Chapter 31: No Longer Held Back

For the second time in two days, Sara woke to the sound of running water. Instead of rolling over and going back to sleep, when the water shut off she yawned, stretched, and got out of bed. The bathroom door opened, and Darren walked out in a towel. “Done. The shower’s all yours.”

Sara pushed him back into the bathroom. “You’re not done.” Darren grinned. “It’s a waste of good water.” Sara closed the door. “Then we’d better make sure nothing’s wasted. Complaints?” Darren stepped back and raised his hands in complacent denial. “None here. In fact, if you remember, I believe I was the one who suggested it in the first place…”

Sara nodded. “I remember. Although I don’t remember much after that except an ‘I do’ or two and something about a honeymoon…” She shrugged. “I don’t suppose you have anything to help me remember? It would certainly be appreciated…”

Darren pointed to his ring on the edge of the bathroom sink and then at the bathroom door. Hers was on the bedside table. “Tangible proof in two separate objects.” He thought for a second and then turned on the shower again. “Still need more?” Sara grinned and removed the robe she wore. “Give up a chance for more tangible proof? Never...”
~
Their shower finished, they relaxed on the bed, content to do nothing but enjoy the silent presence of the other person. Darren and Sara lay facing the same direction, Darren’s arm over her and his face close to the back of her head, eyes closed and breathing relaxed. Suddenly he heard “What is it with you and my hair?”

Darren smiled. He’d come to expect questions out of the blue. “I don’t know. It’s just inviting somehow…hair wet from the shower, the clean fresh smell…” His voice deepened. “And of course, there’s the person it belongs to…how could I describe her…?” He felt her shift and roll over.

Sara let her eyes freely roam Darren, who was wearing only a pair of shorts. Shifting slightly, she ran a hand from the red stone in his palm to his arm, and then onto his bare chest, feeling the muscles twitch slightly under her touch. Darren shivered and lay back, opening his eyes only when he felt one of her fingers trace a pattern.

“Hey Darren, what’s this?” He made a great show of looking down at himself, proclaiming “Why that, my dear, is pure muscle. Be sure to note how chiseled the…” He stopped when Sara shook her head in slight amusement. “What’s what?” Sara pointed to one spot in particular.

Just below Darren’s collarbone, his skin was discolored slightly. It seemed to be grayish in color, noticeable when close. It was no bigger than his hand, but appeared to form a light gray star. “Oh, that. I’ve had that forever. It’s some kind of birthmark.” Sara thought for a bit. “Why didn’t I notice it last night or this morning?”

Darren laughed heartily. “Do you really want me to tell you why, or can you figure it out by yourself?” Sara blushed, but only a bit as Darren went on. “And here I was, under the impression that you were sweet and innocent…” It was Sara’s turn to shrug. “See, we’re finding new things about each other already.” Darren smiled absentmindedly, thinking.

The door shook slightly, the result of a fist being pounded against it in the act of knocking. The couple looked at each other for a second. Darren threw on a shirt, Sara put on her robe, and they opened the door. Diana stood there, grinning like an idiot. “How does it feel to be Mrs. Sara Kinsley?”

Darren mumbled something about women and shuffled back to a chair. Any other time and Sara would have wrestled him to the ground, but not at that moment. Diana shot him a withering look and turned back to Sara, still grinning. “Well? Any different?” Sara grinned in much the same manner. “Yes…now that you mention it, I look at Darren in a new light...”

Darren chuckled, but held his tongue. Sara glanced back at him. “Yes, saying nothing would be the wiser choice.” Darren smiled nonchalantly and leaned back in the chair. Diana rolled her eyes and handed a notice to Sara. “Figured you’d want this, and also figured you wouldn’t be checking your messages.”

Sara glanced over it and handed it back. “It’s standard meetings to discuss training. What’s the big deal?” Diana shook her head. “They don’t announce training this way. We get the papers only when we’re doing something totally new…and that means a battle. It’s time to put your training into action.”

Darren got up and walked over, retrieving the piece of paper from Diana. “It says on Monday. Today’s Saturday. You couldn’t wait until Sunday, or at least later today?” The latter smiled. “Nope! I had to stop by and see how you guys were doing, and if you needed anything.”

“We don’t need anything, but…” Sara’s smile slowly changed into a frown. “You sure you and Thomas are going to get married?” Diana shook her head. “We don’t have to be sure. After the bike race, we figured the chapel was still open…and the minister was still there…”

Sara’s jaw dropped. “You guys…already got married?” Darren whistled softly. Diana shrugged. “We like each other, and he seems like a nice enough guy…for a pilot anyways. And it got me clearance up here to see you guys!” Sara’s smile was plastic, a mask to keep questions at bay while her mind tried desperately to see from Diana’s point of view.

Diana didn’t notice, however, and it appeared that Darren and Sara were happy for her. Diana’s task done, she left after another minute or so of easy talk. Sara shut the door and stared at it for a minute or so before turning and walking back to the bed in a daze. Darren followed, concerned. “Sara? What’s wrong?”

Sara shook her head, uncertainty clouding her mind as she let her head fall to a pillow. “It just seems that they’re so…relaxed about the whole thing. I haven’t even known her longer than a week, and yet I worry so much about her and Thomas.” Darren settled in beside her and stared at the ceiling. “I know. It’s hard to stop thinking about them, and when you’re finally able to, you feel bad. Oh, don’t give me that look, like I can read minds. Your emotions are easily ascertained after studying them for a while.”

Sara leaned over and kissed him. “What’s that you said? You’ve been studying me? Sounds like it’s time for a restraining order…” Darren reached over and ran a hand up her slim leg. “A restraining order? Have I worn you out that quickly? I’d have thought my workout back on that merchant ship would have built up some endurance, even if the constant running around Shirn didn’t.”

Sara smacked his hand away playfully. “Did I say you were wearing me out? No, I didn’t. In fact, I rather enjoy being studied…” Darren grinned. “Yes, and everyone else enjoys studying you as well.” Sara raised an eyebrow. “Do I detect a bit of jealousy?” Darren shrugged. “I’m only human. Seeing everyone else stare does make me a bit…protective? Well, perhaps it helps me realize what a wonderful wife I have.”

Sara rolled her eyes. “Flattery only embarrasses people before the wedding. Now it’s expected.” Darren mock-sighed loudly. “Expected? And here I was, thinking marriage was always fun…” Sara grinned. “No, you’re thinking of the honeymoon.” It was Darren’s turn to grin. “I see. Since our honeymoon isn’t officially over until Monday morning…”
~
Sunday was no different. Darren had arranged for their meals to be delivered for the weekend, so they never had to leave the room. This was very much appreciated by both parties involved.
~
On Monday morning, they were awakened by the blaring of their alarm clock. Darren reached out without opening his eyes, hitting the snooze. The noise grew until Darren got up and switched it off. An alarm clock with a snooze button that makes the alarm louder. A wedding gift from the kind commander, no doubt.

He leaned over Sara and gently shook her, bending down to kiss her cheek. A split second later, his hands came together and stopped a knife thrust just short of his throat. Sara’s eyes snapped open a moment later and the knife was withdrawn quickly. She sat up and rubbed her eyes as Darren sat down and said, “I guess I should’ve expected that.”

Sara attempted to apologize, but Darren waved it away. “It’s not really your fault. In fact, it’s all mine. I should have remembered that we both sleep lightly and ready to defend ourselves.” Sara smiled sleepily. “Really? You weren’t able to defend yourself last night…”

Darren pinned her to the bed. “I was perfectly capable. I chose not to.” Sara smirked as she threw him onto the floor. “Really? Didn’t seem like it.” Hearing his growl from the floor, she squealed, leaped over him, and fled to the bathroom, locking the door. Darren grinned. “Locks and bolts mean nothing to the…to me.” After a moment’s silence, the door opened. Her playful mood gone completely, Sara said, “To whom?” Darren winced. “To me.” “No…you were about to say something else.”

Darren walked over to the bed and laid facedown. Sara followed and sat beside him, placing a hand in the small of his back. “To who, Darren?” Darren spoke quietly. “It was a title I was given back on Shirn. I try not to use it because I don’t want it. Sometimes, however, I slip and find myself applying it.”

Sara closed her eyes. “If that’s all you can tell me, don’t feel bad.” Darren’s shoulders sank slightly. “I’m sorry…there are parts to my past I’d rather forget than bring up. I don’t want to remember them, much less put them in your mind. I’m sorry…” Sara nodded slowly and opened her eyes. “I understand.”

Darren rolled over, facing her. “But you don’t. Immortality is a cursed gift, Sara. With the longevity comes a lifetime to do good, help others, and have fun, but also a lifetime of unfortunate memories and deeds you can’t undo.” He seemed to age suddenly, pain showing in his features. “I…envy you, Sara. Whatever you do in this life lasts but for a century. Can you imagine living in constant fear of yourself, afraid that you’ll do something wrong, make a misstep, think of something horrible…and you’ll remember it…forever?” Sara shook her head no. Darren stared at the ceiling. “You can’t even begin to understand...but thank you for trying. That means a lot to me.”

Sara nodded and said, “Anything I can do.” Darren smiled gently as he glanced at the clock. “We’d better get ready for whatever they have planned.” Sara nodded again, but her eyes were distant. Darren waited a second, and then threw himself forward into Sara, knocking them both to the ground unhurt. Once he had her on the floor, he spoke quietly but with firmness Sara couldn’t mistake.

“You’re worrying too much. This isn’t something I’m trying to hide; it’s something I’m trying to prevent from hurting you. I’m not going to let you stress about this.” Sara stared back defiantly. “I’m not a child anymore, Darren. I can handle myself, and even if I do get hurt, according to what you just said, in a century it won’t even matter, right?”

Darren shook his head. “This is different. If something hurts you, it also hurts me. Your anger is my anger; your pain is my pain. We are linked physically, mentally, and emotionally. I’m avoiding hurting you to avoid hurting myself, as selfish as that sounds. But you know I don’t want to cause you trouble. And even if your hurt goes away…I don’t want to be the cause while it’s here.”

Sara didn’t move her eyes from his. “You’re hurting my arm.” Darren stared directly back. “You’re lying.” Sara’s gaze wavered for a second, but held. “Why would I do that?” Darren smiled unexpectedly. “Now that I have no answer for.” He moved his head forward. “You women are so complicated. And yet,” he let his breath heat the hollow of her neck, “So simple.”

Sara drew a shaky breath, emotions mixing. “Hey,” said Darren, speaking into her neck with a low voice. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have unloaded all that onto you and expected you to just let it go.” Sara shook her head, dismissing his comment while quietly saying, “You’re still upset with yourself for slipping up.” She felt him tense, then chuckle. “Yeah…I guess I am. I don’t want you to be a part of my past, Sara. You’re too good for that; you deserve me now and in the future.”

Sara shook her head again. “I deserve whatever part of yourself you choose to give me.” Darren sat up and rolled his eyes. “Here she goes again with the ‘I’m not worthy’ and ‘you’re better than I am’ lines…” Sara reached up and grabbed his shoulder. “Did I say you could leave? Get back here; my neck was quite warm until you left.”

Darren grinned and returned to his previous position, kissing her fiercely. “You really know how to change a subject.” Sara shrugged as best she could. “It’s an acquired talent. Don’t hear you arguing against it, either.” Darren moved his lips down her neck and she moaned softly. “That’s because I’m not,” he said, his voice filled with passion. Sara’s breaths became shallow. “I’ll…remember that…simple women…comment.” “You do that,” Darren said teasingly. “In the meantime…”
~
Two hours later, they and all the other pilots and their crew were assembled and standing at attention in the main hangar. Hundreds of ships lined the floor, and the only open space large enough to accommodate the small crowd was right in the center. Twenty feet long, sixteen feet wide, and shaped with a compactly smooth look, each D3 Suppressor was designed for speed and maneuverability. The lights glittered off the polished gray exteriors, and if the students stared at one ship for too long, they would swear it was moving. The fighters could be manned with a varied crew; the expected number was three to five persons per ship but most stuck with four.

Commander Garcia stood in front of the people, shuffling papers behind a lightweight podium. When it appeared that everything was in place, he tapped the microphone a few times, sending a high-pitched squeal throughout the entire hangar, causing more than a few to swear and cover their ears. Their attention was now focused on him.

“Good morning, pilots and company.” It was obvious right from the start that Garcia thought highly of the pilots, or at least thought them better than the others. “Today will be slightly different than usual. Instead of training, you will all be involved in a real battle with the enemy.” Murmurs of surprise ran throughout the collected students. Most of them were still raw recruits.

The commander went on. “Today will also be slightly different in that your normal crews will have one addition: a supervisor. You will have an experienced pilot on board to guide you if you need assistance, and take control if for some reason you are unable to perform your duty.” The murmurs grew, especially among the experienced. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Something must be up.

Whatever it was, Garcia apparently didn’t feel the need to explain it further and started to walk away, but an aide pushed a piece of paper into his hand and began whispering furiously. The quiet hum was now a dull echoing roar as people turned and started to discuss. Garcia waved the aide away and stepped back to the podium, hushing the crowd once more.

“It has just come to my attention that I am allowed to release details behind these unprecedented actions. I’m sure you’re wondering why we set students out in battle so early. Well, the truth is,” He paused for emphasis. “…We are very close to winning this war. If we throw everything we’ve got at them, we can take back the heavens for ourselves, and Shirn will be free once more from the tyranny of alien forces!”

The crowd responded with an enthusiastic roar, cheering. At last, the end of their long, arduous task was within reach. When the final battle had been won, they could return to a freed world, where they would be lauded as heroes and be treated with respect until the day they died. And that was just the beginning. Technology could be used once more, making life easier and better for everyone, not just themselves.

The commander held up his hands, again waiting for silence to settle before continuing. “Everything else will go as normal. You will be assigned a ship. Once you have met and familiarized yourself with your crewmates outside and inside the ship, you will make notify your squadron leader through radio contact. Five ships to a squadron, forty-four squadrons total. Go, and make us all proud to be Shirnites.” Darren did some quick math in his head as the assembly applauded. 220 ships. Doesn’t seem like much of an attack force…

Sara led the way to the ship, picking her way through the crowd. She’d taken note of her assigning and had searched for it beforehand. “56” was emblazoned across both sides and the hull, so it wasn’t too hard to find. Darren looked it over for a second, noticing several changes. “It’s different from the others.”

“Well, well... Observant, cute, and a mechanic. What a welcome change from the last crew.” Darren and Sara turned to meet the speaker. A slightly shorter-than-average woman grinned up at the both of them. Darren reached out to shake the raven-haired beauty’s hand. “Darren Kinsley.” The woman returned it, her well-muscled arms displayed during her firm grip. “Celia May. But you can call me Celia or just C.” Her clear blue eyes focused on Sara. “And Barbie here would be…”

Sara relished watching Darren’s smile transform from kind to merely polite as she replied, “Sara Kinsley. Nice to meet you.” Celia nodded. “Married? Doesn’t happen often up here. Good for you.” She looked past them towards the other end of the hangar. “You’re right about the ship, of course. It’s got some upgrades for speed and movement. As soon as the other guy gets here, we’re going in. I’m supposed to tell you that I’m the experienced pilot, so if anything happens, just do what I say and there’ll be no problems…but this is my first time overseeing another pilot, so it’ll be fun for both of us.” She grinned at Sara.

Sara smiled hesitantly. This would be interesting. Celia turned and jumped. “Jeez! Don’t sneak up on people like that!” Their last crew member stood a little to Celia’s right, quietly listening to their conversation. It was the small trainee from her classroom, the one whose desk held all the paper wads. He stared at each of them in turn, waiting for them to make the first move.

Darren stepped forward and shook his hand as well. “I’m Darren...” The boy nodded. “Kinsley, I know. I’m Timothy, but everyone just calls me Tim. Nice to meet you, Sara, Celia.” He dipped his head to each as acknowledgement. Celia eyed him suspiciously. “How’d you know my name?” Tim smiled slightly. “I’ve been standing here the whole time. I’m told that I’m quiet and don’t usually get noticed. Whatever works, I guess.”

Celia shook her head. “Whatever. You’re the secondary weapons operator and communications manager. Sara is the primary weapons operator and pilot. Darren repairs and maintains all systems. I oversee and correct any mistakes you might make or fix bad habits you might have. Seeing as we’re all here…” She glanced around, watching for the authorization to enter. “Let’s go.”

A rectangular piece of the side of the ship slid open and the hissing of pressurized air being released multiplied rapidly as others did the same with their ships. Darren stepped inside and let the women enter first, smiling inwardly as Celia mumbled unintelligibly when she passed him. Tim shut the door behind them, fastening it in place with electronic and manual locks.

Sara stepped into the center of the ship and looked around. Loose cables hung from the low, seven-foot ceiling, ran across the floor, and sprouted from every place imaginable. The pilot’s chair and the area surrounding it, located directly at the front of the ship, was the only truly clean spot in the entire ship. Tim found his place and brushed candy wrappers from the console and chair.

Celia voiced what they were all thinking: “This place is a DUMP! The last person out is supposed to make sure the whole thing is clean. This reflects badly on the previous crew… it’s just pathetic, but there’s no time to clean it all up. Tim, contact the squad leader and let him know 56 is ready to go.” Tim nodded and flipped a few switches, speaking softly into the speaker on his controls.

Sara leaned forward and examined her set of controls. In the very center of the entire setup was a large black screen, which could be rotated through three different viewpoints: front-side view, rear-side view, and radar. Directly to the left and right of the monitor were two joysticks, used to aim the engine output and guide the ship. Buttons of every imaginable shape and size littered the rest of the panel, used for anything from targeting to adjusting her chair for the best position.

Darren took the time to familiarize himself with the ship. The loose cables all around could mean difference between life and death if one snapped. Each removable panel in the walls held circuitry that was both costly and intricate. As mechanic, he had no set station except for a small screen to display system data, but was expected to be constantly working. And with the state this ship is in, I probably will be.

Tim looked up. “They’re beginning to launch by squadron. In the squadron, we’re position four. It’s V-shaped, so we’re a little behind and to the left of position two. We should be soon.” Sara warmed up the main engines and stress-tested the major parts. “All systems green so far.” Darren walked over to his screen and rotated through diagnostic checks. “Seems like the power to the left gun is a bit low. I’ll get to work on that.” He unhinged a piece of the wall and reached inside.

“This particular ship has anti-gravitational loss” Celia said, while waiting for the signal to launch. “It keeps all of us on our feet, instead of floating around using handholds.” Sara glanced over her shoulder. “Couldn’t they just call it artificial gravity instead?” Celia shook her head, annoyed. “If we turned over in artificial gravity, we’d fall. With AGL, there’s no worry about that. You could pull as many loops as you like, turn ‘upside-down’ for days, and we’d still be standing up. Did you miss that lesson?”

Sara colored. “Considering my wedding was that night, I think my lack of concentration was justified.” “Does your lack of concentration justify the loss of our lives?” Celia shot back. Tim coughed loudly and Celia whirled on him. “WHAT?” The young man adjusted his glasses and sat up. “The communication is about to become two-way over the full speaker system for the launch sequence. I figured you’d want to keep this…discussion inside the ship, instead of letting our entire squadron hear your…debate.

Celia cooled, but not much. “You’re siding with her, aren’t you?” Tim sighed and leaned back. “I’m not taking sides in this. It’s your argument; don’t drag me into it. I’m just preventing our total humiliation in front of Destiny.” Darren stood up and spoke before anyone else could. “Power to the left gun restored. We’re good for all systems.”

And not a moment too soon. The overhead speaker crackled with static for a brief moment, then cleared. A calm, smooth voice came through. The pleasant intonations could make the listener feel as if nothing else mattered but them at that point; so much charisma it held. It was the voice of a leader. It was the voice of their leader.

“Good day to you all, members of the Gray Knights. We have a new crew in ship 56, so although we must depend on them for assistance, we must also pay special attention to their needs. We are only one of forty-four squadrons, but it could be ours that makes the difference. Fight each battle as if yours would win the war, and do not forget that you have comrades who will die for you if need be. But don’t make yourself a martyr; we need each and every one of you to reach our full potential. Stay focused, take heart, and we will win this battle. Launching commencing…now.”

The speaker crackled again and fell silent. Tim glanced around the room for the others’ reactions, noting Darren’s thoughtful look and Celia’s rapt attention. Sara was now fully concentrating on her timing and flying in formation, oblivious to all else. She had acquired the look of a warrior entering into combat, aware and alert.

The floor rumbled slightly as ship 56 left the hangar and entered open space. There was no time to enjoy the vast star-covered blackness; almost instantly the inter-squadron communication came to life. “Alien forces sighted. Prepare to engage.” “Confirmed. Preparing.” The squad commander’s voice drowned out the rest for a brief moment. “Gray Knights, we’re working together with Striking Viper and Holy Force. Their ships are 60 through 70. Whatever their commands are, follow them as if they were mine.”

The radar lit up with red and green triangles, displaying enemy and friendly positions. Darren shot a glance over Tim’s shoulder and winced. The red far outnumbered the green. Their V-shaped formations quickly split up and began the fight. The front of the ship was closed, and only Sara had access to a view of what was happening via a headset with visual capabilities.

Darren jumped as a shower of sparks fell from above, then sighed and reached up to fix whatever had just broken. Join the war, they said. See the world, they said. Actually, they didn’t say that. So I really have nobody to blame but myself. And who could ask for more than what I have?

The ship shook as they were hit by enemy fire. Celia turned to Darren. “Damage report?” “Minimal,” he replied after taking a quick glance at the screen. “Shields decreased by three percent. Nothing else.” Celia nodded and turned to Tim. “Are we engaged?” He shook his head, saying “Almost there. We’re keeping good formation and shouldn’t have a problem with assistance.”

“Engaging first enemy!” Sara’s voice pierced the air. Tim looked down at his screen, then back up at her. “Where? There’s nothing there.” Sara’s voice held no emotion. “Well, he’s gone now.” Tim rolled his eyes. “Quit playing, Sara.” “I’m not playing. Check the feedback from the weapons.” Darren confirmed what Tim couldn’t believe: The newest, rawest pilot on Destiny was destroying ships before they could even be counted.

Sara squeezed the trigger three times and three more red triangles disappeared from Tim’s radar. He glanced up at her in astonishment. “What kind of training did you go through to get this kind of accuracy?” Sara continued concentrating, but spoke out of the corner of her mouth. “Normal training like everyone else. I guess I just practiced more or something.” Two more enemy ships disappeared from her view.

The audio in her private headset came to life. “56, enemy forces have surrounded some of us. We need help over by 63 through 65. Assist ASAP!” “Understood and on my way,” Sara replied. She shifted the controls to the left and put more power into the engines. Even then, it would still take them a minute to arrive at their destination, so the best way to proceed was to attack and move forward slowly. When an enemy ship was destroyed, it would simply fall apart. There were no fancy explosions or screams of agony. The whole battle was strangely eerie and calm. Shattered lights reflected off the gray ships for brief instants.

Darren glanced down at his panel. “We were just hit by debris. Shields at 91 percent.” He began removing wall panels and repairing circuitry again. Sara reached the fray and dove in once more, breaking the ring of alien ships quickly and efficiently. Half were destroyed before they were able to fire off a single shot, and those that fired usually didn’t get a second. The shields of ship 56 were only down to 82 percent by the time that particular skirmish was done.

The rest of the battle was merely mopping up remaining forces. After two hours of chasing stray fighters, the squadrons were given the order to pull back. Sara set the ship on autopilot for return to Destiny and slumped down in her chair. If this is an average battle, then perhaps the commander’s right. We do have a chance of winning.
- posted by Nick @ 7/26/2004 10:35:00 PM

 

We interrupt your regularly scheduled story to bring you: The Making of Twilight Rising

It all began when I was around eleven or twelve. I was always (still am :-) different than other people my age. I was quite a bit smaller and a whole lot quieter. I quickly became the outcast, which was fine by me. Even at that young age, I could see through the older kids’ popularity contests and phoniness, and I wanted no part of it. So naturally, a lot of my time was spent dreaming up ways to correct the horrible injustices of the world, usually involving somebody and explosions of energy. And so, the basis for Twilight Rising was born.

As the years went by, my ideas became more coherent and less of a childish dream. While I hadn’t given them names, my characters acted out scenes in my head constantly, whether I was awake, busy doing something, or dreaming. I often thought about putting it all down on paper, but never went through with it.

Then came college. Thrust into a new world, I scrambled to find a foothold. I sank into my computer games once more, and my grades plummeted. By this time, I didn’t even consider typing the story out, much less publishing it on the internet for all to see.
To this day, I still do not know the exact reason I started typing Twilight Rising online. Could be I finally had access to a world I’d never seen before. Could be I just didn’t consider it. Could be that seeing other people publish their work sparked something in me. Could also be that I tired of gaming as an outlet for stress, and decided to find something new to do. Most likely it was a combination of all those and more. Whatever the case, I decided to begin typing it.

First problem: title. That’s right, even after six years I still had *no* idea what I was going to call this thing. I must’ve spent an hour staring at the flashing cursor before coming up with anything close to decent. To my shame, however, the title was largely the product of my roommate NW’s genius. I thank him again for helping me with the title, but I respectfully refuse his request to put The Random Russian in Twilight Rising. Perhaps in a different story, NW. Perhaps in a different one…

Anyways, so now I had the title. Second problem: character names. I didn’t even have a clue what most of my characters would be called. So I went through a bunch of census listings of last names to get those, and for the first names…I already had Sara in my head, but that was it. If I’d used “Nick” as the main character, it’d be a bit *too* obvious, now wouldn’t it? :-) I settled on Darren as a solid name. Originally, Darren’s last name was supposed to be Henderson…*wince* That would have been bad…I changed it to Kinsley before I started writing so it’d flow better. Williams and Rodriguez are common last names, so that wasn’t hard. As for all those Shirnish names…completely original ideas of yours truly. Shirn, B’thda, Pilosh…those too. Mine! All mine! Precioussss…

*cough* Third problem: plot. I had the character traits, appearance, and personality…but what would they *do?* Well…now I’ll reveal to you my secret of typing all this good stuff. Ready? I’m making it up as I go along. :-) Half the stuff that happens in Twilight Rising is spur-of-the-moment, random stuff that I’m able to tie into the plot, and the other half I get ideas for while daydreaming in class. Personally…I’m amazed that it turned out this well. (And even more amazed that I got decent grades.) I certainly didn’t think I’d get this far, and I actually didn’t intend for a lot of stuff to happen in the story…but it did.

Well, there you have it. Ferment six years of chaos in a teenager’s head, pound it out on the keyboard at 2 in the morning while listening to various pieces of music for maximum potency, serve in sporadic updates, and you get Twilight Rising. I continually enjoy typing it; probably more than you all enjoy reading it. And I don’t mind one bit. ^___^
- posted by Nick @ 7/09/2004 09:13:00 PM