2-14:On the road to nowhere
Another ship loomed past and for the first time she saw the wreckage in orbit around the planet; one of the many Earths that she could call home. The ship was a JAG and it was doubtless about to activate.
She was surprised therefore when it was enveloped in a green glow — the result of a jump net wrapping around its hull — and imploded.
Another ship crashed through the wreckage and hurtled onwards into another battle.
Daisy switched on incoming, and the speaker burst to life.
‘Rook to Victory – We’re not retreating, over.’
She’s alive, thought Daisy. Is this the battle she was talking about?
‘Daisy,’ said a familiar voice. Was it Prime?
Daisy turned in the seat, feeling immediately dizzy. Her mouth was suddenly dry, like she was dehydrated, and she felt herself falling…
BZORNT!
She woke with a killer headache, the memory of the last reality terrifyingly clear. She checked between her legs and then her chest where she found her sex was the same and there was no blood.
‘Daisy,’ said a familiar voice. Was it Prime?
Daisy Penfolde slowly opened her eyes and felt herself being lifted up from the deck of The Lash.
‘You okay,’ asked Prime.
Daisy was shocked for a moment, her mind locked, then slowly she managed to speak.
‘Yeah. The jump knocked me about.’
‘It always knocks you about.’
Daisy wriggled from Prime’s hands and stood back against the wall.
‘What’s wrong?’
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There are a few ways to describe one's self when effectively trying to mask the fact that you're a complete hermit and spend your entire existence behind a computer screen sipping hot tea and eating cakes. The first would be to suggest that you're somewhat introverted and avoid coffee. Another might be to suggest you're a fan of Apple Macs but are cutting-down from the 6 you used to have to an even two (Macbook and Mac Mini in turn). Finally you might choose to say that despite the massive pay-drop, this writing thing is quite a lark isn't it? Not to mention enjoying the creative life a lot more than mindless tedium in corporate jobs, working the 40 hour week to the drumming of endless meetings and political intrigue that would have made Machiavelli blush and hand his pen over to the corporate slugs that run companies these days. Enough said really.
