From Chapter One of In Memory Alone
Captain! Charles York fought his way to the quarterdeck of the Honors Moon, fiercely pushing crewmembers out of his way (with no concern for politeness). Captain Talon, the second officers face was covered with black soot and cannon grease, a cut above his right eye left a steady stream of blood racing down his face. Sir, I beg your pardon Captain.
Mister York, you are injured, Jeremiah pulled his handkerchief out of his vest pocket and handed it to the young officer.
Mister Harts compliments, sir. He reports we have taken heavy damage on the port side, his voice was filled with dismay and disbelief of their situation as he held the white cloth firmly on his forehead. We are taking on waterI fear the worse.
Jeremiah looked out over the deck at his crew. They were like ants whose hill was kicked over by a child; they scurried from one side to the other shouting commands to one another. Jeremiah was silent; he held his right hand up to his black beard and pulled lightly on it. Standby to repel boarders Mister York, was all Jeremiah said.
Charles gave no verbal response but ran, almost sliding down the ladder toward the center of the ship, and began shouting: Arm yourselves, standby for boarders.
Lad, Jeremiah called to midshipmen Hall. Go down below and help with repairs, he knew the young boy would be better off. I want Mister Hart to send all able-bodied men up here to repel the boarders.
Hall said nothing, as he turned and exited the quarterdeck, not looking back at his captain.
Pulling out his looking glass from his blue coat pocket, Jeremiah held it to his right eye and peered out over the calm waters of the Bay of Biscay, two hundred and seventeen miles off the coast of France. He swallowed hard.
End simulation.
What did you think of that?
I saw nothing there, a cold sharp voice replied. Nothing that made me believe this subject is worth studying. The image of Jeremiah Talon faded from an eighteen by eighteen foot screen as Darc Corrian watched it turn to white.
You dont see the stern pressure to win the battle in the aliens face and readiness to defend? the long ridged neck of Sovereign Hapic stretched high as the eyes on his pointed head looked at the commander with a bit of disappointment.
I must not be looking at what you are witnessing, all I see is a battle, reminding the Sovereign that the alien was of a primitive race, from an even more primitive world. I do not understand how this backward being is going to teach us anything about anything, why is this creature so important?
Hapic cocked his head, this is a battle driven by a man who has a reason to live, yet decides to risk his very life for battle. Hapic sighed and motioned Corrian to follow him out of the observation complex and into a long hall made out of clear shavivian glass.
Standing in firm erect attention along the transparent corridor were the sinister looking vice-shock troops, dressed in black and red defense armor, and armed with staffs of order. Sworn compatriots of Darc Corrian, who are guided by his own commands and sworn to die for him. They even give the Sovereign chills, reminding him of his cold home world, Glashia.
Hapic kept his hands to his side and his lone eye firmly placed to the floor as he and Corrian slowly but steadily walked past the troops. The Sovereign stared at the stars that caught his attention off to the right, endless sparks of light holding in space, hanging there like they were sown on tapestry; a billion gleaming jewels placed ever so carefully as if put there by old women that stitched it into the universe. Hapics mind wondered, his thoughts rethinking the command decision to place a first class law enforcer like Corrian on his ship; this annoyed Hapic. With the attacks from the revolutionary army no longer a threat, Hapic had been surprised that the Citadel had gone into a frenzy of speculation that these rabble may indeed become a deeper threat than they had been before.
You have never pair bonded have you commander? Hapic asked, as they continued to walk.
I have, Corrian exclaimed with a huge chunk of pride leaping of his throat. Twice and I have sired several future warriors for the Hydirian Citadel.
Then you loved your bonders? Hapic asked.
Im afraid I do not care for the tone of your voice. I, like all the men of my race do not love, the titanic commander seemed to choke on his pronunciation of the word. We care for only the preservation for our race, love is a weakness, he paused. I am appalled at your question.
But dont you see? Hapic asked. That is why the alien did not fear, he did not falter, yet he loves and cares for his bonder.
I did not see this, you must be mistaken, Corrian choked out the next word, sir.
I am not mistaken, I know what it is I saw, Hapic said.
I wish to view this again, Corrian turned back toward the chamber, while Sovereign Hapic stood idly by looking at a diagram of the Citadel pride interstellar destroyer, wishing he could go home and put this tour of duty behind him. Hapics duty to the Prime and the Citadel had become nothing more than performing like a trained animal. Only Hapic wasnt an animal, and his conscience thoughts warned him to get out while he could. But
Are you coming? Corrians rough voice barked as he briskly strolled up the hall.
Like an animal, Hapic felt caged.
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