I haven’t posted in a while. I’ve been busy working on a novel. Go figure. But here’s a ditty I wrote with my group just yesterday. Very stream of consciousness—I had no idea where I was headed. But l like it and could see it fleshed out sometime in the future. But for now, enjoy…

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“This is the starship Solstice requesting permission to land.”

“What is the nature of your visit, Solstice?”

“R&R and a Level 10 maintenance review.” That was the premier service level, so bound to get noticed.

“Permission granted. Proceed to docking bay 7. Welcome to Earth.”

Captain Myia Ort nodded toward her helm, her pilot initiating docking procedures. “Let’s get some rest, everyone,” she announced shipwide. “See you in one week.”

A week. Would that be enough time? There were a lot of fences to mend. Where to begin? Back in her quarters, she closed up her luggage and headed toward the airlock. It was tough leaving Solstice in the hands of others for a moment, never mind a week, but the ship needed tender loving care and not the kind this captain was qualified to give. “See you later Sol. Behave,” she said as she closed the door to her quarters.

“Likewise, Captain,” the ship responded. “Stay out of trouble this time, promise?”

“Promise.”

Was it bad to lie to a computer? Not like Sol could follow her down the space elevator to the surface. Still, she felt a twinge of betrayal.

Her crew dispersed into the crowd, taking various cars down. None were in hers. Tourists, gabbing about whatever trip they’d returned from—Mars, Io. Even the moon was a thrill for some, those who couldn’t afford the more exotic destinations. Some day she’d go on a tour herself. Always wanted to see Ganymede. Once the patrols could stop. She watched a child tug on his parent’s sleeve. He was holding a model rocket, like one of the early Apollo missions. A big smile.

He had no idea what it took to hold the peace that made these tours possible. Six months in space for Myia and her crew. Tense missions out to the asteroid belt and beyond, looking for traffickers, pirates, buyers and sellers of everything from human flesh to space junk. Every planet’s orbit littered with the debris of human commerce. Spent rocket stages. Space stations turned into illegal brothels. Children sold to mining companies looking for anyone small enough to crawl through a hole and dig out rare ore, minerals needed for the blossoming tourism industry dependent on fuel, metals, and gases—the hazards be damned.

But that was behind her now, for a week at least. She checked in to the Guardians’ headquarters, delivering her log, personally. The Guardians contracted with Earth’s many governments to keep the peace in space, investigate crimes, and offer a visible presence intended to deter trouble, but really just letting the criminals know where they aren’t so they can get there first.

Don’t think about that.

Myia made her way to the nearest transport hub. Time to pay a visit home. See if anyone was still talking to her after what she did. Arresting the family matriarch didn’t endear her to the clan.

“May you spiral into a black hole,” Uncle Pluvio spat at her, like a curse. It nearly came true. Not a black hole, but the Solstice nearly crashed after that pirate lobbed a bot bomb into her open shuttle bay in the dead zone between Jupiter and Saturn.

To be continued?

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Now the obligatory sell. If you like my writing, check out my novel Endurance. If you like Endurance (or Wishbone or A Perfect Life), consider leaving a review on Goodreads or Amazon. They help readers decide what to read, so think about it. Doesn’t have to be much or stressful. This isn’t a book report (do they still do those?). And thanks!