" Sir, the patrol last night hasn't reported back."
" Did you send someone to look for them?"
" No sir."
" Why haven't you?"
The operator turned to look at the officer, "We can't do that, sir. Not without the consent of higher authorities."
"Well since I'm here now, send a party to look for them."
" I can't, sir. Colonial rules are different. Only men with Marshall or higher ranking can issue military orders."
The officer stared down at him, "Who's in charge? I'll go speak with him."
" No one is, sir. He's been arrested for treason."
" T-Treason?" the officer stuttered.
"Yes sir."
" Why was he arrested?"
" Well he was –" the operator hesitated. He quickly changed the subject remembering why he had come in the first place. " We have other news more important, sir. These include an urgent order to withdraw the military occupation of Mar Sara. I'm sure, sir, that your superiors have already briefed you in with the situation. Xenos have been sporadically appearing in the outskirts feeding on livestock, and here sir, I also have human casualties relating with them."
The officer looked at the papers strewn across his desk, he had only just arrived on the colony, and already mountains of data were waiting in line for his utmost attention. Then what's this? Tarsonis already wants him out, no not only him, but the entire colony?
"Lieutenant? I've also got a report while you were still resting in your chambers from the regional Magistrate. He wants a full diagnosis of the situation, and he also requests that you dine with him later this evening. There are other reports –"
"The other reports are a waste of time. If Tarsonis wants the colony and its military to leave, any other report is trivial. In fact, that would be my report to the Magistrate. Inform him that, would you?" He saw the operator nod, " In any case, how am I going to call for a withdrawal of colonial force in Mar Sara if I can't order it, like you said."
The operator grinned, " Sir, the Magistrate has the power. Convince him. I suggest you should accept his offer to have supper with him," and he left it at that, turning around he left the office.
The Lieutenant sighed, this was definitely not the kind of work he signed up for. He hated Politics.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was late, he felt tired. The dinner with the Magistrate had taken more out of him than he had thought it was possible. Having to remember all his manners, having to remember to laugh or smile for the jokes, this wasn't what he joined the military for. Perhaps it would have been all worth the reward. But nay, no reward was to be reaped this night. He sighed, not only did the Magistrate refuse to cooperate and withdraw colonial forces, he ordered him to take a battalion of men to scout and obtain valuable info on the Xenos.
He was in quite a fix, if he followed the Magistrate he will be labeled a rebel in the eyes of the Confederacy, and if he followed the Confederacy, not only would he be unable to pull the troops out from the Colony, he would be heavily chastised by the very same Confederacy. Either way, his career was at stake. It was a lose lose situation. He had judged and compared the differences. Helping the Magistrate would clearly label him as traitorous, as a man who rather follows a civilian governor's word to that of the government. Heck, the stripping of his rank would be nothing compare to the hostilities he would be receiving. In the eyes of his superiors he would be no difference from the jaunty and rebellious men of Korhal.
On the other hand, if he were to be steadfast to his belief and refuse the Magistrate, he would have failed his mission. Stripped of his rank, an embarrassment to his family who were generations of top Confederate officers. God, he thought, what a fix I am in. He could probably guess the Marshall had been in the same. Well, guess which path that man must have took? Now he's in jail somewhere for treason.
He folded his overcoat neatly on his work desk, then quickly stripping off his fatigues and his dress uniform. Taking off his boots, he flopped onto his bed. Choosing my path can wait for tomorrow, he thought, and he slept.