Here’s my entry for Trifecta Week 97. We were asked to use the word “ass” in a postpositive sense. Having fun with that one yet? It means that I got to write a story with “dumb-ass” as a key word. It’s short (333 words, so long-ish for Trifecta) and a little silly, but here, nonetheless, is “Stranded.”
“You know, sir,” Nolan said, finally finding his voice. “Dumb-ass over there has a point. If we don’t get back in the next three hours, the ship will leave without us.”
“Yeah,” Beckett chimed in. “Because he’s the one who set the auto-pilot before leading us out on some wild-pteranodon chase.”
“I want a pteranodon,” Shyle murmured, continuing his doodle in the sand.
“Not the point, Shy. Also, Beckett? Weird expression. Don’t use it around Shyle again. You know how he gets. And Nolan?”
“Yessir?”
“You’re right. I hate to say it, but Harker’s right too. We’ve got to get in high gear if we’re going to make it back to the ship. Harker. How far off course are we? Never mind. Don’t talk. Beckett, ping the ship. Get us a route plotted, double time.”
“On it, sir.”
“Nolan?”
“Commander?”
“I don’t care if it’s true or not. Don’t call Harker a dumb-ass. He’s still a part of the team.”
“But he was wrong! There was nothing out here. Not a scrap of salvage. Nothing worth even making the trip, not to mention the risk of getting stranded.”
“Hey guys?” Beckett called. “I’ve got a course to the ship, but you’re not going to like it.”
“Why not?”
“Well, sir, take a look. According to Harker, we’ve now got under three hours to make it back to override the autopilot, right?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Because according to the beacon, the ship is currently ten klicks farther than our original touchdown point. Which means either we’ve gone way past what our suit gauges say we’ve traveled, or…”
“Or someone’s moved the ship. Damn. Where’s a pteranodon when we need speed?”
“Said I couldn’t have one,” Shyle mumbled.
“Keep drawing, Shy. Where’s that leave us, Beckett?”
“In a word, sir? Screwed.”
“How screwed, scale of 1-10.”
“Shut up, Nolan. Go sit with Harker.”
“Uh, Commander?”
“What, Nolan?”
“Harker’s gone, sir.”
“Beckett?”
“Ship’s gone too.”
“Crafty son of a bitch…”
“Yes sir.”
“What now, Commander?”
“Hope for pteranodons.”
The Swords of the Ancients 
8 Comments
I LOVE this. Like, seriously. Enough to actually comment on it. And I giggled at “I want a pteranodon”. Excellently done.
This is another one I really wanted to expand on as soon as I started it. Unfortunately, that was about forty-five minutes before the deadline. Fortunately, I made you giggle. I knew the pteranodon would do it. Can you guess which character was inspired by your child? 😀
I KNEW IT!
Hehehehehehe.
Love it. It has a brisk pace and great dialogue.
Thank you, Draug!
Awesome dialogue and love the group dynamics you got across.
Thanks for linking up!
You’re most welcome. Thank you!