Happy Blog Day Everyone!
This week, I'm debuting a new semi-regular feature. Short Diversions. This will be were I post some Short fiction. It might be related to one of my other works, or it might just be something that popped into my head on Sunday evening. I'll explain more about the first piece, The Cockpit, below but this won't be a weekly thing. I'd love to aim for fortnightly, but I've also got a lot going on. You will see this feature again though, mark my words.
Before all that though, let's see what Brennan and Riz have gotten up too this past week...
The Comic Tales of Brennan and Riz
This was a strip I struggled with, the drawing side at least. I knew exactly what I wanted to happen the moment I has the idea, it was just getting it down on paper. I had to rework all of it several times before it got to this point, and even then (as always) I'm not thrilled with it.
Short Diversions: The Cockpit
I promised more original short story content, and starting today, I'm delivering it!
This feature will hopefully be more frequent than a one shot but probably shouldn't be expected more than twice in a month...if I manage that!
First up, we're going to take a trip back to the world of Vector Unit Regen: Orphan War. I've spoken about this series a couple of times, most notably here. A brief recap, Orphans War, is set on a future earth, a blasted to hell and back earth. Those who can, live in the domes for protection and a better life. Those who can't, struggle in the lawless wastes. This is where our main characters enter the scene, Drake and Ava Vern, a pair of "Silvers" (a term used because all of those born outside the domes have silver eyes, marking them out).
This short is set after Drake has made the dark decision to join the Atlantis Empire in order for Ava to receive medical treatment...
Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you,
The Cockpit
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It was quiet, aside from the low hum of the computers and Drake’s own breathing. his vision focused on the blank screen in front of him. The whole environment closed in on him, being as restrictive as the collar they’d clamped around his neck. A measure, they claimed, to continually check his vitals for any irregularities, but Drake knew that its purpose was to ensure his obedience. When they looked at him, they only saw a disposable soldier, a slave, all because of the colour of his eyes. Still, he told himself that he had to endure it, he had to play along with their games, all for the health of his sister. He needed their advanced medical knowledge to heal her.
Trying to control his breathing while waiting for the inevitable call to action, he turned the best he could, taking in what he could see of the cockpit. There were a myriad of buttons. Some of them were switches, others levels. He had no idea what they did, their instructions of the exercise boiled down to: “We’ll tell you what to push when.” The approach designed to make sure orders were followed to the latter. A form of brainwashing if repeated enough, which they did with abandon. The silver scum, as they saw them, having free will , needed to be stomped out.
Staring at the buttons on his right, he tried to figure out their functions, wanting to kill some of the time, and he was positive that the waiting was on purpose as well. The last time they had done an exercise like this, they’d kept him in there for almost an entire day without any food or drink. If they were testing his endurance, he’d have preferred them to tell him that up front, at least he knew what he was up against. Closing his eyes, he focused on the hum of the machinery, his ‘shifting attention’ a strategy of his to avoid losing himself to the deprivation of senses that this exercise inflicted.
A burst of static came across the radio, being fed straight into his helmet.
“Silver zero zero seven nine, did you copy me?” a cold female voice spoke, as a trainer to a pet. It made Drake’s skin crawl, that number was repeated to him day and night. There was a promise of a time when it would cease, but that would be the day that he proved his worth to them, and his unwavering allegiance, like so many of his cohorts had done in the past. Drake involuntarily shuddered at that thought, though he lacked the power to change that currently..
“I copy you. Am I to start the session?” Drake replied, matching the cold tone of the operator. He saw no need to reply any differently. They didn’t see him as a person after all.
“Not yet,” came the blunt reply. “There’s been an issue and your session has been delayed again. Hold your position and await further instructions.”
Hold your position. An odd command to give when he didn’t have any control unless they gave him it. He wondered what had happened, what this issue was. He had theories, but with his cameras switched off, he couldn’t confirm anything. The last time this happened, one less trainee sat at their table for their meagre meals.
With nothing else to do, Drake allowed himself to daydream. He thought of the life before, well before his sister’s illness, even further back to before their parents died. That had been a world away from the steel coffin he found himself encased in. Another radio call interrupted his reverie, bringing back to his bleak present.
“Issue has been taken care of, you may began the session Silver Zero Zero Seven Nine.”
All the systems around him stirred into life at the behest of an external master, the camera ahead of him booted him up, giving him a look at the hangar where his machine had been stood. Drake took a deep breath and then repeated the response they’d wanted to hear.
“Silver Zero Zero Seven Nine, heading out.”
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There you have it folks, hope you all enjoyed that!
Till next time,
Keep on writing!
Peter James Martin
Quick Links
The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Volume 1
The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Book 1: A Boy and A Rat
The Strange Tales of Brennan and Riz Volume 2
Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Volume 1
Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Fade to Noir
Malarkey's Imaginomnibus Hubble Bubble
Harvey Duckman Presents Volume 13
