Elite: Dangerous Newsletter Drabbles (100 Word Stories)

Welcome to my page of Elite: Dangerous drabbles. These are 100 word stories set in the Elite: Dangerous universe and posted in the game newsletters and fiction updates.

Today, by Lisa Wolf

From Newsletter #10

The planet below came into view as the Asp emerged from the docking bay. She took a moment to study it; enjoying its beauty from this altitude, though she knew it was now barren and uninhabitable at the surface.

She brought herself back to reality and urged the Asp out of the way of other traffic. Perhaps one day she'd return to the planet she once called home. Perhaps one day it would be habitable again.

Today, however, was not that day. Today a new life began. Today she had her own ship and cargo.

Today she owned the Universe.

Childish Dreams by Allen Stroud

From Newsletter #8

It’s beautiful, up there, in the stars.

When I was a child, I used to watch the spaceships. Mother bought me a book, and I learned about Cobras, Vipers, Asps and Pythons, named from old Earth animals, they say.

I asked Father if we could ride on a spaceship, he said no. They scan your eyes, to make sure you’re the owner. “Retina scanning," he said.

I went to the spaceport and asked if I could fly. The pilot man laughed and told me to get lost.

I took his eyes and his ship. Now I fly anytime I want.

Empty by Ramon Marett

From Newsletter #6

Space. It used to be so small, jumping from one system to another in the blink of an eye, just popping over to the Star and back for fuel, or talking to friends billions of miles away. Space was so small, but now…

I sit staring out at an endless expanse of black. I’ve been staring for years, no planets, no ships, no contact with anyone. Just floating in this broken down piece of junk they call an escape pod.

Space used to be small. Who am I kidding, Space was never small, it is massive and it is lonely.

An Explorer’s Life by Michael Brookes

From Fiction Diary #3

Some find it too lonely in the unexplored regions. This far out, you rarely meet other ships. Certainly not ones you’d want to meet.

It’s not for everyone, but me? I love it.

The solitude, the thrill of finding the trace that leads me to a new dark system. I’m out here forging a trail that others can follow.

My ship might not have the range of the other explorers, but it’s tough, and I have a trader friend that helps me resupply.

But it pays to be careful. There’re darker things than pirates hidden out here amongst the stars.

Death to Slavers by Darren Grey

From Newsletter #6

Mama used to take me to market. People there were nice! But some gave mean looks. “Death to Slavers,” they whispered.

Once a scary man came with us. “Don’t worry,” said Mama. “We paid good money for him. Daddy’s a Patron now; we need protection.”

But when the bangs started he just fell down, and people pulled Mama away. “Death to Slavers!” they shouted.

They say Mama’s gone now. I hope she comes back. I try being good, but if I don’t work hard they hit me.

“Death to Slavers,” they still say. I don’t even know who Slavers is.

To Market by Dave Hughes

From Newsletter #5

"The manifest says they're food." The creatures just sat there looking at Carlo, their dirty, leathery hides covered in dirt and grime from the cargo bay floor. "They escaped from the cage," Reet said.

Carlo glanced at the soil-covered cage, then back to the escapees with an expression of revulsion, "They're hideous."

"They're really popular in the Core," Reet explained, "We make good profit on 'em."

"But they're filthy. They're covered in their own waste, for Randomia's sake. People eat them?"

"Apparently," Reet shrugged.

"Crazy," Carlos said, shaking his head. "What are they called?"

Reet glanced at her manifest, "Pigs."

You can visit Dave at his site: http://daftworks.co.uk/

Homecoming by Michael Brookes
The observation deck was the best place to watch the ships at Lave station. It was always busy with ships from all over the galaxy. Dirk spent every hour he could sat on the bench, his feet not quite reaching the floor.
He watched the ships come and go, marking each on his personal slate. The security guards joked that the boy’s records were more accurate than the station computer’s. But it was one ship in particular he waited for. Seeing the battered old trader he’d leap from the seat and rush to the arrival bays.
His daddy was home.
The first time, by Matthew "Commander Chonty" Benson
She’s there in front of me. More beautiful than I had imagined. The sunlight casting shadows, creating reflections that make me squint, but I won’t take my eyes off her. She waits, watching, wondering when I’ll make my move.

Others have been there before, but not me. Not yet. But my time will come. Soon. Very soon.

I start to edge forwards, unsure how she’ll react given my reputation.

She’s Lave station. And she’s all I ever dreamed of. All I want to do is to dock first time, safely, without scraping my Cobra MkIII across her docking bay doors.

The Long Game
This drabble was posted in newsletter 3: http://eepurl.com/wBa5D
I enjoy waiting. I like being alone out here in the cold of space. The ship is powered down; I don’t want any heat or EM traces revealing my position.
The information I needed to find this ambush point cost me more than I’ll receive from the bounty, but that doesn’t matter. All that matters is the kill.
It’s dark in the cockpit, the soft hum the only sound. The blossom of exotic particles reveals the hyperspace entry of an incoming ship.
The computer confirms the target and the ship comes to life. I lock target and fire.

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