Chapter 1

(Here it is... the first chapter of Atrius' story. Enjoy, and sorry for the length.)

He awoke lying face down on the cold steel floor, not sure exactly where he was. It took nearly ten minutes for him to gain control of his senses, and rise to his hands and knees. Another ten minutes passed before he could see straight, his one eye trying to adjust to the dark he found himself in. His clothes were soaked in what appeared to be vomit, probably not all his, and blood. He tried to stand up, but a wave of nausea brought him quickly to his knees, and he wretched his guts out until nothing but bile dripped from his burning lips.

He sat there, looking at the floor for nearly an hour, not entirely sure that the nausea had gone. He glanced around the room, trying to remember how, and why, he was there. The room was rather small, just large enough for a small slab of steel with what appeared to be a horrible imitation of a mattress laying on top, a dirty sink with a cracked mirror, and a very used toilet, the kind you’d expect to see in a cell of some sort, which is what he determined this must be. He momentarily thought about looking in the mirror, getting a good look at himself, but the thought of throwing up again quickly changed his mind. Instead, he slowly crawled to the crude bed. It took him fifteen minutes to drag his upper body onto the steel slab. His body completely drained of energy, he could not go any further, and he fell asleep.

The sound of a closing door jostled him from his sleep. He didn’t know what time it was, or how long he had slept, but he felt much better than yesterday. At least he thought it was yesterday. His eye adjusted much faster to the dark this time, a good sign, and he noticed a small tray near the door, with some nutrient sticks and a cup of water on it. He sat up gingerly, hoping that the nausea had also gone, and much to his relief it had. He started to stand up but thought better of it, so he slid off the bed and crawled to the tray. The nutrient sticks were standard issue on Conar ships, and while they contained all the necessary vitamins and nutrients, they tasted like Klisk droppings. Not that he had ever tasted Klisk droppings, but the Conara soldiers all seemed to think the description was rather accurate. But he was used to the sticks, and realizing how hungry he really was, he quickly devoured them.

The sticks did wonders for him, and within a half-hour, he found he could get to his feet without too much trouble. After adjusting to being on his feet, it felt like he hadn’t walked for nearly a month, he shuffled over to the mirror to finally get a good look at things. His head was shaven, and on the top of his head was a fresh tattoo of what appeared to be a bar code with the seal of the Conara Fleet next to it. His face was a mass of bruises and scars, a deep black patch around his eye. He stepped back to get a good look at the rest of his body. His chest was wrapped in a surgical field bandage stained with blood and vomit. He gingerly moved his arms in a round-about motion and from the sharp pain in his side determined that he had a couple of broken ribs. He had definitely looked better.

The door quietly slid open, its gentle motors whirring in almost near silence. He looked in the mirror over his shoulder to see the silhouette of a large Conar standing in the doorway. The Conar looked him over for nearly a minute and then tossed him a bundle of clean clothes. “Atrius Preim, you’re coming with me.”

“What is HE doing here?” Captain Aaleg demanded to no one in particular. Not that any of the crew on the bridge would answer, even if they did know why Grand Admiral Sentano was on their ship. Aaleg strode over to the security officer, “Where is he now?”
“He is on the bridge, Captain.”
Aaleg turned slowly to see the Admiral standing in the open door. Captain Aaleg was considered a large Conar, standing close to nine feet tall. He had used his size many times to improve his rank and standing, intimidating any who got in his way, and destroying those who wouldn’t get out of it. But any thought he had of intimidating the Admiral went quickly out the airlock. Sentano stood a good 13 feet tall, and was easily the largest Conar Aaleg had ever seen. He understood why the Admiral seemed to have few enemies.

“Grand Admiral Sentano Sir, we are honored to have you on board. I hope…”
“Captain Aaleg, You have ten minutes to assemble all members of the Preim project in docking bay 8. Don’t keep me waiting.” And without another word the Admiral turned and strode out of the bridge. The Captain quickly pulled his first mate aside, “Greel, get the Preims in the docking bay”
“What about the grunt?” Greel hissed.
“Clean him up as fast as you can, and maybe by the luck of Osidus we’ll live through this.”
Greel watched Aaleg hurry down the corridor. “I doubt it.” He mumbled to himself, and then ran back toward the bridge.


Dannis was sitting on the floor of his room, next to his brother’s bunk. Atrius had been in the brig for a week now, and Dannis was getting worried. Not that Atrius didn’t deserve it. Dannis had told him repeatedly that the Conar were just baiting him, hoping he would give them any semblance of a reason to use excessive force, and Atrius never seemed to disappoint them, and that was making it harder for the rest of the Preims.

The door hissed open and the first mate stepped into the room. “Get on your feet Preim, you’ve got a visitor.” Dannis climbed off the floor, “What do you mean I have a visitor?” Greel didn’t seem to pay any attention to him.
“You have 5 minutes to get the rest of your… group”, Greel’s sarcasm was palpable, “up to docking bay 8. Your visitor doesn’t want to be kept waiting, so I would suggest you hurry.”
“What about Atrius?” Dannis asked as he followed Greel into the corridor.
“Oh, he’ll be there.”
“Is he okay?”
“Only if we’re lucky” Greel muttered to himself as he hurried off to the docking bay.

Dannis went back to his room, quickly got his uniform on and then thumbed on his com unit.
“Xar, Shyla, Garrick, meet in docking bay 8 in 5 minutes. Battle dress.” He looked in the mirror, made sure his uniform looked good, and then headed out the door towards the docking bays.
“What’s this all about?” Dannis turned to see Xar and Shyla coming down the corridor.
“Greel said we had a visitor. Wanted to see all the Preims.”
“Will Atrius be there?” Shyla asked. “I haven’t seen him for at least a week.”
“Greel said he’d be there, but I don’t know what condition he’ll be in.”
“He should be dead” Xar added, “Aaleg really went berserk. I’ve never seen him that mad.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a good thing Atrius is half Gargonan” said Dannis.
“He has always been hard headed” added Shyla. “Maybe Aaleg finally knocked some sense into him this time.”
“We thought that he knocked some sense into him last time” Xar added dryly. They all chuckled as they entered the trans-lift to the docking level.


Atrius had never seen this Conar before, and this intrigued him. Aaleg’s ship had a crew of 50, not including the Preims, and Atrius had met all the crew at least once, so finding someone new on board was quite a surprise.
“So… where exactly are we going?” He asked. The Conar seemed not to notice him and kept walking briskly down the corridor.
“Oh, looks like I’ve found me a talker” Atrius mumbled to himself. Before he realized what was happening, the Conar turned, grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the wall, holding him a good two feet off the ground. Atrius grabbed on to the large arm, trying to take some of the pressure off of his larynx.
“Listen rat, YOU have not found anything. So I suggest you keep your mouth shut.”
”Well…” gasped Atrius “I think I see your point.” Without another word the Conar let go of Atrius, turned sharply and continued on his way. Atrius stepped in behind him, rubbing his sore neck


Sentano looked over the files of all the members of the Preim Project. They were a diverse group, especially seeing as that they were all half-breeds. The Grand Council had diverse opinions concerning the Preims and their worth to the Conar. Some of the Admirals, like Faye, thought that they were vital assets to the fleet. Others, like Hooblabah felt they were… well… half-breeds and not worth the fleet’s time or efforts. Sentano was somewhere in the middle. He didn’t really care about them either way. That was why the Council had sent him. He didn’t have to come personally, he could have sent any one on his staff, and he was planning on doing just that, but then at the last moment, something about the group intrigued him.

He flipped back through the files. The Preims were all born and raised in a test facility ran by Admiral Faye. They were addressed by their ID numbers until they were roughly 5 years old, in which they were allowed to choose their name. Most of the members kept Preim as their surname, in reference to the name of the project they were part of. It was all rather dull, Sentano thought. He could care less about how a soldier came into the world. Just as long as he was a soldier. He came across the personal files of each member and studied them individually.

Dannis Preim was the defacto leader of the group. He was mix of Conar and Nareskan, which combination allowed him to be extremely adept at hand to hand combat. He was, for the most part, Conar, and from his looks you could not tell any different, save for he was only 6’10” tall, but that wasn’t too out of the ordinary. “Perhaps that’s why he is the leader” Sentano thought. “He looks the most normal out of the group.”

Atrius Preim was the next file. He was a mix of Gargonan and Cylonquin. “I feel sorry for this one” Sentano muttered to himself. “Being part Gargonan has to earn him a lot of points.” The Conar and Gargonan were bitter enemies, had been for millennia, and if Aaleg’s crew was anything like the rest of the Conar fleet, they would not like him at all. Sentano looked at the picture attached to the file. Atrius was roughly 6 feet tall, had pale yellowish skin, long dark hair and one large green eye. “At least he’s not green” Sentano thought. Atrius had a long list of “disciplinary actions” attached to his file. This didn’t surprise Sentano, but what did surprise him was not the amount of abuse he had taken, but how well he seemed to recover from it. Apparently the one part about him that made the Conar hate him was also the one reason he was still alive. That was very interesting indeed.

Xar Preim. Half Conar and Macaneon. Very interesting mix. The Macaneons were a small, lizard like species with 4 arms, of which Xar was blessed with. Other than the 4 arms, he looked surprisingly Conar, even staying relatively tall at 7’6”. He was another one that the crew seemed to get along with, and it stated that he spent a lot of time with Shyla Preim, and that could be why the crew liked him.

Sentano turned to look at Shyla’s records to see what the statement in Xar’s file meant. He saw the picture and immediately understood. She was a very attractive Conar female, which was a rarity, especially in the Conar fleet. Shyla was half Conar and Half Cylonquin. She looked mostly Conar, but had the smooth elfish qualities associated with the Cylonquins. Standing at 6”8”, she was rather short, but Sentano could see how the crew could overlook that fact. It was noted that she was involved with Xar. “Ah, and now we see why they like him too” Sentano added with a chuckle.

The last member of the group was the oddest of them all. Garrick Psycke was half Nareskan, half Human. He was good with computers but not a great asset at hand to hand combat, especially against larger opponents, like a Conar. He was the most independent and aloof of the group, not keeping the Preim surname when he chose his name. Interestingly enough, there was not much else about him in the file. Sentano thought that was rather odd and would have to inquire about that with the good captain Aaleg.

A shuffle at the door brought Sentano out of his contemplation. He looked up to see one of his guards enter the bay followed by whom he assumed to be Atrius. He was in bad shape. The guard led him over to the Admiral.
“Sir, I have brought you Atrius Preim as you requested.”
“Excellent. You may return to your station”. The guard quickly turned and headed back on board Sentano’s shuttle. Sentano stared down at Atrius, who came roughly to his waist.
“So you are the infamous Atrius Preim. I cannot say it is an honor to meet you.”
“Well, give it time. I find most people are honored by my presence” replied Atrius dryly.
Sentano looked at him thoughtfully before answering.
“You have no fear, I’ll give you that, but your attempt at humor is somewhat lacking”.
Atrius stood looking at the massive Conar, wondering what he could want and more importantly, who he was.
“You seem to know me, but I’m afraid I don’t know you.”
“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough. Now, if you would kindly wait for the rest of your group, we can get down to business.” Atrius knew that the Conar was commanding him to stand at attention and get out of his way. Atrius did as he told, and found it quite interesting. If Aaleg would have given him that command, there would have been no way that he would have obeyed. Mostly out of principle. But there was something about this Conar that was different than any Conar he had ever met. For some reason Atrius respected him. Even felt willing to follow orders from him.
“Come on now Preim” Atrius said to himself “Don’t get soft on me know.” And with that he did something that Atrius Preim had not done for a very long time. He followed an order.

When the rest of the Preims arrived, the admiral dismissed Aaleg and his officers, who were more than happy to get as far away from the admiral as possible. When the group was alone, Sentano turned quickly to the group.

“I am Grand Admiral Sentano. You are now under my… supervision. We will be leaving the ship in 15 minutes, I suggest you retrieve your necessary items and meet back here as quickly as possible. The shuttle will not wait. So either you make it, or you can try Captain Aaleg’s hospitality. You are dismissed.”

Atrius watched the other Preims run out of the bay. He had nothing on board that he wanted to keep, and a few things that he wanted to forget. He quietly walked over to the Admiral’s ship, walked passed the guards, and went up the ramp.



Aaleg quietly watched the Admiral’s shuttle leave the docking bay. He said nothing to the bridge officers who reported on the ship’s systems, or paid any attention to the various statements of readiness being shouted out by the communications officer. When Sentano’s shuttle joined up with his fleet, Aaleg walked quietly into his quarters, and watched the fleet make its jump into hyperspace. He stared at the view screen for a moment, as if to make some silent decision, then with a nod of his head, he walked over to his personal computer, entered in his security password, and punched up a secure channel to the space station he was orbiting around. A communications officer appeared on the screen.
“This is Captain Aaleg, of the Golden Fang, I request a secure transcom link.”
“Yes sir.” Stated the comm officer. “What is the link’s destination?”
Aaleg reeled off the information by heart, “Alpha Quadrant, 45892 Delta, Call Sign ‘Clean Slate’”.
“The link will be active pending identity verification. Please transmit your security package now.” Aaleg entered in the necessary information and sent his electronic identification papers to the station. The comm officer verified his identity, entered in some information in his computer, and then turned to the captain, “Verification complete, transferring the signal to you now.” Aaleg watched the screen flicker black, and then the communications officer was replaced by a surly looking conar.
“You’re Excellency,” Aaleg said with a firm salute. “I am reporting as ordered concerning the package that was left in my care.”
“Has he picked them up?” Asked the conar.
“His fleet has just left the system.” Aeleg answered.
“Very good. You have your orders. Keep me informed.”
“Yes your Excellency.” Aaleg saluted the conar, closed the transcom link, and quickly went back to the bridge. He quickly strode in and sat in his command chair. “Helmsman, bring us to the far end of the system, prepare all systems for hyperspace.” As the bridge sprang into action, Greel walked quietly over to the Captain. “What are our orders?” he asked.
“We are to proceed as we discussed.”
“Shall I plot our destination, then?” asked Greel. Aaleg thought for a moment, and then silently nodded. Greel immediately walked over to the Navigation officer. “Set us a course for…” his voiced trailed off as he searched through various star charts and galaxies. “Set a course… here.” The Navigation officer looked at their destination, started entering the coordinates and necessary information, all the while wondering what Aaleg needed on a little backwater planet called “Earth”.