Rusty Bearings – Room 101

 Let’s do one of M’s prompts.  Rusty Bearings.

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else.  They dont always finish, I just like to try and evoke a certain feeling or scene.

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Cal stood on the repair deck of the SS Los Angeles looking out into the inky expanse of space and wiped at the grease on his hands with an old red rag.  He loved rest days when he could just potter around the repair deck and have time to think.

He braced himself as he felt the rumble of the high orbit burners beneath his feet and the ship manoeuvred slowly around until the earth drifted into view.

“Wow” he said to himself shaking his head.  The old girl didn’t look well.

From high above large swathes of once green land were now barren and ocean’s once blue and teaming with life were now darkened with the toxic remnants of the third and fourth great wars.

He placed the rag into his overall pocket as the ships com gave a single beep and crackled into life.

”This is captain Armitage.”  He sounded tired.  Eight years in charge of a destroyer will do that to you Cal thought to himself.  “It is with great sadness that I can confirm that Central Command have today confirmed that the SS Trump has been lost over Mars.  Survivors are not expected.  God bless her crew and God bless America.”  The Comms beeped again and there was silence.

Cal grimaced.  That was four destroyers in the last month alone.  They were losing this war.