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  1. In Memory of LAJ_FETT: Please share your remembrances and condolences HERE

Story Blade Runner Blues

Discussion in 'Non Star Wars Fan Fiction' started by Terek_Deckard, Sep 29, 2008.

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  1. Terek_Deckard

    Terek_Deckard Jedi Master star 2

    Registered:
    May 18, 2006
    Blade Runner Blues
    Copyright 2008, Ward Jones

    This is a prequel to Sir Ridley Scott's film, Blade Runner. We meet up with our favorite 'Runner in the weeks before the events we already know about . . .

    Disclaimer: I do not own Blade Runner or any of its characters. They are owned by Warner Brothers and the Blade Runner Trust.

    The dark blue Spinner slipped through the man made valley of tall buildings with Gaff's right hand firmly on the controls as he rubbed his aching leg with the other. Deckard, beside him in the passenger seat, stared out his rain-streaked window across Los Angeles. Even now, in the persistent showers and darkness, it was a beautiful view.

    [image=http://propaholics.wolfchasers.com/uploader/users/tyranus4/SPINNER%20WITH%20BUILDING%20AD.jpg]

    He spoke to Gaff without turning his head from the window, "You think it's a fool's dream . . . don't you?"

    Gaff thought silently for a moment, then responded carefully in the blended mishmash city-speak language of the streets, "I think it's good to have dreams, but this one is quite an aspiration. You really want a horse? They've been nearly extinct for years. Even the synthetic ones are outrageously expensive." Both men fell silent. Deckard's old neighbor had come home with one several months ago, and he had been dreaming of owning one ever since. His own synthetic sheep, for which he had worked very hard and waited very patiently, was nice and he knew he should have been happy with it, but he found himself dreaming of owning the horse nonetheless.

    The discouragement on his face was reflected in the window glass, and Gaff spoke again as he began the Spinners descent toward the streets below, "I just don't see how owning a horse is a realistic dream for you. Real ones are extremely rare, and on your salary, as far as a synthetic one is concerned, you might as well be dreaming of owning a Centaur or a Unicorn, my good man. You have about as much chance of obtaining those elusive, mythical beasts as you do your horse. Men have sought after elusive myths such as these for centuries and never found them because they do not exist. If they did, and anyone were lucky enough to find one, or anything as rare, they would run away with it and never come back."

    [image=http://propaholics.wolfchasers.com/uploader/users/tyranus4/DECKARD%20IN%20SPINNER.jpg]

    There was a moment of silence before Gaff continued, looking off out his window, "I've come to think that the odds of finding the right woman is in that mythological category as well." Deckard nodded knowingly and turned to face Gaff as the vehicle touched down on the street.

    Cold eyes stared back as his door raised, folding forward. He pulled the collar of his coat up and said nothing as he stepped out into the rain. The door lowered again, Gaff watching him through the windows as the vehicle rose from the ground and raced away. Deckard glanced back over his shoulder, watching the Spinner disappear into the other traffic as he walked into his apartment building. With any luck, the incessant moisture made Gaff's bum leg stiffen up and hurt worse.


    *


    His feet ached with the mileage of the day as he walked into the still darkness of the cave-like apartment. A barely audible electronic humming rose and fell rhythmically. Twin lights in the ceiling above the bar momentarily switched on as he stepped in close to grab a glass and his favorite bottle. The warm light cascading down over him switched off as he walked away, pouring himself a drink and heading toward a comfortable spot on the worn sofa. He sat slowly, his sore, tired body sinking gradually down into the deep cushions. Ritually, he began unlacing his shoes with one hand as he sipped his whiskey from the heavy, squared glass in the other. The events of the past few weeks raced through his mind as he took another sip from the glass, eyes staring unfocused into nothingness and he placed the half empty bottle on the low table before him.

    The warmth of the liquor burned in his chest in sharp contrast to the chill
     
  2. Terek_Deckard

    Terek_Deckard Jedi Master star 2

    Registered:
    May 18, 2006
    The pleasure model, Pris, sat in the dark next to Mary, Zhora and Andy. They had been designed with a high threshold for pain, heat and cold. That genetic alteration was now serving them well as the interior walls of the small ship were now frosting over with ice crystals. The four Replicants here in the cargo area were quite comfortable and content in the bitter cold.

    Leon had diverted all of the small craft's secondary internal power to the engines to get them this far and it was now, for all intents and purposes, nearly a lifeless ship. It had taken them almost as far as it could. Batty sat silently in the co-pilot's seat peering out at the darkness while Leon surveyed his star charts and checked their heading on the dimly illuminated instruments. "We're just off the coast on a momentum path headed toward a colony relay station. It's not far. I think we can make it"

    Roy adjusted the focus of his eyes off the distant stars light-years away and refocused on the reflection of Leon's face in the glass just in front of his face. "I was beginning to lose faith in you. Shuttles carrying people on their way from Earth pass through those fuel and provision stockpile stations all the time on their way to the colonies. If we can make it that far, I'm sure that between the six of us, we can find a way to convince someone that we need their ship more than they do."

    As Roy finished speaking, a smile spread across his face and a garbled, static-laden voice emerged from the hissing. Leon pulled on the leather headset and adjusted the mic tip up to his mouth as he glanced over at Roy, smiling, "Mayday! Mayday! Our ship has lost power. We need help."

    Through the static finally came a voice, "Copy that distress call. This is Off-World Transports, Flight 2187. You are on a glide path headed for our destination at the relay station just ahead. Please advise. Can you make that location or should we attempt to directly dock with you?"

    Leon glanced over at Roy, who thought for a moment. Then he put his hands together symbolizing a docking motion and looked back at Leon.

    "Off-World Transports, We have almost no power or heat, and are in need of an emergency docking. Four of our six passengers need medical attention due to exposure to the frigid cold in here."

    "Copy that. Coming around. The threshold is now primed and ready for docking procedure. We currently have a crew of three, and twenty passengers onboard that are anxious to get to the colonies, but I think it's safe to say we can squeeze another six in here."

    Leon flipped several switches as he responded, "Docking threshold primed and ready."

    Roy smiled as he pulled his collar up higher, "Looks like we found our ship."


    * * *


    Deckard pulled his collar up higher around his neck. A cold, gusting wind blew in from the direction of the Pacific, flinging and transforming the otherwise innocuous raindrops into a stinging assault on his exposed skin. His drenched hair lay flat, matted against his head, his eyes squinting. He carried several parcels wrapped in brown paper, now stained in a speckled pattern by the tiny water droplets, and made his way along the busy sidewalk until he came to the entrance to his apartment building.

    The rainwater dripped off the lower edges of his coat as he entered the dim lobby. He rapidly brushed his fingers through his hair, shaking off yet more water. Several old residents sat in outdated furniture by the large glass panels staring out at the rain, dreaming of days long past and sunshine. One old woman turned her head to watch him pass by. The elevators were just ahead, and he sneezed violently as he proceeded on to the call buttons, pressing the one adjacent to the upturned arrow.

    A whirring sound emanated from somewhere behind the art deco elevator doors as the car was summoned from a higher level. His bloodshot eyes were burning and he shook with chills from a fever. Generally, he felt like he had been hit and dragged ten city blocks by a bio-waste removal truck. It took every ounce of energy he had just to
     
  3. Terek_Deckard

    Terek_Deckard Jedi Master star 2

    Registered:
    May 18, 2006
    I'm still working on this, but would love to hear what you think so far!

    BUMP :)
     
  4. NYCitygurl

    NYCitygurl Manager Emeritus star 9 VIP - Former Mod/RSA

    Registered:
    Jul 20, 2002
    Nice story! I particularly like the scenes with Roy, Pris and their friends.
     
  5. Terek_Deckard

    Terek_Deckard Jedi Master star 2

    Registered:
    May 18, 2006
    Thanks!

    I hope to be writing more on this one soon, but have been taking care of my father. He was diagnosed with Prostate Cancer and had the surgery to remove it. He's 78, and his recovery is taking a LONG time, so I have been keeping up his house, etc while he heals.

    More will come hopefully!
     
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