Book 1 chapter 9 fragment

Jonathon dropped down to the grassy runway and collapsed with exhaustion. He rolled to lay on his back and stared up at the blue sky, he felt his fears draining out of him as if the ground was a sponge.

Pentlow dropped down next to him and laid on his side looking down the field at the control tower. “It’s good to be home.” He said finally.

Jonathon couldn’t even summon up the energy to nod, he just stared up at the clouds and beamed in much the same way he had as a youth on Rowlatt in happier times.

The engines finally began their cooling cycle and he heard the pilot canopy pop open and slide down the rails. Moments later a familiar pair of flying boots landed in the grass next to him and he stared up at the woman that had saved them. She was silhouetted against the sun giving her a halo. Her eyes were rimmed with moisture, had she been crying?

He got to his feet and put his hands on her shoulders and stared down into her eyes.

“Doolz...” he began.

She wrapped her arms around him and pressed herself against him in a tight embrace.

“I thought I’d lost you.” She said faintly. “I thought you’d gone.”
Jonathon smiled broadly as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Doolz... It’s me. I always come back.”

She pulled away sharply and looked up into his eyes, he could see a mixture of anger and hurt.

“One day you won’t...” She managed to say faintly. “There is so much left unsaid.”

He looked at her cryptically but she just held him close again. What was she trying to say?

“Thanks for coming and getting me out.” He said softly as he stroked her hair. “I knew it would be you.” He rested his nose on the top of her head and took in a deep breath, the soft frangrance of her scent filled his lungs and his heart leapt.

“I couldn’t leave you out there.” Her voice was still soft and strained.

They stood in silence just holding each other in the stillness of the summer afternoon. Jonathon didn’t even see Pentlow get up and walk away.
Claire did. Her eyes rolled up to look at him, she saw the sadness in his eyes as they hovered in a last linger look at her.

“I’m sorry.” She mouthed to him.

He smiled slightly and shook his head. “Don’t worry.” He mouthed back before turning to walk across the field towards Ellert’s craft.

Claire buried her face in Jonathon’s chest and gripped his shoulders. She felt safe here and she knew where he was, one day he would realise this was where he belonged, with her.

Jenkins paced the office in front of Doolan, her eyes staring down at her feet. She had said nothing since Claire had entered. Jenkins stopped by the window and turned to look out across the airfield.

“Let me get this straight. You disobeyed my orders by going out to look for Pentlow and Eldon.”
“Yes sir.”
Jenkins raised her hand to silence Claire. “Don’t interrupt.”
“Sorry-” Claire began but quickly silenced herself.
Jenkins paused for a beat. “You then engaged four N’kell 901’s shooting down three, including saving Ellert’s life.”
“She is not to blame for this sir, she...”
Jenkins whirled around. “I haven’t finished yet!” She shouted slamming her palm on the desk.
Claire nodded and lowered her head in shame.

Jenkins whirled back to the window. “You led the fourth into a trap, landed in a field without top cover or clearance before carrying the two men in a blatant disregard of aeronautics, health and safety and weight distribution as well as their black box recorder and the reconnaissance camera before flying over enemy controlled territory and scraped past enemy patrols! Do you know what I should do to you?”

Claire said nothing; she just kept staring at the floor.

“WELL?” Jenkins barked.

Jonathon waited outside Jenkins' office. He could hear the shouting and Claire's feeble responses. He should be in there with her. After all he was as much to blame. He had tried to cover for her as much as he could during his debriefing but Jenkins had not been interested. SHe kept pursuing the facts. He hoped se would be lenient with Claire.
The door opened and Claire stepped out, her head bowed in defeat. She slumped down in the seat next to him.
"How did it go?" he asked

"They're giving me the Galactic cross." She sighed.

"I heard." He put his arm around her. "What's your punishment?"

She raised her head, a grin spreading across her lips. "No Jonathon, they are giving me the Galactic Cross!"

They jumped to their feet and embraced. He felt so happy for her, his heart sang with pride as he held her in his arms, the sudden familiarity felt strange and oddly uncomfortable and they pulled back.

He looked down into her eyes and smiled. "I'm so proud of you. You deserve this."

"I couldn't have done this without you." She whispered, her voice stolen away.

"Really... Thanks Doolz." He felt warmth wash over him and a large grin began to break out across his face. "Do you mean that?"

"Yeah if you hadn't got yourself shot down I'd never have flown out after you." She laughed.

He jokingly punched her shoulder. "Smart arse!"

Their eyes met and their laughter stopped, he felt a tension building between them as if static electricity was sparking and connecting them drawing them closer. He couldn't understand what he was feeling. This was Claire, his best friend of five years, his confident, his wingman, his soul mate? H thought about what Pentlow had said the other night and it all made sense. He moved towards herand put his hand behind her head, he wanted to kiss her, it felt right and she didn't try to pull away. His mind was screaming questions at him.

"What's going on?!?"

He stared into her blue eyes; they seemed to pulse with a new raw energy that he had not noticed before as they stared back into his. He held her closer to him, feeling her soft and trembling form beneath the rigidity of her uniform.

"Claire I-"

She shook her head gently to silence him and her soft lips parted. "Jonathon... Don't... I need to say something."

He stared silently down at her, his heart pounding against his rib cage. She looked away as if summoning up the courage to say something important, she took a deep breath and brought her gaze back up to meet his.

"Jonathon." She paused again. "I've always l-"
The air raid siren ripped through their moment like shards of glass through silk. Jenkins' office door burst open and the CO ran out pulling on her flight pouches. She paused briefly by them.

"Dracon is under attack we have to get to our fighters, all of us."

They looked at her blankly, slowly drifting back to the reality of life and the war.

"Well? Get to your fighters! Come on!" Jenkins waved them off with an angry gesture.

They split apart and ran down the corridor to the field, adrenaline taking over as thoughts of a fresh combat filled them. Somehow Jonathon felt like there was unfinished business and a missed opportunity as if he and Claire had been snatched from their own world and thrown back into the maelstrom and hell of the war and Zosen.

End of my trilogy

He stood staring into the weapon's main power matrix as white electricity discharged across the reactor's surface, dancing and agitating along the crystal as it glowed gold. The count down was running and he knew as soon as it struck zero it would launch its cargo of death at Temhof.
A smile crossed his face as he thought of the untold destruction, the deaths of millions of N'kell, their government, their beloved Gefuht and their holy land. With one salvo he could shake the N'kell Imperium to its very core and blast it back to oblivion. For Caroline?
He subconsciously touched the necklace in his chest pocket. Would she approve? No! Now was not the time to question his actions, she wasn't here, she wasn't present to tell him right from wrong. It was her death that had started this chain of events, had sparked his hate filled vendetta. He couldn't question it now on the eve of victory.
"Jonathon... This isn't you."
He shook his head to rid her voice from his hand. "You're dead." he said, pain edging his voice, it was his mind playing tricks on him. He checked the count down and then the coolant levels, he feared if the weapon’s core temperature reached critical the whole thing would erupt.
"Yes I am." She persisted. "I'm glad. Glad I didn't see what you have become. Jonathon this isn't you, this isn't what I'd want. Let go of your hate while there is still time."
He rubbed his forehead and looked around the room. It had to be in his mind, there was no one here with him. He turned to face the reactor again and there she was. Caroline in her Captain's uniform, her hair tied back in the tight pony tail she had preferred and an expression of concern and empathy on her face.
"Why are you doing this?"
"For you, I always do everything for you."
She nodded slowly then gave him her penetrating questioning stare. "What makes you think I'd want this?"
He met her gaze. Why was she doing this?
"You would want to be avenged."
"You think wiping out an entire civilisation would make me happy? Would bring me back?"
"No... But they must pay."
"They have paid, but not for what they did to me or even us but to our race. Destroying their culture, their way of life... You would be no better than they are and that isn't you. The man I fell in love with, the man I married was a good man, a man of honour who would not be blinded by hate and rage. I know that he is still in there under your burnt out husk. What would he say now?"
"That..." he paused. Why was he indulging this hallucination? "No! He is gone now; he died the day they took you from me. All that I have left is my anger and Vengeance."
She touched his arm and looked up at him imploringly. "Jonathon." Her voice was soft. "Let it go."
His communicator chimed and Stacey's familiar voice called into the silence. "Jonathon, Captain Sir?"
"Does Stacey know?" Caroline enquired
"Go ahead Stacey I'm here." he tried to ignore Caroline.
"We've cleared the system as you ordered. What should we do? Have you finished sabotaging the device?"
"That’s a no then." Caroline rolled her eyes and turned away. "My God Jonathon, you've not even told your best friend, your rock and confident that you plan to commit genocide?"
"This is not your concern." He snapped "You aren't her, you are a hallucination!"
"Sir? I'm not who?" Stacey's voice sounded confused. "Is everything alright?"
"Tell her!" Caroline turned and clenched her fists at her side.
"All is good Stacey. I've not disabled it yet... I'm going to fire it at Temhof."
"Sir?!?"
"See she thinks is a bad idea, she can't believe you'd do it either." the spectre waved her hand.
"Do you think that is wise Jonathon?"
"They need to pay Stace... They need to pay for what they've done. I'll make them pay."
"Can't you hear yourself? You are a ranting maniac." Caroline narrowed her eyes in disgust.
"I wanted vengeance for Caroline as much as you did but now that time is past and we have an impressive amount of enemy kills and war records that make admirals blush with envy but... Killing a race that..." She paused. "You'd become like them. Remember Zosen?"
"She's right." Caroline agreed. "Isn't that what I just told you?"
"I'm nothing like them! He shouted.
"Jonathon... She wouldn't want this, it is too much. You cannot kill a race in her name."
Tears filled his eyes, he knew they were right. What had he done? What had he become? The blood that he had spilt, military and civilian, the torture, the murder...
"Freya." Another voice appeared in the void of his mind. "You know what you have to do."
He raised his head and wiped his eyes in a sudden bout of clarity and ran over to the controls.

Stacey turned to Ethan and Marcus on the bridge of the >>>>>>
"What are our options? We cannot let him fire the weapon."
"Not many." Ethan shook his head. "We're out of weapons range and it will take to long to close the gap before it fires and if she does it’s too late."
"Sir!" Lieutenant Waight, the sensor chief looked up from his station. "We've a reading. A massive power surge."
Stacey ran to the observation point and looked at the N'kell weapon as it shook before her.
"What are you doing Jonathon?"

Jonathon stood bathed in red warning lights as klaxons sounded. The coolant system hazard lights flashed a priority code but he ignored them and just stared ahead at the crystal as it began to break up under its own power. Fissures rent its surface and the power discharges grew more erratic.
A tear ran down his face. "I'm sorry Caroline." He whispered
She stepped up next to him and put an arm around his shoulders and looked up at him the same way she had on their wedding day and smiled.
"I love you." She whispered. "I always have and always will."
He slid his hand around her waist and rested his head on hers.
"I love you too."

Stacey watched as the giant weapons platform erupted into a great fiery ball with a sigh of relief. The last great N'kell weapon was gone. Then as the shockwave of the explosion rocked the ship she was hit with a sudden sense of loss. Jonathon had died there; he had no chance of escape. The grief hit her in the chest like a soccer punch and she fell back against the observation rail in shock. She was aware of things going on, of crewmen registering damage and trying to right the ship but it was all in slow motion and she could only hear a steady throbbing of red alert klaxons.
"Stacey!" Marcus was running to her side.
She watched as the consuming fire dull and fell back on itself, the wreckage spreading slowly into the crushing black abyss.
"Good bye old friend." She whispered. "I hope, in the end, you found the peace and happiness that had been taken from you."
Marcus grabbed her by the waist and gently pulled her to her feet. "Are you ok?"
"Yeah... I'm ok." she half smiled
"That crazy bugger." Marcus looked at the wreckage. "He did destroy it. I had my doubts for a while, thought he had finally gone over the edge."
"No." Stacey shook her head sagely. "He would never have fired it. She wouldn't have let him."
"Who?"
Stacey had that knowing smile as she looked at Jonathon's final resting place. “Caroline... You did good chuck. I'll catch you guys later." She gave a small wave and turned to look at Marcus, she saw the same youth and ambitious drive that she had seen in their eyes, had had in her eyes all those years ago on Zosen. She embraced him and held him tight, she too had found happiness and could now allow herself to enjoy what she had. "Much later." She whispered.

Haiku

My racing heart pounds,
My pulse screaming through my veins,
My mind filled with images of you,
A sense of loss, love turned back
To whence it came.

Her smile

In the darkness of the world.
There is but one shining light,
An aspect so bright and pure,
Worth more to me than silver,

Your smile brightens up a room,
Bringing me in from the shadow,
it is all that I quest for,
The shining light in the dark.

Of all the things I cling to,
To all that makes me human,
Just a quick flash of your smile,
Is what I hold most dearest.

writing and stuff.

For the past two years I have been trying to write a serious sci-fi style novel that is an epic coming of age story that follows four former students and their growth from wide eyed inexpierinced people into adults who have seen the horrors of war and how they respond. The first one is the eye openner full of street fighting, genocide and aerial warfare.
The second is mainly a love story set against the backdrop of the genocidal war against humanity as two of the characters try to balance their feelings for each other, the fighting, their careers and life in the modern age ultimatly finding each other in the darkness.
The third is a lot darker with revenge being the central theme and leads the last two surviving characters down a dark path that puts everything they stand for in the shadows and they become the very thing they have been fighting against and only the past can redeem them.

It sounds ok... problem is I'm don't think I'm competent enough to write it... I keep concentrating on the love story in book 2 and writing odds and sods but not being disciplined enough to sit down and write it from start to finish and properly develope the characters.

In a way they are all voices from the inside of my head, or parts of my psyche. Jonathon is the brash mouthy student know all that I used to be who becomes ground down by it all, Doolan is the voice of reason that tries to stop Jonathon getting into trouble all the time and tries to balance him, Charlotte is the idealist who finds that all she imagined life to be is not and Stace is the one who worked hard and found herself thrust into this world but sees people getting promoted above her. At times different ones sound louder and I find it easier to write their scenes but the love story between Jonathon and Charlotte comes as a sorta semi-autobiographical interplay between me and 'lotte as a base line but massivly blown out of context.
Although I often think that I over do the dialogue and wonder "Do people really talk like that."

I need to sit down seriously and concentrate on writing one at a time, maybe jotting notes down for the second and third but not writing huge chunks. I'm on leave for a week soon, maybe I should just grab the laptop and go nuts, write up my half written notes and try and develope the characters into their own living people rather than extensions of my own crumbling mind. They do stand alone quite well but they just need a touch more. The odd unrequited story between Doolan and Jonathon then seems to mirror itself with Jonathon and Charlotte in book two in a way. Differences need to be made etc

The other thing is it is a serious story and the world I inhabbit now a days does swerve towards the surreal sometimes and I want to write something that is just silly... Something I would find hilarious but ultimatly would anyone else? guess you've got to just give it a shot lol

For samples and further information.... You can ask me and I may send some out lol

The strange world of the bemused

Greetings,

I'm finding my life getting more and more surreal and I think I am losing my grasp on reality with each passing day...

Thusly I thought it was probably time to commence recording my decline into giggling insanity for posterity and also for my sister the psychology lecturer so that she can write an awesome PHD.

I seem to have picked up a verbal dyslexia that leads me to put the wrong words into sentences such as yesterday instead of saying "Mushroom pickers" coming out with the surreal "Mushroom miners." Or todays high light "Pineapple workers." Which leads to a whole discussion about Pineapples working for the state at night...

My wife tells me it's a problem... alot of others that it is funny. I - as always am indecissive on the issue.

I seem to get away with it at work most of the time, in a social context but with certain people I must be very VERY careful.

Take for example "Lotte".;.. I spend a lot of time talking to "Lotte" about many things when I can, although it invariably leads back to work, but occasionally... just occaisionally I will put my foot royally in it and spend the next day or so back tracking. Once she took the wrong end of the proffered stick and in audiably spat venom in my direction and fled... three minutes later I worked out why she was angry and fled after her. About 10 minutes later that particular crease was ironed out.

I think it kind of helps with creativity and I write alot of the more surreal ideas down for posterity and although I am trying to write a serious novel I think that maybe I should just given and write a surrealist sci-fi where the characters take a walk through this odd surreal land scape that I my mind is forming...

Anyway work is calling again... In my next session I may talk further about the odd breakdown that is slowly evolving in my mind... as Bernard of black books would say... "I can feel it falling away like pieces of wet cake."