Hello and welcome to another episode of Weekend Writing Warriors. I’m up to my eyeballs in edits, so I’ll cut to the chase and tell you that I’m continuing with my space opera in progress, From Mars, With Love. I’ve jumped ahead a bit. Eli has yet to come up with a plan to escape from a ship in space, so he has some time to reflect.
Eli had harbored a deep and stupid desire to be a pilot ever since he’d first seen a Lunar Freighter launch out of Manhattan Harbor. The sight had made him aware of the limitless possibilities of space half a second before he realized a dump rat like himself had zero chance of making it onto the crew of a space ship, much less piloting one. He found it grimly amusing that his one shot at traveling beyond Earth came from being slave fodder.
Space travel turned out to be less enjoyable than he’d imagined. As soon as the shuttle docked the Cruiser dropped away from the gravity well of the huge sweeping vessel and they freefell into clear space. His stomach tried to crawl out of his ears and his blood didn’t know which way to flow. Then the thrusters kicked in and they got pressed down like grass under a boot and off they went into pre-sling launch mode. Eli said a mental goodbye to his mate Rilke and wondered if he’d ever see him or Earth again.
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