Imprisoned inside a fragile façade
yet your inner light still glimmers
hope leaks out from every pore
and your smile still shines from deep within.
Confined within the corporeal
plagued by withering pain
yet the force that the fans your flame
is fuelled by a sharper source.
Your spark will not be extinguished
your spirit will not be crushed
not yet, while there’s hope
for another, better day.
Written in response to Sadje’s What Do You See #42 photo prompt.
Image credit: Lucas Pezeta on Pexels
I open my mouth to speak but, suddenly tongue-tied, I close it again. I look to Harris for help.
‘So you didn’t beam us on to your ship, Mr Solo?’ Harris says calmly.
‘Why would I want to do that?’ He glares back. ‘And less of the Mr Solo, kid. You can call me Han.’ He lowers his gun.
I find my voice. ‘We’re sorry for the intrusion, Mr So.., er Han, ‘but your ship has just saved us from the Death Star. We’re very grateful.’
Han raises a quizzical eyebrow.
A low-pitched roar comes from beyond the rear hatch. ‘It’s all right, Chewy,’ Han shouts over his shoulder. It’s just a bunch of kids.’
A huge furry head appears.
‘Chewbacca! Way to go!’ Harris says delightedly. He nudges me with his elbow. ‘We’re actually on the Millennium Falcon!’
‘Can I see round your ship, Han?’ Harris almost begs. ‘The Millennium Falcon’s my favourite ever starship and that flight in hyper-drive was awesome!’
Han gives Harris one of his lopsided grins, while Chewbacca tosses his head and roars gently in what I assume is agreement.
‘Okay kid, I’ll show you around this bucket of bolts, but then we’re going to have to find somewhere to drop you and your ship off. I’ve cargo to pick up in the Kessel sector and I don’t need any extra passengers.’
Harris and Stevens bound towards the exit hatch. I follow more slowly, wondering whether we’ll actually be able to leave the ship. We’ve never managed to do so before. But I’m curious. Not so much about the famous Millennium Falcon, although I am rather keen on its present owner, but it occurs to me that we’ve never actually seen our ship from the outside.
But what might happen if we do leave the ship? I stop in my tracks at the entrance to the hatch.
‘What’s that, kid?’ Han turns to me.
I hadn’t realised I’d spoken out loud. ‘Our ship is powered by our minds and guided by our imaginations.’ I say by way of explanation.
Harris and Stevens have already joined Chewbacca outside the ship. ‘Never mind all that now, Jem,’ says Harris impatiently.
‘Sounds kinda weird,’ says Han.
‘We’ll tell you about it later.’ Harris is almost jumping up and down with excitement. ‘C’mon, Han, let’s go.’
As I step onto the ramp my stomach lurches and my knees start to buckle. I sit down abruptly.
‘Hey, are you all right, kid?’ Han crouches next to me.
‘I just feel a bit light-headed,’ I reply, trying to put on a brave face. ‘Our ship suddenly feels… less substantial…’
‘Low sugar. It’s the after effect of being in hyper-drive.’ Han looks up. ‘Chuck her one of those Banquet Bars, Chewy.’
Chewbacca rummages in a nearby cardboard box and throws me a crumpled package. The wrapper reminds me of a Snickers. I know the Earth-based confectionery company has been a multi-global for centuries; maybe they’ve changed the name in this galaxy.
Chewbacca nods encouragingly as I tear open the wrapper and take a bite, while Han pulls a communicator from his jacket and holds it out to me. ‘Go back inside and rest. Call me on this if… if anything should happen.’ He looks at the ship, frowning slightly.
As Harris and Stevens disappear through the hatch into the corridor beyond, the walls of our ship start to shimmer around me.
I have a bad feeling about this.
Will Jemma be all right alone on the ship? Will it still be there when Harris and Stevens return? Tune in next week for episode 6…
And if you we’re wondering what on earth (or off-earth) is going on,
you can catch up with the entire first series of Space Cadets here
Written in response to a prompt from Susan T. Braithwaite
Genre Scribes Friday Fiction Writing Challenge #50
The challenge this week was banquet.
Photo credit: Md Mahdi on Unsplash
Tarron had already disappeared when Sinead turned to wave farewell. She sighed and continued along the new path. It led downwards into darkness.
She held the Crystal aloft to light her way along the smooth-sided tunnel. Her other hand gripped her sword. Water dripped from the ceiling and ran down the walls in tiny rivulets; beyond that there was no sound apart from her footsteps.
She pressed on, senses alert to any sound or movement. Somewhere she would find the Key. The Prophesy Book offered only the instruction to ‘forge ahead’. Tarron had put her on the right path and all she could do was follow it.
The air thickened. Dust filled the tunnel, dimming the Crystal’s light. The blade of her sword started to glow, warning her of danger. But it came too late. Feeling a sharp blow to the back of her head, Sinead crumpled to the ground.
Image credit: Manuverse on Deviant Art
Previous episodes of Sinead’s Final Quest
Little innocent one, so new to the world,
sniffing the air and feeling the breeze.
Is there a place for you?
Little innocent one, so new to the world,
feeling the smoke sting your eyes.
I fear for you.
What will you do when they cut down the trees
and just a patch of your forest is left?
Where will you run when the hunters come
to take you far from your home?
Oh Humanity, think what you’re doing!
Don’t you know her fate
is our future too?
Written in response to Sadje’s What Do You See #41 photo prompt.
Image credit: Lewis Roberts on Unsplash
Without warning the Stormtroopers break ranks. Their faces are hidden behind their helmets but they’re clearly confused. The grey-uniform shakes his head in disbelief. ‘Where did it go?’ he calls out, waving his clipboard in exasperation.
Then it dawns on us. Our ship has cloaked itself like it did once before. They can’t see us!
‘We need to get out of here,’ says Harris, starting to push buttons on the control panel in front of him.
The viewing screen goes blank and I feel the ship start to move, but strangely I can’t hear the engines firing.
‘What’s happening?’ shouts Stevens, grabbing the arm of my seat.
All around us the ship begins to shimmer as if every particle is separating from its neighbour. I glance down; my body is becoming insubstantial too. My stomach heaves and I reach out to clutch Stevens’s outstretched hand. Air rushes past me. I grit my teeth.
Then with a jolt, everything stabilizes and comes back into focus. I hurriedly let go my grip on Stevens’s hand.
We hear an explosion coming from somewhere behind us and the ship judders. The sudden force flings us back in our seats.
‘Hyper-drive!’ yells Harris excitedly.
The ship continues to accelerate, but we’re blind. The viewing screen remains blank.
I struggle to turn my head in Harris’s direction. ‘Where are we going?’ My mouth moves in slo-mo and my words are elongated, drawn out by our superluminal speed.
A moment later the ship returns to sub-light speed and the viewing screen blinks into life. Expecting to find ourselves out in the enormity of space, we exchange puzzled glances. We appear to be crammed into a cargo hold. Inside another ship?
‘What the..?’ Harris removes his cap and scratches his head. ‘I wasn’t flying the ship?’
We hear running feet outside. ‘Get this damn thing open!’ an exasperated voice shouts.
We spin around in our seats as we hear the rear hatch of the flight deck open. A perplexed looking man, brandishing a gun appears.
‘Who the hell are you? And what are you doing on my ship?’
My heart misses a beat.
What next for our gallant cadets? Are they really on board the Millennium Falcon?
Will the Force be with them? Will Jemma swoon at Han Solo’s feet? Or will she remember her training and regain her composure? Tune in next week for episode 5…
And if you we’re wondering what on earth (or off-earth) is going on,
you can catch up with the entire first series of Space Cadets here
Photo credits: starwars.com
A figure appeared from behind the cave. It was Tarron, the elderly elf. ‘I fear the Sisters have become too powerful since the overthrow of the Oppressors,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry. This was not foreseen. They are now unwilling to relinquish their control and are intent on preventing you from taking the next step.’
‘They’ve taken Moonsprite.’
Tarron inclined his head. ‘Fear not. They would never dare harm a unicorn. While your paths must diverge once more, you will be reunited.’
‘The Orb and the Chalice have gone too.’
‘That which is required will be returned, but now you must continue on your own path, Sinead.’ He held out the Prophesy Book.
As she took it, the book fell open at a new final chapter. ‘Forge Ahead’.
‘The Freedom Key is still required and you must find it.’ Tarron pointed to a path. ‘The Deep Mines are close. Now go.’
Image credit: aglezerman on Deviant Art
Previous episodes of Sinead’s Final Quest
Walls have ears and doors have eyes
your every move is checked.
Where you’ve been, whom you’ve seen
Examine what you’ve done.
All treachery gets back to me
I’ve something on you all.
Have you pleased me? Did you deceive me?
Maybe you’re the one.
Unnatural needs, wicked deeds
Someone’s betrayed the Cause.
Now choose your cup and drink it up
Will poison be in yours?
Written in response to Sadje’s What Do You See #40 photo prompt.
Image credit: 五玄土 ORIENTO on Unsplash
Also inspired by ‘The Testaments’ by Margaret Atwood, which I finished reading over the weekend. A really splendid book. Here’s my review on Goodreads.
We hurtle towards the menacing dark sphere. Harris clutches an imaginary joystick in his right hand, steering the ship left and right, following the little fleet of star-fighters. Something clicks in my mind, but before I get the chance to process the thought we face a massive barrage of fire coming from a group of enemy craft that are streaming towards us from the sphere. Harris’s thumb is a blur as he rapidly returns fire. Fortunately our shields are holding up, but one of the small star-fighters is not so lucky. Caught head on by the incoming fire, the little craft explodes and breaks up. A ruptured wing cartwheels past the side of our viewing screen.
‘We’ve got to make him snap out of it!’ Stevens yells over the noisy warning siren.
We slide around the console, clinging to the edge as the ship lurches violently from side to side. Stevens takes Harris by the shoulders and shakes him vigorously, then I pinch and twist his nose, but his stare remains fixed and his hand clenched, working the imaginary control.
‘Coffee!’ exclaims Stevens. A smooth plastic tray holding steaming mug, accompanied by a chocolate-covered jam doughnut, obligingly appears. Stevens wafts the tray in front of Harris.
Roused by the sweet and bitter aromas, Harris blinks. He reaches for the coffee and takes a sip. He grins and grabs the doughnut, taking a big bite. ‘What’s happening?’ he asks blandly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
I glance at the screen. We’re almost on top of the sphere when we suddenly lose momentum. The ship starts to drift, while the battle continues to rage around us. Then we feel the ship move steadily sideways.
‘Who’s doing that?’ Stevens shoots a look at Harris. But Harris is still busy chewing, his right hand now gripping the coffee mug.
A dark faceless wall closes in around us. The viewing screen flashes a message:
WARNING! TRACTOR BEAM: WARNING!
The viewing screen blinks again, then adjusts. We’ve entered a vast hanger. Huge slanting numbers painted on the floor read ‘327’. A number of other ships are dotted about the cavernous interior. Various humanoids dressed in flight suits mill about, and a group of what appear to be prisoners is being led away by two grey-uniformed officials.
A line of soldiers, in shiny white armoured suits and matching domed helmets, marches menacingly towards our ship. Then it dawns on me.
‘Harris, you were playing one of those Star Wars arcade games!’
Harris’s eyes widen. He frowns and shakes his head. But before he has a chance to reply, one of the grey-uniformed officials strides up, clutching a clipboard. He lifts the top sheet of paper and writes something down, then glares up at us. ‘Open your hatches for inspection,’ he commands.
The shiny-armoured storm-troopers advance another pace. They level their blasters at the ship.
‘Oh no,’ says Harris slowly. ‘This isn’t good.’
‘You’re dead right it isn’t! You’ve landed us up on the Death Star, you idiot!’ yells Stevens in alarm.
My instinct is to hide. But where?
Will our gallant Space Cadets be arrested? Will they be made to face the Dark Lord?
Or will they suddenly wake up to find themselves somewhere else entirely?
Tune in next week for episode 4
And if you we’re wondering what on Earth (or off-Earth) is going on,
you can catch up with the entire first series of Space Cadets here
Written in response to a prompt from Susan T. Braithwaite
Genre Scribes Friday Fiction Writing Challenge #49
The challenge this week was paper.
Photo credit: http://www.wdwnt.com
Sinead relaxed at last, curled up in her cloak in the warm cave to which Eileran had brought them. Moonsprite stood dozing peacefully, her beautiful white mane carefully combed out by another of the Sisters. Eileran had brought food and the two Sisters had withdrawn, urging them to rest.
After so many weeks of uncertainty, everything was falling into place, just as had been foretold in the Prophesy Book. There were only two final challenges to face, and they were now amongst friends. Moonsprite whinnied softly in her sleep as Sinead slipped into peaceful slumber.
Sinead awoke with a start. The Crystal was pulsating. She freed it from her jerkin as she leapt to her feet. Its light flooded the cave. Moonsprite had gone. Sinead hurried to the cave mouth and looked out. The pale pre-dawn light revealed nothing but an empty beach and dark waves lapping on the shore.
Image credit: FuriousEnnui on Deviant Art
Previous episodes of Sinead’s Final Quest
In the world of plenty
a few crumbs falling
from the rich man’s table
is enough to sustain
a little hungry mouse.
Few crumbs fall
in the hidden world of shanty towns,
and now-idle factories;
gold mines and coal mines,
and drought-stricken farms.
You bemoan the closure of
your favourite restaurant
the theatres and the bars;
all the absent opportunities
for late night fun.
While the poor child huddles hungry
in his weeping mother’s lap,
you watch Netflix munching popcorn;
playing pointless games
on your fancy flashy phone.
Written in response to Sadje’s What Do You See #39 photo prompt.
Image credit: S Hermann and F Richter on Pixabay
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