Error 420
One Thousand Club
This novel is something I'm working on for National Novel Writer's Month. I'll be updating it regularly, about once or twice a day, and I'm looking for any feedback y'all can give along the way. I hope you enjoy this unnamed piece of work.
At this point specifically I need to fill out more of the crew, and if y'all have any sci-fi or fantasy characters lying about that you'd be willing to put up for adoption, I'd be more than happy to take them in.
A ruggedly handsome and unbelievably attractive man, an absolute unit, replies with nothing more than a stoic "Very well. On my mark." And he says it like that bald guy on Star Trek. Overall, just captain-ly. But not bald. Like a hairy captain. But not too hairy. Just like a normal amount of hair for a space captain.
The SS Athens sits lazily in its cradle of orange and purple, the errant gasses of a dead star, waiting, yearning, for its new great adventure. Its brave, humble captain raised this ship from nothing, an abandoned Lighthouse on the edges of the Expanse made into a spitfire of a ship. It hums to life, jets of plasma and atmosphere spurting out of random holes, a massive spherical engine on its bottom spinning and glowing blue, brighter and brighter, whipping the space cloud around it into a massive vortex. It rattles with anticipation for its great escape. Its captain rattles with a tin of breath mints, trying and failing to get one out as the ship around him vibrates angrily, sloppily stacked tools and computers falling to the ground.
"Captain, might I recommend we depart soon? By my estimation, the hull will split in roughly sixteen seconds." The computer sounds concerned, but not the unflappable captain. He simply raises a hand, pulls it back, and--a sudden crash sends him to the deck. The vibration of the Athens tumbles to a stop.
"What the hell was that?" spoke the captain, now buried in machinery, debris, and cardboard boxes.
"It appears as though a vessel has pulled into the Starboard Docking Port."
"Well, can't you... un-dock?"
"Allow me to rephrase. It appears as though a vessel blew a large, spaceship-sized hole in the Starboard Docking Port."
"Wait, another ship? That's impossible!"
"Evidently not, captain. Would you like to hail the vessel?"
The captain stood up, brushing himself off, grabbing a large, gun-shaped item from a cabinet near the bulkhead. "No no, I'll handle this myself."
The passengers of the vessel in question were largely dazed, partly angry, and partly frozen. One in particular had begun smashing on the control board of this small, goldfish-shaped spaceship with a large wrench, swearing profusely, using his other, massive, green hand to punch the board in between swings. One other was making a series of slow calculations, observing the several holes in the windshield, the cracks in the hull, and the fur on her left arm, which had caught fire. This was the sight that Captain Adam Extraordinaire had of his visitors upon entering the docking bay, through the windshield, which was, in fact, in the wall of the adjoining mess hall. Adam put a finger up to the glass, which instantly shattered. With its shattering, the once calm Jessica began panicking, swinging from exposed girders and pipes with her tail, swatting at the fire with her four arms. The nine-foot tall Green simply continued smashing. This continued for about thirty seconds until the fire was put out and both Green and Jessica were panting with exhaustion. The panting was interrupted by Adam clearing his throat much louder than one actually clears their throat, resulting in a sudden glare from both of the vessel's occupants.
"Uhm, hello? I'm the captain of this here Lighthouse and I'd appreciate it if you, uh, just went on your way. Okay?" This request was met at first with silence, then with the sudden approach of Green, crawling through the disintegrated windshield.
"WENT ON OUR WAY? WE GO HALF THE EXPANSE AND WIND UP CRASHING INTO YOUR LIGHTHOUSE AND YOU WANT US TO-" he was interrupted by Jessica crawling onto his shoulder, putting a finger to his lips.
"What my colleague here means to say is that we don't exactly have the ability to leave, if you'll notice our ship is a bit... unusable." The primate's shrill voice, had the exact pitch and rhythm that gives people headaches, and it only served to make the situation more tense. Green said nothing, but foamed at the mouth.
The captain replied, "I understand that, definitely, but I'm kind of in a hurry, so-" being interrupted by yet another visito. A machine slid unnaturally out of the vessel, its humanoid limbs seeming to glide over and barely touch any surface, turning and contorting in inhuman ways. It was freaky as hell. "That's freaky as hell," the captain murmured.
The android stood faceplate to face with the captain, its soulless amalgam of voices calling out in cacophony, "Fresh meat. Good, soft meat. Fresh meat for butchering." It holds up a hand, quickly refolding parts into a wicked blade. He's held back by Jessica, leaping onto his shoulder, chiding him for being a "naughty killbot".
At this point specifically I need to fill out more of the crew, and if y'all have any sci-fi or fantasy characters lying about that you'd be willing to put up for adoption, I'd be more than happy to take them in.
I
"We're ready when you are, captain," spoke the metallic voice of a computer, one hastily attached to countless panels, buttons, and outlets with thousands of knotted and bent cables, many with some very suspicious areas covered in duct tape.
A ruggedly handsome and unbelievably attractive man, an absolute unit, replies with nothing more than a stoic "Very well. On my mark." And he says it like that bald guy on Star Trek. Overall, just captain-ly. But not bald. Like a hairy captain. But not too hairy. Just like a normal amount of hair for a space captain.
The SS Athens sits lazily in its cradle of orange and purple, the errant gasses of a dead star, waiting, yearning, for its new great adventure. Its brave, humble captain raised this ship from nothing, an abandoned Lighthouse on the edges of the Expanse made into a spitfire of a ship. It hums to life, jets of plasma and atmosphere spurting out of random holes, a massive spherical engine on its bottom spinning and glowing blue, brighter and brighter, whipping the space cloud around it into a massive vortex. It rattles with anticipation for its great escape. Its captain rattles with a tin of breath mints, trying and failing to get one out as the ship around him vibrates angrily, sloppily stacked tools and computers falling to the ground.
"Captain, might I recommend we depart soon? By my estimation, the hull will split in roughly sixteen seconds." The computer sounds concerned, but not the unflappable captain. He simply raises a hand, pulls it back, and--a sudden crash sends him to the deck. The vibration of the Athens tumbles to a stop.
"What the hell was that?" spoke the captain, now buried in machinery, debris, and cardboard boxes.
"It appears as though a vessel has pulled into the Starboard Docking Port."
"Well, can't you... un-dock?"
"Allow me to rephrase. It appears as though a vessel blew a large, spaceship-sized hole in the Starboard Docking Port."
"Wait, another ship? That's impossible!"
"Evidently not, captain. Would you like to hail the vessel?"
The captain stood up, brushing himself off, grabbing a large, gun-shaped item from a cabinet near the bulkhead. "No no, I'll handle this myself."
The passengers of the vessel in question were largely dazed, partly angry, and partly frozen. One in particular had begun smashing on the control board of this small, goldfish-shaped spaceship with a large wrench, swearing profusely, using his other, massive, green hand to punch the board in between swings. One other was making a series of slow calculations, observing the several holes in the windshield, the cracks in the hull, and the fur on her left arm, which had caught fire. This was the sight that Captain Adam Extraordinaire had of his visitors upon entering the docking bay, through the windshield, which was, in fact, in the wall of the adjoining mess hall. Adam put a finger up to the glass, which instantly shattered. With its shattering, the once calm Jessica began panicking, swinging from exposed girders and pipes with her tail, swatting at the fire with her four arms. The nine-foot tall Green simply continued smashing. This continued for about thirty seconds until the fire was put out and both Green and Jessica were panting with exhaustion. The panting was interrupted by Adam clearing his throat much louder than one actually clears their throat, resulting in a sudden glare from both of the vessel's occupants.
"Uhm, hello? I'm the captain of this here Lighthouse and I'd appreciate it if you, uh, just went on your way. Okay?" This request was met at first with silence, then with the sudden approach of Green, crawling through the disintegrated windshield.
"WENT ON OUR WAY? WE GO HALF THE EXPANSE AND WIND UP CRASHING INTO YOUR LIGHTHOUSE AND YOU WANT US TO-" he was interrupted by Jessica crawling onto his shoulder, putting a finger to his lips.
"What my colleague here means to say is that we don't exactly have the ability to leave, if you'll notice our ship is a bit... unusable." The primate's shrill voice, had the exact pitch and rhythm that gives people headaches, and it only served to make the situation more tense. Green said nothing, but foamed at the mouth.
The captain replied, "I understand that, definitely, but I'm kind of in a hurry, so-" being interrupted by yet another visito. A machine slid unnaturally out of the vessel, its humanoid limbs seeming to glide over and barely touch any surface, turning and contorting in inhuman ways. It was freaky as hell. "That's freaky as hell," the captain murmured.
The android stood faceplate to face with the captain, its soulless amalgam of voices calling out in cacophony, "Fresh meat. Good, soft meat. Fresh meat for butchering." It holds up a hand, quickly refolding parts into a wicked blade. He's held back by Jessica, leaping onto his shoulder, chiding him for being a "naughty killbot".
