Monday, 26 August 2013

First chapter, 2nd draft

Here is the second draft of my first chapter. Hopefully you can see improvements and a big difference between this and the first draft here:

First Draft


Silence. Charlie loved the silence of the bridge once she had it to herself. Both of her pilots were sleeping after pulling two nineteen hour shifts. Whilst she didn’t have their skillset, Charlie could certainly operate the basic commands if need be.
    Green eyes landed on the asteroid belt before the front window of her ship, the Valhalla. It wasn’t a big vessel. Just a couple of hundred metres nose to tail and maybe half of that across. But it was hers.
    A content sigh escaped her as she slumped into the pilots seat just that little bit further. The blinking stars that sat on the blanket of black space attracted her attention. Maybe one day we’ll be out there. The thought made her smile with imagination. Wondering what was out there, beyond the asteroid belt, beyond Mars and all of the other space stations. The faint thought of aliens came to mind and she chuckled at that idea. Until she saw a living breathing alien, she wouldn’t believe in such a thing.
    An uneasy feeling settled itself in the pit of her stomach, making her shuffle in her seat. A frown started to form. Her eyes went back to the lumps of rock the lumps of free floating rocks four hundred metres in front of them that circled in zero gravity. Nothing to hold them in place and nothing to stop them from advancing. Two stray rocks collided and the larger of the two began a tumbling dive towards the ship. On the sensor screen she watched as the rock got closer. 350 metres. 300 metres. 250 metres. 200 metres. 150 metres. There was a low hum that reverberated around the bridge. The corner of her mouth tugged up as she listened to the automated tracking array take aim at the rock. 100 metres. A set of white streams marked a path that split the rock into tiny, miniscule pieces. No longer a threat.
    That was what they were doing there among the rocks that made up the asteroid belt. Making sure none of them made their way back to Mars, Earth or the space stations that held human life. Every ship had to endure the border patrol, the maintaining of the belt.
    But something still felt off. Her stomach twisted again, almost expecting something to happen. Waiting.
    A yawn escaped her and she stretched, grabbed the mug that sat on the console in front of her and pouted at the empty sight. Pushing herself up from her seat she checked that everything was on automatic, checked that every sensor was working and the alarm set for any emergencies before she moved up the short flight of stairs that led off the bridge.
    A blue eyed man in the doorway stopped her in her tracks. Zachary Chamberlin. Her pilot. “Captain,” he greeted with a sleepy nod.
    “Zach,” she nodded back. “What happened to the mandatory ten hour sleep I gave you?”
    “Fuck that,” he started onto the landing. “I’d feel better if me or Sokoloff were up here.”
    Charlie shook her head. Every person had a comfort zone and there were times when those comforts were not to be pushed. This was one of them. “Well when she’s finished her shut eye you catch up on yours.”
    “Aye, Aye ma’am.”
    She rolled her eyes and made it to the doorway before she turned back, “Wake me if there’s an emergency.”
    “Sure thing.”
    The hallway led straight to the mess hall where she found one of her engineers, Wes Eliot, sat cradling a cup of coffee. “Can’t sleep?” She offered the Kenyan man.
    Rows of white teeth appeared, “Just keeping the engine running. I saw Zach.”
    “Yeah. Well don’t stay up too long. McCallister’s going to run the morning routine.”
    “He know that yet?”
    “Nope.”
    The dark man chuckled. “He’s not going to be happy with that.”
    Charlie smirked. McCallister was a man who enjoyed being in charge, if it wasn’t first thing in the morning. The morning routine she was talking about was a five kilometre jog around the ship, followed by a sparring session in the on ship gym that sat in the belly of the ship. Then they would finish with another two kilometre jog and be allowed an hours rest before breakfast was served. Just because they were on a ship in space didn’t mean they had to become lazy with physical exercise. The Captain enjoyed riling McCallister up every now and then, if only to show him she was still in charge, but everybody knew McCallister was not a morning person. He was often the last to be ready for the morning run.
    “And he’ll be taking it out on you lot.”
    That turned the man’s smirk around. “Captain.”
    “You guys have been lacking a bit. Maybe this will kick your asses into gear.” She left after that, eager to get her own shut eye in before breakfast tomorrow. As she passed McCallister’s room, and Patrick Nelson’s, one of the ships doctors, she put in the command for a five thirty alarm with instructions to his duties that morning. Satisfied she turned down the corridor once more.
    The Captain’s quarters were just past the crew’s quarters having a little more space for private, serious conversations with members of the crew if they were needed. It was roomy enough for a desk, a conference screen, an en suite which had everything crammed in, and a bed with enough room left to stretch her legs out in the mornings. She threw her dirty uniform, a black singlet, dark green over shirt and black cargo pants, into the clothes chute and pulled herself into bed. The clock next to the door read in bright green numbers that it was just past one in the morning.
    The feeling in her stomach was back and she couldn’t fathom why. It was a standard routine trip to the belt, hang around for a couple of weeks then head back to the UNC – United Nations Confederation – an island that sat in the Atlantic Ocean, a conglomerate which made up the entirety of the Earth’s military defence.
    Everything had gone smoothly since they’d departed from the main docking stations. They’d gotten past the atmosphere, past Mars, which had been terra formed to accommodate the growing population, and had reached the belt with no trouble. Nothing out of the ordinary. She twisted in her bed sheets, getting comfortable as the feeling sunk itself into the core of her body. By the time she managed to get any sleep the clock had already read two thirty.


Second Draft:

Silence.
    Charlie loved the silence of the bridge once she had it to herself. Nothing but the blanket of space and the low humming of machines to keep her company. She settled into her seat and let her green eyes drift over the blinking stars that stared back with enigma. Silence. A welcome change to the constant noise that was outside of that room and beyond. No voices. No yelling. No screaming. No laughing. Nothing to interrupt her.
    Both of her pilots were sleeping. She’d relieved them to give them a break and to regulate their sleeping pattern for going back home. Two more days and they would be hitting fresh air and landing on solid ground on Earth. Everybody was excited. After the six weeks of patrol with nothing but reheated rations and each other to keep them company, the idea of solid ground was making everyone chipper. The idea of fresh air, compared to the recycled air they breathed, was making Charlie eager to get home.
    A beep on the console drew her forward. She stared at the tiny yellow flashing bulb for twelve flashes before it disappeared. Just a sign that the day on Earth had started again. A standard procedure put into all ships to keep their routine in check with Earth’s. It made the transition from space to ground easier.
    She settled back into the seat and closed her eyes. She hoped that the next two days would run smoothly. She hoped that there would be no reason to pull the ship, Valhalla out of its current position. Their job was to make sure there were no pirate ships on the fringes of space. They were a common occurrence, ‘freeing the enslaved’ and stealing from Command ships. Every ship in Commands fleet had to endure six weeks of patrol to arrest any pirates they spotted. She herself couldn’t understand these crews. They resembled pirates in lore, raiding and pilfering what they can, selling their stolen goods to those that will buy it on the black market, but they had an apparent cause.
    A snort echoed and she stifled it with her teeth on the inside of her bottom lip.
    That was when a moment of worry passed through her mind unannounced. She frowned and stared at the controls in front of her. Her stomach twisted and she wriggled in her seat. There was something bitter in the air and it left the back of her throat dry. She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth and stared at the stars. The air she tried to take in was heavy and it was heavier when she released it. Something was off. But she couldn’t place her finger on it.
    A sigh escaped her. She shook her head and she reached forward for her mug. A pout formed at the empty sight and she turned her eyes to the controls in front of her. She didn’t have a pilots form when it came to control of the ship but she knew enough to operate the basest commands and controls. She checked the auto pilot was still running and turned on the automated alarm system in case of emergencies. If something got too close to the ship an internal ship wide alarm would go off, waking everybody up.
    Satisfied she got up, let a yawn free and turned. The bridge consisted of a large viewing window with two seats behind a series of controls. Just four feet behind these seats sat three seats spaced close together. The Captain’s seat, hers, sat in the middle with the First Mate’s seat on the left and the Second Officer’s on the right. Behind these was a small flight of five steps that led up to the corridor that led straight to the mess hall.
    Her eyes travelled to the open doorway at the sound of feet that stumbled and shuffled their way along. A few seconds passed until Warrant Officer Zachary Chamberlin appeared in the doorway, one hand scrunched up in his face. “Captain,” the German greeted with a tired nod.
    “Zach,” she nodded back. “What happened to the mandatory sleep I gave you?”
   “Fuck that,” he muttered. His feet carried him down the flight of stairs to meet her. “No offence
Captain but I’d feel better if me or Soko were up here.”
    Charlie couldn’t argue. Every person had a comfort zone. When it came to her pilots she didn’t want to intrude. “Well when she’s awake I want you to catch up on yours. That’s an order.” She started past him. “We’re home in two days. Let’s not forget that.”
   “Aye, Aye Ma’am.” She rolled her eyes at the term of address. One thing she’d made clear with everybody was to not call her ‘Ma’am’. It made her feel old. Many still enjoyed pressing her buttons now and again. For some it was ingrained and it would take a lot for her to un-ingrain it.
    Her feet touched the boundary between hallway and bridge before she turned. “Wake me if there’s an emergency.”
    “Sure thing.”
    She turned and left then. The hallway was a tunnel of dull grey metal with dim lights situated three feet apart. It led straight to the mess hall where she found one of her engineers, Sergeant Wes Eliot. The Kenyan man had a freshly brewed coffee cradled in two large hands. “Can’t sleep?” she offered.
    Rows of white teeth appeared. “Just keeping the engine running. I saw Zach.” The pilot didn’t go by rank or surname like other soldiers. The man hated his name and it hadn’t taken everyone long to adopt to calling him ‘Zach’. Even the officers in Command referred to him as Zach when it wasn’t going on the official records.
    “Yeah well don’t stay up too long. McCallister’s going to run the morning routine.”
    “He know that yet?”
    “Nope.”
    The dark man chuckled. “He’s not going to be happy with that.”
    Charlie smirked and set her cup in the sink. McCallister was a man who enjoyed being in charge on the condition that it wasn’t first thing in the morning. The morning routine she talked about was a five kilometre run around the ship, followed by a sparring session in the on-ship gym that sat in the belly of the ship. They would finish with a two kilometre jog. After that they would be allowed an hour of rest before breakfast was served. Being on a ship in space and away from Earth didn’t justify laziness. Which by the end of the standard six weeks her crew were showing signs of.
    But everybody knew McCallister was not a morning person. He was often the last to be ready when Charlie was in charge. “And he’ll be taking it out on you lot.”
    That turned the man’s smirk around. “Captain,” he whined.
    “You guys have been getting lazy. Maybe this will kick your asses into gear.” She left after that, eager to get her own shut eye in before breakfast tomorrow. The crew’s quarters were nestled along the opposite corridor to the bridge and they were usually bunked in two’s or three’s depending upon crew size. As she passed McCallister’s room she put in a command for a five thirty alarm on the control panel outside the door along with a quick list of instructions for his duties that morning. Once satisfied she turned down the corridor once again.
    The Captain’s quarters sat at the end of the hall. It was a door that sat next to the stairs that led down. Inside, the space was a small office with enough room to fit five or six people with her behind the desk and conference screen. A door led off to the right which housed her bed and en-suite. Every crew’s quarters had a bathroom attached, but she didn’t have to share hers. It had what few belongings she’d brought with her and enough space to stretch her legs in the mornings.
    She threw her dirty uniform, a black singlet, dark green over shirt and black cargo pants, into the clothes chute and pulled herself into bed. The clock next to the door, spread across the control panel, read in bright green numbers that it was half twelve. The light was knocked off from a switch next to her bed and she rolled over.
    The feeling in her stomach was back. It made her uncomfortable and wriggled itself within her chest. She couldn’t fathom why it was making her so on edge. Their mission was a standard routine trip that was almost over. Not a hitch. Departure had been routine. They lingered on the edge of explored space, in the standard waiting post, and nothing spectacular had happened. The most exciting thing to have happened outside the ship was a stray asteroid just fifty metres in length. The automated targeting array had taken care of that.
    But nothing was out of place.
   She twisted in the bed sheets, desperate to get comfortable as the uneasy feeling spread itself into the core of her body. It sat like a lead weight, cold against her flesh and sharp against her ribs. By the time slumber sucked her under the clock had read two thirty.

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I know it's a really long post but I want to show you how my editing is going on. And it's the first chapter. So here you go. And feedback would be appreciated. Be as harsh as you like. 

Happy Writing. 

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