25: The Last Quiet Night

Rila Cassalis had always wanted to have a family. Ever since she had been a girl, she had wanted children, had fantasised about having several of them for there was nothing more special to her than having children of her own. Of course, the fantasies of a little girl often changed once that girl entered adolescence and then adulthood, and her desire for a family had waned in place of her desire for power and influence. She had worked her way up the hierarchy in the Calsharan space fleet, and she had done so with the backing of her father, a prominent fleet official. It paid to have family in high places, although she had worked hard nonetheless. She did not want people to think she had come this far through nepotism.

Now the hard work had paid off, for she was Supreme Commander of the fleet, in charge of the entire Calsharan Space Navy. It seemed fitting then, that she had finally realised her childhood fantasy by having a son shortly after attaining the highest rank she could in her respective branch of the military.

Infant Calsharans were small, covered in smooth shining scales. The males at this stage of development lacked the small bony horns that would later grow through their chins, cheekbones and scalps. As for infant females, they lacked the thin spines and thin feathers that would come to dominate their own heads. Instead, the infants were almost plain, and in the case of her son he seemed as normal as they came. His skin tone was a slightly darker shade of red than his father's, although he did have his father's yellow eyes. The infant was sound asleep, wrapped up in a grey blanket and cradled in his mother's arms. It was a relief to finally have him out of her and in her arms, even on just a basic physical level. There was some respite to be found in the fact that she was no longer carrying that excess weight, and her stomach had returned to its previously slim width.

Cassalis sat up against the headboard of the bed in the hospital, one of the better such establishments within the capital city. They were up a number of floors, and a window off to her left looked down upon the city centre, where the Annex government complex dominated the skyline. It was dusk outside, the sky a deep orange in colour. Lights were switching on all over the cluster of gleaming towers. The end of another ordinary day on Calshae Prime, and life here seemed to continue on as normal despite the war being waged on their borders. And closer to home, the growing unrest on at least three of the major colonies.

The standoff on Vargania still played back in her mind, yet it had been relegated to background noise, replaced with a focus upon her newborn son. She had named him Dorvan, after her father. To her, this newborn was the most wonderful thing in the world. She wanted to forget about what had happened on Vargania, forget about her increasing problems with the High Protector (her nephew, no less) and about her own growing uneasiness about it all. However, when she looked at her son she was only reminded of his father, and that in turn brought with it the rage she had felt at his death, a death brought on by a human whose name and face she had committed to memory: Colonel John Sheppard. Thoughts of vengeance darted about her mind, tempering the joy she felt at having her son in her arms. One day, she would find him and avenge Jarvok Hosva, the only man she had ever truly loved.

Her aide, Lieutenant Narsa Norrask, had paid her a visit earlier. He had awkwardly congratulated her before he had relayed to her whatever messages had been sent in her absence. He was, from what Cassalis had felt, more concerned about how this infant would affect what was going on between them. He had not voiced his concerns, but Cassalis had picked up on them nonetheless. She had not said anything about it, if only because she was not entirely sure how to break it to the young Lieutenant that to her, he was little more than stress relief. After Norrask had departed, her sister had returned. Vela Garall was a nurse and she worked in this very hospital, so it was no surprise that she had put herself on Cassalis' case.

Vela was in her grey and white hospital uniform. She came in, offered her sister a friendly smile and paused by the bed.

"How are you feeling?" She asked her.

"Fine." Cassalis was still sore from the ordeal of giving birth. It was nothing serious and would fade with time.

Vela had a data-pad in one hand. She glanced at it, skimmed through the information displayed upon it and nodded her head.

"All your scans are good," she said. "No problems before, during and now, it seems, after the birth. And nothing wrong with your son, either." She glanced at the sleeping newborn. "As per protocol, you'll remain here for a few more days…"

"I have work to do, Vela." Cassalis was quick to interrupt her then. She wanted to stay with her son, but the problems on the colonies needed her attention. "I will stay, but only until tomorrow."

"I can't recommend you getting back on duty," Vela countered. She narrowed her eyes, although she was well aware of her sister's stubborn nature. Arguing with her was likely to lead to punches being thrown. "Don't you wish to spend as much time with your son?"

"Of course I do, Vela." Cassalis shot her a hard glance. "But there are things going on I need to see to. I can't turn my back on my duties, not for any reason. Not for…" She trailed off and looked down to her son again. She had never felt so conflicted in her life. Finally, she had a family. However, it was not how she had envisioned it. The father was gone, long before his own child had been born. And then there was the threat of civil war, which had only increased over the past couple of days to a point never seen before in the past thousand years. Cassalis could not ignore it, she could not turn her back on the security and unity of the Calsharan empire.

Before her sister could say anything in response, there sounded a knock from the doorway. Both women looked towards the source, with both being somewhat surprised to see High Protector Tarva Garall standing there. There were two armoured bodyguards behind him, and both stepped into the room after him, standing to either side of the doorway and ready to act at a second's notice. Vela regarded her son, dressed as he was in his preferred full black uniform, studded with ribbons and medals, and she seemed distinctly unimpressed. Cassalis detected something displeased in Vela's gaze, as if seeing her son here had annoyed her somehow.

"Mother." Tarva gave his mother a nod, before he turned to Cassalis. "Supreme Commander."

"You didn't tell me you were coming," Vela said. One would have expected a mother to be pleased to see her son, especially after a long time apart. Instead, she sounded almost dour.

"I have important business to discuss with the Supreme Commander." He nodded towards Cassalis. "If you please, mother. We will need some privacy."

"As you wish." Vela, with a somewhat reluctant gait, turned and walked from the room. As soon as she was gone, the bodyguards closed the door and Tarva approached Cassalis' bedside with intent. He looked down at the sleeping newborn and smiled. It was a smile that Cassalis found to look more malicious than friendly.

"How is my new cousin?" Tarva asked her.

"He is well."

"May I hold him?"

Cassalis paused. Tarva was probably the last person she had expected to ask her for such a courtesy, yet he appeared genuine. For once, there seemed to be no underlying motive. So, with a hint of uncertainty, she handed the sleeping, bundled-up newborn to Tarva. He cradled him gently in his arms, looking down at his relaxed face with a warm smile.

"He looks like his father, does he not?"

"Yes, he does." Cassalis knew that Tarva had had almost no real acquaintance with Jarvok Hosva, so really, what did it matter to him whom the baby looked like?

"If you need anything, aunt, I can arrange it for you." He passed her back the infant, and Cassalis was quick to bundle him back into her arms. "A new mother needs all the help she can get."

Her son stirred a little in his sleep, but thankfully he did not wake up. More crying was likely to follow when he did finally awaken. For Cassalis, she had the means to get nurses and the like to help her with tending to her newborn son's needs, especially if she was not present. At least some of the burden on her would be lifted, and she felt she would need it if she was to deal with the problems cropping up on the colonies.

"What's happening on Vargania?" Cassalis asked him.

"The colonials are arguing amongst themselves, last I heard," Tarva answered. He spoke with a dismissive tone. Apparently, the growing insurrection was hardly any concern to him. "They will likely vote to secede from the Union in the next few days, if not sooner. Your standoff with the Varganian Governor has spurred them on."

"You can't blame me for this…"

"Oh, I'm not." Tarva shook his head, quick to allay Cassalis' concerns. "It was a mistake to send you without additional help. Which is what I intend on doing. Of course, I wouldn't want to send a woman in your condition back there. Especially now that you have a son to care for."

"I'll go back, if I must," Cassalis stated, and she meant it. Son in her arms, she knew she was committing herself to something that would see her torn from him for some undetermined period. However, he would be safe here, with her sister. Vela would look out for her boy; she could count on her.

"You want to go back, so soon after giving birth?" Tarva was surprised. However, he was not about to refuse her. "Well, if you insist, Supreme Commander. I wouldn't recommend it, but then again, I am no doctor."

She looked down at her son again, hit with second thoughts. What future did her son have if their empire was split apart? Civil war was on the horizon, she could see it coming unless drastic action was taken. She knew what Tarva intended, as it would no doubt be the most direct approach responsible. They had to stop this now, before it went any further. Easier said than done, certainly, but not a challenge Cassalis would shy away from.

"What of the boy?" Tarva asked her. "Who will look after him while his mother is off quashing a rebellion?"

"My sister can take care of him. She raised you, didn't she?" Cassalis thought of adding, as wryly as she could, 'And look how that turned out.' However, she stopped herself, and instead smiled inwardly as Tarva quirked one brow-ridge at her. He had detected the unspoken remark, and he appeared uncertain as to how to reply. He hardly had anything to do with his mother these days, as taken up in his work as he was. Even before he had become High Protector, his mother was someone he had seldom made time for. Cassalis had to wonder how Vela felt about that, to have been cast aside as soon as Tarva had got into the upper echelons of power. She certainly would not feel good over it, that much was obvious.

"I want this Governor and his cohorts dealt with, Supreme Commander," Tarva said. "By any means necessary. A problem such as this cannot be allowed to grow."

"You want me to kill them all?"

"If you must." Tarva did not even pause before saying this. His mind was made, and he had apparently little care for the political ramifications of it. Sure, most of the people here would support their young, strong leader. The colonials had always had too much of an independent streak, and that was partly Visala's fault for having granted them a degree of autonomy way back when she had created the Union. A thousand years later and one of their major colonies was plotting to break away from the long-standing Union. It was unacceptable and it had to be stopped.

"If we are too overzealous about this, we could make things worse." Cassalis had not come this far without a degree of caution. Tarva, on the other hand, had been propelled into his position without having had the same time and experiences behind him to know his limits. Cassalis knew that by helping him ascend to High Protector, she may have created a monster. And yet, the only way she saw to proceed was to end this rebellion before it started. A standoff was one thing, but to send more soldiers to effectively invade Vargania? That was liable to blow up in a number of ways, and as such it would have to be done so with an 'all or nothing' approach. They would move in, stamp out the rebellion and allow a new Governor to be chosen. The troublemakers would be eliminated, one way or another, and the whole thing would be over in a matter of days. Perhaps this course of potential events seemed too ideal. To Cassalis, it was the only way they could stop this, and so things had to be done right. All the more reason for her to go, even if it meant leaving her newborn son behind.

"It must be done, my dear aunt. And if you wish to be in charge, then that is fine with me." Tarva offered her another smile. She did not find it as reassuring as her nephew likely intended it to be.


Another evening on Vargania. And another long meeting, one that Toron had been allowed to sit in, at Grand General Masrak's request. At first, he had been interested to hear what the Governors and their associates would say. However, he had quickly become tired of their constant arguing, the back-and-forth that never reached a proper conclusion and the repeated statements being made by a number of those representatives in attendance.

The 'Hall of Officials' within the Governor's estate was a large room adorned with expensive paintings and hunting trophies of some of the more dangerous predators to be found on Vargania. One side of the room was taken up with arch-shaped windows, and through the thin curtains could be seen the dark of the night, held at bay by the hall's bright light fittings. Governor Nalgen of Vargania was seated at the long, rectangular table that took up the centre of the room, and across from him were both Governor Corron of Tornya and Governor Talvek of Arkava. They were joined by about half a dozen other officials, none of whom Toron knew. General Masrak was seated amongst them, whilst Toron himself sat on a chair off to one side of the room, bored out of his mind. He had been given a uniform, specifically a grey and blue one of an officer in the Varganian Planetary Defence Force. He was not an official member of the VPDF, but General Masrak had suggested he wear it, if only because it denoted him as a Captain and thus someone with reasonable importance. He could not wear the uniform of the Union military, simply because his actions and those of the General had made them traitors to that Union. Not that General Masrak would consider himself a 'traitor' by any means; he was loyal to the Union and what it stood for. However, he could not continue to do the bidding of an increasingly totalitarian regime lead by an illegitimate High Protector. Even now, Masrak wore a VPDF uniform, embellished with the rank insignia of Grand General. It was a statement of allegiance now, and it seemed, from what Toron had heard so far, that Governor Nalgen was all for turning against the Union. It would only be for however long High Protector Tarva Garall remained in power, but it was apparent now that the High Protector had no intention of stepping down.

Toron hated politics. Always had, and it was one part of the service he despised for the politics seeped into every facet of the military. On board the Sword of Calshara, he had found himself faced with the expected politicking; of officers trying to weasel their way up the chain of command, of cosying up to the people in charge. Toron had believed that it was one's work that would show whether or not they were worthy to rise in the ranks. Having spent much of his young life in the military, he had come to realise that in many cases, hard work and talent had little to do with it. He could have become a Captain well before now, but he had refused to play the games that so many others at his level had done so. He had been resigned to spending many years as a lowly Lieutenant, nursing some hope that one day he would do something worthy that would see him promoted. He supposed he should be grateful that the promotion had come, he had simply not expected it to be as part of a secessionist movement.

That was what the Governors and their associates were discussing: the decision to break away from the Union. Governor Corron, who to Toron seemed the bravest of the three Governors present, had already sent the evidence they had of the High Protector's murder back home to be disseminated amongst the general population of the Tornya colony. They would be all for breaking away from the illegitimate regime, or so she said they would. Toron very much doubted that one hundred percent of Tornya's population would be in favour of secession. Many would, but not all of them. From what he understood, Tornya had a population of about seven hundred million. They were one of the most populous colonies, rich in crucial natural resources necessary for the home-world's industries and military. If they left the Union, the effects would be widespread and pronounced.

"My decision is made," Corron said, and she offered them all a beaming smile. "My ministers are holding a vote back home as we speak. I suspect it will be in favour of secession, in light of the recent evidence and the incident that occurred earlier today."

"They won't let Tornya leave," Governor Talvek, of Arkava, said. Arkava was fairly small in terms of population, when compared to the other major colonies. About two-hundred million Calsharans lived on Arkava, and in the grand scheme of things that did not seem like much. The Calsharan home-world alone was home to billions.

"They'll just have to put up with it," Corron countered. "We will not be ruled over by an illegitimate High Protector. I can understand your trepidation, as Arkava is a smaller colony. But you will have Tornya's protection, no matter what happens." It was a promise that would have been easy enough to keep, given Tornya's sizeable defence force. Arkava was only a short hyperspace flight away, so any trouble directed their way would not be out of reach of Tornya's home guard.

Finally, Vargania lay somewhere between the two colonies in terms of size. Governor Nalgen was no longer as uncertain as he had been before, after what had happened earlier that day. The home-world would send more soldiers to stop them, they all knew this. On their own, each colony would likely fall to the sheer might of the home-world's loyal military. However, together they stood a chance. They all knew this, and Grand General Masrak had said as much during the meeting.

"Vargania will be with Tornya, it seems," Nalgen said, after a long pause. He sounded tired, and his voice wavered slightly as he said this. Deep down, he knew he was committing to a dangerous path, and it could all end badly for everyone involved.

That left Governor Talvek as the one of the three still undecided. He had the most to lose, given the relatively small size of the colony he presided over. Some of the other representatives present, mainly assistants to the Governors in attendance, began to argue again. Toron leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his eyes, once again reminded of how much he detested politics. He wondered where the fugitive Vigilant, Jorran Casker, had gone. He had a habit of appearing out of nowhere, and Toron suspected he was close-by, just out of sight, like he usually was.

Toron thought of Lahea, and if she was anywhere close. He would have liked to see her again, as they had parted ways this morning very suddenly and not in the way he would have preferred to do so. He would find her later, as now hardly seemed the appropriate time to be thinking about the attractive female who had taken a liking to him. They were in the process of determining the fate of the Calsharan Systems Union, as the 'Union' was not likely to stand once the decision here was made final.

"I want Arkava protected," Talvek said, having pondered this matter for an extended moment. "Our home guard force isn't quite as extensive as what can be found here on Vargania, and certainly not to the extent of the force protecting Tornya."

"There will be plenty of defections from the Union military," Masrak said. "Especially those from the affected colonies. I don't think we need to worry about being short of trained personnel in the coming struggle. And that is what it will be, a struggle." His voice became grave, and Toron found himself leaning forwards a little in his seat, attentive. At least when the Grand General spoke, he found him worth listening to.

"As we saw today, they will do everything they can to stop us. Doing so, they risk bringing on the ire of the people as a whole. There will be many defections, as I said, but there will be as many fanatics adhering to the High Protector and his regime. We threaten to end a Union that has stood for one-thousand years, and we do it not because we want to but because we must. To preserve the Articles of Foundation and to remove an illegitimate dictator who has plunged us into an unnecessary war, a war that threatens to weaken us while greater threats sit back and await the right time to strike."

"Committing to this will start a civil war," Talvek warned. "We will weaken ourselves through that alone."

"And that's a risk we need to take," Masrak countered. "We shall see how the other colonies stand on the matter, but from henceforth the worlds of Vargania, Arkava and Tornya will be united in their stand against this illegitimate tyrant. That in itself is a sizeable force, and more will likely rally behind us once it becomes clear that this is not some small, localised rebellion." He turned to Governor Nalgen, who looked up at him with one slightly quirked brow-ridge. "Recall every Varganian soldier out there. Send the word that they must choose, between their home-world or the Union. Some will come, some will not, but we must rally the troops."

"They risk desertion," Nalgen said.

"And we risk our very lives standing against the High Protector. We are, in a way, deserting the Union, but only because we must do so in order to save it. The High Protector certainly doesn't stand for it, not if we judge his conduct so far. We must organize our forces, consolidate them into one. The home-world will come for us, as well as any of the other colonies who choose to align with them. And there will be a few, that much is assured."

"Well, I should get going, then," Governor Corron said, and she rose to her feet. She looked to the others seated around the table, offering them an amused smile. "It's been a pleasure, a lot of fun, but as the Grand General says, we have work to do. A lot of it, and I'd prefer to start it sooner, rather than later."

There was a knock on the door then, and all heads glanced over as a guard there pulled them open. A uniformed Lieutenant hurried into the room, pausing by Nalgen's place at the table. He leaned in close to the Governor and spoke quietly, such that no one else could hear the words. After the message was given, Nalgen gave a nod in confirmation and the Lieutenant turned and rushed out of the room, gone almost as quickly as he had come. Toron saw the Governor's expression go from firm to outright grim, and the look in his eyes suggested a mix of fear and determination. Something bad had happened, and the others around the table got this impression from him right away.

"What is it?" Masrak turned to the Governor, narrowing his eyes. As the de facto military leader for this proposed secession, he needed to know what was going on.

"It's what we all knew would happen," Governor Nalgen declared, and he looked across at those seated with him. "The home-world intends to send a strike force here, much larger than the team we faced earlier today. We received word from a sympathiser on the home-world, and they should be arriving here in five, maybe six hours."

Toron could hardly believe it, yet it was what they had all seen coming. The High Protector was launching what would practically be an invasion of Vargania, although such a term would not be used by him to describe it. 'Police action', maybe, but not 'invasion'.

"We have time to prepare," Masrak remarked, first to see the positive in this news. "And time for both Governor Talvek and Governor Corron to get on their ships and return home. I suspect the coming fight will decide how well this movement of ours goes." He looked to the pair of Governors. "You two best distance yourselves, in case this whole thing goes poorly."

Talvek appeared aghast at the news. He rose from his seat, shaking his head, unable to believe it.

"No High Protector would launch an attack on any of the colonies," he exclaimed. "It's madness."

"This High Protector would, it seems," General Masrak replied, with only the smallest hint of something wry to his expression. "That is why you and Governor Corron should leave as soon as possible." He turned to Nalgen, who appeared to have frozen in response to the news. He was in deep thought, it appeared, hand to his chin where his fingers absently stroked the pair of short, stubby horns protruding from it. "We need to organize our defence. They will want us, you and I and everyone else involved in the movement. They take off the head, then they hope for the body to fall. We will need to rally the people here and expose to them the truth about this High Protector's rise to power."

"You think that is wise?" Nalgen, his reverie interrupted, looked up at the General.

"Not any less wise than contemplating secession. If we want as many of the people on our side as possible, then we must do this. Put it out on all public broadcasts. Spread the news and the evidence with it far and wide. Hopefully, this will bring as many supporters to us as we need to hold off the home-world's advances."

Nalgen nodded his head in understanding, even if he did not appear terribly confident.

"Very well, General. I will make the arrangements. If Visala were alive today, I don't think she could forgive us for what we are about to do. She went to some lengths to unite our worlds and create the Union. Here we are, tearing it asunder, one-thousand years of unity destroyed in a matter of days."

Masrak frowned at this. He did not seem to entirely share the Governor's thoughts on the matter.

"Visala would be shocked at the fact that we allowed an illegitimate High Protector ascend to power. She would have been among the first to call for action, however violent, to oust such an individual. Had we acted sooner, High Protector Garall would not have been able to amass the same level of support as he has now. Every important office on the home-world is occupied by his loyalists. And he even gave you that Protector, Salas Varmi, another supporter of his. That would have been just the start, Governor. He would have made his moves against the government of this colony in the coming months, same as with the others."

Both Corron and Talvek hurried out of the room, followed by their respective aides. Toron watched them leave, wondering briefly what kind of success they would find in rallying support on their colonies. For now, it appeared that Vargania would have to stand alone, and it would be the fight to come that would decide the fate of this mounting rebellion. It would end here, or it would grow into something unstoppable. Toron was not sure what to think of being in the thick of it, seeing as how dangerous the whole situation was. Still, it was comforting on some level to know that he was directly involved in history being made. As for whether the historians would celebrate or vilify them, that was something they would never be truly sure of.

"Captain Kavellan." Masrak turned to him. Governor Nalgen was out of his seat then, heading off to attend to his duties. The Grand General motioned for the young Captain to come over, and so Toron did, rising to his feet and stretching his legs.

"What is it, sir?" Toron stopped alongside him. Masrak expression was grim. He put a small disc on the table before them, and from it projected a three-dimensional map of the city. Toron recognized some of the landmarks represented on it, but otherwise the capital was still mostly unknown territory to him. So far, he had remained within the central district, with the furthest point he had travelled from the Governor's estate being the home of Lahea Varollon.

"I'll need your help in organizing our defences about the city," Masrak said. His concern was more to do with his deep contemplation, as he tried to work out how best to ward off the forces the High Protector had sent their way. "We'll be outgunned, but I don't know if we'll be outnumbered. We'll know for sure in a few hours, once the Governor brings me the numbers of loyal soldiers and civil defence personnel."

"Do you think the people here will agree with what we do?" Toron had thought about this a great deal the past couple of days. It was all well and good for the Grand General and the Governors to plot, but what of the hundreds of millions of people they ruled over? How many of them would be on board?

"Plenty will, I suspect. More so once they see the evidence that doctor gave us." He paused for a moment, and he turned to set his eyes firmly upon the young Captain. "What many don't think about is how it only takes a few to make a difference. If even ten percent of the population here supports us, then we've won. Even if Garall kills us now, those people aren't likely to change their opinion. In fact, our deaths would likely spur it on further." He sounded sure of this, and it was a certainty that Toron found infectious. It also sounded a bit too idealistic, once Toron paused to think about it a little harder. How many people, truly, would support an insurrection against the Union government? They were all engaged in treason now, and if captured they would be tried and executed. Toron had accepted this when he and Masrak had left the home-world the other day, when Toron had been forced to leave behind his mother to what was likely to be her death. Thinking about it now only angered him, made him all the more sure of his course of action here. His parents had been law-abiding and loyal to the Union, and both had paid the ultimate price.

"I would suggest getting in with the Planetary Defence people," the Grand General continued. "Like that Captain, Varollon." He offered Toron a knowing glance when he said this, and it was apparent then that the fugitive Vigilant, Jorran, had told him of the young Captain's latest tryst. "Help get them organized, get a feel for who we can trust and who we can't. And you'll have to make it fast, as we've got maybe six hours before we're in trouble."


The garrison for the capital city's contingent of planetary defence soldiers was located a little way outside of the city's central district, not far from the governor's estate. The garrison consisted of a walled-off compound containing a handful of basic rectangular structures, barracks and the like, complete with a parade ground and a hangar full of heavy-duty equipment. That included self-propelled artillery vehicles, although from what Toron soon determined, those vehicles had not been used for many years.

He found Lahea waiting for him by the garrison's main gate. The guards there allowed him entrance without issue, and in fact they seemed to welcome the former Union space fleet officer. As Toron strode down the main road that wound through the compound, shrouded under the darkness of the night with patches of illumination granted by the evenly spaced light-posts, he found himself being approached by multiple Varganian soldiers. Most would have been reservists, those with a profession outside of the military who had taken to the civil defence force as a part-time job. Many had answered the call to action that the Governor had put out shortly before Toron had arrived, warning the people of the colony that they would soon be under threat by a force from the home-world. Not all of them had come, of course. Understandably, some did not want to fight their own kind. Others did not support the intended secession, the shattering of a Union that had stood for little over one-thousand years. Many simply did not want to die, and if a battle did occur, there would be plenty of death to go around. It would spoil the peaceful city and its surrounding wilderness, sights and sounds that Toron had found himself enamoured with during his short time here.

Lahea greeted him warmly, and he suspected she would have leaned in to kiss him had they not been in a military compound surrounded by other soldiers. She instead saluted him, and he in turn. Sure, they were of equal rank, yet it was clear that his experience in the Union fleet might have granted him some small measure of seniority to her. It was one of those grey areas regarding the usual military protocol, something that they may need to get sorted if they were to have a clear chain of command for any impending battle.

It was late, too late for some. The sizeable turnout was surprising, but the urgency of the situation had seen many of the reservists answer the call. And the bulk of those who had answered the call had gathered in the garrison's main hall, the largest building within the compound. Walking inside, Toron was struck by the assortment of Calsharans gathered inside, some in uniform and others still in their civilian attire. Males and females, young and old, including a handful of those who looked to be barely past adolescence. And then there was a smattering of the elderly within it all, old men in their seventh or eighth decades who may very well have been veterans, now answering the return to duty when faced with threat of an attack on the colony.

There were a few seats upon the stage at the end, cast under the harsh glare of some unnecessarily bright yellow lights. One was occupied by an ageing male in the familiar blue and grey uniform of the Varganian Planetary Defence Force. He was a Major, according to the insignia upon it, and he rose to his feet as the two Captains approached. The audience was a mass of raised voices, piled-on conversations and general noise. Now this Major was trying to quieten them all down, his blue eyes squinting under the harsh lights.

"Everybody, quiet. I will have order in this hall." He sounded tired, exasperated. He thumped a closed fist upon the tabletop, causing the noise to resound through the hall. Still, the commotion continued, as it appeared very few in the audience of a few hundred were even listening.

Toron and Lahea approached the stage, taking the steps to climb upon it. The Major turned to them, sighed, and without warning pulled his pistol from his waist and fired a shot into the ceiling. The noise it made was enough to draw him the attention of the crowd, as was the small, smoking hole the plasma bolt blew through the ceiling above. A trail of dust fell down after it, sprinkling upon the tabletop. The Major, satisfied, slid the gun back into his waist holster.

"That's better," he declared. He gestured for the two Captains to take the stage. "Captain Varollon, Captain Kavellan, it is good you are here. Grand General Masrak told me you would be coming." He directed this last part to Toron. It seemed odd to the young Captain that he had been granted somewhat more importance than he was used to. These were unusual circumstances, so he supposed he should not be too surprised. Even so, he felt strange coming upon that stage in front of about two hundred, maybe three-hundred people from all walks of life. All of them had come to the defence of their home, an admirable action in itself, so these people were certainly worthy of some respect.

"I am Major Voska," the ageing Major said. He regarded Toron carefully. "You might think us colonials are an uncouth bunch, and maybe we are, but we aren't afraid to stand up and fight for what's ours. The High Protector has no right to send his lackeys after us."

"He already did, earlier today," Lahea said, and she took position just to Toron's left.

"Yes, the General told me about that. In itself, one might consider that an act of war, if we were in fact separate states. Instead, as part of the Union, we are expected to simply tolerate it and play along." He shook his head slowly. "We know when a line's been crossed and invading one of your own colonies certainly qualifies." He looked to Toron again, frowning. "I was told you would be able to help us?"

"I'll do what I can." Toron felt a little lost here, even more so when he had all these eyes focused upon him. Hundreds of them, all looking at him for guidance, and all because he was an officer of the Union and a friend of the Grand General. He would have preferred that the General be here instead, but he had other things to attend to regarding the Union forces already present on Vargania. How many of them would be loyal and how many would follow the High Protector?

"You're going to have to do a lot more than that, boy," the Major countered. It was odd, being called 'boy', but given the visible age of the Major, it seemed that Toron was very much a 'boy' in his eyes. "People are scared, uncertain. What you have before you now are those civil defence people willing to fight for their homes against a superior force, those who are willing to chance killing their own kind if necessary. Most only do soldiering part-time."

"And you, Major?" Toron asked him.

"I was a Union officer, just like you. I took this job as a form of quiet retirement." He sighed then, shaking his head. "I suppose that was too much to ask, from the look of things." He turned to the audience then, and he spoke loud enough for his voice to be picked up by the microphones hidden about them. In turn, his voice was amplified across the hall.

"This here is Captain Toron Kavellan, an officer of the Space Fleet of the Calsharan Systems Union. He is here to help us and advise in the face of this new threat. We have only hours before the High Protector's forces arrive, and our orbital defences are not going to be adequate to stop them all. They will come here, they will land their soldiers and they will come for our leaders and anyone they even suspect supports them. I believe that they will replace our Governor and his ministers with new ones loyal to the High Protector. And Vargania as a whole will lose itself to the tyrannical rule of a power-mad dictator." There were some murmurs amongst the audience. Some may not have agreed with this assessment. The Major, however, did not care.

"You're here, now. If any of you do not have the courage to do what must be done, then you are welcome to leave. You are welcome to go home and hide in your cellars and under your beds. Just don't complain to me after the fact that your children now have to live under a tyranny not seen since before the unification." The murmuring ceased. Major Voska smiled, before he turned to Toron. "Captain Kavellan, do you have any words for those gathered here before us?"

What could he say, really? He felt that the Major had already said much of what needed to be said. Nonetheless, he moved alongside the Major, and the older officer took a few steps to give him the space necessary. All eyes in the hall were fixed upon him now, and Toron remembered those odd times in the past when he had been before a small crowd. Being an officer meant you were a leader, and a leader often had to give speeches. That was what the situation called for now, and the words he needed did not come to him straight away. He was overthinking it, he realised, and he decided, after an awkward pause, that he would speak from the heart and less so the head.

"My father…" He swallowed, composing himself. Some murmurs spread through the gathered civilian soldiers, but they were quelled when he resumed speaking. "My father was a highly-respected officer. He devoted much of his life, right from when he was a boy, to serving the Union, to serving our people and to fighting our enemies. He was loyal, almost to a fault. He believed in the ideals that had formed the basis of the Systems Union, and he believed in the mission of the Vigilants and the Articles that were drafted when our worlds unified. He was loyal, and for that he was repaid with arrest, imprisonment and execution. High Protector Garall removed my father as part of a greater purge, one that saw much of the home-world's positions of power, both civilian and military, cleared of potential threats to the new High Protector's reign. My father believed in the old ways, and because of this he had to die. Or so the High Protector had certainly supposed. Only days ago, my mother was the next to be taken by this new regime. Her only crime was attempting to save her son."

He took a deep breath. Everyone was watching him now, and they all appeared to be listening. He had their full attention, and so he continued:

"We are now embroiled in a war where our sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, father and mothers are sent to die for the ambitions of a tyrant. More dangerous enemies lie in wait, and as we weaken ourselves, they only grow stronger. And now, for choosing to stand against the tyranny, we find ourselves targeted by our own people. Those who align themselves with the High Protector are the enemy, but do not hate them. They see themselves as the heroes, much as some of us might do. They believe in the office of the High Protector much as I used to. Some may turn to our side given time, but for now we must survive the coming battle. And make no mistake, people will die. Some of us in this room right now will die. Even I may, the most we can do is fight hard and to the best of our ability. And if Visala were here now, I suspect she would approve of our actions. The last thing she would have wanted to see was the society she helped build twisted into something callous and ruthless. For too long, we have allowed an extremist cell in our highest office run amok, and now that they have full power they turn Calsharan against Calsharan. Until the High Protector and his associates are removed from power, we will no longer remain beholden to the Union."

Was he laying it on too thick? He thought he might have been, although looking over the crowd he saw that some of them appeared to agree with his words. Heads were nodding and some excited murmurs passed through the gathering of people.

"I will do what I can to help you all through this," Toron said. "Win or lose, we make our stand here on Vargania. A stand against corruption and tyranny. If the Union must be severed to do so, then so be it. It is not worth upholding that Union if it is to be twisted by a tyrant into something else, something cruel."

A silence followed. It went on for an extended moment and Toron, still doubting his speechmaking abilities, thought that maybe he had lost the crowd. Yet, as he watched, some of them did begin to clap. Not all of them, but most. A few even cheered, amped up for the fight ahead. Toron managed a smile, despite his reservations, and he turned to the Major. The old veteran nodded his head, apparently impressed. As for Lahea standing to his other side, she met his gaze with a beaming smile. If she had been the only one to like his speech, he would have been glad. As it was, he was positively brimming with the kind of pride he had not felt for some time. He had forgotten, for a long while, just why he had become an officer. Now he was reminded of why, to lead and inspire others, no matter how bad the odds. And Lahea, she appeared even more beautiful under the lighting in the hall than she ever had.


After the haphazard meeting in the hall, Toron found his way outside to the rear of the building. A chilly breeze wafted across the mostly sparse grassy yard out here, and he found himself looking up to the stars above. He stood under the glow of a lone white-hued lamp by the door, and it was out here he rifled through the pockets of his uniform and retrieved one of the few images he had of those he had most cared about. It was a simple still image embossed in a protective coating, flexible so that it did not fold and damage the image within. It was no larger than his palm, portraying a more innocent time: him, his parents and his brother, standing together as a single, functioning family, backgrounded by the lush garden his mother had tended to at their home. The photograph was nearly five years old, from a time when Toron had just been promoted and Valkas had been assigned to a unit under an officer named Corasar.

This was what he fought for now. His brother may have gone on to greater things, but his parents had been taken from him. Looking at it now, it served to steel his determination for the task at hand. In a matter of hours, Vargania would be under attack. An evacuation order had already been made, encouraging the civilians to flee into the countryside and wait out the fighting. Toron would be in charge of one sector of defence for the capital city, Rokasham. Grand General Masrak would oversee the whole defensive operation.

"You all right?" Lahea's voice. Toron tucked the image back into his uniform. He turned to face her, and she emerged from the doorway behind him, stopping alongside his left.

"As all right as I can be," he replied. "We've practically started a civil war."

"Sometimes you have to do things you don't like." She reached over with one hand, grabbing his own, intertwining her fingers with his own. "By morning, we should know if Arkava and Tornya are going to be with us. If they are, we won't be completely alone."

Their respective governments would vote as to whether to support Vargania's call for secession or not. Toron figured they would, but for now the decision was not set-in-stone. He glanced to the communicator around his wrist, whereupon the display told the time: still some hours to go. Locals would probably be evacuating now.

"You know, Captain, I wasn't sure about us," Toron said, turning to her. "We sort of departed in a hurry."

Lahea smiled, before she took his other hand in her own.

"Well, now that you mention it, we still have a bit of time. There are a few vacant living quarters here." Her implication was obvious. Toron had his answer then, he supposed. She was serious enough. Seeing as how they could likely be killed tomorrow, it would be a waste to decline her advances.

"Very well, Captain. Lead the way." He allowed her to tug him along, guiding him to the nearest room that remained unoccupied. At least now he could find some solace, after everything that had happened and in the face of the bloodshed to come.