Post by Deleted on Aug 21, 2007 2:25:21 GMT -4
Alright not gonna promise Pulitzer material, or even stuff worth of the best romance novel or any other such genre. This is not going inflame a lot passions or anything. And this comes no where near the literature contemplated at Ben's Book Club. Right now I'm fascinated by the looming battle. And this is more or less just a speculative vignette, a mood-setter, about that. I've been fascinated by what's going on that ship off shore, so I made some presumptions, which may be totally off base. And as for the names and such, well, I just chose names as best I could.
So w/o further ado, here is my first attempt at fan fiction, FWIW:
Their ship has come in
It was dark in his quarters when Chris Thomas woke up, the curtains drawn to keep out the brazen dawn. He had not slept well. The worries of today crowded into last night and gave him dreams that left his mind disheveled and confused. He checked his watch. 8:15 a.m. He'd overslept. He jumped out of his bunk.
"Why had no one woken him up?" he wondered, irritated. Yes, everyone was drilled and ready to the point they could do it in their sleep. In fact judging from the groans and gasps of the crew's sleep the past few weeks, no doubt they were doing just that. He glanced back at his unmade bed and a tinge of regret passed through his bones. One of the nice things about being an officer were the roomier quarters, more comfortably appointed. And all to himself.
Which was why he was late. In crews quarters there was never any chance to sleep late. Too much commotion. And while that meant you didn't sleep well; you also didn't sleep late.
Hurriedly, he pulled on a T-shirt and the uniform they all wore. He hated the fact he couldn't start the day fresh but that would be the least of the worries of the day.
"Damn it!" he cursed under his breath. Couldn't have someone just rapped on the door as they went past?" he thought. "Maybe they had. Maybe that's why I woke up."
"Damn it," he curse a bit louder, glancing furtively. They said there wasn't any recording equipment in the personal quarters, but Thomas thought it wise to act as if there were. DHARMA was everywhere, watching them all "for your edification and personal growth" as Dr. Halliwax warbled on the orientation tape. "Yeah, I got your edification right here," he said, barely audible then sighed. In a week's time there might not be anything left of him to edify or grow.
He grabbed his MP3 player as he headed out the door. The modified i Ching symbol that the DHARMA Initiative had stamped on every blessed item was cleverly overlaid on the click wheel. He wondered how DI convinced the computer company to do that and to make sure no player made it 'into the world', but then he realized that if they could find the means to locate a mysterious island in the Pacific and keep tabs on a couple million people with unerring accuracy in addition to the thousand other things they were doing, convincing some Silicon Valley execs to fill such an order would be no problem. Hell, there probably were DI agents within the company, protecting the franchise.
As he walked out onto the deck, he noted the sun was shining but still the light had the feel of a cloudy day. When he glanced leeward, he realized why. It always shocked him a bit. It took a few minutes for the surprise to pass, but he never got used to the horizon line suddenly vanishing. Sea morphed into a light, undulating bluish-grey which eventually thinned until you saw the blue sky above.
"The island was up to her old tricks," he thought. And he didn't know whether that bode ill or well for their plan.
"Well, well. Top of the morning, sleeping beauty," Philip Jones said when Thomas caught sight of him up on the observation deck.
Thomas sneered. "Morning. Sorry, I, ah, overslept." Then went to join him.
"No worries. We're good for time," Jones said. He nodded toward the large blue-gray undulation. "The island has decided she needs to put on her makeup before receiving guests."
"Beauty rushes for no one," Thomas added, joining Jones on the deck. He noticing a slightly stale musk; he sniffed.
Jones eyed him out of the corner of his eyes gamely. "Just got up myself. Overslept too."
Turning back to the missing horizon, he said, "Sometimes, I think she puts a spell on people. Everybody on deck seems to be dazed, moving slowly. I've had to tell 'em three times already to take the lead out."
Nodding toward the massive undulation, Thomas said, "She might not want company."
"When has she ever?" Jones replied. "I'd be happy to oblige the lady, but I got a dispatch from SEA HQ, that the situation might be deteriorating."
"Oh, great." Thomas mumbled, a bitter taste rising in his mouth.
"Naomi's communications have raised concerns from central command." He handed Thomas a scrap of paper. "Read it."
Thomas read it. The cencom dispatch was short and to the point. "Approach now. Caution: Use extreme care. Deadly force as needed."
"Apparently the correspondent at HQ was a bit concerned. He's afraid Naomi might be compromised. It seems it's no longer possible to execute a nice "rescue" operation as we had hoped. The crash survivors have turned out to be rather game customers. Not that they haven't had cause. The Hostiles have been up to their tricks and playing with them, and the survivors have responded by taking out quite a few of their number. Now the bigger guns are loading their cannons."
"Jeezuz Christ," Thomas said, letting out a long loud sigh. "Naomi," he thought. "I hope she's OK." She could be a hard customers but he also found out she had plenty of soft spots too.
"Whadda you moonin' about?" Jones said, an off-color sneer at the edges of his lips. "Forget about her. Right now we got to get ready for a full scale attack. This is not going to be a campaign with a lot of finesse or pretty moments. To complicate things, there's a possibility a third group is forming and it might have the bigger guns behind it.
Brows knitted and a knot growing in his stomach, Thomas turned to Jones. "Why don't we just let them all duke it out, and when the dust is settled, the bodies are buried, we go in, huh?" he half-pleaded.
"Because they got something of ours. You know that. And as it sounds like they are at the point of using it against us."
Both men continued to watch the undulating blue-grey in the distance. Then Jensen continued, "And we watched it happen right under our nose."
"How?" Thomas asked brusquely.
"The oldest trick in the book," Jones replied. "Our fearless leaders got confident and complacent and didn't pay attention to the quiet little boy who didn't seem to fit in."
"Ben!" Thomas hissed. "I should have drowned that little runt …"
"No one ever suspected Ben would ever be anything," Jensen said trying to calm Thomas. "When the Hostiles got him, folks said it was regrettable but what would they want with a janitor? Apparently Ben kept his special abilities to himself. And the Hostiles saw their opportunity."
"That weaselly little bast—"
"Now has had the admiration and following of a very formidable foe of the DHARMA Initiative." Jones said. "However, good news: HQ says he's losing it —
"Good," Thomas snapped.
"And his special powers are fading, and that there might be a power play going on, but all that is just complicating matters for us," Jones said, leaning on the deck rails, the knuckles of his hands white as he squeezed the rail." And it's no guarantee that we are going to land on our feet when it's over."
"If we land at all," Thomas added. Jensen nodded, and both men continued their vigilant watch on the distance.
"Anyway," Jensen continued after a few seconds. "Orders is orders."
"That they are," Thomas replied, thinking to himself: "And why are we always getting orders that only create a mess instead of achieving the great advancement in living the DHARMAlites are always mooning about."
"They say that those who die in service to the cause get their names on a platinum plaque in the great hall," Thomas added, hands in his pockets and glancing sideways to Jones, then looking into the haze for anything that might enhance his chances of survival.
"That's what they say," Jones said, never taking his eyes off the undulating distance. "Too bad you can't see the thing for yourself."
"Ha ha!" Thomas chortled and after a short pause, added, "but if the DHARMA Initiative is right, you should be able to."
Jones slapped the rail and gave out a "HA!" that brought glances from the crew.
Hearing the tone sounding the hour, the men turned and headed for the crews getting the boats and choppers ready.
So w/o further ado, here is my first attempt at fan fiction, FWIW:
Their ship has come in
It was dark in his quarters when Chris Thomas woke up, the curtains drawn to keep out the brazen dawn. He had not slept well. The worries of today crowded into last night and gave him dreams that left his mind disheveled and confused. He checked his watch. 8:15 a.m. He'd overslept. He jumped out of his bunk.
"Why had no one woken him up?" he wondered, irritated. Yes, everyone was drilled and ready to the point they could do it in their sleep. In fact judging from the groans and gasps of the crew's sleep the past few weeks, no doubt they were doing just that. He glanced back at his unmade bed and a tinge of regret passed through his bones. One of the nice things about being an officer were the roomier quarters, more comfortably appointed. And all to himself.
Which was why he was late. In crews quarters there was never any chance to sleep late. Too much commotion. And while that meant you didn't sleep well; you also didn't sleep late.
Hurriedly, he pulled on a T-shirt and the uniform they all wore. He hated the fact he couldn't start the day fresh but that would be the least of the worries of the day.
"Damn it!" he cursed under his breath. Couldn't have someone just rapped on the door as they went past?" he thought. "Maybe they had. Maybe that's why I woke up."
"Damn it," he curse a bit louder, glancing furtively. They said there wasn't any recording equipment in the personal quarters, but Thomas thought it wise to act as if there were. DHARMA was everywhere, watching them all "for your edification and personal growth" as Dr. Halliwax warbled on the orientation tape. "Yeah, I got your edification right here," he said, barely audible then sighed. In a week's time there might not be anything left of him to edify or grow.
He grabbed his MP3 player as he headed out the door. The modified i Ching symbol that the DHARMA Initiative had stamped on every blessed item was cleverly overlaid on the click wheel. He wondered how DI convinced the computer company to do that and to make sure no player made it 'into the world', but then he realized that if they could find the means to locate a mysterious island in the Pacific and keep tabs on a couple million people with unerring accuracy in addition to the thousand other things they were doing, convincing some Silicon Valley execs to fill such an order would be no problem. Hell, there probably were DI agents within the company, protecting the franchise.
As he walked out onto the deck, he noted the sun was shining but still the light had the feel of a cloudy day. When he glanced leeward, he realized why. It always shocked him a bit. It took a few minutes for the surprise to pass, but he never got used to the horizon line suddenly vanishing. Sea morphed into a light, undulating bluish-grey which eventually thinned until you saw the blue sky above.
"The island was up to her old tricks," he thought. And he didn't know whether that bode ill or well for their plan.
"Well, well. Top of the morning, sleeping beauty," Philip Jones said when Thomas caught sight of him up on the observation deck.
Thomas sneered. "Morning. Sorry, I, ah, overslept." Then went to join him.
"No worries. We're good for time," Jones said. He nodded toward the large blue-gray undulation. "The island has decided she needs to put on her makeup before receiving guests."
"Beauty rushes for no one," Thomas added, joining Jones on the deck. He noticing a slightly stale musk; he sniffed.
Jones eyed him out of the corner of his eyes gamely. "Just got up myself. Overslept too."
Turning back to the missing horizon, he said, "Sometimes, I think she puts a spell on people. Everybody on deck seems to be dazed, moving slowly. I've had to tell 'em three times already to take the lead out."
Nodding toward the massive undulation, Thomas said, "She might not want company."
"When has she ever?" Jones replied. "I'd be happy to oblige the lady, but I got a dispatch from SEA HQ, that the situation might be deteriorating."
"Oh, great." Thomas mumbled, a bitter taste rising in his mouth.
"Naomi's communications have raised concerns from central command." He handed Thomas a scrap of paper. "Read it."
Thomas read it. The cencom dispatch was short and to the point. "Approach now. Caution: Use extreme care. Deadly force as needed."
"Apparently the correspondent at HQ was a bit concerned. He's afraid Naomi might be compromised. It seems it's no longer possible to execute a nice "rescue" operation as we had hoped. The crash survivors have turned out to be rather game customers. Not that they haven't had cause. The Hostiles have been up to their tricks and playing with them, and the survivors have responded by taking out quite a few of their number. Now the bigger guns are loading their cannons."
"Jeezuz Christ," Thomas said, letting out a long loud sigh. "Naomi," he thought. "I hope she's OK." She could be a hard customers but he also found out she had plenty of soft spots too.
"Whadda you moonin' about?" Jones said, an off-color sneer at the edges of his lips. "Forget about her. Right now we got to get ready for a full scale attack. This is not going to be a campaign with a lot of finesse or pretty moments. To complicate things, there's a possibility a third group is forming and it might have the bigger guns behind it.
Brows knitted and a knot growing in his stomach, Thomas turned to Jones. "Why don't we just let them all duke it out, and when the dust is settled, the bodies are buried, we go in, huh?" he half-pleaded.
"Because they got something of ours. You know that. And as it sounds like they are at the point of using it against us."
Both men continued to watch the undulating blue-grey in the distance. Then Jensen continued, "And we watched it happen right under our nose."
"How?" Thomas asked brusquely.
"The oldest trick in the book," Jones replied. "Our fearless leaders got confident and complacent and didn't pay attention to the quiet little boy who didn't seem to fit in."
"Ben!" Thomas hissed. "I should have drowned that little runt …"
"No one ever suspected Ben would ever be anything," Jensen said trying to calm Thomas. "When the Hostiles got him, folks said it was regrettable but what would they want with a janitor? Apparently Ben kept his special abilities to himself. And the Hostiles saw their opportunity."
"That weaselly little bast—"
"Now has had the admiration and following of a very formidable foe of the DHARMA Initiative." Jones said. "However, good news: HQ says he's losing it —
"Good," Thomas snapped.
"And his special powers are fading, and that there might be a power play going on, but all that is just complicating matters for us," Jones said, leaning on the deck rails, the knuckles of his hands white as he squeezed the rail." And it's no guarantee that we are going to land on our feet when it's over."
"If we land at all," Thomas added. Jensen nodded, and both men continued their vigilant watch on the distance.
"Anyway," Jensen continued after a few seconds. "Orders is orders."
"That they are," Thomas replied, thinking to himself: "And why are we always getting orders that only create a mess instead of achieving the great advancement in living the DHARMAlites are always mooning about."
"They say that those who die in service to the cause get their names on a platinum plaque in the great hall," Thomas added, hands in his pockets and glancing sideways to Jones, then looking into the haze for anything that might enhance his chances of survival.
"That's what they say," Jones said, never taking his eyes off the undulating distance. "Too bad you can't see the thing for yourself."
"Ha ha!" Thomas chortled and after a short pause, added, "but if the DHARMA Initiative is right, you should be able to."
Jones slapped the rail and gave out a "HA!" that brought glances from the crew.
Hearing the tone sounding the hour, the men turned and headed for the crews getting the boats and choppers ready.
