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ellarienI think the Behemoth plot is firming up, but not to the point where I want to look at it too directly. In the meantime, I'm starting to play around a bit with the details of the setting. There's this ship, see ...
A quarter-mile long, rock-built, crystal-encrusted ship that trundles along the crystalline lanes of hyperspace, taking weeks or months between planets. A heavy hauler, delivering grain and ore and machinery from colony to colony. Possibly passengers, too; since the backstory, there isn't really any other way to get around, but this isn't primarily a people-mover. Who handles the trading? How do the economics work? How big is the crew, and how did they get there? How many children? Pets? And how do all those people fit into the story? I know about the Captain and the Communications Officer, the doctor, the engineer, but that's about all. (Umm. That sounds a lot like the primary cast of a Star Trek franchise. Trust me, this is not Star Trek!)
Most of the story takes place aboard the ship, so it needs to be a rich, engaging environment.
There's a garden, I think. Probably my sudden focus on this has something to do with the time I've been spending lately wandering around the campus with the camera. Not just hydroponics tanks, but a cathedral-sized, bright-as-day garden, a refuge as well as a food source, with trees and cacti and flowers from half a dozen different worlds and a wall of memorial tablets for long-dead crew. The Shipwights have their own, too, concealed somewhere in the belly of the ship and even more full of wonders.
The ship is far older than the civilization that now thinks they own it. Modern panels square off cabins and corridors in the human areas, but behind is curving, gnarly stone, and eerie light that glows through the seams at night. The walls in the computer rooms are scarred where generation after generation of different-sized cabinets have been installed and removed; a knowledgeable eye can trace the rise and fall of more than one technology boom in those marks.
A quarter-mile long, rock-built, crystal-encrusted ship that trundles along the crystalline lanes of hyperspace, taking weeks or months between planets. A heavy hauler, delivering grain and ore and machinery from colony to colony. Possibly passengers, too; since the backstory, there isn't really any other way to get around, but this isn't primarily a people-mover. Who handles the trading? How do the economics work? How big is the crew, and how did they get there? How many children? Pets? And how do all those people fit into the story? I know about the Captain and the Communications Officer, the doctor, the engineer, but that's about all. (Umm. That sounds a lot like the primary cast of a Star Trek franchise. Trust me, this is not Star Trek!)
Most of the story takes place aboard the ship, so it needs to be a rich, engaging environment.
There's a garden, I think. Probably my sudden focus on this has something to do with the time I've been spending lately wandering around the campus with the camera. Not just hydroponics tanks, but a cathedral-sized, bright-as-day garden, a refuge as well as a food source, with trees and cacti and flowers from half a dozen different worlds and a wall of memorial tablets for long-dead crew. The Shipwights have their own, too, concealed somewhere in the belly of the ship and even more full of wonders.
The ship is far older than the civilization that now thinks they own it. Modern panels square off cabins and corridors in the human areas, but behind is curving, gnarly stone, and eerie light that glows through the seams at night. The walls in the computer rooms are scarred where generation after generation of different-sized cabinets have been installed and removed; a knowledgeable eye can trace the rise and fall of more than one technology boom in those marks.
