Friday, August 22, 2014


The START of a response to Chuck Wendig's weekly Flash Fiction Challenge. There is much more story here that I'll have to return to later. 

The sonic boom of his ships engines thrusting out of the upper atmosphere is barely a pop from the surface, the light of its warp core sparkling briefly, like a star fizzling out.

Vina sighs. She wishes her heart could feel lighter with every light year the ship puts between him and her home, but she knows this will not be the last she will see of them. There will be more, in their gleaming silver ships with their laser weapons and hypocritical directives.

She spits on the ground. Agitation quivers through her with the tension of a tairn string, though she fears nothing so sublime as its music will be the result of this pressure.

"Vina." The voice behind her is barely louder than the wind through the ferns that cling to the ground around them like girls to their mothers.

Reaching back, she pulls her ancient nursemaid to her. Age has shrunken her, darkened her skin to the color of the depths of the deepest lagoon, but the elder is still strong enough to hold her together in a crisis.

"I failed, Eeyma. I thought if we showed them a backwards and debased planet, they'd decide we weren't advanced enough and just leave us alone. I thought if we put on one disgusting show..."

She chokes back a sob.

"That's the problem," she grumbles into her elder's embrace.

"With men?" She ventures.

"No. With all of us. All of us with big brains and good intentions. We need someone to save, whether they need it or not."

Eeyma nods, sighing, and breaks the embrace to gaze into the dark pools of her charge's eyes.

"So, what will you do?"

Sides sets her jaw, hands compressing into fists.

"What I must."

Image credit: 
"Sun Spots and Solar Flares" by NASA/SDO 

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