[CO] Rhys Llywarch posted Mon at 4:07
The action had come quick he thought as he fell. The Assassin had been tossed away, It had only been half a second at most at most between the Assassin's roar and the enemy being flung across the room. But the Assassin had succeeded in getting his mark. The pain and heat of an energy weapon had found him in the pitch black of the room. Time seemed to slow down as he fell backwards against the wall. He could hear the shouts and screams of the Officers stuck in the room with him. It seemed muffled somehow as if he was hearing them thru a thin wall. He fell backwards with a crash driving what little air remained out of his lungs. He gasped as he came to rest. He could see a flurry of movement but could not focus on anything clearly. The Voth Assassin was almost on top of him again moving with an Inhuman speed. He raised his hand out of instinct, his brain did not seem to be processing the situation right. He was more interested in the crimson blood covering his white gloves then the attack. He was not focused on the blood in a morbid thats my blood way. He could not draw himself away from the wonderful rich colour it was. It was beautiful in a way he thought as the corners of his vision darkened. The snap fire of Phasers could hardly be heard over the loud drum beat of his heart. He could feel an intense wait for a moment as the Assassin falls on top of him. It lasts but a moment between the beat of his heart before someone pulls it off. He can smell the scent of cooked meat, he does not know if it is him or the man sent to kill him.
He can see his officers...No..his lads rushing toward them. He finds himself focusing on odd details about them he had never noticed. Admiral Nightmoon does not have white hair but each strand is a radiant silver colour. Commander Connolly's MACO under armour is not strapped properly under the right armpit. Lieutenant Commander M'arr's rank pip is just ever so crooked. It annoys him. He doesn't know why, there are more pressing matters. He feels extremely tired as he lays against the wall, the beat of his heart slowing. Is this how he goes he wonders.He had been shot or hurt before but it had never felt like this. So slow, so helpless. He wonders how he would be remembered. As one of the few officers allowed to go on a Five year exploratory mission during the height of the Klingon War. As the officer responsible for unleashing the power of an iconian gateway upon a Klingon Armada committing a genocide to save his fleet. Starfleet had become his life after the woman he loved left him, it is in many ways all he had he thought. But his thoughts turned toward home. He could see someone, he could not tell who hunched over him. A wrack of pain jolts thru his haze for a moment. He lashes out not wanting to be touched. The pain quickly ebbs away as he returns to his stupor. The beat of his heart slowing further.
Image of the Voth Assassin captured after the Computer was freed
He could smell the grass. The clean smell of cut grass. His father or brother must have just mowed. His mother, what would she say when someone gave her the letter. He hoped someone gave it a more personal touch then the ones he had to write days earlier. He knew his parents worried to death about him all the time. In his 40's and yet still just as worried as the day he left for San Francisco. He tried to think hard, he was having trouble remembering their kind faces. He could feel a dull thump as someone was hitting his chest. He hoped that is how he would be remembered, as a loving son who spent too much time away. For all the War he had undertaken, for all the men he had sent to their deaths he thought it selfish to be remembered so fondly when he deserved so little.
The final beat echoed thru his ears. He could not see anything. It was blackness. He felt totally alone. He had been alone these past seven years since his wife had left him but this was much worst. He tried to fight it, to force life back into his body. He was not ready to leave yet, there was still too much to do. Too much unsaid. His body refused to cooperate and he resigned himself to his fate. His final thought was that of an apology to the Doctor. It was over before it had begun. He felt the soft touch of lips on his cheek as the void swallowed him.
Rhys Llywarch was Dead.
The Admiral on board a Romulan Warship. Lieutenant Commander M'arr working to save his life.