I'm not sure how many people managed to catch the first draft of the prologue for my campaign which I posted on the previous website, but I've gone back to it and added a bit more to it, for those who are interested.
More to come, when I get inspired.
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Damn it!
He opened his eyes to the familiar grey walls of his quarters. A soft chime, perfectly pitched at a frequency that his subconscious recognised as a cue to wake. A dark shape on the floor which turns out to be a picture frame, toppled over from its place at the bedside table. He sighed, banged his fist against the wall sensor beside his bed. The chime stopped, the deed being done.
Ok, ok. You're cool. It was just another dream.
"Why, again?" muttered Commander Samuel Bei. His vision blurred: was it the vestiges of sleep still, or tears? "They're dead. They're both dead...that's all there is to it. Dreaming about them won't bring them back."
But they were so real...
Pushing himself to a sitting position in his bunk, Samuel paused to reach for the picture frame. He placed it back onto the table, looking once again upon the hologram it depicted. It was a scene from a time he barely remembered. Himself, in full military uniform. Eriana, looking beautiful by his side. His father, also in uniform, and his mother, who had travelled through three star systems just to be there.
Each time, the dreams were the same. First, his mother, speaking to him. He was a child, seven years old, with dreams of flying his own fightercraft, just like his father did against the Shivans.
"When we go home, Sam, I want you to be with your father. Wouldn't it be nice, Sam? You and your father, together on the same ship. Oh, I would love to see that."
Her wish would be fulfilled. He'd be flying his own fighter, through the nebula mists beyond Gamma Draconis, looking for the Ravana destroyer who had slain the Lysander. Except...he wasn't looking for Shivans, was he? He was really looking for his father.
There it is. His father's ship. It was beautiful, and big. It stretched as far as he could see. Sam's fighter, his father's ship, and the Knossos portal. The universe was complete.
Every time, it was the same. Sometimes it was Eriana who spoke to him, but the message was still the same. The dream would end with him finding the ship, with him gaining a sense of peace he had not known for years. As though his mother and his wife were alive again.
Sam had taken his dreams seriously all through his life. His mother, a psychologist specialised in studying subconscious and psychic emissions, believed that Sam's dreams were strong indications of future events. Sam had long believed he had a destiny to fulfill, suggested by the startling accuracy in which his dreams would predict his path in life.
All of Sam's dreams, however, did not warn him of the death of Eriana and his mother. When the order for Capella to be evacuated was given out, Sam's wing was responsible for escorting the transport carrying both his wife and mother out of the system. At the Vega node, they were ambushed by a full Shivan assault. The transport died within seconds. Sam's wingmates were to die shortly after. Fate had been both kind and cruel enough to spare only Sam, of over fifty people who died in the attack.
Sam's father had been in command of the GTCv Arifiel at the time, overseeing the initial stages of the evacuation. Instead of embracing the only family he had left, he blamed Sam for failing to keep them alive. Thus began the rift between them, one that continued until this day.
Should he listen to the messages contained in the dreams? Searching for his father's ship, finding peace at the end? Maybe it was past time to move beyond the antagonism of his father, if he was ready to take back his son.
"I've decided, Yusof. I came to the decision this morning." Sam's quiet words filtered over the comms headpiece into the ears of his wingmate. The chuckled response indicated the pilot's mood but gave little indication as to his thoughts.
"You're leaving us, Sam? After all this time as squadron leader? You'll never get a better posting than the Orseis, you know that."
"I know, I know. I've never had a better time than running you kids through flight training. It's something I've got to do, Yus. I've got some scars that run deep, and they need healing. After the Shivan Incursion-"
"Yes, sir. I understand. Many of us left so many people behind in Capella."
"Yes. I'm just one more life ruined by a war, a fallen hero destined for the void. I once had a joy that shone, Yusof, but all I can see now is shadows and dust. I'm going to give notice of my application for transfer to the Admiral, but I thought you should be the first one to know."
"Well, you've given me something to think about during this patrol at least, Samuel Bei." Yusof paused for a moment in thought. "Where are you headed?"
"The Orestes."
"No way, Sam. The Raynor? The newest, most bad-ass ship the GTVA could roll out of the factory line? They've got that ship leading the Sol Expeditionary Force! The waiting list is in the thousands. How the hell do you expect to land such a plum assignment?"
"Command has assigned the admiral who is to lead the battlegroup. His name is Bei Wen Jian."
"I'll be damned, sir. Admiral Bei. Your father." Yusof's curse was muttered too low to transmit clearly over the link. "If it was any other person in charge, I'd say you wouldn't have a shot. But what's the deal? I thought you weren't on great terms with your father."
"That was a long time ago. I'm hoping that the passage of time has shallowed the rift some, and that he'll be ready for forgiveness." Sam glanced at the photograph of Eriana affixed to his cockpit canopy, and ran the back of his fingers along the smiling face. "I don't know why it's so important, but it's something that needs to be done. He's the only family I've got left."
"I'm not saying you shouldn't, Bei." Yusof accelerated his Perseus, steering it up and around to take position above Sam's own and flipping it so that the two cockpits were in proximity. Sam looked up to see his friend looking down at him. "I'm serious. Go for it. We'll miss you, but hey...the best commander we've ever had is going to Earth. Earth! That's a chance that a lot of us aren't going to get for a long time."
But why did he come to the decision now, after so long? Why had the dreams taken on a kind of urgency and frequency in recent weeks?
Sam was familiar with the shape of the Orestes, but it was not the same ship in his dreams. Several times Sam had to quickly sketch out the shape upon waking before the memory would fade. Each time he did so, he did not recognise what he had drawn. A long, long vessel, thin and waifish, with a rotating ring around one end. The ship varied as well. On some occasions it was a streamlined teardrop with tentacles sprouting from the back. The ship spoke to him as well, but not with his father's voice. This had confused him further. He knew his father's ship was a symbol, but for what?
