Sunday, January 9, 2011

Space opera on steroids!

As promised ... something special today! I have a story going here, a synergy that just happened between several sets of images.

Remember this, from a few days ago:

At the time I was kidding around, but you have to admit, there's something catchy about the tag line: "Once a starship pilot ... now the captive of ruthless warlords -- she will be the empress of rich and lawless galaxies."

Okay. Right. So here -- from yesterday -- is the babe who used to be the starship pilot and is now the captive tempting the Fate Worse Than Death (which probably wouldn't even make her sneeze anyway)...
And that's quite the serious hunk of babe. In fact, it's such a serious babe, you have to wonder that if she's the captive of warlords without a whole lot of ruth, why isn't someone rushing to rescue her?

Then I remembered this:

Now, milday's in tears about something, and there's a spaceship right there. Uh huh. So the pilot who will one day be the Empress of the Galaxy (watch your six, Ming!) used to be milday's private pilot, shuttling her hither and thither to all those romantic trysts and political intrigues. Shades of Three Musketeers in space (aka The Three Musketeers and Luke Skywalker).

And then our pilot (and she seriously needs a name) was made off with in one of these political intrigues, in which she saw, or heard something she shouldn't have. Milday just lost her best friend and most trusted confidant. So --

Enter our hero, who used to be the copilot, flying shotgun on these missions ... and he's a cyborg. He's a "fifty," meaning he's still (only?) 50% human. The rest was replaced after a battle or terrible accident which blinded him (see those eyes!) and destroyed his limbs. The rest of him is gorgeous, of course; and the collateral damage didn't get to the dangly bits, thank gods. (And he also seriously needs a name!)

So here's our hero, who's about to wade through rivers of blood to rescue the pilot he flew with for years, on milady's orders. Being a cyborg, and a "fifty," he can't go without orders -- because in his world he's, well, something of a second-class citizen, considered less than human. (This is not my uidea. It's borrowed from a Mel Keegan story which is coming up soon from DreamCraft.) Of course, he and the pilot babe were lovers long before he was cyborged, and if milady doesn't have the hots for him, she needs to have her contact lens prescription checked.

And that's not a bad story. I'd enjoy reading this! Writing it? Mmmmm ... dunno. Don't really have the time. But it's interesting to play with, isn't it?

Jade, 10 January
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