Here's my excerpt:
Day 4, Week 1, of Shot’trevn, Terran Year 2428: Romulan Capital Building, Ki Baratan
The Senate Chamber was built to center around the Romulan Empire. Literally. A large circle in the middle-reserved for those addressing, or being addressed by, the Senate- was a floor mural depicting the whole Empire, system for system, even including the Romulan Neutral Zone. It was a grandiose room, lavishly decorated with swords (no doubt new, after the destruction of the building and everything inside) made to look ancient, pieces of retired Warbirds, and other odds and ends that somehow made it seem rich. A large sculpture of the Romulan Eagle hung from the center of the ceiling, two over-bright EverGlow orbs in its talons. Some kind of sweet incense hung in the air.
Sunlight streamed through the narrow, rectangular windows-made, no doubt, from transparisteel- and formed spotlights on Eyzuke and T’merrik (who had managed to pull himself together).
“You are Eyzuke Vantrev tr’Tsuklque.” It wasn’t a question. The praetor’s eyes studied him ruthlessly.
Eyzuke bowed to the praetor and emperor, then to the gathered senators. Straightening he said, “O praetorate P’knev, I am indeed Eyzuke Vantrev of,” he paused, reluctant to say it, “House Minor Tsuklque, antecenturion of the Imperial Military.”
Emperor Tomaln’ev nodded sagely, and said, “Tsuklque is a rather small House, yes?”
Eyzuke nodded, “Yes, only thirty members.”
The praetor and emperor exchanged a look, unreadable by Eyzuke, and the senators behind him began muttering. He felt his face turn a dark shade of green. He must of said
something wrong. “But, we are an honorable House, who serves the Empire with pride,” he added hastily, in case it made a difference.
The emperor waved a hand dismissively, “Yes, yes. You are the Grandson of Senator Deknor who was murdered earlier today, correct? Yes, you are. A very…
unfortunate thing.”
Eyzuke glanced at T’merrik who he had felt stiffen. He could sense the torrent of very rude words on the tip of T’merrik’s tongue. Suppressing a sigh of annoyance, he spread out is mind to encompass T’merrik’s, feeling him relax at his master’s familiar touch. Satisfied, he subtly added the senators to his chain of minds, letting their wills and emotions lay under his. It would be valuable to know their thoughts.
“It was indeed unfortunate, but the loss of a member of our House will not impair our ability to serve.”
This seemed to please P’knev and Tomaln’ev. Relief washed over him, but then realized his emotions were flowing through his mental links and manipulating the senators, as they looked very relieved themselves. He hastily closed off his emotions from the others’.
“We have called upon you on a matter of honor,” Tomaln’ev paused to let that take effect, before continuing. “You are well acquainted with the Dominion Terror Act, and its effects on our Empire. You, Eyzuke tr’Tsuklque, have just been promoted to Commander-“ Eyzuke’s eyes lit up at this, and a small amused smile twitched about Tomaln’ev’s mouth, “-and are to re-glorify our great Empire.”
The emperor, praetor, and senators all waited smugly for the question they all knew Eyzuke wanted to ask. They did not have to wait long. “Why me,” he asked, his expression one of someone poorly containing his delight. “Sir,” he added hurriedly.
“You do not know what is expected of you,” Tomaln’ev gave him a quizzical look, but there was a certain sneer about it, “do you?”
Eyzuke shook his head. Uneasy murmurs echoed behind him. The High Senators seated immediately around the praetor and emperor were exchanging incredulous looks. The emotions on the other end of his mental link where whispering and rolling about : disbelief, doubt, shock, anger, and smugness.
Tch, he hated smugness.
P’knev raised his chin and said, “You, Eyzuke Vantrev tr’Tsuklque, have a great destiny.”
Eyzuke lifted an eyebrow. That explanation was vague at best. Luckily, T’merrik asked the question before he had to: “What, sir, is his ‘great destiny’?”.
Tomaln’ev furrowed his brow. “Who, my son, are you?”
T’merrik hunched his shoulders sheepishly. “I,” he said softly, his voice quivering, “am T’merrik, servant of My Lord Eyzuke.”
Snickers weaved their way through the crowd of senators behind them. T’merrik turned green in embarrassment. Eyzuke heard someone mutter in the back, “..without the sense of a
drabbik…”
Knowing there was a snarl very close to escaping T’merrik, he tightened his grip on T’merrik’s mind, forcing down his emotions. T’merrik’s face regained its olive pallor, and he recovered his control.
Tomaln’ev, however, seemed to have found the whole thing rather amusing and smiled and said, “Well, T’merrik, servant of Your Lord Eyzuke, your master’s ‘great destiny’ is something that was prophesied on the day of his birth.”
Eyzuke nodded, “On the day of the Dominion Terror Act.”
Tomaln’ev’s eyes flicked to Eyzuke in acknowledgement, “Yes, some said that was a terrible omen, indeed. However,” his gaze drifted back to T’merrik, then again to Eyzuke, “it is our belief that
you, Eyzuke, Our Prodigal Son, will bring glory back to our wonderful Empire.”
Eyzuke raised an eyebrow. “No disrespect,” he said uncertainly, “but, what am
I going to do? I’m sure you’re aware I’m only sixteen?”
Praetor P’knev chuckled coldly. “Don’t make the mistake in thinking we do this now because you have just come of age.” He paused to look at Eyzuke sternly. “But with every passing day-“ his voice rose in a crescendo, and Eyzuke had the feeling that this meeting was being broadcasted planetwide, “-the Dominion grows stronger.
“We must act soon, or not act at all! Our history is riddled with war, but this will be the war to end all wars! When the lone Romulan Empire defeats the Dominion- of which took the combined powers of almost the whole galaxy to defeat- we shall be long feared and respected as a true Power of the galaxy-a force to be reckoned with! A Power who has rightfully earned its victory and glory in the Universe!” He punctuated this last bit by drawing his Honor Blade and holding it to the skies.
Cheering, the senators did the same. Even the emperor followed suit-though with drastically less enthusiasm, and looking faintly amused by the whole thing.
“Long life to the Romulan Empire!”
“
To the Empire!”
Eyzuke could have sworn he could hear cheers outside. So he had been correct, after all… but, he wasn’t sure it was a good thing.
He pulled on a respectful, honored face as the room settled and turned their attention back to him. He could feel them at the other end of his link: flushed with joy and the fires of war, their cries of triumph still ringing in their ears.
Tomaln’ev smiled dangerously. “You, my son,” he gave an almost inaudible chuckle, “are going to be given three thousand men and women to sort and sift through. You may choose whomever you see fit for the task at hand.” The emperor raised his eyebrows. “But be warned: to choose those unfit could mean the death of you.”
Eyzuke’s hand twitched at his side, a thing that always seemed to happen when he was annoyed. He
still was not being told what he was to do.
“Sir,” he started in the most respectful tone he could muster, “what
exactly am I supposed to do with these men and women?”
A sly smile played on P’knev’s face. “You, O Prodigal Son, are to lead them into the Omarion Nebula.” He paused for effect, then: “You will lay waste to any and every planet you find, but with great care as to make sure you make it to their Homeworld. They may watch
their cities burn,-“ he stood up, certainly playing the part of the patriotic leader, “-
their families die and weep,
their world collapse around them,” he paused once more, fierce delight flushing his face green, “and
they can see how they enjoy it. They can experience
our suffering.”
This time, the cheers were deafening. Chairs fell back as the senators leapt to their feet. Woops and hollers filled the air, singing of blood and victory. Outside, the streets had flooded with people, high with the rush of their bloodlust.
The emperor got carefully to his feet and waited patiently for the senators to regain their peace. Eyzuke and T’merrik stood awkwardly in the middle of the floor, refusing to indulge in the petty highs of exuberance these easily-excited-senators seemed to so quickly succumb to.
Eyzuke had to cut off his link with them entirely to keep his calm and polite expression intact. He folder his hands behind his back and hoped he was the picture of a respectful, intelligent, polite young man.
When the quiet returned (the raging mob outside excluded) the emperor said, pitching his voice so it carried through the room and reverberated back, “You, Eyzuke tr’Tsuklque shall lead the Re-Glory Movement.” A wry smile found a way to Tomaln’ev’s face. “May the winds carry the wings of your birds of war far, Prodigal Son.”
Praetor P’knev raised his eyebrows and lifted his chin. “All… confidential details have been sent to your private computer.” P’knev smiled deviously, “Your soldiers shall await you in the Hall of Voices at 0900 tomorrow.”
All present rose to their feet, if of course, they weren’t already there.
Eyzuke bowed deeply, T’merrik doing the same as he straightened. He gave them a full military salute.
“Long life to the Empire,” rang through the circular Senate Chamber. There was a mischievous twinkle in emperor Tomaln’ev’s eyes as he said: “Meeting adjourned.”
Please keep in mind I have not gone back and edited this yet.
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