Going to try do prompts this month. Kind of stream of consciousness stuff as I don’t have time for all that planning or editing lark. Am aiming for about 1000 words a day. Let’s see how it goes. They may be dross, but sometimes it is just fun to write and see what comes out without too much thinking…
First up is Fandango’s One Word Challenge.. The inspirational word was ‘Gather’.
https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/79388113/posts/4786274648
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Beyond the satellites they gathered, glistening hulks of steel and wrath, bristling with a thousand glowing barrels, ready to blast and pulse their way to victory over the unsuspecting planet below.
The Jengati had arrived first, a dozen of their most ferocious Class A ‘Blastemup’ cruisers settling into orbit, the moon glancing off of the endless angry angles that made up the ship which left you wondering which way was up and where the threat would come from. Everywhere was the answer, the threat came from everywhere.
Next to arrive was an advance party of Zex War fighters, smaller in size, but just as ferocious. They zipped and darted around the Jengati fleet, and there was a moment when it seemed that they would engage each other before sense prevailed. After a short lunch consisting mostly of Paraxial death-beer they both decided that sharing the spoils was not going to be a problem given just how much there was to go around, and that they all now needed a lie down to recover from lunch and shooting and explosions was only going to make the inevitable hangover even worse.
By the time the Balorians and the Holy Upper Order of Sleen turned up, things were getting a little cramped. The airwaves were filled with chatter and bluster of the fleet commanders, each staking a claim of this newly discovered planet for their empire. Some needed the natural resources, others made claims for colonisation settlements, and others wanted the population for the slave markets – a new species always created a huge buzz on the sub-net. And generally each quite enjoyed a spot of shooting and blasting too, so if that could be thrown in then that would be just great and thank you very much.
Admiral Blaarg of the Jengati sent out an all ships broadcast to any craft on the pan-planet frequency. Vid screens flickered across the com decks of the gathered ships, and his bulbous form flashed across the screens. His jade green uniform hugged his lumpy body, from which two stumpy arms protruded and they were topped with were a close approximation of fingers which were as close to being folded in the area where one might imagine his lap to have been. Protruding eyes sat wide upon his face, and a broad wide mouth sat uncomfortably just where a nose might have been. There was definitely space for a nose, but it seemed evolution had other ideas and apparently thought it far too much effort and had given up at eyes and a mouth, thinking that good enough of a job and had promptly proceeded to making several internal organs surplus to biological requirements, but leaving them in place anyway, just for giggles.
Blaarg coughed, and positioned himself squarely in his chair.
“To all assembled vessels, this is admiral Blaarg of the Jengati empire. We stake first claim and discoverers obligations in the name of our peoples and planets.”
There was a moments pause as the assembled craft waited for the translator circuits to process.
“Point of order,“ came a high pitched reply from Fleet Marshall Elver of the Balorians. “The planet was discovered by the Aquillan council, and not Jengati. The full and proper study was completed, all assets logged, all lifeforms catalogued, and all appropriate documentation completed – in triplicate. On that basis a fair and proper distribution of resources should be made equitably between all parties arriving and logging their intentions with one Aquillan cycle.”
“The study was completed when chaired by the Jengati at that cycle,” insisted Blaarg abruptly. “And on that basis we demand that…”
Bedlam broke out across the comms.
The Balorian grinned at the cacophony, the thick rows of teeth deep set in his cavernous mouth showing his pleasure. His scales flushed pink and blue, iridescent in the reflected light of the comms panel.
Blaarg thundered about galactic charters and consequential responsibilities written in charter. The Holy Upper Order of Sleen’s Grand Master informed everyone that would listen that he would happily inform the Jengati where to shove their charter, upon which the Jengati suggested that was hardly speech worthy of a Holy Order. In turn the Holy Order duly started to inform Jengati that the wrath of the sons of a thousand worlds would be unleashed upon them.
However, before anything was able to be unleased on anyone, there was a short series of intermittent beeps followed what sounded like the grand opening bars of an opera. Horns blared and a heavy drum thundered. It was likely the sort of opera where love is about to be declared by a tight trousered lothario, which is most certainly rebuffed, and dramatic angst and consternation in song is to follow.
And angst and consternation seemed to be quite suddenly painted on the faces collected ship commanders.
“You have go to be shitting me,“ exclaimed the Zex group captain, his head in his hands.
Blaarg had muted his microphone but could be seen on the vid screen gesticulating wildly and becoming decidedly and quite visibly more bulbous as he did so.
The Grand Wizard, commander of the Holy Order fleet straightened himself, sat upright in his chair and pulled opened a comms channel.
“Welcome your emissaries,” he said in a calm and measured voice. “To what do we owe this pleasure?” he asked.
For a while there was nothing as the fleets waited. Once more the operatic music played, tailoring off until there was silence. A logo flashed up across all channels. 3 gold coins against the backdrop of a bright supernova suspended on a set of scales.
“Esteemed lords of the fleets, how convenient it is that we have arrived at this time, “ said a thin sharp voice. “My name is Val-Corvano, and I am the district manager of the Galactic Bank, and we are here to register our interest in the assets of this planet against the debts of your givernments”
Each of the captains sighed, warbled, or choked – whichever was appropriate for the expression of disgust, shock or wild disappointment.
The Grand Wizard muted his comms.
“What is it your eminence?” said the communications chief. “Is there a problem?”
“Accountants, “ said the Grand Wizard, his face forlorn and shoulders drooping. ”Tell the engine room to spin up the light drives, we’re heading home. There’s no fun to be had once the accountants arrive.”
Afterwards 