Prompt: A wise-cracking super silly young genius space pilot wants to become captain of his fleet.
Max Intinny struggled to keep his eyes open, even with a gulf of stars before him. He hadn’t trained to look at stars, but to fly by them on the edge of human bravery and ingenuity. Right now his vessel, the Bonbon, coasted through the darkness and the purple nebula vapors lazily. Continue reading
Prompt: A dialogue-free story, rich with memories, of the sufferer of a mysterious ailment of the future while they are in quarantine.
One personal item was all they would allow. Many considered his an odd choice, but they couldn’t talk to him anymore, ask him why he picked something so reminiscent of his condition. All communication had to be done through written messages, and only when absolutely necessary. Continue reading
Prompt: Someone works on a space ship monitoring the ship’s heartbeat with a pair of headphones, but one day the headphones break.
The beat had been completely regular for more than a month. That was a month by the computer’s calculation of course, as none of the crew could keep track with so many stars and planets whizzing by. They were in for the long haul, one arm of the galaxy to the next, and any unscheduled stops could cost their employer trillions. Continue reading
Prompt: Two cougar pilots argue over the pronunciation of an alien word that could prevent the self-destruction of an ancient abandoned alien craft.
There were many titles that could’ve gone in front of her name. Major. Pilot. To some, savior. At the moment she was too full of venom to embody any of them. She was just Paula Babcock: a shouting woman with wild bedhead throwing things down the corridors of the space-faring vessel she commanded. Continue reading
Prompt: A tivas (galactic tennis) player from a planet similar to Earth plays in the biggest tournament while having to cope with the big war the planet is having and its dangers.
Tivas is the ultimate sport. That’s what my grandfather always told me. That was an interesting sentiment, considering he’d never played it himself, even as a hobby. All he did was watch it. When the tournament package became a little too expensive on the networks in our system, he enrolled me in classes for it. I’ve never really looked back. Continue reading
Prompt: A planet is held motionless by the gravitational equilibrium of a hundred stars: no seasons, no poles, no days or nights, and where the universe stalls, something else steps in…
Five ships approached, burning their night oil. It was best to use it now, because it would lose its name upon the surface of the planet. The planet had many names, those aboard the lead ship called it Ohn, but it had no nights. The darkness was one of many things stripped away from the planet by its remarkable position. Continue reading
prompt – A space monkey from a planet of apes crash lands in India.
The fruit set down just outside of the temple its occupants had targeted. It set down quietly, barely rustling the trees. It wasn’t born of any of them. It was born far off in the sky, and had fallen to Earth only temporarily. It had a few seeds inside it, but it sought to gather more. Continue reading
Prompt: The prompt for this story was actually a drawing of a small fishing boat near two giant creatures, one submerged in the water and one flying nearby.
The pterafriend pumped its wings and pulled them through the clouds swiftly, so its passenger wouldn’t get too wet in the process. What the passenger wanted to do exactly was not clear, he had some sort of strange vessel, but he was friendly enough, and the pterafriend offered rides to anyone and anything that was friendly enough. Continue reading
Prompt: A dragon steals the latest fighter craft from the human battleship.
Artillery shells exploded all around her as she tried to keep on her path through the otherwise clear skies. Pieces of shrapnel, aluminum hairs, landed in the gooey corners of her eyes and stung them. She roared, flashing her knife-like teeth, and tried to dig them out with the side of her hand. The weapons didn’t stop. They weren’t like the weapons of old; there was always somebody manning those, somebody who might grow a soul and stop attacking. Continue reading
Humanity of all stripes was gathered around the giant monitor. It was an autumn day and they were sheltered from the biting wind as it crumbled leaves against the building’s glass wall. It was the Institute for Colonial Communication: a building that had been mostly without a purpose for close to a hundred years. Every so often workers would come in and update the equipment as technology progressed, and some of those workers, now quite aged, were there to see it take effect.
The colony ship had been launched one hundred and twenty years ago. Things went well on the journey, as well as anyone could hope hurtling through space at varying incomprehensible speeds. Communication was constant if uneven. Everyone knew it would end when they landed on GM1. Continue reading
Blaine Arcade 