapt through the door of Pequod, slammed down the control to seal the hatch, and Ensign Fion hit the motors. Lee struggled against the motion of the craft to reach the co-pilot’s seat, saw at a glance why they were not rising more quickly, and reached for the heavy blaster controls.

Finally she’d found something that affected the aliens. The monster clinging to the nose of the shuttle fell, a massive hole in its chest. Lee punched the com unit.

“Pequod to Endurance. Prepare to receive shuttles. Venture to enter first. Prepare sick bay for injured.”

“Casualties?” Came Stephanovich’s calm question.

“Minor injuries, I think. The red shirt is dead, as usual. Endurance brings home her own.”

 ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2015

Flash Fiction Friday: Trapped Aboard!

Another Wendig Challenge--a fairy-tale remix.  I had to cheat on this one.  Not only did I pick the fairy tale I wanted (which was within the rules), but I picked the sub-genre I wanted, since I just didn't feel like working with some of them, and had a lot of trouble figuring out how to take the story in other directions.  Then I ran over the 1000-word limit. I managed to cut it back to 1225, but any more and I'll lose the thread of the story.

I don't think the end result needs any explanation as to which tale or what sort of genre I used.

Trapped Aboard

Rapa wandered through the abandoned space station.  Only The Woman, who’d brought her there and hidden her long ago, had known she was there.  Now everyone was gone, and Rapa was trapped aboard.  The Woman had said that she’d come back to take her away.   Rapa didn’t know if she hoped She would come, or not.  She would die if left on the Station, of course.  But.

Rapa had spent a day finding a way out of the hidden room where she’d spent most of her sixteen years.  Then she had explored, as she’d never been able to when she was The Woman’s prisoner.

“You will let me in when I return,” The Woman had commanded before she left.  Rapa wondered if she would.  So many times she had unlocked the storeroom and let her in, these years as a captive.

She had been the tester for all The Woman’s potions and experiments and beauty products, and the only one that had worked was the one that counteracted one odd side-effect of weightlessness, and made her hair grow.  Once, all Spacers were bald, because hair wouldn’t grow in zero G.  Now, most sported close-cropped curls or a modest Mohawk, thanks to The Woman.  Thanks to Rapa. 

Rapa’s own hair dropped to her feet and beyond, or would have if there’d been any gravity to pull it down, rather than floating cloud-like about her.  If there had been gravity, the weight of all that hair might have broken her neck.

Rapa bore the scars of other, less successful efforts to make it big in the beauty industry.  The Woman had grown rich on the one success, and still she kept Rapa.

For years Rapa spoken to no one but The Woman.  When she had escaped her room at night and wandered the station, she had gone in terror of what would happen if she were found.  Now she turned on the comm unit and stared at the newsfeed that came up automatically.  Men and women came and went, talking of worlds unknown to her, but Rapa absorbed it all.

She didn’t know how long she watched, greedily taking in the life she’d never known.  It might have been hours or days.  It stopped because something interrupted the newscast.

The face of a young man came onto the screen, and spoke.  “Space Station Tower 1?  Is someone aboard?”

“Oh!” Rapa gasped.  She knew the man in the box spoke to her.  She was discovered.  The Woman would—

“Someone is there.”  He had heard her gasp.  “Please respond, Tower 1.”

The Woman had taught her to hide, as though it was to make her safe.  Rapa had long known that The Woman was evil and untrustworthy, and she had feared her since she was tiny, but that didn’t make all people evil.  The young man wore a concerned frown, but he looked kind.  “Come in, Tower 1,” he repeated.  “Please turn on the visual?”

“I—I don’t know how,” she said softly.

The man started.  “Who—who are you?”

The Woman had named her Rapunzel after the hair thing worked.  Rapa had shortened the name in her own mind.  “I am Rapa.  Rapunzel,” she added.

He gave a soft whistle.  “Rapunzel. . . and trapped in the Tower.”  He spoke almost as though to himself.  Then, to her, “The switch for Visuals is to the left below the vid screen.  Do you see it?”

She reached out and turned it on.

#

 Aboard the Starship ML King, William Prince drew a sharp breath.  A professional through and through, he schooled himself at once to a calm response and a face that gave nothing away, as he spoke of the need to get a rescue team to her.  But inside, Prince reeled.  So beautiful, and that amazing hair!  But the scars—on her hands, her arms, even her left cheek.  They marred her beauty only to emphasize it.

One thing the girl—Rapa—said jolted him back to full attention.

“She will be back.  The Woman said she would return for me.”

“When?”

“She didn’t say.”  She met his gaze.  “I do not wish to go with her.”

Prince heard himself saying, “I’ll be there first.  I must make preparations.  Leave this channel open, okay?”

She nodded.  “I have to go eat and—and things.”  She crimsoned and he nodded. 

“See the button labeled ‘call’?  If anything happens, press it and call for Starship King.  That’s where I am.”  He touched an emblem on his shirt, which she now understood to be a uniform.  “I’m Lieutenant Prince, William Prince.”

He reached toward the screen, and she could no longer hear him, though she watched him move away, and now she could also see that he was surrounded by other uniformed men and women, all busy.  She left to take care of her needs.

#

“Rapa?  Rapa, please come in.”

“I’m here,” she called eagerly.

“I am aboard the rescue vessel.  We’ll be there in a few hours.”

Tension flowed from the one to the other.  The Tower was scheduled to self-destruct in less than two days.  But Rapa’s mysterious Woman might return even sooner. 

An hour after her last comm with Prince, Rapa found The Woman standing before her.  And she knew that Rapa had revealed herself.  She had overheard the last communication with Prince.

“Come, girl.  We must leave at once.”  Her commands had never been met with anything but instant obedience.

“No.”  Rapa’s refusal stopped The Woman in her tracks.  But Rapa was no match for The Woman, and she knew it.  She turned and fled, but she was far less practiced at propelling herself through the tubes and halls.  Her only hope was to delay long enough for Prince to arrive, and to that end she twisted and dodged.

#

Prince felt a stab of fear when he saw the small vessel docked to the Tower.  The Woman had returned.  Still, she was still aboard.  He wasn’t too late.  Directing his pilot to remain aboard and prevent the other vessel from undocking, Prince left the 3-seater and cycled through the airlock.

He reached the cargo bay in time to see Rapa struggling with a tall, strong woman, who strove to force her into one of the cargo drones.  The long hair that had bound Prince to her from the first glimpse was being used now to imprison her.  She was wound in a cocoon of it.  Prince dove for the pair, tackling The Woman. 

She lashed out at him, slashing his face and his right eye.  Prince screamed in pain and fury, and managed one last, desperate blow that felled The Woman.  Staggering, he caught up Rapa, who shook herself free of her hair.  Together, they reached the cargo bay doors, and passed through.  Rapa closed the doors.  It might gain them a second or two.

“I’m—docked—airlock 2,” Prince managed.  He could see nothing.  His right eye, he was certain, was gone, the left swelling shut.  He let Rapa tow him, and only managed to issue the necessary orders to be readmitted to the rescue shuttle.

He had only one last order to give before he collapsed.  He could feel the soft hair brushing his face as she bent over him, stopping the blood.

“Destroy the other ship.  She must torment Rapa no more.”

###

 

(Just in case anyone wonders: Rapunzel, and Space Opera)

©Rebecca M. Douglass 2014