Obsidian Dusk


Staring out into the obsidian abyss, past the dimly lit stars and into the void beyond, the old woman stood, broken and alone. The peaceful serenity of the quiet did little to calm the emotional turbulence she faced. Her hair, silver with age, laid unruly and unkept.

She turned her back to the dark, and sighed, looking back to the burnt remains of a room, the last of the smoke staining every fiber. Sparks popped from the broken display across the room. Blood stained the carpet beneath her feet.

"Admiral, it's time." A soft, disembodied voice drew her attention back to her reality. The Admiral tugged her uniform stright, and made her way to the door.

"Thank you," she croaked, her voice strained from the days events, from the destruction. With a shimmer, a young woman appeared from thin air, semi-transparent and pristine. The old woman starts down a corridor, careful to step over the devastating amount of debris.

"Admiral, the... The survivors have been evacuated, as per your orders. You are the last one aboard." The holographic officer, a young woman clad in blue, followed the Admiral out the door, hands held behind her back and head held high.

The Admiral nods solidly and pauses. She turned, looking at the memorial wall. She sees the names, tracing them with her fingers. Her executive officer, the ensign that saved her life, the dozen others that fell in the line of duty... Her beloved husband.

"It's been a long day without you, my love... I'll tell you all about it when I see you again..." she whipered, wiping her eyes. She collects her self, holding her head high as she continues.

The officer looks at the wall, then continues in respectful silence. As the two continue, her image flickers harshly.

The Admiral pushes a broken door, sliding the warped metal out of the way as she crosses into a small hanger bay. Before her, a battered shuttle sat waiting. With a small smile, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, cellophane wrapped lollipop. "My last one. Just like old times..." She turned to look for the holographic officer, but she was gone. Another victim. Another loss. The Admiral frowned. She unwraped the candy and stuck it in her mouth. Shel climbed aboard the shuttle and sat down behind the controls.

The shuttle sputtered to life and gingerly lifted off the deck. The small craft locked its weapons on the unresponsive hanger door. With a blast of fire, the door erupted outwards, sucking all the loose debris past.

The Admiral pushes the throttle forward, taking one last glance at her vessel, the once mighty carrier. Now just a floating husk amongst a graveyard. She eased the craft out of the breach and into open space.

With a push of a button, the craft jumped to warp.

She finally allowed herself to cry.