Evening lovely readers 🙂
Today I want to present to you the first of my Notebook Series of posts. This concept is to portray writing in progress and how the mind of a writer can work. If I’m honest it’s also so I don’t forget the story ideas; hey I’m human, I can admit my faults 😉 Please just keep in mind that the writing might start out rough around the edges but it will improve with time.
My first venture for this series is a sci-fi themed piece centering around Commander Samara Balen and the duties she’s called for in service to The Service. What will happen should the Universe come crashing down around you? 🙂
Please enjoy. Thank you 🙂
Hallam
Sam sighed as her eyes popped open, unfocused as the comm sphere bleeped to life. She had only just finished the graveyard shift in engineering but she knew they needed her for something else. They always did. She could’ve sworn her title was Commander, not General Dog’s Body.
Grudgingly, she swung her legs over the edge of her sleeping platform, her bare feet making contact with the cold harsh metal. Others may shy away from it but Sam welcomed the cruel reality of the bitter cold; it reminded her of the reality of a Universe at War.
Shuffling as she went, she managed to reach the comm sphere after only five beeps. Not bad since she was exhausted. Rubbing her eyes, she pressed the glaringly bright speaker button and said, “Commander Balen here. This better be damn good, Meat.”
*Author’s Note* I had to pause here. Is the name a name, nickname or derogatory term for the person on the other end of the comm sphere? Do I want to turn my character into a hard aggressive woman? Or is she just grumpy when she’s tired? Suffice it to say, for now at least, she’s only grumpy 🙂
“Get your head out of your arse Commander and get to the bridge. The Captain has called a meeting.”
“Ah Meat, I love it when you’re rough with me,” she replied sarcastically. “Where’s the respect earned by my position?”
“You want respect? Join the suits in The Guard.” And with that he pressed disconnect. Sam sighed. She knew being part of…
*Author’s Note* Okay, what do you call the opposing faction of military without it sounding too corny? My brain jumps to The Alliance but that could hark to World of Warcraft (yes I am a gamer) or The Rebels, but that is definitely very Star Wars 🙂
…The Service wouldn’t get her high into the upper echelons of life but still she worked hard at her job. She climbed the ranks faster than anyone had at the tender age of twenty-eight. If the Captain would just up and pissing retire she’d be a force to be reckoned with. He wouldn’t retire though, misogynistic bastard. Damn him for only being thirty-five.
She grudgingly got dressed, ignoring the tempting pull of her mattress. How easy it would be to just curl up and ignore the Universe but she had a job to do, one all the more difficult for the very fact that she was a woman in a male dominated World.
*Author’s Note* The Universe my protagonist finds herself in is a misogynistic one. This doesn’t reflect my personal views as I believe women can do anything just as well as men. It does, however, create tension and I do love me some tension 🙂
She tugged on her knee-high synthetic leather boots, adjusted her waist holster on her black pants, pulled on her black leather jacket over her black tank and tied her waist length purple hair in a band. This was one reason she loved The Service. They weren’t so strict on military wear and weapons. She picked up her dual HZ45’s and placed them almost lovingly in their holster. Next she placed her hypersilver blades in her boots and switch blade in the sleeve of her jacket. Lastly was the hypersilver sword strapped to her back. You can never be too careful when it came to space travel in her own modest opinion. Plus it was far more satisfying gutting someone up close and personal.