Ashen Trees

Trapped on a feeling that leaves you reeling
Where are the crows that define your meaning?

As thorns of red dive deeper into the ocean
Seas begin to start to boil with feeling

Last among the endless ashen trees
Shattered realities breed only disease

The sutble stab of who you should be
Will you ever get to grip that really?

Petals of dust come tumbling down
Soon you will be buried under ground

Stones of purpose are cast to the sky
Victims scream about how they wonder why

Angels wings of shattered glass
Is this all that you shall ask?

Spinning on this endless broken wheel
The mountainside will make no deal

Alone among the fractured bones
That grow among the headstones

From Present To Past

Humanity will fade away
Swallowed by its entropy
Because we couldn’t stay together
Instead we fractured unlike weather
Torn apart instead of stayed strong
Oh what a tragic wrong
So soon we will just rot away
Lost to times natural decay
So much promise that we did sully
If only we would have tried more fully
But that was never on the cards
Is what would be sung by bards
Except there is no one left to sing
The world is now a much emptier thing
But do not fret about the past
The one that is gone at last
Cause these are simply what does remain
The Earth has continued on its reign
Without a blight upon its crust
Nature will never go bust

Hunter

Wednesday! This story is a little different from the last. It’s still Sci-Fi but it has more action. I like how it turned out and it is darker, but still don’t think it hit what I was originally going for. I had hoped to make the main character darker, but I don’t think I quite managed it. By the way this story is about 12500 words. See what you think and see if you agree.

Marek is stood in the reception room on the top floor of a building that is owned by the man who wishes to offer him a job. He doesn’t know what the job is, but he’ll find that out soon. What’s more pressing to him is how long he is going to be kept waiting. Marek is a busy man and time is money. The assistant behind the desk has said that their boss shouldn’t be too much longer and has offered that Marek takes a seat, but he doesn’t want to. This is business and he doesn’t lounge about when business is to be conducted. However, that hasn’t made the assistant any less insistent, or nervous for that matter. Marek understands the young man’s nervousness though as he knows what he looks like as he smiles devilishly from below his full face helmet. Suddenly the door between the reception area and the space beyond slides open to allow a group of gang members exit. One of them is dead and being carried by the other three. Each of the three look terrified as they keep their eyes low and shuffle to the lift with the dead body that Marek is sure had been in life the gangs boss. He has no feelings either way having seen the sight, but guesses that the delay is due to whatever business they had, which has clearly now been completed.

Before the assistant can say anything Marek strides through the open automatic sliding metal doors and into the space beyond. He doesn’t pay any mind as the assistant shouts after him asking him to come back in a tone of voice that clearly marks just how terrified he is of his boss. But Marek isn’t scared. He knows who he’s here to meet on the top floor of the highest tower of Station Beta-3.

“Hunter. You’re here.” Boron Lockwall calls from behind his huge dark wooden desk.

Boron is the boss of this station. He isn’t technically a gang member, but instead more a crime lord. What he says goes and he rules over this slum of an overpopulated and desperate space station with an iron fist. All the gangs serve under him and if any step out of line, well they end up like the guy Marek saw in the reception, dead.

Boron is a beast of a man, fat with a shaved head, tattooed face, almost grey eyes and a crooked nose. His voice is raspy like he’s been shouting, but Marek knows that the man’s voice isn’t worn or failing. That is just how he always sounds.

Marek says nothing in response as he stops a couple metres from Boron’s fifteen foot wide and six feet deep desk. It’s made out of thick pieces of wood that have been stained a dark colour, with green felt nailed onto a section of the top where Boron’s arms are resting as he grins.

The doors slide shut with little more than a hiss. Marek knows there are two big hired goons, one on either side of the room. Both are armed as they stand there in white suits that in no way help them to blend with the grey walls or the gaudy furnishings. Marek knows that’s the point but he couldn’t care less about their presence. He knows they pose little threat to him.

“Take off your helmet.” One of the big guys says, his voice echoing from behind Marek.

Marek has no intention of removing his helmet which is grey and black in colour with some silver trim. The twin front forks of the helmet jutting below his chin similar to the front of a Spartan or Corinthian helmet from ancient Greece, except shorter. It makes Marek look as though he has fangs as he stands there without moving a muscle.

“No. No. Its fine boys. This one can keep his helmet on.” Boron offers in a calm voice.

The crime lord knows better than to try and make this bounty hunter remove his helmet. He’s heard the stories of those who’ve tried and how they ended up, and none were pretty. While he may never have dealt with Marek before personally, he knows his type, and isn’t about to bring such a wrath upon himself over such a trifling matter.

“Shall I begin?” Boron then asks unsure because of the full face helmet.

The crime lord has to admit he doesn’t like doing business with someone when he can’t see their face. It puts him on edge. He doesn’t have a way of knowing if the man before him is for one a man, and two, the man he is supposed to be. In truth anyone could be below that impenetrable façade and he’d never know.

“Time’s money.” Marek replies simply as his faceless helmet stares back at Boron. The crime lord nods as a smile forms across his face, sure that the man before him really is who he claims to be.

Marek comes highly recommended, but recommendation comes with a price, a high price. Boron can afford it, but still he’d prefer to have not had to hire an external hand. Though, he knows none of the goons in the gangs on his station would ever have been competent enough to do what he needs, so needs must.

“I have a job.” Boron begins. Marek says nothing as he stands there face hidden, clad in his black and grey armour, the plates of which overlap one another to protect his torso, upper and lower arms, thighs and shins. The bounty hunters shoulders, elbows and knees covered by singular moulded pieces of tri-titanium alloy entirely black in colour that match his heavy plated boots.

“It won’t be an easy job. It’ll require some smuggling…” Boron starts making sure to keep his words vague.

“Just give me the details.” Marek says cutting Boron off, whose face goes red in response of the interjection. His two bodyguard’s eyes go wide in shock. No one ever dares to cut their boss off, they both think as they stand there.

Boron hates being interrupted as his upper lips begins to curl into a snarl, but Marek couldn’t care less. In fact, he hoped his actions would illicit such a response from the crime boss, who he knows is used to talking in vagaries encase anyone might catch wind of his grand plans and usurp or undercut him.

“That is not how I do business, hunter.” Boron replies as he stares at the armour clad figure before him.

Boron has decided he doesn’t like the bounty hunter and begins to contemplate whether he truly is necessary. He is and Boron knows it as he flicks his fat tongue at the back of one of his teeth which sits to the right side of his lower jaw. It’s how he keeps from erupting into an incandescent rage. But it doesn’t always work. It hadn’t during his last meeting, which is why the Low Rats no longer have a gang leader. It wasn’t a great loss and had been a semi-calculated act of brutality, seeing as the gang had been skimming profits off the top for themselves. But it meant he’d have to watch the gang closer now, not just encase they dared do it again, which he knows they will as gangs of lowlifes always do, but also to see who takes the premiership in the gang. Seeing as depending on who becomes the new leader of the Low Rats will either result in their continued survival or violent dispatch and ultimate replacement.

Boron isn’t short of contenders to join the upper table of gangs, but none of that is why Marek is here. These are internal problems that he can easily solve with his own hands, whereas this particular job he knows he cannot. Its beyond his reach.

“No details, no contract. No contract, no me.” Marek replies as he stands there relaxed. He knows the two thugs behind him have their hands resting on the slug pistols strapped against their ribs ready to pull and fire at any time.

“Hunter, please. You must understand…” Boron begins trying to charm Marek.

“I don’t have to understand. Either you give me the details without the bullshit charm or I walk. You’ve wasted enough of my time.” Marek says interrupting Boron for the second time as he smiles beneath his helmet. He is taking great delight in winding the crime lord up, as he notes how easy it is. It never gets any harder. They are so used to getting their ways that they are completely out of their depth when they speak with someone on a similar level to themselves.

“Is that a threat?” Boron asks as his face darkens in anger which he is barely able to contain.

“It’s a promise. I don’t do threats.” Marek fires back bluntly as his cocks his head to one side.

“Maybe you should.” Boron says with a nod.

Marek already knows what will come next, but it’s a pity that neither of the armed thugs nor Boron do.

Both the thugs pull their slug pistols but as they come to aim them they are hit by shock blades. The small throwing weapons armed with electrical charge, stab into the two thugs and immediately discharge bursts of electricity that overwhelm their nervous systems. Both crumple to the floor with identical booms, almost in stereo, as Marek turns back to look at Boron who is holding a slug pistol of his own, which is pointed at Marek. Marek had seen the weapon on the desks top but if the intent was to scare him then it’s failed. He simply stares from behind his visor, brown eyes hidden.

“Ready to talk now?” Boron offers sure he has the upper hand.

“Is that a threat?” Marek asks calmly.

“Of course it’s a threat! Who do you think you’re talking to you little shit?!” Boron thunders as he yells loudly, his face red as blood vessels pulse angrily and visibly. It’s an impressive feat Marek knows for a man of Boron’s size.

“You don’t want to threaten me.” Marek replies with a shake of his helmet.

“Why not? I have the gun, hunter. And I’m the king here.” Boron barks with a wide smile. He knows he’s won. Marek can’t best him. He knows the bounty hunter doesn’t use guns, at least not anymore. He’s done his homework and picked the perfect candidate.

“Really? Are you going to make me do this the hard way?” Marek asks.

“Hard way! You are the one who made this…” Boron begins but never finishes as a sudden blinding light sears his eyes. It’s emitted by a high intensity light on his wrist. Boron roars in pain as he shields his face and screws his eyes shut. Then he realises his mistake and forces them open again.

His eyes are burning in pain with spots of light dotted about his vision, but he’s too late to stop Marek grab his wrist and squeeze. Boron lets out a yelp as the slug pistol drops from his grip, caught by Marek’s free hand as he shoves Boron backward. The fat crime lord tumbles back into his custom chair with a thud as Marek empties the rounds from the cylinder and then detaches the barrel, frame and grip from one another.

“Details.” Marek demands.

He knows this wasn’t a trap. It was a test, which is why he hasn’t caused any lasting damage to Boron. But he has made it very clear who is the dominant force here and it’s not the crime lord. Marek knows Boron wanted it to be and that he had hoped Marek would simply surrender and then bow down to him, but that’s not how this works. Boron’s learnt that now. It’s just whether the fat criminal can stomach it. Some can, others can’t. It’s why Marek has the reputation he does.

“I need a package retrieved from Sunev.”

“What sort of package?” Marek queries.

“One that’s very dear to me, hunter.” Boron fires back as he comforts his wrist.

Marek simply cocks his head as far as Boron can see, but below his helmet he rolls his eyes.

“Fine. Fine. The package is a case about so.” Boron says as he demonstrates with his hands that the size is about a foot wide and three feet tall.

Marek knows he’ll get little more than that.

“Retrieval and transit from Sunev back here, inside of three standard days. Our days, not that reformation timescale crap, I might add. Four million cred chips as payment.” Boron concludes. He isn’t willing to give any further details and if the bounty hunter wants them then the jobs off.

Boron hopes the jobs off, simply so he can kill Marek, slowly. He knows he’ll enjoy that and can’t help but lick his lips in anticipation of the idea as he wonders what he’d do to the hunter first. Skin him? Take his hands? His eyes? Maybe all his limbs? Test how good that armour he wears really is. All sound like delicious ideas he thinks as he stares at the faceless man before him, sickened and angry.

“Done.” Marek says after a pause that makes it look like he’s been mulling the decision over. He hasn’t. He’d planned to take the job from the beginning, but he’d never let Boron know that.

“Good.” Boron says with a hint of surprise in his voice. He curses himself for revealing his disappointment.

“Coordinates and passes will be transmitted. You’ll have them by the time you board your ship, hunter.” Boron offers as Marek turns and begins to walk away. The two thugs only just managing to clamber back to their feet now as they hold their heads feeling dizzy and dazed.

“Payment on receipt of the package.” Boron calls after Marek as he steps through the open lift doors and onto the lift where he turns to face back toward Boron who stares at the helmet as the doors slide shut. Boron sneers now that the hunter is gone from sight and promises that Marek will pay for his arrogance, with his life, as a call comes through.

“Leave.” Boron demands of his two bodyguards who immediately and without question obey his order and depart his office. The lavish furniture and art filling the large open space as Boron answers the call.

“Is it done?” The voice booms from the speakers built into Boron’s desk.

“It is.” Boron confirms.

“The hunter is unaware of the contents?” The voice queries.

“He is.” Boron assures.

“He wasn’t curious then?”

“Not overly.”

“What does that mean?” The voice asks.

“It’ll be handled.” Boron says trying to be charming.

“It better. You know what’ll happen if it isn’t Boron. You might be a king on that heap of junk you call a station, but that’s as far as your reach extends.” The voice threatens without a care before ending the call without another word.

Boron sits at his desk eyeing the feed of cameras for Docking Bay 3, where Marek’s ship is docked.

“Hope you weren’t planning on spending the money, cause it’s never coming.” Boron says with a wry smile as he watches Marek’s ship lift from the deck plating and then drift out into the darkness of space.

Money Hungry

You thirst for money
You’re consumed by greed
Rub your hands together
Ignore mortality
Start the economy to watch it fail
A second wave will then prevail
But you just want to count the cash
Don’t give a damn about the mass
We can all go lie in an enormous grave
What a blinkered view you wish to pave
Even your lies can’t hide the truth
They actually hold the golden proof
You should know better after what you saw
But that would require you to understand more
A care for loss isn’t your concern
You just want to speak at the lecturn
More sounds come out than actual words
We’d be better off listening to birds
They have more thought then you ever will
You’re just a narcissitic little schill

Pact

Cutting so deep you see nothing but void
As the city sleeps you dream of joy
A rapture of memory will open its wings
Now prepare for the change that comes from within

Will you ever focus on what you believe?
A glance to the sky will aid in nothing
So you bark platitudes as all do descend
Preparing for the banquet of martyr and friend

Searching the night for a glimpse of new light
As the facade starts to wither and slide
A rose thorn can make no amends
Bring value to the dance that marks out pretend

Ordering the tides to conform and swell
All while you lie about this being hell
Shifted your hopes that came crashing down
You made your bed as you adorned this crown

Bleeding the skies of eternal black
Don’t you see there is no way back?
Speak out the truths before you made lies
Remember the joys that you sold for a prize

So now as you stare at the worlds end
Think on the pact that changed everything
Eyes once open did become closed
This is why your mind shifted to no’s

More posts this week!

As the title says there will be more posts this week. In fact, there will be a new post Monday through Friday. All days, except Wednesday, will be poems. Tuesday’s and Thursday’s are the rest of those I wrote last week. Hence why I’m posting them!

Iced Over

The frost crawls across your heart
Never will you admit your dark
Cold to your very core
As you murder and abhor

Skin like ice that burns to touch
You became the murderous
Shattering hearts as you pass
Fatal attraction killing fast

Ice blue eyes that pierce through
Whatever happened to the real you
Turned your back and became
An icy figure of hate and pain

Lashing all that have a brain
Are you coming back again?
Or are you lost to the dark?
Another heartless debutante

Jealous of the latest scene
They all cower as you scream
Freezing solid every dream
You sold your soul for nothing

Picture fading memory
You will age just like me
Selling lies to fashion truth
There is only deception left in you

Stoking fires to win wars
Cast aside what you want no more
But it proves you are a fake
Time to live with this heartbreak

As you watch from your tower
Counting by every hour
Remember that you did decide
To let your heart freeze and die

The Title Holds Weight

And here is the second post of the day!

Devil is in the detail
But you haven’t set the scale
Moving past the tipping point
You haven’t offered one clear thought
Spouting words that contradict
Everyone is so so sick
Now hurry up and say something
Before an end is what you bring
We can’t listen to the calls
You ran away to hide behind the walls
Claiming we all misunderstand
But truth is you have no plan
Made a slip so tried to cover
Problem is you have no other
All the blame falls to you
That is what you wanted too
But now the pressure begins to rise
You want to forsake that prize

Empty Words

Hey everyone! I don’t usually post on a Thursday or introduce poems that I post for that matter. But on this occasion I am as I wrote this and felt that it was appropriate to post sooner rather than later due to its content. Also this is the first of two posts today.

Your system has well and truly failed
And the ship has long since sailed
Fumbling in the burning light
Leadership is out of sight
Do as you wish, you won’t amend
Stupidity that i won’t commend
Watching from the living room
Knowing that there will soon be doom
Responsibility washed away
Happy for us to left to decay
Undo all that we have done
Its like you haven’t heard a sound
Screams of loss and misery
Its like we’re not living in the 21st century
No thought before you speak
Change of heart that ignores the peak
Vague to the point of saying nought
You are useless as we all thought
Now get a hold of yourself
Before we all wave goodbye to health

Contact

Here we are at Wednesday again. This time we have an even longer story (nearly 11000 words) than the last. This one’s about first contact between humanity and an alien species. Have fun!

The arrowhead shaped silver ship sits motionless in the endless black void of space nine hundred miles above the surface of Earth. The point of the ship is aimed outward, toward Pluto and the outer edge of the Sol System. Inside the ship that has no name, bar its official designation of Blink-001, the three crew members sit surrounded by holographic console displays. They have a view through the wide canopy of space and the solar system beyond. None of the three crew members are strangers to space, or traversing it, as they are all members of the United Space Alliance, or UnSA for short. However, they are strangers to the technology that exists within this vessel as it is the first of its kind. It’s one of the reasons why the space lanes have been cleared for this test, as well as why they are pointed toward the outer edge of the system.

At the centre of the trio sits Wendy Chang the System Specialist and defacto commander of this mission. She is a representative of the Chinese Collective and their interests. Wendy runs through all the systems aboard Blink-001 again to ensure that everything is ready for the impending test flight that she, as well as the rest of humanity, hopes will end in success. Such an achievement would herald in a new era of space travel for humanity, who have to this point not left the confines of the Sol System. Even though humanity are a couple decades into the twenty fifth century.

Wendy pulls her hair back again, tightening the bobble that is tied around her long black hair as her brown eyes continue to scan over the system reports the onboard computers are relaying to her. Her eyes scan back and forth at incredible speed as she searches for inconsistencies or errors that could otherwise result in disaster. Wendy doesn’t want to die today and is pretty sure the same goes for her two pilots, who flank her on either side, Nicholas Mendes and Tenisha Faulkner. Wendy casts her glance to her left and then right to find both are also busily running checks of their own as the comms system sparks to life.

“Godspeed Blink-001.” Doctor Alistair Wells’ voice resonates clearly over the crews in-ear radios. The man himself, white haired and tired looking with sunken eyes, is standing in the control centre of the UnSA launch building on the Moon.

Wendy touches the earpiece in her left ear to activate it so she can thank Doctor Wells, who is the head of the Blink Transit project. In fact, he is the sole reason the project exists as faster than light travel had been deemed an impossibility before his revolutionary calculations and insight paved the way for a resurgence and refocus on the subject. It had taken more than twenty years of continuous work but it was all worth it as it has led them to this point, the first test flight for faster than light travel, which has been dubbed Blink Transit.

“Thank you Control.” Wendy responds sincerely before immediately cutting her broadcast.

“Still keeping it short and sweet then?” Nicholas Mendes offers with a smirk and a chuckle from his seat to Wendy’s left.

Nicholas is the lead pilot on this mission with more than fifteen years of space flight experience. He is a representative of the Portuguese Republic, as well as the wider European Conglomerate, which consists of traditional Europe as well as Russia, Georgia, Armenia and Turkey.

“Better than what you do Nick.” Tenisha, the secondary pilot, says from her seat on Wendy’s right with a beaming smile.

Tenisha is a representative of the Canadian arm of the UnSA, which in turn is a part of the North American Concord much like the African Union and South American Assembly. She’s an experienced pilot but it isn’t her background, Wendy knows.

“Wow, you are cheeky.” Nick fires back with a wide grin of his own.

Wendy knows some crew leads; she doesn’t call herself a commander as she doesn’t actually have a rank, would try and quieten their fellow crew members. Wendy however, sees little issue with a light hearted exchange, especially as they will soon be firing the Blink Drive to attempt the first ever faster than light travel for humanity. It’s an exciting time and she can barely contain the energy she feels in the moments before they complete their preparations, all of which show no issues present. Wendy has to admit that she’s pleased about that. Maybe it will mark the first time in human history that a first test flight would be performed without a hitch.

“Command, we are ready for test flight of Blink Transit.” Wendy says over the comms as her finger presses against the piece in her left ear.

“Confirmed Blink-001. Standby for all clear.” The voice of one of the UnSA command centre technician’s replies sounding excited.

“What you gonna do when this is over?” Nick asks looking over at Wendy and Tenisha as they wait for the all clear. There is nothing more the three crew members of the test flight ship can do and they all know it. But you can always leave it to Nick to decide to fill the void by starting a conversation. His thick black hair swept back as his tanned skin starkly contrasts with the vibrant colours of the holographic consoles around them. Nick’s trademark smile painted across his face as his ice blue eyes shine brightly.

“Ask for a boat.” Tenisha jokes with a chuckle as her wide smile, dark lips and green eyes look back at him.

“Wendy?” Nick then asks after a few seconds of silence during which she makes no attempt to respond. Her lack of response is for no other reason than she knows that it plays on Nick’s belief that she is a woman of few words and to a point he’s right, but only when such things are called for.

Wendy shifts her glance to Nick having previously been gazing at the console before her pretending to be focused on something. Feigning that she didn’t hear what he said. She’d heard everything though and Nick knows she has but still he plays along. Until her expressionless look breaks into a smile.

“I knew it. You were listening. Go on then. Or are you at your word quota for today already?” Nick jabs playfully.

Wendy turns and looks at Nick and simply blinks several times as Nick hangs ready for something, anything that he can take as a response from the Systems Specialist. He knows she is buying time, not because she doesn’t have an answer, but because she is trying to hold him off until control come back with the all clear. But Nick knows that could take a while, especially seeing as UnSA command will be triple and quadruple checking to ensure that all Sling Gate routes are clear of traffic. After all, the last thing anyone wants is the first Blink Transit test flight to end in the ship spearing through a civilian transit ship killing hundreds or even thousands of civilians.

So Nick waits patiently for a response as the seconds drag on and Wendy is left to wait longer and longer. He can tell she’s struggling. He begins to lightly tap his fingers against his forearm, which like the rest of him and his two other crew members, is covered in a second skin spacesuit.

“Don’t think you’re getting an answer Nick.” Tenisha offers before long, her words break the silence that is hanging in the cockpit of the test ship. She pulls her long curly black hair back to tighten the bobble that is holding it in a ponytail.

But Nick continues patiently to wait for a response. He doesn’t have to wait too long as Wendy exhales and rolls her eyes. He knows it’s a sign of defeat as his smile widens in response to his victory.

“To get as far away from you as possible, Nick.” Wendy offers with a forced over the top smile.

Tenisha bursts into uncontrollable laughter at Wendy’s words.

“And I thought you liked me.” Nick fires back feigning that Wendy’s comments have injured him in some way. His right hand clasped over the section of his chest below which lies his heart. Wendy chuckles and shakes her head happy that someone like Nick is here to keep the mood light and not let them dwell on the ifs and buts of what could come next.

“Please tell me you do better than that when you’re out on the town?” Tenisha queries as she continues to laugh.

“Blink-001. You are clear to proceed. Good luck.” The same technicians’ voice says over the comms system now.

“Roger.” Wendy replies as the three of them shift their focus back to their holographic consoles, their hands dancing over them as they prepare to spool the engines up.

“By the way, what happens if we don’t hold the course exactly?” Nick asks serious now. His smile is gone, much like Tenisha’s laughter.

“We hit something.” Tenisha replies succinctly as Wendy watches the engines begin to spool up. They’re quickly gathering the energy needed to propel them forward before the ignition of the Blink Drive that should take them as far as Pluto, if they time it as planned, that is.

“What, there’s nothing out here.” Nick responds.

“A planet. A moon.” Wendy replies without diverting her focus as the engines advise that they are ready for ignition. But she doesn’t give the order yet, instead she checks to ensure they are not creating any anomalies with the Blink Drive. She finds, much to her relief, they are not. Wendy lets out a silent sigh of relief in response.

“Ready for ignition in 3…2…1.” Wendy counts down.

As soon as she hits one both Tenisha and Nick ignite the twin engines. They burst into life, flinging them forward at speed. The trio know that this speed is nothing compared to what is achieved during Sling Gate traversal, which in turn will be nothing compared to Blink Transit. Or at least they all hope so as their ship races away from Earth at several thousand miles an hour.

Wendy continues to run diagnostics and system checks, scanning the data returns which are all showing well within margins and without any conflicts. Wendy smiles slightly pleased with the results thus far, though she knows that this is just the build up before the big reveal. Her tongue laps at the corners of her mouth, nervously. She, along with Nick and Tenisha, has trained for this moment her entire life, but if she is honest she never thought it would come. Faster than light travel had seemed impossible for humanity, who had developed and relied on Sling Gates since their inception in the mid twenty second century to traverse the Sol System at roughly half the speed of light. The only issue with Sling Gates is that there has to be one at both the origin and destination points for such speeds to be possible. So where two Sling Gates are not located humanity has to still rely on engines much like those that the Blink-001 test ship is running on at this very moment. Its why in the early days of solar colonisation it had taken humanity months of travel to reach Mars and begin terraforming the red planet.

“Velocity stable.” Tenisha states as she keeps her focus on the console readouts ahead of her.

“Trajectory confirmed and holding.” Nick then offers as he holds the holographic joystick steady in his left hand, his right hovering over holographic buttons. He knows the pattern of activation better than he knows his own security codes, as he stares out the canopy to the blackness of space beyond.

“Preparing for Blink Drive activation.” Wendy says as she runs another diagnostic to ensure all systems are green. The on-board systems confirm that everything is still green as she prepares for the faster than light drives activation. Her hand hovers over the holographic button ready to activate the prototype transit system.

“Cut engines on my mark.” Wendy then orders as she casts her eyes left to Nick and then right to Tenisha. Both nod in turn to confirm her order.

“3…2…1…Mark!” Wendy calls.

The two pilots cut the conventional engines leaving their ship to drift at a steady velocity.

“Speed holding.” Nick offers after a few seconds, a smile on his face as he waits for the single greatest moment of his life. He knows it and welcomes it openly without an ounce of doubt being present in his mind.

“Blink Drive activation in…3…2…1.” As Wendy says one she activates the Blink Drive which fires into life, spooling audibly as it spins up to full speed in just a few seconds. Wendy continues to monitor ship systems, drive sensors and returning data. All are still showing clear and within margins, much to her relief and delight. She can feel the excitement well up inside her, almost to the point of becoming overwhelming as she calmly inhales and exhales.

“Blink Transit activation…” Tenisha calls as both she and Nick tap away at their consoles making sure everything is ready and that there is no human error that could result in failure. Especially as they have managed to get this far without catastrophe.

“Blink Drive initiated!” Nick calls as he completes the memorised sequence with his right hand a moment before the Blink Drive fires, forcing the three occupants back into their seats.

Nick though keeps his hold on the holographic joystick which he grips tightly as space rips past them in a blur of light. He can’t comprehend where they are or what they’re passing as the ship tears across space. It lasts for only a few seconds, which feels too short to him, before the drive cuts and they decelerate sharply out of faster than light speeds and back into a gentle drift with Pluto below them.

All three crew members erupt into screams and shouts of joy. They have succeeded in reaching faster than light speeds on their maiden flight using this technology.

The ship hangs sedately in the exact position that had been planned as its exit point, some two miles from the Sling Gate, which in turn sits some forty three hundred metres above the surface of Pluto. Wendy, Tenisha and Nick laugh and throw their arms up in the air as their faces beam with wide smiles.

“Command to Blink-001, congratulations. You’ve made human history.” The voice of Doctor Wells says over the comms systems.

“Blink-001 to command. No Doctor Wells we’ve all made history here today.” Wendy replies as Nick and Tenisha continue to scream and shout in celebration.

“Blink-001, transport on route. Standby for retrieval.” A different technician’s voice, this one female, says with pure joy over the comms system. The cries of success from the rest of the command centre fill the trios ears, almost drowning out the technician’s words.

“Standing by.” Wendy replies as Tenisha catches a glimpse of something in the corner of her eye. Her head turns as she looks out the canopy but sees nothing now but Pluto and empty space.

“What is it?” Nick, who had been looking across at his two colleagues, asks.

“It…it doesn’t matter.” Tenisha answers sure that she saw something, even though there is clearly nothing out there.

“Tenisha?” Wendy asks worried about the secondary pilot, who is a biologist primarily and a pilot second.

“I…I thought I saw something. But…there’s nothing there.” Tenisha offers unsure of what she could have seen. There is nothing out here except us, she tells herself. All Sling transports have been cancelled and there is no way the retrieval ship could have arrived that fast, even if it is only one gate over.

“It’s the excitement!” Nick exclaims.

“We just went faster than light!” Nick continues his mood unperturbed.

“Nick’s right.” Wendy offers as she rests her right hand on Tenisha’s left shoulder.

Tenisha turns her focus away from the view of space beyond the canopy and looks at the other woman and Nick for a few moments before she smiles again. Tenisha nods just as the transport ship that will return them to the UnSA Moon base appears from the Pluto Sling Gate.

“Hey look, almost home.” Nick says with a wide smile as he goes back to waving his arms in the air and dancing in his seat. The sight makes both Wendy and Tenisha roar with laughter.