Drabble Challenge #1 - Night in Space
Jun. 10th, 2011 03:41 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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who_contestTitle: Night in Space
Characters: Jack Harkness
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Set after Torchwood CoE but no explicit spoilers
Words: 205
Summary: There are stars and vacuums and so little in between.
There is no night in space.
There is light and there is dark; there are stars and vacuums and so little in between. Day and night are foreign concepts in the places he inhabits, where all that exists are hefty drink tabs and the view of a greasy counter through the bottom of your glass.
He's angered someone, hears them yelling from two yards and two miles away. He can’t remember what he’s done. Guns are drawn. He forgets where he’s left his.
He had a nice gun, a pulse shot MM9 from the thirty-third century. Well tuned, finely crafted. He thinks he traded it for Tequila X on Kragmar. Before that he had a Webley Mark IV, an Earth antique. Genuine. He lost it a long time ago. And before that, a Beretta 92FS. Can’t remember what happened to that.
He’s unarmed, anyway. Three guns at his front, another two behind. He spreads his arms wide, thinks of another death. Another time, another place, another him. It’s all the same death, but that was the first. Yeah, he thinks, the words echoing back from so long ago. Kinda figured that.
Shots ring out, and everything is dark.
This is the night in space.
Characters: Jack Harkness
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Set after Torchwood CoE but no explicit spoilers
Words: 205
Summary: There are stars and vacuums and so little in between.
There is no night in space.
There is light and there is dark; there are stars and vacuums and so little in between. Day and night are foreign concepts in the places he inhabits, where all that exists are hefty drink tabs and the view of a greasy counter through the bottom of your glass.
He's angered someone, hears them yelling from two yards and two miles away. He can’t remember what he’s done. Guns are drawn. He forgets where he’s left his.
He had a nice gun, a pulse shot MM9 from the thirty-third century. Well tuned, finely crafted. He thinks he traded it for Tequila X on Kragmar. Before that he had a Webley Mark IV, an Earth antique. Genuine. He lost it a long time ago. And before that, a Beretta 92FS. Can’t remember what happened to that.
He’s unarmed, anyway. Three guns at his front, another two behind. He spreads his arms wide, thinks of another death. Another time, another place, another him. It’s all the same death, but that was the first. Yeah, he thinks, the words echoing back from so long ago. Kinda figured that.
Shots ring out, and everything is dark.
This is the night in space.
