So instead of editing the first post i'm going to leave it as the two should contrast alot and give you an idea of how much work i've put into making this better
edit: O ya, i posted the the next two chapters cause A) their done (well thats what i always say) and B) if i don't i'll find something else wrong with them and change something... again (which i have also found out posting doesn't stop me from doing either... but it does slow me down
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TwilightBy: Robert Dufrane
Chapter 1 The reflection in the mirror displayed the weariness of his body after a long day of hard labor that consisted of much work repairing his damaged vessel. Tus was about 5 foot 5 in height, and even though he very fit for his age with a muscular build, he still looked ragged and exhausted. His green Rihannsu blood could no longer keep the passion for vengeance burning brightly in his core, the only thing that had allowed him to do such arduous labor through his exhaustion. In essence, there was a discord between what his body expressed in its weariness with that of the dedication of his heart and mind. He could easily shrug off the cuts and bruises he had received because he was able to block out much of the pain through shear willpower. Still, it was his body that received these wounds and without rest it would not be able to sustain him in his endeavors. As he prepared to clean his cuts and bruises, he poured water from the pitcher on his nightstand into the metallic washbasin. He worked slowly over his face, carefully dabbing at his wounds to clean away the grime of the day’s labor. He winced briefly as he approached a large gash and took extra time to clean the newly sutured cut that started above his right brow and extended down onto his high cheekbones. Privately he thanked the elements for the deep-set eye sockets of his forefathers which had protected his right eye from the blow. He smiled briefly as he looked at his face, pleased with its appearance. It was an outward expression of how he felt for leading his men into such hardships. He felt that even now he had much to do in order to be worthy of his title of Captain of this vessel. He took a long look at his bed and hoped that sleep might come tonight and release him from his woes.
…2 hours later…
It is going to be another restless night he thought to himself. It had become quite an annoyance not being able to find sleep in the comforts of his room. An annoyance that now had become a thorn in his side.
Tomorrow I will ask the Doctor to give me some medication so that I may rest. Of course he knew that it would not be that simple. His restlessness was something that he had brought onto himself through his own actions. It struck him funny, for he was always sure of his abilities… always knew the correct course. Now he couldn’t figure out how he would live with the fact that he had lost so many crew members, some who had served with him for several years, on what was to be a ‘simple mission’. This haunted him, and he knew that even the best sleep medications would not ease or ward off this feeling. He would one day have to face his own demons, his own self-doubts, but not today and certainly not tonight. He had his crew to protect and while he still had the means to do so he would continue until he had succeeded or it brought him death.
He took the time and briefly glanced around his Spartan room. It was no different from any other officer’s quarters on the ship, besides being slightly bigger for a Captain, but he felt a discomfort in his room. The mood and atmosphere had changed so drastically he was unsure if it was his room. The shadows seemed darker, swallowing up the light in their singular grasp. The air was stiller, stagnant and unchanging; like death itself. It was as if something cold had slipped into his home and had taken up permanent residence there and it left him bewildered on how to remove the unwanted presence. The more he thought about this fact the more he felt exhaustion start to grab him. His subconscious mind flashed images of the first day of his mission. He tried to ward them off, exerting as much effort as he could muster from his exhausted mind, but the images kept coming. They forced their way in with such an unrivaled persistence that it felt as thought they were trying to rape his mind.
Looks like something wants to remember, even if I do not… he thought just before exhaustion grabbed him and took claim of his conscious mind.
His mind’s eye opened slowly, revealing to him a familiar figure sitting in his ready room. The figure was of course he, but the experience was a bit… uncomfortable. His ethereal self seemed to be conversing with a gray haired Rihanha of considerable rank. Sub-Admiral D’Amaru he said to himself. He was further immersed into this ethereal world of what had already come to past and as he further delved in he started to become aware of the conversation that was taking place around him.
“Riov Rllamenev, it’s a pleasure to speak with you again,” the Admiral says in an overly enthusiastic voice,”It has been some time since our last conversation.”
He is hiding something, Tus thought.
“Ie Erei’Seidhu, though I am sure the pleasure is all on your part. As for me, we both know there is very little to take pleasure in when you start making calls,” Tus’ Ethereal self said.
I don’t quite remember being so…rude. I really should try to be more careful of who I try to aggravate. He thought as he continued to observe.
“Riov, the Empire must call on your services again,” the Admiral said, seemingly aggravated by the comment that Tus had just made, ”It should be a relatively easy tasking, even for one such as yourself”
Yes, I do think I deserved that, he thought briefly as the conversation pressed forward with both participants unaware of his ghostly presence.
“I’ll be sending you further information over a secure channel. Once it has been received and reviewed you are to ensure that this file is erased according to standard security procedures.”
Of course Tus would never do that. He would erase the original as instructed; he saw no sense in letting someone find it on board his vessel. However, he always stored a copy on his person in a sub-dermal memory implant located in his right forearm. A safety precaution in case someone was to cross him.
“Ie Erei’Seidhu, receiving the file now” his ethereal self replied. He watched as the his ethereal image glanced through the file, confirming the same things he had noticed days earlier on the rather rosy threat assessment. “Erei’Seidhu, should I be expecting any surprises on this mission, or is that something that is classified and far too sensitive for you to be trusted with it,” his ethereal self further inquired, insulting… or at least attempting to insult the Admiral for the second time in this conversation
By the Elements, I’m going to regret this later Tus thought as he was briefly flashed an image of events to follow.
“Dhat Riov, no surprises, this should be a rather uneventful mission,” he replied with slight smile, barely noticeable and one that to a Rihanha would be taken as quite sinister. “That will be all.”
“I live to serve,” he replied, looking disgusted by the knowledge that he was not serving the empire, but some self-centered goal of his superior.
“Erei’Seidhu D’Amaru out” replied the Admiral as the screen winks out. Tus looked away from the screen and to the other him in the room. He watched himself mouth what looked to be a prayer
Elements… Protect us, Tus thought, remembering what he had said.
Abruptly his dream switched from a disconcerting conversation to an intense firefight between two ships that hung like ornaments in the vast emptiness of space. He was forced to watch from a distance as the larger federation vessel raked the shields of his ship with phaser fire, scaring its graceful features. He tried to gasp as he watched his poor ship being pummeled relentlessly and realized, with a start, that something was wrong. To his horror his lungs wouldn’t fill with air as he realized he was floating in space. Fear took hold of him as he tried to escape his situation, frantically looking for an escape. When all seemed lost, his mind moved him from the cold void to a bridge that was in shambles. He took a moment to observe his surroundings though it was useless. It seemed that his mind did not want him to reclaim his wits as explosions erupted around him. Consoles on several wall panels and stations erupted in a shower of sparks and acrid smoke. He tried to move, tried to pull the crewman out of the way of the blast but his mind mocked him… he could not affect changes to this ethereal world. The smoke from the burning consoles mixed with that of the burning flesh. It was heavy and thick, and the smell made him retch. The ship groaned as it bore the onslaught and it confirmed for Tus as to how bad the damage was.
“Report!” he yelled as he attempted to make himself heard over the carnage that was taking place about him.
“Riov, we have sustained major damage to the lateral sensor arrays and to the port nacelle,” replied Sub-Commander N’Embov, his first officer and most trusted friend. His face turned grim as he continued, “We have suffered hull breaches on decks 3 and 4, and hull integrity is down to 60% with shields at 35% and holding”
His facial expressions were right for their situation was dire. Surprised by the enemy, damaged and outgunned it did not seem like there would be much they would be capable of doing to stave off their deaths. The realization was terrifying, but even so, he felt the same thing as he observed this fight – a surprising calm. He saw that even amidst a sea of chaos that he emanated a calm that took hold of those around him and kept them from panicking.
“Bring us about, charge the torpedoes and prepare to cloak,” the Commander barked.
We need time to prepare he said to himself, “Prepare to fire forward phaser batteries when we are 100,000 km off and then launch a pseudo torpedo.”
It was a gamble, and one that needed to work so that they could ensure their survival. Maybe if they had not been surprised and they had been the ones doing the surprising they could have fought off the Federation cruiser in direct confrontation. Now, it would be impossible, they simply were not powerful enough; no matter what the empire’s propaganda said. At this point, it would take cunning and luck to ensure survival.
His ship, a War Eagle class cruiser, wheeled about to quickly close distance with her enemy. Her hull groaned as she accelerated into the turn, threatening to buckle if they pushed it any further. She dived at her prey, coming in at an oblique to the enemy’s starboard-fore shield. When she had reached her mark, she released a barrage of energy that lanced out like blue lightning striking the enemy. Then with her avian grace she pulled away like a eagle coming out of a dive and released her torpedo. The enemy cruiser returned fire, striking at the prominent eagle painted onto the bottom of the war bird.
Everything is in the hands of the Federation Commander… Elements protect us, Tus thought as he continued to watch.
Staring at the view screen he watched as the torpedo floated through space, seemingly taking an eternity to cross the divide that separated it from the target. As it neared its target, it became increasingly apparent to the enemy that it would strike them even as their ship accelerated away. Without warning, the enemy lurched to halt as it attempted to avoid a devastating attack from an R-type torpedo. A small shuttle appeared from the rear of the cruiser, and slowly pulled away. Their phony plasma was guided to the decoy, passing the Federation vessel with a mere kilometer of space. The Federation Commander had taken bait and had given them the opportunity to make their stand.
“Drop a mine and cloak,” His ethereal self barked to his bridge crew, “Take us 200,000 km off of his aft and hold.”
We were lucky, he thought as his ship cloaked.
His mind started to drift, this time feeling calmer and more assured of itself. It moved away from the ship and raced through the vast emptiness of space until it approached a pair of planets locked in an eternal dance around their star. His mind focused on but one of them… ch’Rihan. He briefly basked in the light of the hearth worlds’ sun before his mind delved into the planet, racing ever faster toward the surface. It sped across plains, glided over the rolling hills, and through a small village, his birthplace. It continued onward until he was at his doorstep. In front of his home stood his beautiful wife and his young son… his family and his world. He was reminded of the things dearest to him and to those in his charge.
We must survive, we must get home.