Flieger, grüß' mir die Sonne, grüß' mir die Sterne und grüß' mir den Mond. Dein Leben, das ist ein Schweben, durch die Ferne, die keiner bewohnt! - Hans Albers, F.P.1 antwortet nicht (Adaptation in the 80s: Extrabreit)

Monday, 25 August 2014

Abraka Drabble

I think it is time to sort and collect the Abraka Drabbles which I participated in so far in the ED forum. They were all directly taken from my game experience and this blog and transformed a bit, made a bit moody´er.

What is an Abraka Drabble? The description in the forum is a bit confusing at first ("Have fun with creating your mini masterpieces."), but it basically boils down to this: Write a maximum of 100 words on a certain topic, given each week, and set in the Elite-Universe. I think this is a fantastic opportunity to start being a poet. It is fun, highly diverse, full of creative nonsense, and as such can only be highly recommended.

Dangerous Wildlife

After about 20 Minutes boredom, the Eagle spots a Cobra trailing slowly through the nightsky, and nosedives for it. Multicannons spit and spark and the Cobra hisses in pain and meets its demise, however, not after biting painfully back with a pair of railfangs, scraping away some skin from under the Eagle´s feathers. Here, pick a 650 Credit voucher. Not long after, another Cobra manages to slide away in time, but spills its entrails after being slashed by the Eagles claws. Great, sugar and mineral oil; I can probably mix it and sell it as Coffee on the black market!
- 8 August 2014 

Beta Iliad

The railgun, this alpha beast, became a beta waste of slots. Alphastrike, initial burst, they whisper in feeds, is snuck upon by cannons and missiles, those ancient harriers of war. Vipers rot together in numbers, bored and hunger´d by lack of prey, and Anacondas´ a muscular form are seen; more and more. The hissing and moaning of the collective soul swells, it always does, since newness and wonder slowly dull away, under the harsh gaze of mastery and the whip of routine. Innocents slaughtered, hapless space cities beleagured, the just cry out. They hunger; the decline of beta is nigh.
- 14 August 2014

Planetary grandeur

Its majestic sight draws me in. I let my ship drift along in silence, frameshift a bit and jump back to normspace, repeat. An unidentified signal close to the planet´s ring beckons me; a ship lost its cargo of Coltan there, and I scoop it in, so very close to the planet. The planet looms over me, I feel almost drawn towards it, the visuality instills a feeling of its mighty gravitational pull. It dwarfes you. I can see mountains and valleys and I know, one day, I will finally find my way to descend and touch virtual extra terra.
- 22 August 2014

As it turns out, Mr. Freeport-thank-you-very-much gives a damn about my purely selfless effort to clear his station´s perimeter of those loitering hot-shot Viper pilots. Actually, I am told by a heavily armed representative, Mr. Freeport is very unhappy right now, because of several new dents and kinks in his property and I ought to have to do something about it as a compensatory means?
I hastily open up the mission bulletin and offer to accept any mission in Mr. Freeport´s name. Seems Mr. Freeport just sucessfully recruited my Anaconda as part of his special forces to collect some debts. 
- 28 August 2014

Birthday cake

A ship approaches; an Anaconda class system security vessel. It starts scanning and I already know that a hell of a fight is pending, once their screen will start flashing red.
The ship looses some cargo before I obliterate it. Because I can. Yes, feel the dark side, feel my power. But even as monstrous murderer and pirate, I must sustain my life and my murder weapon. So I start scooping. Grain. Biowaste. Radioactive Waste. Consumer Electronics. Cobalt. It is not easy to be a murderer and pirate. A cargo units pops open. What the...? Slaves; women, children. Happy birthday, hero.
- 4 September 2014

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