Free Purge of Prometheus by Jon Messenger Page B

Exploding in a colorful burst of plasma and burning fuel cells, both ship and rocket disappeared from the tactical monitor on the helm of the Dormark.
    “Unidentified ship destroyed,” the officer announced with a smile.
    Above the sun, debris and shrapnel from the explosion got caught in the gravitational well of the swollen sun.   Among the torn pieces of hull and destroyed engine casing, a single black canister fell into the sun’s orbit.

CHAPTER 8:
     
               
    Yen awoke with a start as the intercom blared through the confines of his room.   He heard the words echoing through the haze that clouded his mind, and jolts of pain reverberated through his head with every word spoken.   Though he tried to sit up, he found the effort futile and collapsed back into bed, his head hurting worse than ever.   With a slight smile, however, he realized the pain was from the alcohol the night before and not from the invasive psychic powers.   His smile disappeared when the intercom sounded once more.
    “Squadron Commander Xiao,” it blared, causing aches that rolled from his temples into his teeth.   “Your presence is requested immediately in the War Room by Captain Hodge.   Please verify receipt of this request.”
    Yen yawned and brushed the hair out of his face in order to better wipe the sleep from his eyes.   He fumbled, searching for the transponder on his nightstand, but only succeeded in knocking his alarm clock onto the floor.   He heard the crackle of the intercom as he noticed the transponder resting absently on the floor, no doubt still sitting where it was dropped forgotten the night before.
    “Squadron Commander Xiao,” the announcement continued, funneling its request directly into his room.   “Your presence is requested…”
    “I’m awake!” he roared, drowning out the intercom with his own angry yell.   “Can’t you hear me, you asshole?   I’m awake!”   Reaching down, ignoring the lights that burst in front of his vision as he bent over, he grabbed the transponder and activated its signal.
    “I heard you the first three times!” he yelled into the microphone.
    “Many apologies,” the voice replied over the handheld receiver.   “Captain Hodge requests you at the War Room for a strategic conference.”
    “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered to himself before pressing the send button.   “Let her know that I will be there shortly.”
    He tossed the transponder across the room and threw his legs over the side of the bed.   Though he wasn’t sure if he could keep down breakfast this morning, Yen’s belly still growled angrily as bile sloshed from side to side in his empty stomach.   As much as he would have preferred a chance to eat, he was already running late.   He didn’t want to be the reason all the other officers on board had to wait to start the meeting.
    He stripped out of the pajamas that his aides had clothed him in the night before and staggered, naked, to the shower.   His yellow skin stood in stark contrast to the sterilized white tile of the bathroom as he entered.   Turning on the water, he let the jets wash over his body.   The spines on his back rose in response to the pleasure he felt as the hot water cascaded onto his tense shoulders and ran, dripping, from his long dark hair.   Trying his best not to lose track of time while enjoying the shower, he pressed the knob to deactivate the water and grabbed a towel from the peg on the wall.   Yen dried quickly and pulled on his dress uniform; its dark grey fabric signified that he was an officer of the Alliance Fleet while the rich purple piping along the shoulders and sleeves signified him as Squadron Commander.
    Exiting his room, Yen’s boots clicked loudly on the metal floors of the ship as he made his way to the lift.   Stepping inside, he entered his command code and the doors slid shut before him.   He felt a twisting in his stomach that he knew was a sickly combination of hunger and nerves,