MSC – Nordenskjöld – Slavery
Title: Memoirs of a Space Corsair – Nordenskjöld – Slavery
Author: Jonathan L. Lawrence (Sage/JL Legend on this blog)
Genre: Science fiction
Word Count: 6,796
Warnings/Spoilers: There is violence, foul language, and references other things that may upset the reader, including reference to (but not description thereof) of non-consensual sexual activity.
Credits: Everyone who reads my blog, and has put up with my failed promises of writing, and those following me on Twitter that put up with my Tweets as I was writing and editing this.
Disclaimer: This is entirely an original story, all copyright to this works, and associated works with these characters and the universe I have created belong to me (Jonathan L. Lawrence) and me alone. I do not sanction the use of my ideas anywhere else, other than for linking back to source, and fair use. Please go here to learn more about copyright: Copyright Service
Summary: This is the third instalment in a regular series I am trying to create, set some five hundred years in the future; it follows the trial and tribulations of one man as he tries to survive in a hostile galaxy. In the process, he will become a famous pirate with a cause, a corsair. Arsène Frassin recounts to us himself his life, and we are still early in his adventures. HE has survived captured by pirates, and life in captivity, now the next phase begins – slavery. The fourth chapter in this tale will be forthcoming, however enjoy the third chapter. If you’ve not read the earlier chapters they can be found at:
1st Chapter – Captivity Part One – Terrors of Space
2nd Chapter – Captivity Part Two – Induction
It was maybe an hour after I gave my rousing speech that the door opened. Chris Garland, Connor Wilde, Tim Murail, Garth Bruch, and Terry (I didn’t yet know his real name), all gathered by me, I was now the de facto leader of our motley group. We were waifs, captives of unknown people, some of us had served with me as labourers aboard the Reina del Mar, a luxury space liner, the others had their own stories, all of us had our horrors to bear. However an hour before we had declared ourselves survivors, and whatever was thrown at us with this door opening, after a month of captivity, we would survive, and eventually earn our freedom. That I swore to myself as much to the others.
We were currently held in quarantine with slavers, and the night before we had been told that today we would be sold. Slavery wasn’t practiced in the Epsilon Eridani system, which was home to a large number of us, and we didn’t really know what to expect, other than what we had read about, or seen in vids.
We had known the door was about to open, the light that came through the small window in the door had been blocked briefly. Now as the door opened, we saw a man stood there. Previously, the only outsiders we had seen had been masked, in case we carried an infection of some variety, but this man had no mask.
I recognised him immediately from his eyes though, he had pretty much been with us since we arrived from our capture and transit by pirates to this space station. I didn’t know him really, he had barely said a word, but at the same time, I did have an affinity with him, having been with us since the beginning.
“Out,” he said in English, but with an accent I didn’t recognise, but gestured us to follow him.
We did as we were told, we had no option, the previous night, we had acted out against a traitor in our midst, and we had seen how they dealt with us. I still ached from the repeated hits by some sort of club or bat that had shocked me even as it battered me. Connor too knew the terrifying effect of those bats, having led the violence and earned a beating following by a club to the head with one of those things. Fortunately other than pain, it didn’t seem to have lasting effects, or I would have dreaded what a blow to the head with one could have done.
As we stepped into the corridor, there were wash basins, and fresh overalls to change into. This usually happened once a week, but we had been through this yesterday - obviously we were to look clean and healthy before being sold in. Maybe it raised the price, we had been told by the traitor that fit and healthy slaves sold better, that is why we had had the relative comforts of our current cell.
A prison was a prison to me back then, but I must admit, it was a massive improvement on the month or so, we had spent in transit aboard the pirate ship that brought us to this station, there we had lived in squalid filth, with the only consideration to our wellbeing, a tube that fed a slop into a trough for us to eat. Here we had been fed meat and vegetables, given medication, been allowed to wash, and had a form of toilet to use, rather than just a corner of our cell.
All in all, looking back it may have been a cage, but it had its comforts. None of us knew what comforts, if any, would exist as we left this place.
MSC – Captivity Part Two – Induction
Title: Memoirs of a Space Corsair - Captivity Part Two - Induction
Author: Jonathan L. Lawrence (Sage on this blog)
Genre: Science fiction
Word Count: 7,863
Warnings/Spoilers: There is violence, foul language, and conditions of torture that may be uncomfortable for some
Credits: Everyone who reads my blog, and has put up with my failed promises of writing, and those following me on Twitter that put up with my Tweets as I was writing and editing this.
Disclaimer: This is entirely an original story, all copyright to this works, and associated works with these characters, and the universe I have created belong to my (Jonathan L. Lawrence), and me alone. I do not sanction the use of my ideas anywhere else, other than for linking back to source, and fair use. Please go here to learn more about copyright: Copyright Service
Summary: This is the second instalment in a regular series I am trying to create, set some five hundred years in the futures, it follows the trial and tribulations of one man as he tries to survive in a hostile galaxy. In the process, he will become a famous pirate with a cause, a corsair. However, we’re not there yet, first we must learn where our intrepid anti-hero comes from, this second chapter follows on directly from the events of the first, after being captured by an unknown party from the Reina del Mar, a luxury liner, and seeing many of his friends die, or be maimed, he know must traverse a new reality, and find the steel within himself to be who he must be to survive. The third chapter in this tale will be forthcoming, however enjoy the second chapter. If you've not read the first chapter, it can be found here.
As I wallowed, selfishly, in my own misery, after having dug for days through foul refuse, I barely even registered the jolt in the room. Chris did however.
"What was that?" he exclaimed.
"What?" I asked, only realising the jolt had happened after I responded.
"I felt it," Garth said, "The whole room bumped."
"What do you think it was?" Tim asked.
None of us knew, but we hoped it was the start of the end of our captivity. Whatever it was, for the first time since we had been locked up, it was a change to our situation not of our own making. We had been in our cell for weeks, during that time we had seen neither sight nor sound of anyone else, but the four of us here. We had been captured on the Reina del Mar, a luxury space cruiser, where we each of the four were labourers. With me were Chris (a good friend), and two others, Tim and Garth, who I wasn't that well acquainted with. I think, had things worked out differently, all four of us would have had a bond for life having shared the same hell.
If we thought that jolt was somehow exciting, half an hour later we practically jibbering hens as sirens went off.
"What is it?" we asked in various forms, as if more information would be revealed by repeatedly asking.
The siren paid us no heed though, it just kept going. It was a klaxon noise, a high pitched noise, followed two lower pitch noises.
It was Garth who recognised it first.
"It’s a docking alarm," Garth said, feeling a bit of confidence from how we suddenly all gathered round him, he was now the centre of our group, the man with the information.
"Go on," we urged him.
"Well back on the Reina del Mar, I do some work in the cargo hold when we docked at stations. That sounds like the buzzer that was used when the cargo doors opened," he said proudly informing us. "We must have docked," he added.
"Wonder where we are?" Chris asked.
Garth just shrugged, he had given us all the information we had. It didn't stop us speculating, and for the next hour, in fact that’s all we did.
Our theories ranged from the rescue we all hoped for by one of the major navies of this area of space, to the less certain prospect of one pirate ship in battle with another, that was now being boarded.
We had no real ideas, until there was another jolt, this one was much heavier, and definitely involved our area of the ship. We had the sensation of being moved, (something you don't really feel on a ship, due to the inertial dampeners in place, and the gravity plating commonly employed on large ships), with the occasional sudden jolt. We were sent careening across the room one time at a sudden sharp jolt.
After that there was nothing, even the sound of the klaxon was replaced by silence. By now were tired, smelly, dirty, bruised, battered and hungry, Garth had a nose bleed from when he fell. We were completely miserable and would have done anything to escape - only there was absolutely nothing left to do, but wait.
As it was, we only had to wait an hour (as far as I could estimate), before there was activity once more. This time noises came from the door, a stiff cranking sound, followed by a hiss of depressurisation.
MSC – Captivity Part One – Terrors of Space
Title: Memoirs of a Space Corsair - Captivity Part One - Terrors of Space
Author: Jonathan L. Lawrence (Sage on this blog)
Genre: Science fiction
Word Count: 6,192
Warnings/Spoilers: There is a bit of violence, foul language, and conditions of torture that may be uncomfortable for some
Credits: Everyone who reads my blog, and has put up with my failed promises of writing, and those following me on Twitter that put up with my Tweets as I was writing and editing this.
Disclaimer: © Jonathan L. Lawrence, 2010. This is entirely an original story, all copyright to this works, and associated works with these characters, and the universe I have created belong to me, (Jonathan L. Lawrence), and me alone. I do not sanction the use of my ideas anywhere else, other than for linking back to source, and fair use. Please go here to learn more about copyright: Copyright Service
Summary: This is the first instalment in a regular series I am trying to create, set some five hundred years in the futures, it follows the trial and tribulations of one man as he tries to survive in a hostile galaxy. In the process, he will become a famous pirate with a cause, a corsair. However, we’re not there yet, first we must learn where our intrepid anti-hero comes from, this first chapter is about his launch into space, and the terrifying consequences of his reach for the stars. The second chapter in this tale will be forthcoming, however in the meantime enjoy this opening salvo of what will hopefully be a long and fulfilling tale.
It’s been a hell of a life.
I don't know who will read this or why, maybe it will make this humble man famous, and infuriate those that mean my end. I do not know. I can only hope, a true account of my life leaks out, and pisses off those that seek to vilify me, more than my due anyway. In small acts of vengeance a wrong man can find comfort I guess.
I sit here writing this in relatively sanitary conditions, (compared with some of my other experiences), a prisoner of corruption and criminals, you probably know the type, the ones that style themselves as "leaders of men", the governments of this galaxy.
If this is the end, it’s been a hell of a life, and I wanted to tell my side of it.
My name is Arsène Frassin, formerly of Pôle Nord, Epsilon Eridani c.
I was born there sixty-four years ago, in the Spring of 2522 (or 392PC depending on where you’re from). My father was a bureaucrat, a port accountant, my mother a store clerk at our town's OriMart (a retail wholesaler). You might think, given the account of my life I am about to retell, I would have had a hard, or repressive childhood, but actually it was okay, until I ventured into space. I went to a middle of the road school, nothing fancy, but efficient, well meaning, and thorough, did well enough academically, though I would say that it left me completely unprepared for the realities of life – there are some things I have learnt you just can’t teach, but I wish they could have.
On our town habitat on Eridani c, near the poles (appropriately named Pôle Nord as I mentioned), most of the business and job opportunities revolved around trade, transport and administration. Areas near the poles are the easiest and most efficient to land ships, and have them take off again after. Even with the relatively light atmosphere and gravity of our small planet, this was important. My first job was with the warehouse retailer where my mother worked, however I soon found it wasn't the career for me. I tried to join the local civil service, however times were tough and they weren't employing, despite my father’s position (which was recognised for its importance). Staying in our home city was limiting, it was a specialised place, however all my life I had watched ships land and take off, ships that had drifted among the stars themselves, travelling from world to world, across vast distances.
That I knew, back then, was what I wanted to do. I wanted to sail through the vastness of space, see alien worlds, and become one with the stars. I really did describe it as such back then, the wonders of youth, the poetical vision. I could have sought employment in other areas of our world, my education was good enough to apprentice in a number of positions, but space filled my vision and my dreams.
The following year I was old enough (15) to accept a commission aboard a star liner, and I signed up straight away. Star Liners were huge ships, carrying masses of people, and tonnes of cargo, and they were always hiring. I was to be a cleaner, I reasoned, being smart, and eager I would quickly rise up the ranks, and such a lowly position wouldn’t hold me for long, so it didn’t matter as long as I was sailing. Again the wonders of youth at such an innocent view of life, optimism abounded as I ventured into unknown waters.
I had only a week to get ready after signing up before I was to leave aboard the behemoth ship. I bid my farewells to my family, travelled round, having meals with relatives that I wouldn't see again for four years (which was a "season", or the standard length of a single term commission aboard space craft back then).
The ship I was commissioned on was the Norstel Spaceways deluxe cruiser Reina del Mar, which was only a moderate size ship, but of opulent quality for its high fare paying guests, and more than big enough to make my eyes bulge as I watched out through a scope hovering in space as its shuttles ferried back and forth.
Another update – but good news!
Well the time has finally come, I'm going to actually show some brand new original writing on my part.
The first two chapters of my Memoirs of a Space Corsair are completed, and edited (though I offer no gaurentee to the quality of my self-editing, especially in the small hours of the morning). I've really gone for a bleak start to my characters adventures, and the third chapter will largely be bleak, though of course I can not keep it in such bleak a circumstance, I'm fairly sure if it continued into a fourth chapter, Arsène Frassin (my main character), would probably but aside his principles and simply off himself. He's been through a lot, poor lad.
Hopefully these first two chapters give you a hint of the potential in this boy, trapped by circumstance. It is the foundation for the character, and ultimately the whole series of stories I have planned.
Hopefully, once we move out of these initial chapters, each entry will actually work as its own short story, but feed into the overall plot I intend. However, I must admit, the first three chapters, and possibly into the fourth are sequential, and intended to be read as such. I want to try and keep a word count of between 5,000 and 10,000 per instalment, just because its neater than trying to read 30,000 words in a single posting, and more convenient for the style of writing I want to achieve. As we do move into later chapters, and each adventure is one instalment (albeit with the possibility of an adventure or two being split across two instalments), it should feel a bit more like the pulp fiction of the first half of the twentieth century. I suppose I should come up with a garish and extravagant cover or two to go with milestones in my story.
I am finding this project very exciting, and its been relatively easy to write (albeit in between work, and family), but I can honestly say, the editing has been a lot tougher. I'm sure if I were to re-read either chapter through right now, I'd probably find another hour or two of changes to be made. There is little time for that before the first chapter publishes, so I shall let it lie, plenty of time before the scheduler posts up the second chapter though.
I had to have a little think about the impact of posting a story online, just as with poetry, I want to share my creative works, but a part of you does wonder, what would I do if someone misappropriated my ideas? I've of course added "© Jonathan L. Lawrence, 2010", but also a disclaimer at the beginning, spelling out that this is mine, and mine alone. This may be overkill - however when I ran forum for writers, way back when, the issue of copyright did come up, and I can appreciate the wronged parties point of view.
I want to do a post on copyright, (I did do one previously, but it was more an idea, rather than a real look at the subject), and will probably do this week. I sometimes think copyright isn't really reflective of the time, yet at the same time, I want my creative works protected as I share it with the world. There has to be a balance somewhere, and maybe it lies with the creators rather than the law to find that balance. Of course I am, in my small, untalented way, a creator, so I'm biased.
Anyway, I hope you read and enjoy the first two chapters, and I hope not keep those that do enjoy it waiting with the third and fourth.
Au revoir,
Sage
P.S. Feedback, good or bad, is always welcome - it makes me feel important that someone felt enough about what I've written that they would say something about it. I am an egotist after all is said and done, otherwise I wouldn't be here. Plus, it might just help shape me into a real writer, then if I was ever published, I'd have to acknowledge your contribution - (bribery gets you everywhere, or it does in Arsène's corrupt world).
Oh and Happy Birthday to Aspiring.org
Just a quickie, my blog is a year old this month - how fantastic, probably not dedicated as much time to it as I should - however still feels great to hit a mile stone.
In the past year I've written forty-eight published posts, five pages, across sixteen categories, using one hundred and eighty-three tags, I've recieved fourteen comments, sixty-one photos across four galleries.
I hope to build from here, and keep this going - I've enjoyed my time here.
Aha! Found You!
My muses have elected to return to me it seems. I suddenly have the ability to write again, and am doing so with gusto working on a new project. I know, I have lots of unfinished projects I should be working on, but I'm just enjoying writing right now.
So the new project, it’s currently titled Journals of a Space Corsair, and is a sci-fi piece. Inspired by the concept of the Bio of a Space Tyrant novels by Piers Anthony, which I read recently, and once I finished reading those books, I also read Michael Crichton's Pirate Latitudes, between the two of them, this whole science fiction universe of mine was inspired and created in my mind. What’s more is I've been able to put it into words, something I’ve struggled to do for the past eighteen months.
It’s a nice feeling, not too many words just yet, but just passed the 20,000 mark in two weeks so that’s a comfort.
The way I'm doing this project is blog posts, it’s an auto-biography, so I'm going to write it as a series of confessionals, the man's story in his own words, detailing his good deeds, but mostly his crimes, the lifestyle he led, and the suffering he brought and received. The hardest part is not giving in to my tendency to make the character a flawed good guy, or to have the character swing from bad to good. I'm trying to write something that reflects a man, and not an archetype from a TV series. That isn't to say there isn't an arc, in fact there's a pretty big one, and my aim is the character goes from illegality to legitimacy, and then back to illegality. Times are turbulent, wars rise up and allegiances change.
I do feel the need to acknowledge Piers Anthony, and Michael Crichton, as their books are a massive influence on this story, it was their books that really lit my imagination on fire.
From Michael Crichton I tried to take a sense of how pirates actually operated, and in many ways how the new world worked, the trade routes between the colonial lands, the stopping off points like Jamaica, which I've tried to translate the spirit of into worlds and space stations.
From Piers Anthony, obviously I've tried to take the format, the fictional autobiography of a significant figure in future history, I'm also borrowing some of the technology he mentions in his books, the travelling via a beam of light, over massive distances, which is as reasonable a way to explain interstellar travel as any. Of course it is fraught with its own difficulties in a story that takes place in real time, with politics, wars, and tactics - I can't really afford it taking decades to travel from one planet to the other. Instead, I shall embellish the idea with faster than light energy - so it takes days and weeks to travel between the stars.
I think it is important to acknowledge where a story comes from - it is not my intention to plagiarise these amazing authors, but they have inspired within me a tale which I think is unique and distinct in its own right. Besides when it comes to science fiction, it’s never easy to come up with easy ideas for propulsion, and story telling in general tends to form into archetypes. I think that’s one of the advantages of writing an account of a self confessed bad guy, while not ground breaking or unique, it is a point of view that is carried far less often than that of a hero, heroically battling to save the world.
My intention is to post up a chapter (and if I write it right, it will be more of a self contained short story, which feeds into the overall tale), every fortnight, detailing a significant memory of this space corsair. I won't be launching it right away, as I want to build up four or five chapters ahead, this gives me a nice cushion with which to edit the stories (because while the muse does flow, it tends not to check the grammar for me, nor does it worry about the annoying inconsistencies of writing large pieces of work in small bits). Also, my sister's baby is due next month, I'm on holiday in Prague in August, and I'm off to the British Science Festival in Birmingham this September, so there’s plenty to interrupt my schedule.
Speaking of the British Science Festival, I’m really looking forward to it, it feeds a lot of knowledge in my science fiction, such as the power system for the ships in my story – I learned that from a presentation I went to on fusion energy, I always favoured the methodology employed in the tokamak fusion generators, rather than the method involving lasers, purely because it seems to me that once such devices as ITER are operational and producing massive quantities of energy, we would be able to learn from this and scale the process down to have a device that can sit aboard a starship and produce the kind of energy I need for propulsion, FTL (faster than light) travel, and of course the staple of most space based science fiction, the weapons.
I am genuinely excited to be writing again, and long may it continue. Nanowrimo is in November (it’s always in November, hardly a surprise there), and this year I'm going to ace it. Mark my words.
Being Creative Isn’t Easy…
Being creative isn't easy, writers block just won't let me go - I get a small amount of joy and then it is gone. Distractions do not help, so many things in my life deflect my attention to the important things. Unfortunately in life we must weigh up the importance, so work is rated higher than writing - because if I don't earn a living, I'll not be able to write anyway.
That said, I'm trying to reclaim some of my life, trying to close off massive projects at work, thus freeing up my time, and my mind outside of work, however as with all things in business, available resources are filled as immediately as they become available. A frustrating situation - however one that should not be moaned about truly, as I said I need to earn a living, and there are unfortunately many people far far worse (by a severe magnitude), than myself for whom lack of work is a significant part of their lives, and writing is far from their immediate concern.
We western writers have it so hard don't we?
An unfortunate thing about writing in the grand scheme of things its relatively worthless, compared with the realities of living. However, the worth of simple joy is not necessarily measured by normal merits of survival, but surely without joy, we may as well not bother to survive.
NaNoWriMo 2009 – The Conclusion
So NaNoWriMo 2009 has come and gone, with much heartache, sleepless nights, sore hands, etc, etc...
I have a confession to make - I didn't finish. This year was not mine for the sweet smell of success. I peaked at 25,000 words (a quarter of my original target). To say I'm disappointed in myself would be an understatement - but equally, I'm not ashamed. Indeed, in many ways I'm quite happy, and proud of myself, during the final weekend, I finally learned to accept I can't write all the time. I want to, don't get me wrong, but sometimes there is no way round the fact that without will, inspiration is relegated to frustration.
I really really don't like failing, but I could have pushed in that final weekend, and pushed, but I would never have hit even the modest target of 50,000, and even if I had. Instead I took a break, having accepted defeat, let go of the pressure - I felt wonderful. So immediately following my return home, I started writing again. Nice and smoothly, and without much effort. In fact I've had some late nights, because the writing has being going so well, and I wasn't aware of the time.
I'm not finishing off my NaNoWriMo project for now, I've put it to one side, as my imagination is caught with a sequel to my previous NaNoWriMo attempt (the one I won last year).
Just shows you, sometimes pressure helps, and other times it hinders - I think for me it's the accumalative pressures I found myself under with family life, work, money, and writing, it made for some unsurmountable obstacles. Until I let go, and found away to enjoy myself away from the pressure.
Annoying Writing Habits…
Doing NaNoWriMo in the company of others has shown me something - how many annoying habits I've built up
I'm not talking about actua writing issues, I'm talking behavourial one. The one I've noticed most often has to be the tapping of keyboards. Not the keys themselves, but the frame or rest area, when I'm trying to think around a problem, or plotting my next move.
I also seem to a very emphatic gesture when hitting the carriage return, it's like every new paragraph is a victory. Also, it seems full stops too.
The other one I've noticed, though I'm trying really hard not to do this in public, is the chewing of my tongue during tense, or really busy period.
There's a few more, but those are probably my biggest crimes against the people around me.
It has led me to wonder, what are your annoying writing habits? Answers on a post card - however since I'm not giving you my address, probably best to answer in a comment.
NaNoWriMo 2009 is a go!
Weeks of anticipation, preparation, and nerves have finally lead to the start of NaNoWriMo 2009.
It started at midnight, and so did I, or close enough (what I actually did was start the procastination early, by waiting an hour to start while I worked on a spreadsheet to track my writing... erm oops). Anyway, today I went to Café Latino in Leeds, met up with another writer doing NaNoWriMo, and we got to work properly on writing our novels.
I'd like to say I'm target, but I'm about four thousand words short as it stands, and annoyingly I'm currently averaging a very poor, and very slow four hundred and fifty three words an hour, I'm not really sure why, the ideas there. Hopefully when a few more characters turn up, and we get some good interaction (not just phone calls), the words will start to flow.
My ideal is to do ten thousand words a day at weekends, with an extra five thousand on a Friday night. Now I know this isn't entirely sustainable, which is where week nights come in, they're my bonus rounds where I can pick a few extra on the word counts, but I can also take some time to create and organise notes, drawings, and do plans to help me at the weekends. The weekend and Fridays plan brings me to my target of one hundred thousand words, across two stories - and thats where I need to focus my efforts.
I don't really need to feel too bad about not hitting target today, this Sunday is an extra, above and beyond the plan, so any words today, just help take a bit of pressure off later on. However, aside from a few chores, and writing this entry I'll be writing right up until bedtime. Sadly this year there won't be any bus writing, my little netbook is still out of order (bang out of order as it were), and I'm confined to using my seventeen inch monster laptop which is just about portable, if I'm writing in a café, or some such, not really something I can sit on a bus with.
I am feeling really confident about this year though, I've got a good plan, and some great ideas. There's a lot of pressure, but I write better with pressure, its how I made it last year, when I did 80% of my novel in just ten days, right at the end.
I'm going to try and fit in time to keep writing here, this is what my blog is for, writing, and discussing writing, and this is the month I'm going to be doing lots of it, so i'll have plenty to discuss.
To all everyone doing NaNoWriMo out there, I wish you all the best of luck.
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