He sat in his ship, the last echoes of the explosions still ringing in his ears and looked out across the expanse. Wreckage as but tiny dots in the distance and the Sansha station loomed but there was a calmness, a peace.
“Home. I needs ta be home, now.”
He sighed and the ship pivoted like a hound searching for a scent, until it pointed in a new directions. Engines lit, critical speed attained, off he shot. Not long later but many lightyears away the ship docked at a station. He slowly shut down channels, comms and took another moment of peace before exiting the ship. A short stop to drop off presents for a few of the people in the station but he was not home, not yet.
He headed for the shuttle down to the planet but was stopped by a familiar voice. “No, your ride is arranged.”
He smiled, turned and surprised Free with a hug that lifted her off her feet. “Arranged?”
She lead him to a side hanger where a sleek private planetary interceptor waited. “I do not want you taking commercial shuttles, anymore. So here we have your ride to the surface today.”
“That,” Mike said “Is a NAS with a full loadout. Are we droppng into a hot zone?”
Free looked at him and smiled. “It is the holidays at Tantas. Of course it is a hot zone. But I also did some investigations and I do not want you making yourself an easy target. So you ride down in an assault ship and you will not complain.”
Mike smiled. “Ma’am” and let her lead him aboard the ship. An hour later he was home. More exactly? He walking into the chaos of cooking, cleaning, voices and laughter, music in the background that made a lot of the people step to the timing and spin out of each others way like a well choreographed dance.
It was several hours before he managed to get Free alone out on the porch and followed up. “So, who wants me dead, now?”
It has been a while since I sat down to write and I feel it building up pressure. I also have two books to hand make for my daughters over the next few days for Christmas. When they were almost 2 decades younger I told them stories that I would make up as I went along. They loved them and always wanted me to write some down.
So a story or two, a recipe or instructions for ‘how dad does things’ And a reminder that some people still write in cursive. Take that!
This has been a year, hasn’t it? I think the next post will be a end of the year summary but if you have made it this far? Suffered through my intermittent posts? Thank you. I hope that you have the merriest of Christmases or whatever mid-winter celebration you eschew.
fly it like you won it