SPACE MOST LIKELY

Monday, March 19, 2012 6:36:41 AM

So I recently had an idea to write a firefly type novel and so I decided to just write a couple lines to get my mind flowing and this is what I came up with, mind you there is no story yet , no outline or anything I just wanted to see if I could do this and so here it is, please let me know what you think.


It was a beautiful day , despite certain unforeseen calamities .
I can not believe this confounded luck I'm having today damnit! If its not one thing its another. When will I ever find a damned mechanic worth his weight in platinum. I yell in frustration as I throw my torque converter against the wall, sparks flying as it lands on the floor with a loud clanking of the titanium plating.
Jess! will you get Monte down to the engine room right now! what does he think I am paying him for , to sleep in his bunk all day and let my ship lay dead in the water?
As I leap up the the stairs leading out of the engine room two at a time , I head towards the quiet of my captains quarters. As Im briskly walking to my room I catch glimpes of my nervous crew out of the corners of my eyes as I pass them , all trying to look hurriedly at work doing whatever they are supposed to be doing at the moment. As I round the corner and come upon my quarters I smash into my medic James. An armful of medical supplies goes flying down the corridor in this direction and that. Son of A**** I barely get out as my lungs have all the air rushed out when I land flat on my back with a loud thud.
Damn-it James watch where your going ! I yell as I pick myself up
S-ss-sorry sir! My mistake , it won't happen again! he says as he scurries around picking up his supplies.
Just don't let it happen again , ok? as I continue to my room and access the com panel to open my door. I ease into my room enjoying the wafting smell of gun oils fill the air and my lungs , I had laid out my guns and was cleaning them before the engine mishap, in my haste I had left them out .
I slump heavily into my favorite chair at my work bench and continue where I left off , cleaning my baby- my mark vi repeater rifle. I heft it off the bench , and feel its weight in my hands, a comfortable 9.5 pounds of precision , 60 rounds per minute , 50. cal flesh eating titanium bullets.
This gun has seen me through many a rough scramble. As I grab my cloth and finish polishing the barrel I immediately am put at ease and totally forget about my problems...its amazing what a good gun can do.