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Tristan Xenatos


Tristan entered the bridge with an odd sinking feeling inside him. As he walked to Science, he noticed the almost physical buzz in the air. The bridge had more personnel then usual, no doubt in preparation for the upcoming battle.


As he came to rest at one of the secondary Science consoles, his eyes fell to the Commander. He was sitting in the Commander Chair, speaking to officers and looking over padds, making all the preparations for the action he was about to commence. Tristan brought up a small 3D holographic display on which he could view and monitor the entire fleet. He watched as small pinpricks of blue light moved across the display, each one representing a different vessel.


As he watched the display, he moved his hands over the console, bringing up more detailed images of various ships on the monitors in front of him. Sabers, Defiants, Steamrunners…the list went on and on. As he viewed a Saber dancing in and out of formation with it’s larger sisters, it happened. Suddenly they were within range, small red lights began to wink to life on his display. Few at first, they soon grew to numbers to great to count…the Al-Ucardian fleet. As he began to bring up some of these vessels on the more detailed screens, via long-range sensors, Tristan began to feel his throat tighten up.


Corizon made the attempt at diplomacy, an attempt all of Tristan’s experience in politics told him would fail. And fail it did, as the Al-Ucard flatly refused to negotiate and Commander Ah-Windu Corizon gave the command. The command to strike.


The pinpricks of light surged towards each other and within moments were intermixed. Tristan knew that the order Corizon gave was necessary, but it was hard to remember that as he watched the two fleets open hell-fire on each other. He watched on the monitors as various classes and sizes of vessels fired on and covered each other.


The ship began to shake as the Excalibur joined the battle and Tristan was thrown to the deck plating. As he pulled himself back up, lights began to wink out on the display. The realization of what that meant hit as he watched a Centaur class cruiser explode into dust on one of the small monitors.


He reported some minor details and proceeded to assist Itzhak with the shielding, which was failing all around the ship. “I am losing the aft lateral sensors.”


“Compensating.” Itzhak said. Tristan was not sure how, but the Commander restored shielding to the rear of the ship.


Tristan glanced down at one of the monitors, he watched as the Reliant danced and wove between larger vessels. As he viewed this battle unfold, his mind began to float to issues he had tried to suppress for the time being. As he watched more and more vessels exploding, he could not help but wonder how long it would be until Elasia came to this.


As he closed his eyes, he could see the vessels of his homeworld embroiled in battle. Akan class cruisers exploding over the swirling marble surface of Elasia... Soltok battlecruisers raining down on anything that dare oppose them…


His eyes flew open, unable to bear the images now plaguing his mind, and as he did the Excalibur took another hit. He opened his eyes just in time to see the white-hot flash of the console in front of him exploding in front of him.


The next thing Tristan knew he was on the deck again, only this time he was unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to think… The pain was immense….blinding.


“Tristan, are you ok?” Came a voice which the small part of his mind still working told him was Itzhak.


He was unable to reply, and the next thing he knew he was being pulled towards the turbolift. “OK we’re going.”


“Going where?” Tristan finally mustered the strength to ask.


“Sickbay.” Itzhak replied.


Tristan felt himself being pulled into the Turbolift, finding his ability once again to open his eyes. As he did, they were filled with blue…blue nearly running into him on its way out of the Turbolift. How convenient… Tristan felt his sense of sarcasim returning. Sickbay came to me.

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