A Squabbling

Recently I joined a Christian teen writers' forum called Cleanplace (Joy will know the one) that has weekly challenges called Squabblings. This week, it was to write a 500-800 short story with the first line 'Some days it feels like the universe is conspiring against you, and some days, it really is' in 20 minutes. This isn't posted on Cleanplace yet because I'm waiting to make sure my slight edit of the first line is okay, but I rather liked it (for something written in 20 minutes), so for your reading pleasure...

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“Some days it feels like the universe is conspiring against you,” said Captain Robert Harlem, “and some days, it really is.” He thumped his fist on the control panel to emphasize the last two words. “Look at that bugger. Now I’m going to have to go out and pry him off.”

His apprentice, Lana Mulgrave, scooted over to grab the controls. She winced at the metallic crunching noises the creature attached to their hull was making. “Let me guess. This is why we don’t take shortcuts through asteroid belts.”

“Because roidlets will attach themselves to our hull? Very good,” said Robert, fumbling his suit from its cupboard.

“I’ll add it to my lexicon.”

A particularly painful – painful to Robert’s ears – crunch crackled loudly, and he glanced through their quartz windshield. “Egad, that thing is persistent. Keep me informed, Lana. I don’t want anything biting my head off while I’m getting rid of it.”

“Will do, Captain.”

Robert snatched a crowbar and a hammer before jamming his helmet on and activating his radio. He spun the handle of the airlock, slipping out and swiftly closing it again.

Outside, the stars were as bright as ever, but they were screened by every space captain’s bane – the asteroid belt. Robert scurried along the handholds of the Firefly’s hull, and heard his radio crackle to life. “All clear, Lana?”

“Roger that, Captain.”

He was nearing the parasitic roidlet, which was happily crunching away at metal, and he hefted crowbar and hammer. Beady eyes looked balefully up at him but the creature did not release its hold on the hull for an instant. Robert imagined the mouthful of teeth grinding into his pride and joy and groaned.

“He’s a nasty one, isn’t he?” Lana sounded impressed.

Robert squinted at her through the windshield. “Roger that, apprentice, and keep your eyes ahead of you.”

The near-spherical roidlet was almost embedded in his hull already. Robert jammed the crowbar between rock and metal and banged at it with the hammer. He felt the roidlet loosen almost immediately. A few more enthusiastic swings had it free, and with one snap of razor-sharp teeth – those things had jaws that opened over a hundred and eighty degrees wide – it floated off.

“That could have been much more painful. I’m coming back in, Lana.”

“Um – nope – Captain, space snake at five o’clock. Your five o’clock!”

Robert whipped around.

The gaze of the space snake paralyzed him momentarily. He muttered an expletive.

“Captain,” said Lana reproachfully over the radio.

“I know, I know! Activate stun baton!”

It crackled on his belt and Robert snatched the weapon from its casing. The serpent wound lazily closer.

“For reference, Lana,” he said into the radio, “this is why you always perform a weapons check before venturing outside your space vehicle.”

“I’ll add it to my lexicon.”

The snake struck, nearly snagging Robert’s arm between its long fangs. He winced and lashed out with the stun baton. The snake spasmed, whipping its long body around so that Robert was forced to huddle against the Firefly. He whacked it once more for good measure, and turned around posthaste to get back inside the ship.

Once there, he tugged off his suit and ran fingers through his hair. “Could have been a lot worse, that one. We still on course?”

“Yep,” said Lana from her perch at the control panel. She was gazing fixedly out the windshield.

When Robert slid into place beside her, he noted her white-knuckled grip on the controls. “What’s up?

“Captain,” she said, “did anyone ever teach you to be very nice to a baby bear, because mama bear won’t be too far away?” She pointed out the windshield.

Robert looked.

A hulking roidlet of astronomical proportions was drifting toward them, menacing gaze fixed on the Firefly, tiny roidlets floating in her wake. Robert noticed that one had bits of metal hull stuck in its teeth.

He groaned. Then, grimly: “I’ll add it to my lexicon.”