Mass Effect fic ... finally ... sort of ...
Being the world's worst procrastinator, when I say 'I'm writing a story', that usually means I've written a sentence and am reading other people's stories as a distraction.
However, I really, honest-to-goodness, had been writing a chapter, a one-shot, set after the Omega-4 Relay mission in ME2. I started it to see whether I was any good at writing smut. Turns out, 1,300 words later, I'm still not sure if I am. Anyway, while I was writing it, I decided it was eventually going to fit into my overall trilogy-spanning fic I'd always planned to write about my Commander Shepard. But that was no good if I hadn't actually started it, right?
So I've started it. It doesn't have a title yet (I hate titles), it's only 450 words of opening scene, it hasn't been beta'd (I don't have a beta), but because announcing to the world I'm doing something tends to kick my arse into gear to keep doing it, I'm going to post those first few words here anyway ...
More coming soon, I hope.
Title: It doesn't have one yet. Deal with it.
Characters: Kaidan Alenko, Jenkins
Rating: T (for this ... once it's posted as a finished chapter, I'll rate M for the whole story - there will eventually be smut, violence, and varying levels of gore)
Warnings: n/a
Damned bureaucrats, he thought. I swear this job wouldn’t be as stressful if they just let us get on with it.
“I’m sorry, did you say something, Lieutenant?”
Shit. “No, Corporal ...”, he searched the man’s face trying to remember who he was. So many new faces, names and designations to remember. That’s what happened when you were shunted from posting to posting, he thought.
“Jenkins. Corporal Jenkins, Lieutenant.” The eager-looking man stood to attention.
“Right, Corporal Jenkins. Lieutenant Alenko,” he said, grudgingly offering an introduction. “There’s no need for the formalities, Jenkins. Save it for the Captain.”
“Sorry sir, right, of course. Sorry, sir,” said Jenkins, stumbling over his words.
Alenko turned away, massaging his forehead with one hand and shifting the weight of his pack over his shoulder with the other. He left the awkward Corporal still standing to attention and walked off the docking bay toward the ship’s airlock.
The new crew had had several days to familiarize themselves with the SSV Normandy SR-1. Docked at Arcturus Station, the ship was a prototype stealth frigate, only recently commissioned by the Alliance Military. This was going to be her first run with a full crew, and the brass’ caution in making sure everything was checked, double-checked, and checked again, was slowing things down. Alenko had spent a lot of time aboard the ship over the past few days, getting used to its state-of-the-art systems and turian-based design, but he, along with the majority of the rest of the crew, had been bunking on the station until today. Alenko hoped the order he’d received that morning to move into the Normandy’s quarters meant they would finally get started with their mission. And get away from this damned station, he thought.
Standing in the airlock’s decontamination chamber, Alenko rubbed his forehead again. He recognized the signs of a migraine starting to creep in behind his eyes - a mild one this time - and knew he needed to try and calm down before it got a chance to take hold properly. The last few weeks had been stressful ones, professionally and personally, and the repeated hold-ups weren’t helping when all Alenko wanted to do was get away from Arcturus, to put a little distance - hell, a galaxy of distance - between him and.... Alenko absently pulled his data-pad from his back pocket and went to bring up the other message he’d received that morning. He stopped. No, he thought. I don’t need this crap. As the decontamination process stopped, he stuffed the data-pad back into his pocket and walked onto the Normandy.
---------
This is where I say to be continued ... I guess. Told you it was short. But it's a start.
However, I really, honest-to-goodness, had been writing a chapter, a one-shot, set after the Omega-4 Relay mission in ME2. I started it to see whether I was any good at writing smut. Turns out, 1,300 words later, I'm still not sure if I am. Anyway, while I was writing it, I decided it was eventually going to fit into my overall trilogy-spanning fic I'd always planned to write about my Commander Shepard. But that was no good if I hadn't actually started it, right?
So I've started it. It doesn't have a title yet (I hate titles), it's only 450 words of opening scene, it hasn't been beta'd (I don't have a beta), but because announcing to the world I'm doing something tends to kick my arse into gear to keep doing it, I'm going to post those first few words here anyway ...
More coming soon, I hope.
Title: It doesn't have one yet. Deal with it.
Characters: Kaidan Alenko, Jenkins
Rating: T (for this ... once it's posted as a finished chapter, I'll rate M for the whole story - there will eventually be smut, violence, and varying levels of gore)
Warnings: n/a
Damned bureaucrats, he thought. I swear this job wouldn’t be as stressful if they just let us get on with it.
“I’m sorry, did you say something, Lieutenant?”
Shit. “No, Corporal ...”, he searched the man’s face trying to remember who he was. So many new faces, names and designations to remember. That’s what happened when you were shunted from posting to posting, he thought.
“Jenkins. Corporal Jenkins, Lieutenant.” The eager-looking man stood to attention.
“Right, Corporal Jenkins. Lieutenant Alenko,” he said, grudgingly offering an introduction. “There’s no need for the formalities, Jenkins. Save it for the Captain.”
“Sorry sir, right, of course. Sorry, sir,” said Jenkins, stumbling over his words.
Alenko turned away, massaging his forehead with one hand and shifting the weight of his pack over his shoulder with the other. He left the awkward Corporal still standing to attention and walked off the docking bay toward the ship’s airlock.
The new crew had had several days to familiarize themselves with the SSV Normandy SR-1. Docked at Arcturus Station, the ship was a prototype stealth frigate, only recently commissioned by the Alliance Military. This was going to be her first run with a full crew, and the brass’ caution in making sure everything was checked, double-checked, and checked again, was slowing things down. Alenko had spent a lot of time aboard the ship over the past few days, getting used to its state-of-the-art systems and turian-based design, but he, along with the majority of the rest of the crew, had been bunking on the station until today. Alenko hoped the order he’d received that morning to move into the Normandy’s quarters meant they would finally get started with their mission. And get away from this damned station, he thought.
Standing in the airlock’s decontamination chamber, Alenko rubbed his forehead again. He recognized the signs of a migraine starting to creep in behind his eyes - a mild one this time - and knew he needed to try and calm down before it got a chance to take hold properly. The last few weeks had been stressful ones, professionally and personally, and the repeated hold-ups weren’t helping when all Alenko wanted to do was get away from Arcturus, to put a little distance - hell, a galaxy of distance - between him and.... Alenko absently pulled his data-pad from his back pocket and went to bring up the other message he’d received that morning. He stopped. No, he thought. I don’t need this crap. As the decontamination process stopped, he stuffed the data-pad back into his pocket and walked onto the Normandy.
---------
This is where I say to be continued ... I guess. Told you it was short. But it's a start.