A3Writer: F3 Graveyard
1001 Nights (4) Abraham (11) Aphrodite (3) Apocalypse (6) Apollo (4) Arabian (4) Artemis (5) Arthur (12) Athena (3) Bard (1) Ben Slater (13) Bible (57) Celtic (2) Character File (2) Chinese (1) Christian (6) Conferences (30) creation myths (15) Criminalelement (11) Dark Winds (22) Demeter (10) Don Iverson (4) Eden (5) Enchanter (16) essay (9) F3 (397) (1) Fairy Tales (14) Family (2) Flood Myth (8) Flynn (75) Greek (66) Guest (1) Hades (10) Hercules (9) Hestia (2) Hindu (2) History Prof (22) Holiday (12) Holiday Myths (6) Incan (1) Iranian (2) Japanese (1) Job (21) Judges (3) Knowledge Myths (3) Library (8) Life (121) Love Gods (4) M3 (193) map (13) Matt Allen (132) Medieval (7) Metamyth (5) Misc Flash (36) monthly chart (21) Movies (6) Myth Law (2) Myth Media (4) NaNoWriMo (22) Noah (5) noir (9) Norse (10) Odyssey (8) Persephone (13) Perseus (14) Persian (1) Poseidon (1) Prometheus (8) publishing (24) ramble (113) Review (1) Sam Faraday (30) Samson (14) Sci Fi (15) science (1) Serial (38) short story (14) Spotlight (8) Storm Riders (52) Teaching (136) Tech (18) Transformation (5) Travel (27) TV (10) TV Myth (1) Underworld (6) Vacation (15) vampires (18) W3 (11) WIP (13) Writing (166) Writing Tools (16) Zeus (7)

Friday, February 22, 2013

F3 Graveyard

            Battlefields in space are nothing like those planetside. Planetside, everything is nice and grounded. Gravity keeps things in place, minimizes the effect. Sure, the landscape gets pretty torn up, but enough time passes and that’s all erased by weather.

            In space, everything lingers. A battle between two ships can spawn debris that circles the system for years, maybe until the star burns out. There’s not much, sure, especially compared to the other flotsam in a system. Fleets, though, are a different story.
            Commander Peter Flynn looked over the remnant of the battlefield. The Alliance Fifth and Third Fleets had just driven off the Hierarchy’s Ever Glorious Fleet. One hundred and twenty Alliance ships against ninety-five of the enemy. The Third Fleet was gone. Four ships survived, two of which were beyond repair and going to be scuttled. The fifth fleet fared better with thirty ships surviving. Seventeen of the enemy made it out.
            Over a hundred and fifty ships out there. The amount of wreckage humbled him. Worst of all, it still moved. It would forever be moving, unless the Alliance dispatched a clean-up. They won’t, though. Not for this system. The Hayak system was nothing. Disputed territory in name only. The colony that once existed here had long been abandoned due to constant raids. The system was a convenient locus for jumps to other systems, but it was resource poor. It had strategic value, but little else. And now it would be a graveyard. The twisted, exploded metal that once made up gleaming starships kept drifting, haunting the system with its tale of what happened here.