Dumb Death


I already knew the space was vast and big to the point that brain could not process the amount of such thought, but this was something else. We found ourselves right in the middle of the void that was surrounded by colorful nebulas, shiny space mist, bright stars and an empty dark that froze our bones whenever we would look at it. Jefferson said it could be a black hole and that it was too far away to have any influence on us, but none the less, we were afraid of that thing.

Our daily thoughts raced back and forward from worries about that “emptiness”, to the other problems such as: not enough fuel, busted engine, broken wall of the tunnel that led to a storage capsule. We had to seal that compartment, secure it with a silicon foam to make sure we are not leaking any oxygen into the space. As time went by, our suspicion of an attack was rising. Braoury cohorts were out there, searching for those that escaped the certain death in battle. Their sonic-fighters were patrolling the quadrant jump-mile by jump-mile, making us grow restless and edgy.

– We need to get out and fix the cannons. Stats are showing concerning decrease of power in the left crane. Take the gear and head out. I will tell you what to do. – Jefferson spoke in the radio, then he turned and started to conduct diagnostics on the ship systems.

In a minute, robots built my suit, connected all the parts and tightened them to a desired volume. Gearbox was conveniently attached for my chest and rifle joined the exoskeleton.

– I’m out. – I said, – The hole is still there. – my eyes automatically went for the void, but the rustling in the ear turned me around, – Tunnel is still closed, but the solar panels are bent. Call for Jack and Mira to fix those. Maybe we are losing power because of the panels. It could be that they are not receiving enough light.

– Roger. I’ll send them right away. Have you got to the rear cannons? – Jefferson asked, looking in the broad holographic visor where our long distant radio showed emptiness of signals and absence of life in the parameter.

– Yeah, I just stepped on the main cannon. Wiring is completely busted man. Those faggots kicked us hard. Look at this fucking shit. – I badly handled the tentacle of the pulse cannon, then a part broke off, – Aaah, for fuck sake. They used chembombs on our asses. I bet, a frickin’ banana could cut this metal with nothing to stop it. My God, look at this damn thing… Dude, we have to cut off our weapons, maybe all the way to the main capsule with a cockpit.

I was too busy talking shit, not able to realise a battle cruiser behind me with a barrel pointed at my ass. Son of a bitch laughed at me, whirled his gun around, drawing hearts like it was a game. When his play thing got stuck in the cannon barings, he moved up to throw me a shade. Immediately I hopped back and grabbed my rifle, when he presset on his controls and made a jump to the front of our ship.

– Braoury!!! They are here!!! – I yelled as hard as I could but it was of no help.

The enemy ship opened fire on us, while circling around us, pointing his jets on our platings, burning the chemicals from the bombardment, ripping our ship in half. I waited for the fucker to show up so I could open fire at him, but he never came in my cross. Visir showed the lack of communication bars, and then the rustling overtook my helmet. There I was, stuck on a cannon, adrift from already adrift ship that drifted away from the main force, that drifted away from home, that drifted into the void, that drifted somewhere in the space we didn’t knew it existed. It would be a little comforting to die right now, but to slowly glide towards the scary hole, was more than I bargained for.


Gorumite Boarding Party_zpsg0yledmu


5 thoughts on “Dumb Death

  1. Pingback: Matocian Elections | Dronstad

  2. Pingback: Rock called Sol 1C (2) | Dronstad

  3. Pingback: Neon fire | Dronstad

  4. Pingback: Author Interview – A.G. Kirkham – “Guard: Satan’s Pride Series” (Contemporary Romance) | toofulltowrite (I've started so I'll finish)

  5. Pingback: Critique needed | Dronstad

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s