Thursday, April 21, 2011

Glance Backward into My Head (A Spring 1988 Flash Fiction)


Leaders Log 440

… it’s 80 tr-ions now since the leader was killed. 80 frustrating days with the burden of command. 440 tr-ions ago this vessel was brand new, fresh out of the dock now it’s a damn wreck. 

It seems we’re smack dab in the middle of the Androconain kill zone. We’ve been hit more times in the last 46 sect-ions than in all the time I’ve been in space. Damnation! They know just when to attack. On their last run we lost the inter dimensional drive. If only we could find a tugboat we could escape, home, but the Androcons don’t seem to use them. There’s not a lot of places to hide out here. The enemy is pinging actively this debris cloud of blown up ships. The chief tech says the space inverter will take 30 tr-ions to fix provided we can stay hidden and don’t loose any more crewmen. At top speed without the IDD it will take a hundred Ae-ions to get back to neutral space. How do I tell the crew that—

High Alert … High Alert … all hands to battle stations …leader to the controls. 

“Be down in an ion,” Daynel snapped into the com-unit.


The shock from the direct hit threw him across the cabin. Smoke from electrical fires rolled in like fog on the sea blinding him. Fifteen ions later he crawled out of his cabin to the connecting channel only to be hit by another three-de shock wave. After two mi-ons Daynel finally made it to the controller deck.

“Leader, main engines are out, all weapon systems are down. Do you want me to begin the destruct sequence,” the navigator barked? “No,” Daynel ordered, “blow the horn and ask for terms of surrender!”

“But, sir, you know what they do to prisoners,” he responded indignantly. “No, buts. Sharpen your sword boys,” Daynel shot back, with a wild shit eating grin, "we're going on black-eyed bug hunt."

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