August 27th, 2004


Fast Fiction Week: Day 3

We were fucked when the Excelsior exploded. The carrier blossomed into a billion billion shards, just a cloud of big particles falling into a sphere around the caged quantum singularity that had driven the ship. A thousand people dead in an instant.

It had been our only way home.

The communicators were a mass of other fighter pilots screaming hysterically at each other. No time for that now. We were sent out here to investigate and pacify an anomaly. Translated, that meant "Go break some alien heads". The aliens stomped back. Time to improvise.

Screen filters are showing some kind of coherent energy beam. It looks something like an x-ray laser, or maybe a maser. Whatever it is, it blew up our carrier. The other fighters' vectors are all over the place. Two of them explode as they cross the beam.

"Stormhawk to all points: We still have a job to do. I am not about to let these bastards get away with it. All fighters, synchronise on my vector."

Drones boosted from their bays. Their lasers weren't much, but anything to soften up the point of impact was a bonus. I aimed the fighter, and accelerated until impact.
  • Current Music
    Something that my beleagured brain thinks is Tom Lehrer doing 'New Math', but I can't be sure
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