Community Event / Creation Abraka Drabble: The Maintenance Poll

Who do you think is the best writer about "Maintenance"?

  • (A) - Perseus

    Votes: 1 6.7%
  • (B) - Cathy

    Votes: 8 53.3%
  • (C) - Darren Grey

    Votes: 2 13.3%
  • (D) - psykokow

    Votes: 2 13.3%
  • (E) - Scorpio

    Votes: 1 6.7%
  • (F) - Ian Phillips

    Votes: 1 6.7%

  • Total voters
    15
Vote for your favourite writer for the subject set by the last winner, Ian Phillips, who asked for drabbles about "Maintenance".

Voting closes Monday 13th May, High Noon. So remember folks, vote early, vote often.
 
(A) - Perseus

How much?!

The chief dock-jock scratched his chin, then his forehead before sliding his hand over his bald crown and rapidly rubbed the back of his neck. His mouth was fixed in a flat grin that could have been either pain or mirth. It was a time honoured posture of exploitation dating back to the first wheeled wagons. He sucked air through clenched teeth and squinted.
“8,000 credits, all in. These Couriers, nice lookin ships but the drives’ more arty-farty than a Uranian pillow-pounder. Needs servicing more often too.”
“And the warranty?" I sighed
The techy shrugged, smiling sincerely “Useless here, skipper.”

(A)
 
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(B) - Cathy

Maintenance

"You forgot!"

"Hmm?" Larry peered over his cornflake mix, mouth still sealed around the tube.

"You forgot, didn’t you?"

Larry sucked slowly. Frank seemed agitated – scared even – clumping towards him down the cramped corridor, his fists hitting bulkheads as he fought zero-g. Was Frank trying to run?

"It was your turn!"

Larry frowned. Suck... chew… swallow. He blinked up at his business partner. It wasn’t like Frank to yell. He glanced around the cockpit for inspiration. He got nothing.

"To what?"

“To replace the seals on the bio-waste containment. Now there’s six weeks’ worth of crap sailing our way."

(B)
 
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(C) - Darren Grey

A Hard Life

Ain’t easy bein’ a techie. Some think this job’s a doddle, but short of wiping a Thargoid’s a*se for a living there ain’t a job in the galaxy worse than mine.

Don’t believe me? Well, you try laser-searing hull plates on the station’s rim, centripetal force pulling you off as your mag-boots slip on coolant oil. You have fun scraping the stains off the station windows from some dumb pilot couldn’t dock properly!

Barely got time for a cuppa some days. I tell ya--

“Second Technician, please report to the refectory. The vending machine is broken.”

Oh hell, not again…

(C)
 
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(D) - psykokow

Flacid Response

After many weeks of flying around the frontier Commander ****** was having great difficulties keeping it up.
Despite many attempts and pulling back hard on the stick, it had no effect, he still couldn't get it back up.
He remembered the last time it worked, it was a beautiful moment.. both bodies sparkling in the night, making sweet synchronised music together with one finally exploding in a orgasmic burst of raptuous light.
Maybe he should have listened to that tech and had his flight control system replaced, too late now.. as the surface of Lave rose sharply to greet him.

(D)
 
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(E) - Scorpio

Feeling deflated

Commander Singleton's eyes filled with tears as he stared at the shiny pink skin of his 1st Mate.
' This is the end old girl ',
he said, as her curled peroxide head sagged to one side.
' I,ve searched maintenance high and low ',
he sobbed.
' But were all out of puncture repair kits '.
' Farewell Darling'
Squeaked the 1st Mate.
' We were great together '.

(E)
 
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(F) - Ian Phillips

Relaxing

The warm light of a new star stroked the hull of the explorer class vessel as it emerged from hyperspace. A red light started flashing.

'OK, old girl, time for a scrub down'

The pilot unstrapped and, grabbing a handhold, moved towards the storage bay in supple, practiced moves. Once there he placed the nanobot container in the airlock and sealed the inner doors.

Back in the cockpit he sent instructions to activate the nanobots and opened the outer doors.

Then, whilst nanobots crawled over the hull the pilot settled gratefully down into the warm caress of his massage chair.

(F)
 
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