In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “I Was Here.”
The planet we were meant to land on is three thousand light years to the west, but I suppose that’s what I get for letting Jeremy pilot the ship. In all honesty, he did warn me that he had no sense of direction and that finding his own nose was a challenge most days, but really?
This ship as an automated steering system. I’d already typed in co-ordinates in, we were all set, all Jeremy had to do was press go and woosh! He could sit back and watch the stars burn by one by one. He wasn’t supposed to ignore the system and try flying for himself.
Do you know what he told me? He told me that he had a hunch. A bloody hunch that contradicted the computer with an IQ three hundred times his own. I should have put his bloody head through the control panel, but that would have left us stuck here.
Then again we are stuck here until the next re-fuelling vessel can detour our way and stock up the tanks.
Until then we’re parked up in a bog and I’m pretty sure the ground stabilizer aren’t working all that well. Sammy’s convinced we’re three inches lower today than we were yesterday. She keeps checking the landing struts with that marker of hers. muttering on about something and nothing instead of actually trying to fix the problem.
I tell you, the Guild lumped me with a right set of idiots this time.
Geniuses the lot of them, but idiots all the same. They’ll be lucky if I don’t toss them all to the marshes and be done with it. I could say it was an accident if that re-fuelling vessel ever arrives.
Capitan’s Comments On The Terrain: Even more of a shit-hole that the last forsaken place we landed on, and that’s saying something.