Thursday, April 13, 2017

Please Welcome A.G. Moye, Author of Cronicles of the Marauder




In the near future; 100,000 light-years from Earth aboard the faster than light starship Marauder, Captain Neil Armstrong Andrews sat down for dinner to enjoy fresh vegetables from the hydroponics garden with vat grown artificial meat. After their narrow escape from the aliens that wanted to enslave them and near destruction of the Marauder, they were hiding doing repairs to the ship. I now present for your enjoyment, one scene in the story for you to get the flavor of dinner aboard the Marauder.

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"Captain, what would you like for dinner?" asked the female assistant cook.
"What are the crew having today?"
"The main choices are stir fry with rice made with artificial meat with fresh vegetables from hydroponics. Or spaghetti made with artificial meat meatballs, a salad and fresh garlic bread."
"I'll have a little of both."
"What would you like on your salad?"
"Thousand Island dressing."
"To drink with your meal?"
"Iced tea." she walked away to fetch Neil’s tea.
Glancing at the wall to his right, Neil still enjoyed the seascape painted there, giving the illusion you were dining on the beach.
Glancing to his left, Neil saw the long line formed by the crew to serve themselves, cafeteria style. They were quick about it. Being in space, everything was attached or secured in case of the loss of gravity.
Neil felt he was accustomed to the sudden appearance of a head resembling a praying mantis in front of him.
"Evening Captain." she said in her sing-song voice.
"Evening Poopa." She gave her smile-like feature and retracted her head. She could stretch her neck over twenty feet at will. When he first saw her, he thought her body was a giant walking stick from Earth with a praying mantis head. Neil soon learned she was very flexible with her twenty appendages; only ten or twelve were used for walking, the others were deft hands that could do multitasks at once.
"Hey Poopa, you should try this chocolate cake. It is to die for!" Noka shouted in his deep rumbling voice. 
Poopa never left her place in line, instead extended her neck so her head was just above the horse-like creature that yelled to her.
Neil smiled as Noka cut off a piece of cake with his fork and lifted it upwards to her. Her multi-prong tongue lashed out and cleaned it off his fork.
"It is tasty; I'll try some." Poopa sang.
Poopa picked up a tray, no plate, since she normally only ate the greens. Neil watched as she sniffed each food before using a utensil to place some on the tray. As always, they had two or three heads of cabbage, uncooked but sliced in four parts for her. It was her favorite food.
She took no more than a tablespoon of most things but took two whole heads of cabbage. Using the tongs, she picked out her other favorite greens from the salad tray before moving along. At the end, she took a couple of slices of cake before going over and getting a container of water.
All the tables for the crew were built picnic style with benches to sit on. Poopa was unable to sit in them so she went to the one end of the last table by the wall.
Neil noted that all the aliens tended to sit far away from the others as possible at the same table. Poopa was at one end of the back table by the wall. Noka had his pillow seat at the other end. A few humans sat with them, those that accepted the aliens as part of the crew. Most did not.
Neil smiled as his food was placed in front of him. He marveled at how the cooks could take the simplest foods and make them gourmet meals.
"Thank you," Neil said turning his attention away from the crew to his plate. 


Thanks for stopping by to share your food for thought, A.G.!



You can find A.G. here:







Born in the cotton fields of Arkansas, started writing in 1987 when I got my first computer. Wrote long hand before that; my hayloft is filled with old stories. Published in 2011 after being prodded by my wife when she read the first of the Lightning in the Tunnel books. Currently I am writing Iron Hearts and Doomsday Rock while Saddle Spur, my first western, is in editing.

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