Christian Oesterling - Blank Space - Into the Depths of the Universe

‘Look, I’m not saying that it was rigged, but Forman’s jump to take the lead was dodgy, to say the least.’

‘Forman is a top-class driver, and the fact he was pushed onto that track by Ingirislad made him desperate. Anyone would be in that position, having to go around the longer route. They were only just generating the track as he was getting to it; even Yuki knows that you can’t drive on a track that hasn’t been generated yet.’ Yuki looked up from her drink.

‘Don’t look at me; I don’t know anything about the HyperGP. My ex used to watch it, and that’s about it. That and the fact that Kneyllyl seems to win everything.’ Leon grimaced.

‘Hey, Celestria’s getting themselves up there slowly, but they’ve only had a team for the past 30 years, somehow,’ he replied.

‘They seem to be at the forefront of everything else,’ Holden said.

‘Just not Hyper racing apparently. Although didn’t Ingirislad drive for them at some point in the past?’ Duma inquired. Leon nodded.

‘A few seasons ago. Had a massive rant about having to let Zane Huntersdome past on the final lap of the Hell Vayley race and said that unless they raised his pay to 3000Zale a race he was leaving.’

‘I’m assuming they didn’t,’ Duma said, ‘judging by the fact he’s now racing for VRT.’

‘That they didn’t. Shame too, considering he’s now second in this season’s championship, and only got it stolen from him that last race with a cheating Forman coming from the sidetrack off the edge and slamming down onto the track in front of him three corners from the end. I mean, how’s a guy going to defend against that? His team didn’t even tell him that Forman was coming along.’

‘Don’t they say that the communications go crap for about a minute along that stretch though Leon?’ Holden asked.

‘Oh down through Canyon yeah they lose the coms, but you think someone would have told him that it was possible Ingirislad would jump him,’ Duma pointed out.

‘Exactly my point, thank you, Duma. Look, I acknowledge that Forman is a good driver and all, and I recognize that Ingirislad forced him wide onto the Riviege, but I still think that Forman had some sort of help. They were wheel to wheel going onto that straight, and somehow, even taking the longer road, Forman jumps off back onto the main track well ahead of Ingirislad. I mean, there’s clearly something wrong there.’

The crew continued the conversation over their first flight meal, which consisted of sludgy, different colored pastes that were flavored to suit the wished for food. Although the same substance in everything but the flavor, Holden was eating a roast, Duma a chili, Leon a burger, and by their side, Yuki and Prissy were devouring into their lasagne-flavored meals. Oliver had gone back to check the bridge and cockpit during the phase-out of communications range, whilst Jenny was checking that all of her nicely polished weapons were still pristine condition. The whole crew was contented to talk Hyper sport, money, family issues, politics, any topic which happened to come up. Yuki had certainly been on worse trips, one particular venture had been hell thanks to a certain member of the crew bullying her for her ancient earthen oriental heritage and accent. It seemed that on the whole, the seven crew members were knitting together nicely.

It was during a particularly heated conversation between Leon and Prissy over what should be done about a small planetary colony on Crisander.7R which was engaged intense negotiations with the locals, that Oliver came in over the coms system.

‘Guys, we’re just heading out of communications range with Outpost 73, so I don’t know if you want to do anything special like do a handstand, but we are about to be on our own in a few minutes.’ There were nervous exchanged of looks around the dinner table, and it seemed that for the first time, it was really sinking in that if something were to happen, there would be absolutely nobody to help them. Celestria was going out of reach, Outpost 73 was just a crackling and a fading speck on a screen, the Empire Of Humanity was going to be a distant past, save for a lone spaceship voyaging out, treading the void of the blank space. Nightingale would be the furthest life for the empire, for anything that their species knew, it was a landmark for which any lost traveler that had failed their warp and ended up there would look for to get a grip on reality, and hopefully find their way home. Before Nightingale’s explorations, gods forbid anyone who would end up in this hell of nothingness.

‘Finally getting there then Oliver, wherever there is exactly,’ Prissy said.

‘There is nothing, Prissy,’ Duma replied.

‘There’s nothing that we know of,’ she countered. Duma considered this thought and then raised his eyebrows.

‘Touché, I stand corrected.’

‘Don’t be stupid, you’re still probably right.’ The group laughed, a certain anxious spark in all of their voices as if a static were stuck in their throats.

‘Well if there is anything,’ Jenny said, walking into the room through the door with a pistol in hand, ‘they’ll have to get through me first.’ Holden and Duma wolf-whistled as Jenny posed against a wall, one leg up to her other knee, a profile on, gun raised as she looked at them and winked.

‘You’ll make the next series of Charlene’s devils yet Jenny, of that I have no doubt,’ Holden jeered. She aimed past him, in mock badass-stance.

‘Mr. Monster, I’m afraid you’re going to hell.’ The crowd laughed and clapped their approval, and Jenny pretended to fire. There was the sound of the weapon shooting, and a hole was blasted in the wall.

‘Holy crap you actually fired!’ Leon shouted. Prissy leaped to her feet and ran for a panel on the wall. She entered a code and opened up a hatchway to grab a canister of Hull-Repair-Spray. She jumped over the table as an alarm began to ring above them, a red warning light flashing in the center of the room. She shook the canister furiously as the men moved out of the way. Prissy aimed, and a white, creamy spray came from the nozzle. It latched itself onto the hole and she filled in the gaping hole with the stuff.

‘Sorry guys,’ Jenny apologized, walking over to the room’s Halo-Core to turn off the wailing that was beginning to grate at their ears. ‘I forgot I turned the safety off the thing down in the testing bay to make sure it was still fire-worthy. It’s only an XF-43 Alpha, so I thought it might be a little rusty.’

‘Who the hell is firing at my ship?’ Oliver barked over the coms. ‘If she’s got a hole in her by the time I get down there I might start crying, howling to an invisible set of moons, or shooting one of you instead.’ Leon answered this plea for knowledge of how his beauty was doing.

‘Jenny didn’t turn the safety back on and XF-43 Alpha after testing it.’

‘Why’ve we got a 43 on here anyway? Nightingale’s tip-top, best of the best, we should have 56’s at least.’

‘Because,’ Jenny explained, ‘this is Celestria we’re working for. You can make as much sense as you want, and that planet will still screw you over.’ There was a brief pause.

‘You know Jenny,’ Oliver began, ‘You’ve just put a hole in my baby girl. She’s barely been going an hour, and there’s a whacking great big hole in her. But you’ve just said one of the truest of truths, and I’m only going to request a single punch to your arm to make up for it. A hard one mind, you may be a woman but you’re in charge of weapons so I think that makes it even. That fair?’ In the dining area, Jenny grinned.

‘I think that’s a fair exchange Oliver. We out of range yet?’

‘Almost, a few seconds left. Say goodbye to everyone until we return.’ Duma got up and went over to a cabinet, pulling out six plastic martini glasses. He reached into it lower down and extracted a bottle, on the side the label read ‘Black Mariner.’ He brought the glasses and the bottle over and poured the beverages out. After they were poured, he looked at the bottom of the bottle and shook it slightly.