Drive by Posting with fic snippet
Nov. 11th, 2008 01:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aurora_novarumPeople guessed all but one of my movie quotes! Yay!
This is the one never figured out:
You'd think the rain would've cooled things down. All it did was make the heat wet.
I can give another quote or maybe people are just tired of playing with the meme. It's an older flick.
And...I need to get motivated on writing my ship fic. (No, not that kind of ship.) So I'm going to do something rare and post a wip. This is the first scene (still in draft form) as a motivator to myself to get this stupid thing done...and as a distraction for myself and others at the batshittery flying around fandom. Read or ignore at your pleasure
Captain Brandon Adams had heard the rumors about the "cursed ship" that couldn't keep a commander before he stepped aboard Odyssey, but he hadn't expected to hear talk of it during the official orientation.
He sat with several new transfers to the battle cruiser, listening to Major Marks go through standard explanations of procedures and scheduling. At first Brandon'd been keeping rapt attention, savoring every word, too excited at being aboard an honest to goodness "spaceship". But the novelty waned as the lecture became the standard military drone of regulations he'd heard at every base he'd served.
Perhaps Major Marks had noticed the drifting attention of his audience, or perhaps he too was bored with the standard lecture, because to their surprise Marks brought up the subject that had been the scuttlebutt ever since they'd been cleared to learn that the USAF had an honest to God space program that put NASA to shame. Brandon shifted to attention in his seat, and he'd noticed his buddy Tommy Gallagher had done the same.
"And I'm sure some of you have heard the rumors that you're aboard the black ship of the 304 fleet. She's been around longer than the shiny Apollo. Her missions have been more diverse than the shuttle runs to Pegasus galaxy Daedalus enjoys. They just face off with space vampires." He tapped the bulkhead beside him with affection and smiled. "Odyssey's fought snakeheads, pirates, and the Ori and travelled to three different galaxies...and counting, of course. So she's got a few more scrapes on her hull, but she's gotten her crew home every time. That's not a curse, that's a blessing, and that's what counts."
The audience chuckled at the good-natured dissing of the sister ships, but Brandon felt a hint of unease. The casual comments Marks conveyed was the dark humor of a combat veteran. It was finally hitting him that this job was real. They were on the front line--meeting aliens from outer space, and not all had their best interests at heart.
Marks continued, "Which brings me the next reason Odyssey's a bit special. This ship has the Asgard core room. Everyone's aware of it, but it is a heavily restricted area. Very few of you will have direct access to it, but the core is integrated to every system on this ship, so you all have to be aware of its correlation to standard operations on board."
And so the major started off on a new round of technical jargon and military bureaucracy. It was almost as if that flash of adventure had never happened, and the audience began to slouch again. After the talk was finished, the room buzzed once again with excited murmurings. Brandon exchanged a smile with Tommy.
"We made it, bro!" Tommy held up his hand for a high-five. Brandon and Tommy had known each other since ROTC. Tommy and he hadn't been stationed together since their stints at Eglin partially overlapped, but when they ended up at the stark conference room in Nellis ready to be processed for this tour of duty, they reconnected immediately and shared their mutual excitement at this strange new universe they'd discovered. They hadn't gotten much of a chance to talk since arriving on board, but now that the lecture was over, Brandon hoped to catch up.
On their way out of the room, they got caught in the bottleneck of people leaving. Directly in front of them, a redheaded man was laughing at his colleague. "Curses, now ghost stories? C'mon."
His friend retorted. "I swear, Dutch, the ship's totally haunted. I've heard that there's a spot on the deck of the bridge that no amount of scrubbing can ever wash off."
"You've been watching too many horror flicks, Cho."
"No, I swear," the lieutenant repeated, "their first commander got killed on the bridge, execution style. They say his blood still runs through the ship, and you can hear his cries of vengeance. No other commander's stayed aboard for more than six months. Plus on deck five..."
Brandon was jostled from behind. He opened his mouth to protest, but his voice caught in his throat as he realized it was Major Marks. The major reached out and pulled the hapless Lieutenant Cho back from the crowd. The major had never struck Brandon as a particularly intimidating man. But at this moment, the fire of a drill sergeant seemed to be possessing the man as he loomed over the one inch shorter subordinate.
"The murdered commander you so brazenly toss off as a ghost was Colonel Emerson, a man who gave his life for this ship and her crew, and one of the best officers I've ever had the honor of serving under, Lieutenant."
"I meant no offense, sir." The lieutenant was obviously flustered, looking to the audience for some kind of support to help dig him out of this hole. Everyone had backed away, giving wide berth to the pair, yet unable to turn away.
"Offense, taken. Every man and woman aboard this ship does their duty. We depend on each other, because the stakes are too high if we don't. Perhaps you don't appreciate that, Lieutenant. Relegating the colonel's sacrifice to a ghost story demeans his memory and cheapens the lives of every crew member who owes their lives to his command. And every officer who we've been honored to follow has stood his example. This is a high stress position, and officers need not explain the extent of their tours aboard to you." Marks looked around at their audience as if spotting them for the first time, but Brandon had no doubt he not only was aware of, but wanted his lecture heard. "I believe I dismissed you all?"
A chorus of muttered "sirs" were heard as everyone scattered. Only after they were a deck away and Tommy triple checked no one else was nearby did he speak up. "That Marks is one to talk. There's stories about him too, you know."
Brandon looked around as well before responding. Tommy was confirming his own impressions of the nerdy-looking officer–there was more to him then met the eye. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that he's considered the luckiest dude in the fleet. Been on at least one mission with every 304 in the fleet. Plus, he was one of Prometheus's crew, you know, that 303?"
Brandon vaguely remembered the history of the predecessor class vessel. "I, um, it got blown up by an Ori satellite, right?"
"Yeah, but not before most of the crew was evacuated by its commander. Marks was bridge crew there, got injured, but survived. You heard him mention Colonel Emerson? Hostage situation with those pirates–the Luchan Allies or something like that. After the colonel's death, Marks led the crew with SG-1 to take back the ship. He fought in the battle of 229 and survived. There were lots of casualties there. Plus, he went from captain to major in record time. Actually, there was a segment of crew from that time that got accelerated promotions. Rumors are they went through some kind of time warp, but everything's hush hush."
Brandon looked at his friend with incredulity. "And people are saying he's lucky from that? Sounds like more of a curse to me. Forced to abandon ship twice? Losing Prometheus, and several commanders?"
Tommy shrugged. "This duty's pretty weird. I mean, I'm berthed with a guy who used to be stationed at Cheyenne, and a couple guys on their second tour. When they heard we were getting briefed by Marks, they called him the Odyssey's Daniel Jackson."
"Who's Daniel Jackson?"
Tommy looked at him and shook his head. "Oh, bro. You've got a lot to learn."
Before Brandon could counter his friend's jibe, he was distracted by the sight before him. The corner they turned revealed a row of exterior windows. They could see the blue oceans of Earth and the peninsula of India peeking out amongst the swirl of clouds. Brandon didn't realize he was holding his breath until he heard Tommy's sigh next to him.
Brandon turned to his old friend and smiled. "We've got the coolest jobs, don't we?"
This is the one never figured out:
You'd think the rain would've cooled things down. All it did was make the heat wet.
I can give another quote or maybe people are just tired of playing with the meme. It's an older flick.
And...I need to get motivated on writing my ship fic. (No, not that kind of ship.) So I'm going to do something rare and post a wip. This is the first scene (still in draft form) as a motivator to myself to get this stupid thing done...and as a distraction for myself and others at the batshittery flying around fandom. Read or ignore at your pleasure
Captain Brandon Adams had heard the rumors about the "cursed ship" that couldn't keep a commander before he stepped aboard Odyssey, but he hadn't expected to hear talk of it during the official orientation.
He sat with several new transfers to the battle cruiser, listening to Major Marks go through standard explanations of procedures and scheduling. At first Brandon'd been keeping rapt attention, savoring every word, too excited at being aboard an honest to goodness "spaceship". But the novelty waned as the lecture became the standard military drone of regulations he'd heard at every base he'd served.
Perhaps Major Marks had noticed the drifting attention of his audience, or perhaps he too was bored with the standard lecture, because to their surprise Marks brought up the subject that had been the scuttlebutt ever since they'd been cleared to learn that the USAF had an honest to God space program that put NASA to shame. Brandon shifted to attention in his seat, and he'd noticed his buddy Tommy Gallagher had done the same.
"And I'm sure some of you have heard the rumors that you're aboard the black ship of the 304 fleet. She's been around longer than the shiny Apollo. Her missions have been more diverse than the shuttle runs to Pegasus galaxy Daedalus enjoys. They just face off with space vampires." He tapped the bulkhead beside him with affection and smiled. "Odyssey's fought snakeheads, pirates, and the Ori and travelled to three different galaxies...and counting, of course. So she's got a few more scrapes on her hull, but she's gotten her crew home every time. That's not a curse, that's a blessing, and that's what counts."
The audience chuckled at the good-natured dissing of the sister ships, but Brandon felt a hint of unease. The casual comments Marks conveyed was the dark humor of a combat veteran. It was finally hitting him that this job was real. They were on the front line--meeting aliens from outer space, and not all had their best interests at heart.
Marks continued, "Which brings me the next reason Odyssey's a bit special. This ship has the Asgard core room. Everyone's aware of it, but it is a heavily restricted area. Very few of you will have direct access to it, but the core is integrated to every system on this ship, so you all have to be aware of its correlation to standard operations on board."
And so the major started off on a new round of technical jargon and military bureaucracy. It was almost as if that flash of adventure had never happened, and the audience began to slouch again. After the talk was finished, the room buzzed once again with excited murmurings. Brandon exchanged a smile with Tommy.
"We made it, bro!" Tommy held up his hand for a high-five. Brandon and Tommy had known each other since ROTC. Tommy and he hadn't been stationed together since their stints at Eglin partially overlapped, but when they ended up at the stark conference room in Nellis ready to be processed for this tour of duty, they reconnected immediately and shared their mutual excitement at this strange new universe they'd discovered. They hadn't gotten much of a chance to talk since arriving on board, but now that the lecture was over, Brandon hoped to catch up.
On their way out of the room, they got caught in the bottleneck of people leaving. Directly in front of them, a redheaded man was laughing at his colleague. "Curses, now ghost stories? C'mon."
His friend retorted. "I swear, Dutch, the ship's totally haunted. I've heard that there's a spot on the deck of the bridge that no amount of scrubbing can ever wash off."
"You've been watching too many horror flicks, Cho."
"No, I swear," the lieutenant repeated, "their first commander got killed on the bridge, execution style. They say his blood still runs through the ship, and you can hear his cries of vengeance. No other commander's stayed aboard for more than six months. Plus on deck five..."
Brandon was jostled from behind. He opened his mouth to protest, but his voice caught in his throat as he realized it was Major Marks. The major reached out and pulled the hapless Lieutenant Cho back from the crowd. The major had never struck Brandon as a particularly intimidating man. But at this moment, the fire of a drill sergeant seemed to be possessing the man as he loomed over the one inch shorter subordinate.
"The murdered commander you so brazenly toss off as a ghost was Colonel Emerson, a man who gave his life for this ship and her crew, and one of the best officers I've ever had the honor of serving under, Lieutenant."
"I meant no offense, sir." The lieutenant was obviously flustered, looking to the audience for some kind of support to help dig him out of this hole. Everyone had backed away, giving wide berth to the pair, yet unable to turn away.
"Offense, taken. Every man and woman aboard this ship does their duty. We depend on each other, because the stakes are too high if we don't. Perhaps you don't appreciate that, Lieutenant. Relegating the colonel's sacrifice to a ghost story demeans his memory and cheapens the lives of every crew member who owes their lives to his command. And every officer who we've been honored to follow has stood his example. This is a high stress position, and officers need not explain the extent of their tours aboard to you." Marks looked around at their audience as if spotting them for the first time, but Brandon had no doubt he not only was aware of, but wanted his lecture heard. "I believe I dismissed you all?"
A chorus of muttered "sirs" were heard as everyone scattered. Only after they were a deck away and Tommy triple checked no one else was nearby did he speak up. "That Marks is one to talk. There's stories about him too, you know."
Brandon looked around as well before responding. Tommy was confirming his own impressions of the nerdy-looking officer–there was more to him then met the eye. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that he's considered the luckiest dude in the fleet. Been on at least one mission with every 304 in the fleet. Plus, he was one of Prometheus's crew, you know, that 303?"
Brandon vaguely remembered the history of the predecessor class vessel. "I, um, it got blown up by an Ori satellite, right?"
"Yeah, but not before most of the crew was evacuated by its commander. Marks was bridge crew there, got injured, but survived. You heard him mention Colonel Emerson? Hostage situation with those pirates–the Luchan Allies or something like that. After the colonel's death, Marks led the crew with SG-1 to take back the ship. He fought in the battle of 229 and survived. There were lots of casualties there. Plus, he went from captain to major in record time. Actually, there was a segment of crew from that time that got accelerated promotions. Rumors are they went through some kind of time warp, but everything's hush hush."
Brandon looked at his friend with incredulity. "And people are saying he's lucky from that? Sounds like more of a curse to me. Forced to abandon ship twice? Losing Prometheus, and several commanders?"
Tommy shrugged. "This duty's pretty weird. I mean, I'm berthed with a guy who used to be stationed at Cheyenne, and a couple guys on their second tour. When they heard we were getting briefed by Marks, they called him the Odyssey's Daniel Jackson."
"Who's Daniel Jackson?"
Tommy looked at him and shook his head. "Oh, bro. You've got a lot to learn."
Before Brandon could counter his friend's jibe, he was distracted by the sight before him. The corner they turned revealed a row of exterior windows. They could see the blue oceans of Earth and the peninsula of India peeking out amongst the swirl of clouds. Brandon didn't realize he was holding his breath until he heard Tommy's sigh next to him.
Brandon turned to his old friend and smiled. "We've got the coolest jobs, don't we?"
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Date: 2008-11-13 04:12 am (UTC)My muse is very weird.