16: A Quiet Night
It was a cool evening in the Varganian capital, Rokasham. Leaving Calshae Prime had proven a little easier than Toron had expected, as he and Grand General Masrak had used the latter's private shuttle. No one had tried to stop them when they had departed, which at least suggested that those forces out to stop them were only a small splinter group of the government. Either that, or the UPD did not intend to make a spectacle out of shooting a popular General out of orbit. They would shoot him in a back alley and make it look like the work of terrorists or some such, but to knock his ship out of the air in front of however many others? Not a good look.
Toron had spent the better part of the last hour seated in a corridor in the Governor's estate, situated outside of the Governor's office whilst the Grand General spoke to the man himself. They had evidence that the previous High Protector had been murdered by someone close, rather than simply perishing in an act of arson. It was the break they needed, even if it was still a somewhat flimsy lead. It was claimed that the High Protector had been the victim of a conspiracy; indeed, the conspiracy had come from his successor rather than alien outsiders and their Calsharan accomplices. Nonetheless, the General was convinced that with this evidence and news of what had happened after they had been given it would be enough to sway the Governor to their side. And, in turn, the Governors of a few of the other major colonies might be inclined to join them as well.
Rila Cassalis was named in the data-pad given as the one who had ordered the evidence buried. It would be a poor look for her, if this news got out. The esteemed Supreme Commander might find herself faced with some very awkward questions. Toron had always figured her to be a dangerous woman, and the fact that she had apparently had a hand in the previous High Protector's death only confirmed this.
For now, however, it seemed that Toron had been left waiting. He thought of his mother and of his home, how he would likely never see either of them again. To think that maybe his mother had been arrested, thrown into a cell somewhere and left to wither away in solitude…
No, he had to stay strong. There was no point in getting caught up in such misery. His mother would want him to remain strong, and that was what he would do. She had sent him on this path with her blessing, despite her failing health. He would do her proud, as he would his father, one of the first victims of the regime. It was for him he had allowed himself to become involved in all of this, and he was partly grateful for it. Getting involved had led him to learn the truth about what had become of his brother, for one.
He was tired, the day had been long and he realised then that he had no changes of clothes or even a place to stay. Things had happened so quickly that he had not had a chance to pack a bag, so here he was on Vargania with simply the clothes on his back and whatever few Union credits he had in his pockets. Since the General was taking his time with the Governor, Toron figured he would be fine in leaving his spot in the corridor.
Night had fallen outside, visible through a window at the end of the hallway that looked out upon a lush garden. Outside lamps cast yellowish patches of light across sections of the estate's grounds, small bugs fluttering and gathering about the illuminated fittings. It was otherwise a pleasant night out, and Toron found himself headed for the rear exit nearby to take it in for himself.
He emerged into the cool night air, where he stopped upon the rear porch and gazed across the hedges and flowerbeds that were arranged about the back garden. A pair of armed guards were on patrol out here, outfitted in the blue-grey uniforms of the Planetary Defence Force. Neither paid Toron much mind, more concerned with their own prolonged boredom as they did their rounds. Insects chirruped from within shrubs and flower bushes about the grounds, and somewhere distant an animal howled, a long rollicking call that sounded almost like laughter. This set off the many calsagri hounds that numerous locals kept as pets, sizeable four legged creatures covered in a mix of scales and fur. Their calls were shorter, more curt howls. Toron recalled having such an animal of his own when he had been a child, purchased by his mother when he had been only five years old. A faithful companion, but long dead now.
"Are you looking for something, Lieutenant?"
A female voice. Toron spun around, finding the Captain he had met on his first trip here standing a short distance behind him. She was in the uniform of the Varganian Planetary Defence Force, the all-round 'home guard' for the colony. She had been the customs officer who had greeted him and the General when they had arrived that first time, prior to going back to Calshae Prime to meet the doctor. She was slim, with light green skin, a cluster of blue feathers at her head and a pair of crystal blue eyes. She had one brow-ridge quirked, curious as to the Lieutenant's loitering out here.
"Looking for something?" Toron shook his head. "No, not really. Just thinking."
"That's a bad habit," the Captain said, smirking. "I try to avoid it myself." She stopped alongside him and followed his gaze across the quiet, darkened garden. "Surely this is much more pleasant than the home-world?"
"It's quieter," Toron admitted.
"Too many people on the home-world," the Captain said. She turned to him, blue eyes meeting with his yellow ones. "I'm Captain Lahea Varollon, by the way. You're Toron Kavellan?"
"That's right." The Captain was certainly an attractive female, and roughly on par with him age-wise judging from her appearance. He could certainly have made worse company, he supposed.
"The General keep you waiting?" She asked him. Toron figured small talk could do no harm, so he nodded in affirmation.
"Politics," Toron replied. "I'm not really one for it."
"Oh, no?" Lahea looked a little surprised. Toron shook his head.
"I'm a soldier, like you. I don't know how veterans like the Grand General can put up with it. So many people are only out for themselves."
"Not everyone. I know the Governor actually cares. I've known him a long time. He's not in it for the power or prestige. He wants to help people, help Vargania. I don't know if you know, but Vargania tends to get ignored by the central Union government."
"I might have heard a few grumblings about that," Toron said. It had been a regular issue for as long as he could remember: the less populated colonies were having less say in the way the Union was run. Vargania was often seen as an agricultural backwater by those on the home-world, particularly those in higher society who often wound up in politics.
"I'm Varganian, born and raised," Lahea added. "If it ever comes down to it, Lieutenant, I may end up picking Vargania over the Union."
"Let's hope it doesn't come down to that." As he said it, Toron realised how little he believed it. With what the Grand General planned to do, it could very well come down to a choice like that for a lot of people. Here on Vargania, and elsewhere within the Calsharan Systems Union.
"Six colonies and one home-world," Lahea continued. "All with equal say. That was how Visala intended it, but I feel like we've drifted away from that over the centuries. What about you? What do you think?" She eyed him expectantly, and Toron suddenly found himself unsure as to how to respond.
"I don't know," Toron said. "I mean, I don't follow it enough to really have a say."
"What about the war? Surely, you've been following that?"
Again, he shook his head. Lahea looked surprised, but otherwise made no comment.
"I've been sitting out on the war," Toron explained. "My mother's in poor health, so I've stayed with her." Mentioning his mother now only made him pause, and he swallowed back the emotions that threatened to spill out of him when he thought of her.
"How is she now?"
"She's…" He trailed off, wondering how he should respond. What could he tell this Captain, really? How much of what was going on did she know? Toron supposed he would be best to keep a lid on the full truth, and so he remained as vague as he could:
"She was going as well as she could, last I saw her." A partial truth, for she had indeed been fine when he had seen her last. As for what had become of her now, that was something Toron did not want to think about.
"And you've got the General dragging you out here?" She smirked, apparently finding this fact worthy of amusement. "Are you his long-lost son or something?"
"Hardly." Toron chuckled then, suddenly feeling a little better. "No, I'm just helping him out with a few things. He's a friend of the family."
"Friends in high places. Always a good thing to have." She tilted her head slightly then, curious. "You do look a little messy, Lieutenant. Like you slept in your clothes. Did you leave Calshae in a hurry?"
"You could say that." This Captain was certainly full of questions. Toron appreciated the conversation, nonetheless. He needed to take his mind off of what had happened, and he certainly did not want to spend the evening sitting around waiting for the General. He would only get lost in his own thoughts then, and with the current circumstances that was something he wished to avoid.
"I've got a handful of credits and the clothes on my back," Toron added. "Things got a little frantic and I had to leave in a hurry. The General's probably got a place for me, but he's still meeting with the Governor." He wondered just how much longer the meeting could be. He supposed, with what was at stake, that the meeting could very well go on all night, especially if they intended to get other planetary governors involved.
"From what I can tell, your friend the General is going to be a while," Lahea said. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she regarded him, and something coy took hold of her pleasant features. "My shift's over in twenty minutes. I've got room to spare at my place, if you're interested."
Toron looked at her, unsure if he had heard her right. Eyes a little wider, he took an extended moment to answer, mulling over the best course of action here. He could leave, but if the General came out of the meeting looking for him, he would not be able to find him. Toron supposed he could leave a message with the Governor's secretary, so when the General was out of his meeting he would know where to look for Toron. As for this Captain, she seemed friendly enough and certainly sincere. Also, there was the undeniable suggestion of something much more intimate with the offer. Toron was certainly not going to turn down a woman such as her.
"Well, if you put it that way, I would be a fool to decline such an offer."
Vargania was one of the more agricultural colonies of the six, although it had since expanded over the centuries, becoming a bustling world in its own right. The colony worlds of Arkava and Tornya had been similar backwaters, with Arkava the youngest of the three (yet that still rendered it many centuries old). All were situated within the same cluster, a brief hyperspace journey away from Calshae Prime and settled well before the time of Visala, when the Calsharans had first developed hyperspace-capable starships. Each had long histories, and each had fought hard to be recognized as independent states until the great war and Visala's arrival. In the face of that enemy, the Union had been founded and the infighting had ceased.
The Governors of both Arkava and Tornya were present, as was the Governor of Vargania, all of whom were seated around a table in the Varganian Governor's office. They had been arguing for hours, with Grand General Masrak pacing about while the politicians bickered. Riall Nalgen, the Varganian Governor, was the oldest of the three. The other two, Jerr Talvek of Arkava and Veia Corron of Tornya, were somewhat younger and seemingly more hot-headed and impertinent. Whereas Talvek broached a cautious approach to the latest findings, Corron was entirely willing (and perhaps a little too eager) to take their finds before the people and allow them to decide. The evidence was there, they had all seen it now: High Protector Garvus Castrell had been killed well before the fire in the Annex had started, and his body had been burned by a conventional accelerant and not by an incendiary bomb. Someone had doused him in crude fuel and set him alight after he had died. The official story fell apart, courtesy of the information the former High Protector's physician had provided them. That made it clear that the ascension of Tarva Garall to High Protector had been a coup, backed no less by the then Fleet Commander Rila Cassalis, now 'Supreme Commander' of the entire Calsharan Space Navy. A very convenient promotion for her, especially given how young she was. Usually someone that high up on the hierarchy needed a good many years behind them.
The curtains were drawn over the windows, with the only light provided by a fitting over the table the representatives were seated around. This was a clandestine affair, with no records being made. If it were discovered that a handful of planetary governors were plotting against the central government, all of them would be arrested. Treason carried the death penalty, and General Masrak knew full well that this is exactly what it was. They were traitors against an illegitimate regime, but that did not make the enforcers of that regime any less capable of finding them and putting them to death.
Veia Corron, a female in her forties dressed in a formal blue gown, had a very agitated look on her mottled green features. To prove her latest point, she slammed a fist down upon the glazed wooden tabletop, causing the whole thing to rattle.
"The people must decide," she demanded, the short cluster of grey feathers at her head ruffling from her anger. "A vote must be held."
"To do so would reveal what we know," Governor Talvek countered. He was a middle-aged male with blue-grey skin and light blue eyes, outfitted in a lavish, silken blue uniform adorned with the emblem of the Arkavan Planetary Defence Force. "The Annex government would crush us."
"Not if we stand together," the General interjected, and he stopped by Governor Nalgen's place at the table. "We secede, claiming that the central government is illegitimate and that an election must be held to decide a new High Protector. This will force their hand."
"It will tear the Union apart," Talvek said, scowling.
"The Union has already been torn apart," the General countered. "We have a tyrant in power who tightens his hold on us all with each passing day. We do not need to tell the public about what we now know, but we need to stand together if we are to oust that infantile leader."
"The Union has stood for a thousand years. I will not be among those to tear it apart."
"Well, Governor, sometimes you have to do things you don't like for the greater good. You've seen what's going on, same as I have. And with what we now know, the decision should be easy. If we call for a general election, we can at least reduce the likelihood of civil war."
"That would be inevitable, regardless." It was Governor Nalgen who said this, and he leaned forwards somewhat, his expression grave. "Someone like Tarva Garall will not relinquish power willingly. He has too many supporters for it to be a clean transition of power, even if he were to give it up. There will be bloodshed, that much is a given."
"We cannot sit back and allow him to plunge the empire into a never-ending stream of wars," the General said. "So many of our people will die. Many already have, fighting on some far away world in the name of expanding the empire. High Protector Garall believes our species to be the rightful inheritors, the superior race. I am a patriot, but I draw the line at needless fighting." He paused briefly, allowing his words to sink in. "Only weeks before the death of the previous High Protector, an order was put out to all of our armed forces outside the home systems. A return call, to fortify the home systems and fall purely into defensive roles. I suspect that the former High Protector expected an enemy from outside to strike." He looked about the room then, half-expecting that Vigilant, Jorran Casker, to appear. However, he did not. Were he here, he might have been able to shed some light on this subject.
"What kind of enemy?" It was Governor Corron who asked this, eyeing the General curiously.
"The ancient enemy, the one that Visala drove away from our homes and into the fringes of the galaxy," the General answered. "The scourge from beyond the stars, from the void outside of the galactic arms. You must know something of the old stories?"
"The Vigilants saw fit to bury most of the details," Corron said. "I did hear the bedtime stories when I was a child. My father used to joke that the 'demons' would get me if I misbehaved." She smirked at the memory. "They were beaten, weren't they?"
"And yet, the Vigilants were formed to guard against their return, and to vet and select a High Protector whenever the need arose. Evidently, Visala believed they would come back. And if she believed it, then so should we, surely?"
"Bedtime stories?" Governor Talvek was considerably less believing. "Nonsense. We're here to talk about the state of our great Union, not about old tales of ancient alien monsters. I intend on keeping our empire great, and that means finding a way to use what we know to get rid of the infantile Tarva Garall."
"And how else do we achieve that, without bloodshed?"
"You suggest civil war." Talvek shook his head. "There must be another way, surely?"
"Assassination?" Grand General Masrak shrugged. "Not likely to work, seeing the kind of support on the home-world the High Protector has. Kill him and he becomes a martyr. His supporters become even more ferocious. I see no other option but to secede, promising a return if a democratic election is held."
"High Protectors are chosen, not elected." Governor Nalgen turned to the General, the doubt etched plainly upon his face. "A strong leader is needed, and the people cannot be relied upon to make that decision. That was from Visala's own Articles of Foundation. Governors and Lower Protectors can certainly be selected by the populace, but the High Protector is chosen by the representatives of all Calsharan worlds and by the Vigilants of Varondaar, with input from the previous High Protector. Granted, his words are not always heeded."
"Except in this more recent case," the General countered. "You did not choose him, nor did anyone else here. He was accelerated into the role by his supporters behind the throne. That alone should be cause for revolt."
"The circumstances were unique," Nalgen said. "And the previous High Protector had Tarva Garall listed as his successor, in case of his untimely death."
"Yes, because he had been grooming Tarva for the role for years before that. However, I suspect Tarva hid his true intentions from the old man during that period." The General paused, and he frowned at Nalgen, another thought occurring to him then. "I suspect that Vargania's Protector is firmly within the Tarva Garall camp?"
"Salas Varmi is a fanatic," Nalgen said, and he spoke the name with some noticeable disdain. "So yes, she is firmly in the High Protector's camp." The 'Protector' was appointed the overall commander of the military on Vargania, save for the Planetary Defence Force, which fell under the more civilian jurisdiction of the Governor. If this woman was indeed a 'fanatic', then she could prove troublesome for their efforts here.
"But the Defence Force?"
"They will be loyal to me, mostly. There is no guarantee of full support, nor is there a guarantee that Protector Varmi would have every soldier under her command in full support of her actions. She is one to keep an eye out for, if we do proceed with our intentions."
"We may need to expel her," the General suggested. "Arrest her and send her away. Without her, the contingent under her command will be left leaderless."
"And doing so would only bring the central government down upon us." Governor Talvek sounded aghast. "Whatever we do, it spells conflict."
"You are content to leave Garall in charge?"
Talvek did not answer, nor did the other Governors. What they felt was clear, however. They had gathered here because they all agreed that the High Protector had to be ousted. How they would go about doing that, even after what they knew now, was the reason why this meeting was going on for so long. General Masrak wanted to rest, get some sleep, and yet here he was arguing with politicians. Sure, they had all done some time in the military, a necessity if they were to ever hold some form of political office; however, the General was a soldier first and foremost. This kind of prolonged arguing was frustrating. He needed to take action, not go on discussing what action to take. Especially as there were people out to kill him, people who knew what he had acquired from that doctor. Sooner or later, those same people, cronies of the High Protector and his newfangled UPD, would come here to Vargania and try to kill him all over again. Action had to be taken soon, preferably before their enemies took action first.
"I must discuss this with my associates," Talvek said, and he rose from his chair. "I will be in my room, if there are any emergencies." He paused, eyeing the others at the table carefully. "I certainly hope there are none of those." With that remark, he turned around and walked out of the room.
Governor Corron also rose from her seat then. She met the General's gaze with a light smile, exposing a set of perfect white, pointed teeth.
"I think I will get some sleep," she said. "We'll continue this in the morning."
"We need to make a decision." The General's voice was firm, and he gave the woman Governor an expectant look.
"And we will. Don't expect Talvek to be so willing, but as for myself, General, I will support you with whatever you decide. And I suspect Governor Nalgen will as well." She gave them both a respectful nod, before she followed after Talvek and left the office. The whole room fell quiet then, and the General gave the small personal communicator he wore at his left wrist a glance. The clock display made it clear that it was very late.
"General?" Nalgen looked up at him. "What do you think?"
"I think I'm getting tired of all the talking," the General replied. "I hope we make better ground tomorrow. Time is not on our side."
"Yes, you did mention that earlier." Nalgen scratched at the pair of stubby, bony horns at his chin. "You think the UPD would try anything here?"
"I'm certain they would. Our High Protector is not known for his subtlety."
Salas Varmi was asleep in her home when someone pounded upon it, loudly. Enough for the whole door to audibly rattle. Irritated, she awoke with a start, her bedroom darkened and the curtains drawn. A glance at the nearest chrono-readout told her it was the very early morning, earlier than she preferred to be awake. Still, the thumping at the front door continued. Huffing in annoyance, the blue skinned Calsharan female climbed out of her bed and hurriedly slipped on a casual grey gown. She would have thought that the guards she had outside would have stopped any would-be doorknockers, so the fact that they had not suggested that maybe what awaited her was actually important. Given the late hour, it had to be.
A slim Calsharan female, Varmi was in her late thirties (relative to a human's perspective) and the 'Protector' of Vargania, a rank that held power chiefly over the Calsharan military contingent on the colony, yet stood for very little when it came to actual policy-making. The Governor had the real political power, and sometimes Varmi felt as if she were unnecessary window-dressing. Even so, she had a purpose here, as did everyone else in the grand scheme of things. Not to mention, her position paid very well.
Her home, provided by the Varganian government, was not particularly lavish, being situated in a row of mostly identical two-storey houses. Older buildings at that, comprised of brick and timber, situated close to the heart of the Varganian capital, Rokasham. Perhaps too modest a home for a Protector, but that was to be expected of the colony rubes that she found herself surrounded with. She was from Calshae Prime, born and raised, and living on this filthy backwater had been unappealing, to say the least. However, her role had its benefits, among them a very healthy wage. She supposed she could greet whoever was thumping on her front door, given how much she was being paid.
She traversed a flight of steps down to the lobby, switching on a light as she went. Unlocking the door, it slid open to reveal the last person she had expected to see here on Vargania, of all places.
"Supreme Commander." Varmi practically stuttered the words, dressed in a loose-fitting gown and little else, stunned to see the Supreme Commander herself standing on her doorstep. Varmi knew she was hardly dressed for the occasion, compared to the grey naval officer's outfit Cassalis herself was wearing. It was tailored to account for her very pregnant belly, and Varmi found herself wondering why Cassalis simply was not resting in the lead up to the impending birth of her child. This visit was definitely important.
"Good evening, Protector Varmi." Her eyes narrowed, she regarded the Protector's outfit and smirked. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"
"No, of course not, Commander." Varmi stood up straight and saluted. Standing a few metres behind the Supreme Commander, scattered across the front yard and the street beyond, were about a dozen black-clad UPD officers in full armour. The sky above was gradually turning into the purplish shade of dawn, as the sun began its gradual ascent. It was cold outside, and Varmi closed the gown around her body tightly.
"I need you in your combat uniform within the next five minutes," Cassalis ordered. "And I need you to get hold of any troopers you can, specifically those under your command and not with the civil defence force."
"What's going on, Commander?"
Cassalis retained her smirk, as if relishing what they were about to do.
"We're going to arrest some traitors," she declared, before she turned around and started back down the footpath that ran through the centre of the front garden. "So, you better dress up expecting a fight."
"Of course, ma'am." Varmi hurried back into the house, racing upstairs with her heart pounding. Cassalis had granted her the position of Protector, and she had aided her rise through the ranks over the years before that. She owed a lot to the Supreme Commander, and as such she did as she was told, readying herself for what could be a fight to come. That meant putting on her black Protector's uniform, as well as an armour vest and the waist holster for her plasma pistol. Within minutes she was done, if still appearing a little tired from the abrupt awakening. When she met Cassalis again outside, she listened enraptured by her tale of traitors at work in the highest levels of the colonial government. They had much work to do, it seemed. As for how the Varganian government (and the citizenry) would react to a UPD operation taking place against their leadership, that seemed hardly a concern for Cassalis. Varmi, on the other hand, knew full well it could end badly and cause further trouble. Yet, if Cassalis told her it was for the best then she was all for it. Besides, she had never really trusted Governor Nalgen. He was too much of an independent, someone who had enacted policies intent on distancing Vargania from the home-world. The opposite of what Visala had no doubt intended, when she had first laid the groundwork for their great empire.
