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OMG I didn't know you did this too Darth Daddicus. That's awesome!

So I promised myself I could write a space opera but because I work 10 hour shifts during the week I barely get a chance to write. The upshot being that I'm woefully far behind.

Worse news, I hate, hate hate the first bit I wrote and I'm starting over. Yes I'm already thousands of words behind but if I don't at least like the story I just can't force myself to write.

I'll post a snippet for you to take a look at. Let me know what you think, if you like.


Second Chances

Eyan stepped off the shuttle and looked around the bustling spaceport. People hurried by in colorful clothing. Families reunited in hugs and happy tears. Signs flickered with the latest departures and arrivals, while people were funneled to their destinations through a maze of walkways. Shops were scattered here and there and in one place an exclusive restaurant occupied an upper level where diners ate exotic foods and looked out over the bustling mass of humanity in the concourse below.

At 6’ tall he was tall but not so tall as to stand out too much. Sandy brown hair and golden eyes were likewise not quite average but not so extraordinary as to cause a second look. He pulled the brown hood of his close fitting jacket up to further blend in to the crowds of travelers. He had come from the order’s home world to seek out the Prime and offer his services. It was an unusual move for a Knight of Tabit but not unheard of. Besides, there were things happening in the heart of the order that disturbed him.

Making his way through the crowd purposefully he finally got outside of the spaceport. There he paused to stare at the gleaming tower that rose proudly to the sky kilometers away. Everyone knew it was an alien edifice. Every child was taught in grammar school the history of how their alien benefactors had rescued them from a dying Earth and seeded the galaxy with the descendants of humanity. They also knew that these towers were the artifacts of another alien race, an ancient race lost to the depths of time.

The tower was a curving, sinuous structure that rose like the strands of some impossible sea creature. A central spire surrounded by five staggered spires so that not only did each one curve and spiral upwards but the entire layout of the group was in the shape of a spiral. Delicate, filament like bridges connected the towers at various levels and the entirety of the structure was an opalescent white as if carved from mother of pearl.

He had heard of it, of course. But nothing had prepared him for the reality of it. The thought that humans now inhabited such an alien structure only added to the surrealness of it.

Another person jostled him and instinctively he flexed his forearms causing the daggers sheathed in his sleeve to drop into his hands. Realizing his mistake he quickly resheathed them. Looking around to see if anyone had noticed he castigated himself for the lapse.

A transport advertising courtesy transport to the tower pulled into the que and without hesitation he collected his satchel in which he carried all of his modest possessions and claimed a seat.

The transport, a small, open roofed flitter that stayed at such a low altitude as to be almost a hover, flew to the tower complex over rolling hills and through a small fishing village that sat near the sweeping curve of a sandy beach. The tower rose to the North of the spaceport and on the east a shallow sea spread to the horizon. On the west the hills rolled into foothills and then into steep, sharp mountains. Once they were far enough away from the spaceport, Eyan turned to look back, taking note of the variety of ships setting down and lifting off on their unknown business. Many kilometers to the south a sheer escarpment rose to a vast plateau of volcanic scablands.

Between the little seaside village and the tower complex, nearer the tower, were human structures; power plants, medical complexes and some sprawling homes for those who chose not to accept accommodation in the tower. The transport settled down to a little landing pad just in front of a wide set of shallow stairs that swept up to a wide patio fronting the complex. He stepped out of the flitter and looked up before slowly following the small crowd of people who had also taken the flitter from the spaceport.

Up the shallow stairs and across the patio he made his way to the tower complex proper. He spared barely a glance for the people sitting at tables enjoying coffee. His goal was the main tower, the Prime Tower. He needed to speak to the Prime. The human that the alien benefactors chose based upon a combination of skill, talent and in the case of this Prime, mutant power to be the main liaison between human kind and alien kind as well as the leader of the affiliated human colonies. It wasn’t a job he envied the man.

He strode past the minor towers on his left and right and through the massive doors to the main tower. To his surprise he saw the Prime standing with a group of 5 other people just before a central structure that filled the middle part of the tower all the way up the central atrium to the uppermost floors where the Prime and Tower Rangers lived. He started to make his way over when he was stopped by the chief of security. Bronwyn Alrudra: 7’6” of solid muscle, once a brawler on the professional circuit until Orion Garnetstar recruited him. Bronwyn was big and fierce and he deliberately dressed the part, shaving his scalp save for a single blond scalplock. He had a scar that ran down the side of his face almost from temple to chin and he wore armor festooned with a variety of weapons from blades to energy blasters of varying sizes and power. The man was a walking armory

Bronwyn kept a sharp eye on the new recruits coming in from the spaceport. Orion was on hand to greet them and it always made the big security officer a bit edgy when the Prime went out to meet new visitors to the tower. He spotted the tell tale uniform of a Knight of Tabit . He studied the man for the space of a few steps noting the graceful catlike qualities of a trained assassin and stepped between the man and the Prime. “State your business,” he rumbled, crossing his massive arms over his armored chest. After a brief, insulting pause he added, “Knight.”

Eyan looked up at the man scowling down at him. He kept his expression neutral, holding his hands out from his sides to show he had no guns. His daggers stayed sheathed--for now. “I seek to speak to the Prime.”

Bronwyn snorted, “Now why would a trained Knight Assassin of the Order of Tabit need to speak to my Prime?”

Eyan suppressed an irritated grimace, “The Priestesses of Mirach have sensed a branching in the river of time and,” he hesitated ever so briefly, “your Prime will play a pivotal role.”

Despite his cynicism, Bronwyn’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “The Priestesses of Mirach?”

Eyan nodded.

Bronwyn thought it over for a minute. Keeping one eye on the Knight he turned and called over his shoulder, “Yo! O! Got a Knight of Tabit here. Says he needs to talk to you.”