Writing Attempts: The Floating Dead (WIP)

Well with all things I get bored or my brain just explodes with an assortment of ideas that are impossible to get down on page. I wanted to write a futureistic Sci-Fi tale for @MbraneSF over at twitter who publishes this awesome monthly Sci FI online thingy majig which has limited readership but it does have readers. What possessed me to even think I was talented enough to get in there I’ll never know… actually I do know, it’s my super geek ego.

Thing is, I got so far and thought it was crap… so here’s the rough starter to the story it’s only padding, I know what content I want and where it’s headed, I just don’t know how to put it into words.

“Space the final frontier…” the speaker of the D Class shuttle crackled to life the words of a show that must have been at least 200 years old.

Sean Denham liked the classics, to see the hope humanity had once had for the future, for space travel, faith and happiness were commodities that were long since lost in this unforgiving frontier. Something had gone horrifically wrong around the time the World Union had been formed, power shifted, conglomerates ruled the world and corporations if they had the cash could buy the seats to all the political tables and votes. Earth, the original one became infected, a stain on the galaxy and human kind had to move to the skies to survive.

Sean sat bolt upright in the cot, he was alone, always alone, greeted by the blackness of deep space 20 light years from Earth II and only 20 Earth days from the next fuelling station.

The sight before him had been the same for the past year and a half, flashing lights, the blackness of space beyond, it’s blacker then the shows would have you believe. Stars dance in the distance like LED lights, much like the fabled rainbows of Earth no matter how hard you try, you’ll spend a lifetime looking for your very own pot of gold.

Sean moved a few feet forward, a smell flared up his nostrils of sweat and piss. It was him, the D Class exploration vessel was a one man vessel if things broke, if washing facilities no longer wanted to be fixed or strained against the loads that were offered towards their miniature mouths, gagging on the sweat stained vests and piss stained shorts then who was Sean to complain? He was alone, well almost…

“Good morning Sean…” a voice chimed and a metallic face appeared on a view screen by the dash, it was Veronica, the ships AI. Sean grunted a tired “Mornin’” his distrust of Droid tech was monumental on at least six occasions in the past few days he’s accused Veronica of sabotage when it came to laundry facilities, now droids in this day and age grow accustomed to their users, their captains adapting to their moods and personalities on a whim, Veronica takes great pleasure in winding the Sean Denham, captain of the D Class Exploration Vessel ‘Ceaser’, today however was different.

Sean took his seat at the console to the ‘bridge’ which to be fair would be his bed had there not been three inches or so between the chair and the fold up cot.

Veronica looked to the left on the view screen, updating Captain Sean Denham on long range and short range scans, the current status and settings of the ship and the current time frame of reaching their destination.