The little boy's idea of heaven

Confinement

The brilliant light faded, and I lowered my arm to… a circus? Green grass, white tents flying multi-colored pendants, rides whizzing about, and blue sky with lazy clouds. The last cell I’d scoured couldn’t have been more different: burning stones ringed by lava. Here’s boundary was a rough, waist-high, wooden fence which couldn’t keep anyone in.
Everyone turned and stared

Gifted

Fanfare erupted from the speakers at my station. Speakers I’d thought purely ornamentation until that moment. For weeks we’d labored in stoic silence, not even daring to speak to each other as we unraveled the code the travelers had gifted us with. Code we either solved or another of their machines awoke to transform a chunk more of the world into a lifeless wasteland.
Fyretober 2021

Space Librarian

Tara enjoyed the quiet working off shift on this report granted her. Not that her domain was every noisy. Comprised of a counter, three computers, several more tablets, and a locked closet behind her the room was little more than a closet, but it was Tara’s. Outside of the labs, the mess, and other common rooms it was downright spacious for Farfell Station.
Fyretober 2021

Spaceship Ghosts

A loud thump echoed through the ship from somewhere in the crew section of the ship. Ian quirked an eyebrow up not bothering to straighten from slumping in the pilot’s chair. Not even when the string of expletives followed the sound. That thump had resembled Alex hitting a bulkhead and not equipment crashing or glitching. She’d be along quick enough. Boots thumping on the plate deck sounded before he’d finished the thought. Tucking his hands behind his head, Ian slouched further into his seat.