Wow...two chapters in one day. This should keep you all busy for awhile.
I had to go hunting for this one. For me to get the Albion council, I had to call on some friends to give me descritpitions and scans of comics, and thankfully it worked.
Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I observe the rights to the original creators of the original characters.
Check back for "Nocturne Conversations" and "Liberators from Knothole" for edited versions.
Ultimatum of a Warrior
By: Mauser
"Where's Wesson, Ell-Tee?" Stenson said in a pitched growl, rounding left from one frieze hall into another. Painted portraits lined the walls of what he considered were the Albionian's idea of great Echidna's of the past. Even a few pure white marble statues martyred noble greats who held pencils, books, and some with the tombs of Aurora and the Ancient Walkers. Passing one portrait of a red echidna, quite old in age, Stenson gave it quick glance and wondered if they wouldn't mind putting one up of Dimitri in the same reverent manner. "The former Grand Marshal would be a fitting addition to the collection," he thought proudly.
"I couldn't find him, Field Marshal," Ell-Tee said after he quickened his march to keep up with Stenson. "I checked the hospital where she was suppose to be, but I couldn't find her or him."
A grumbling sigh. "Just great!"
"He deserves to be AWOL, Stenson. Just let it go," Lar-Na defended with a sneer.
The Field Marshal halted dead and did a quick about face, holding his index finger up as if it were a baton. "I wanted everyone present and accounted for to be here for Rob-O in strength!"
Lar-Na's gentle hand graced his tightened face, cooling his angered thoughts. "You have Vickers, you have Ell-Tee, and you most importantly have me. We will be at your side during this battle of wits with the unarmed. Numbers mean nothing. Use that mind you have and be the cunning diplomat you have been portraying since we landed here."
Stenson took her hand softly, bowed his eyes followed by his head and kissed her on the cheek. "There are days, Lar-Na, you should hold my rank and not I."
Squeezing his hand and clasping it with the other, she said, "And there are days, my love, that I wish you never had it. I have shared your burden every step of the way, and I have grown tired with it, such as I see it in you."
"I have never wished this upon you, Lar-Na," Stenson gloomily whispered. "Why tell me now?"
"Don't trouble yourself with it, Stenson. I've shared the same bed with you over the wonderful years, and I willingly shared the same pain you inflict upon yourself. It's how a good wife rewards her loving and caring husband. When I stop is when you stop."
Stenson looked on into her eyes, feeling her stare reenforce his convictions of the next battle ahead. "On to victory, my Mistress," he stated firmly.
A stiffened back, a crisp about face to the open forum ahead, and a rigid left foot out, Stenson continued the march, his dark cloak gliding behind his cadenced feet. Lar-Na, Vickers and Ell-Tee keeping in step close behind in a scattered formation. Echidna's littered the lavish hall, holding debating discourses seemly to burst the long passage way with sound. Some stopped in mid-converse when the Legionnaires strode by, focused on the blank impassiveness in their demeanor with their shoulders riding high with resolve and pride. Ell-Tee had his black robe on, along with Corporal Vickers, but by request of their Field Marshal, no hoods. Lar-Na's firm figure was traced by her black blouse and matching slacks. Her blue fur groomed to shine in the broken light of the dreary day through the pane windows up high.
Open wooden doors, walnut in stain, offered entrance into the rotunda. Upon the foot of the passageway Stenson was stopped by a grey beared echidna, dressed in grey and blue robes that lingered around his feet, and with a firm, raised palm. "Wait here, sir, for your announcement to the Council. Please, your name and party of which to be announced as, sir?"
"Field Marshal Stenson, I'm here as an envoy to The Legion," Stenson offered with honor.
"The Dark Legion," trumped Lar-Na from beside him, "let them know we aren't a ray of sunshine to the weak."
A guileful smile stretched across Stenson's lips which followed an assuring nod to the foreperson. "What she said, sir."
Turning after regaining his respective thoughts of tranquillity, the foreperson stepped through the archway, inhaled deeply and forced his voice to be heard over the roaring chatter in the rotunda.
"Councilor's of Albion...I present Field Marshal Stenson of the Dark Legion and his accompanied retinue!"
With his bearing locked down, Stenson marched his way through the doors. It seemed as if his scared leather boots were the murderer of sound. A step brought hushed silence inside the wide annular; a second step commanded bewildered, pondering stares to fall from the highest levels of benched seats. The rotunda was an extension to an already commodious building. It housed what Stenson had gathered the bulk of the ruling representatives and government of Albion. Outside it was tall and white, like the name of the city itself, but inside, as he toured the dome, colored in variety. But the rotunda had an abundance of colors that would leave a painter belittled of his own knowledge. The dome was panned in stained-glass, five praying figures of echidna's kneeling around the center piece in reverence, their features splintered in the peaking sunlight from the pregnant rain clouds.
At the far end of the forum was the council, their post behind a stretching, mahogany bench lined with silk white drapes to either side. And from the middle stood Gala-Na, her yellow robe lingering steady around her torso.
"The Council offers their humble welcome to the Dark Legion to this forum."
A female pink echidna with long hair that mixed with her dreads pressed forward to Stenson. "Please sir, follow me to your seats."
Relief came when words were spoken that filled the court, letting Stenson feel somewhat better, however still on edge to get things moving. Following the girl around to the right side of the forum and up six aisles of benches before she extended her arm out to a row that was partially empty., Stenson took his seat by a purple male echidna, who shifted away from him out of respect for personal space. Lar-Na took his side with Ell-Tee sitting next to her followed by Vickers.
The Corporal looked around at the gathered. Five hundred he guessed by the numbers he saw, their gender and fur colors decoratively mixed. Leaning his head over, he spoke into Ell-Tee's ear:
"What 'sup with the Sergeant, Ell-Tee."
The long dreaded Legionnaire's response came in one breath. "The birds and the damn bees, Corporal! Don't concern yourself with him right now. Look sharp and on spot."
Stenson leaned an eye out at Ell-Tee before letting it trace back to his wife. "You see Rob-O and Marie-An among us?" he asked evenly in her ear, wandering his sight around the radius of the forum.
A searching moment passed when she spotted them. "Three-o'clock low."
Stenson followed her directive eyes down four rows and close to the Council itself. He chuckled upon seeing Rob-O had his bow and quiver at his and Marie-An's feet. Dirk didn't look too fond of his surroundings, his hands clasped between his spread open legs, his back hunched forward.
A pounding gavel rang inside the dome, bringing order and silence in an instant which surprised Stenson.
"We are here for this emergency session today on behalf of our neighbors to the Mainland," Gal-Na announced, her high voice echoing through out the chamber. "But first, our formalities to our people and guest."
The formalities happened to be an expensive way of saying role-call. What was more expensive was the time it was taking to get it done. Districts announced their presence with their representative affirming he or she was present with them on the council chair.
Taking the time while still observing the proceedings, Ell-Tee leaned to Lar-Na. "How was the doctor's visit?" he asked.
A light laugh came for the response. "She gave me a lollipop for being a good girl."
"Did she really?" Ell-Tee returned idly.
"It was strawberry, Ell-Tee," she replied gingerly.
He chuckled. "So, all seriousness, Mistress, what did she find out?"
"Well, Doctor Trish-Ha–that was her name right, Stenson?"
The Field Marshal nodded over his pensive stare at the five members of the Council. "Yes, very nice. Very good on her examination."
"She was very thorough, Ell-Tee. Had the stethoscope in all the right places."
"Well, what did she hear?" Vickers interrupted inquisitively.
"Crackles. She said she was worried about it and had me down for X-ray's soon after. Why were a little behind. She's reviewing the examination; said it was going to take her sometime."
Ell-Tee patted her hand in assurance. "Don't let this little soiree keep you from finding out what the heck is wrong with you."
"And you care, Ell-Tee?" Lar-Na put in.
"I care for my Field Marshal's purpose to go home alive and seeing victory on the battlefield. We care for you, ma'am, as much as we care for the guy next to us." On that note he took a mocking side glance at Vickers and returned his eyes to Lar-Na. "Well...maybe just me."
Vickers retorted with a grumble under his breath.
"ALL IS HERE!" relayed the foreperson from the middle of the floor. His slow, spirited voice silenced Ell-Tee and Lar-Na, throwing their attention to Gal-Na, who stood.
"My wonderful citizens of Albion," she proclaimed elegantly, her hands clasped in front of her chest, "our gathering on this grey day, and away from your activities happens to be of great importance. We welcome to this emergency forum our friends and Sentry to the East. Please, Rob-O, Marie-An and Dirk, arise so we can see you."
Eyes fell to the standing, but yet somehow proud resistence fighters even when their fight was falling apart at the seams. The rippling shifts of light from the glass dome was fitting to their embolden demeanor.
"Why does it come to this in the most urgent of times," Stenson observed from his leaning position. Lar-Na snuggled at his hand with her's as if to hold him back...for the moment.
Yanar stood up from a booth holding seven other dignitaries in all, centered to the right of the council and facing towards Stenson. All wore the robes he had come to expect, except one sitting to the far right. The brown echidna had the blue uniform of the Albion Centurions, decorated with the traces of gleaming metals in the raking sunlight, but hardly anything else. It was quite far to see, even to squint.
"Councilors of Albion," the Ambassador announced as he stepped down from the oak-stained booth and took center on the grand marble floor, "as solemn duty that you have bestowed on me, I ask of you to hear out our friends and Sentry to the East and listen to them well, for their trials that they have endured–and I have seen–I assure are things to possibly come if we are not careful."
A male echidna sitting beside Gala-Na spoke, light blue in fur and greying around his brows, beard and natural coat. "That is for us to ascertain, Ambassador," he said in a throaty, shrewd voice.
Grumbles echoed around the chamber, Stenson's own following. "Ascertain."
"Easy, dear," Lar-Na cooed, but still firm in tone.
Two beats of a gavel drowned out the murmuring voices. Gala-Na looked to the echidna beside her. "We are here to listen, Councilor. At least hold an open ear out before succumbing to a conclusion." Placing her hands in front of her, she revealed a disarming smile toward the Mercians. "Rob-O, please. You now have our attention."
The way she said it; gallant with sincerity, added with the most fluent of nods, sent Stenson's apathetic thoughts to the rearmost of his mind, and put his attention to the wind.
And thus, Rob-O the Hedgehog addressed the people who he seemed divined to protect.
"People of Albion...Council of Albion. I have risked my spines, my wife, and my best fighter, who has a family as well, to come and ask of two questions...two simple questions. Why and why now?"–questioning gazes met others beside them, then cast back to the hooded hedgehog. "I know of your technology! I know of your watchful eyes around me!" Rob-O paused to let his hurt, pitched voice fill the rotunda. "But how could you do nothing? How could you do this to me–to my people–a second time while I protect your boarders?...While I let you sleep in peace at night in your warm beds."
"And we thank you for it, Rob-O," stated a feminine red echidna at the far left end of the council's bench. Her robes were yellow as well, but her long locks were fashioned with white ribbons, holding her most outer locks together behind the rest. "I, Gala-Na, and Mykol view your actions and resistence with commendable eyes for keeping our land safe."
"But why haven't you come and aided us, Rita-Li?" Rob-O pleaded. "Why do I have to make my third journey here to ask for help? Why does it have to be this way?"
The council laid silent, each member looking to come up with an answer, hoping it wouldn't offend and cause more harm to Rob-O. The still voices were doing it already for him.
"Yesterday I met an ally," Rob continued on, rounding a presenting arm toward the sitting Dark Legion's direction. "Yesterday this ally I've never heard of, and whom I almost killed for they looked like the machines who dominate my lands, showed more strength to come to my land to see how much suffering we have been living with. Who actually care for our well being! From the looks of it, they're taking a holiday from their war, and then taking another holiday from their's to fight my war. Can you see what you have done? I have no way to repay them for their kind deeds from last night, nor can I repay them for helping me and my Crazy Critters for getting me to speak to you."
"You could have come anytime for us to hear your plight, Rob-O," Gal-Na said in her calm tone.
"And then what...wait to hear you deny my plea for help? How many more slaps does my wife need to send out as messages to get it through to you?"
Gasps and foul and surprised looks lathered the court. It was as if Rob-O had spoken of blasphemy in the holiest of shrines. Adding insult to injury, the aqua hedgehog squirmed a satisfied smirk across his mug at the council itself, then paraded it around the rotunda for all others to see his barbed look. The council laid impassive to it, and it seemed to his words, but the citizens passed their shocked thoughts around in murmurs and snippet quips.
A male echidna, one who looked to be the most intrigued of the five councilors, leaned forward in his chair. His brown fur was groomed well enough to glow in the passing sunlight, dark hair in a wavy comb, and his robs a darker shade of yellow and purple than the others. "I have observed and pleaded to my fellow members on behalf of your trails and tribulations, Rob-O,"–a slow turn of the head brought his uncouth expression to the other four, "but when your troubles do come up, we seem to be more concerned about is how close you have lead the machines to our doorstep. Tell me, Sentry, can you dispel the notion that you are not intentionally bringing them this close so that we have to fight them when they breach our shield?"
A deep breath and a determined, sincere look washed over Rob-O's face. "No, I am not."
Councilor Mykol responded next, his tone demanding. "Then why have you brought them this close?"
"Because we are losing and are falling back to the safest of lands we can find! It won't be long till we are cast into the sea!"
"Does he speak the truth, Wesson?"
The Sergeant didn't register Ames' inquiry at first. His attention was torn between the sleeping girl by his side, wrapped in white sheets to keep her warm on the bed, and the wall T.V. that was projecting Rob-O's dire expression to the four in the recovery room. It was when he saw Car-Le lean forward to him out of the corner of his eye that he realized he was being talked to.
"Say again, sir," he said wearily.
"Does he speak the truth, Wesson?" Ames repeated. "Is it that bad on the mainland."
A shifting nod in Ames' direction, arms clinched tightly across his chest to keep warm. "We busted up a...logistics marshaling zone that held some of his people. I'm not sure where they were going to take them, but I know where they go isn't good. His wife, I think, was with them."
"And you freed them?" Car-Le inquired softly.
"Yes, ma'am, and so did Nata-Le, Craig and Oscar," Wesson replied, his gritty voice even, not filled with triumph which surprised Ames some.
"You seem not to be phased by it," Ames observed.
Wesson took in a deep breath, readying himself to open up to his inner-feelings. "I've been doing this so long, sir, it takes a lot now to get to me. Today though, I got scared."
"Really?" came the soft, concerned reply.
"Yeah...we got real close to getting spotted. Rob-O returned the favor and saved us, though."
"Just so he can plead to us for help?" Car-Le faltered.
Wesson let her question go, deciding it was best to be answered indirectly. "It got close."
From the time it took the council to rally themselves to their questions and when the dull roar of the citizens died, Field Marshal Stenson had sized the battlefield of voices and words to a tactical sense of things. The conclusion; it wasn't faring too well for Rob-O. Gala-Na seemed to be a puppet in certain lights and the ventriloquists so happened to be the people left and right of her, plus the citizens who either had elected her, or maybe the case that she elected herself. He was already disliking Mykol; he was shrewd and set in his convictions that would lead his people to certain defeat and enslavement. Rita-Li reflected naivety but Stenson gathered there was something more under her fur that said guts after adding water. One who seemed not to have any at all, just by her mere silence throughout the whole proceeding, was a female echidna, old in her years and possibly elected just because of it. Her thinning grey hair said senile in her complection and that was what Stenson had gathered about her, making her dangerous just for making uninformed, or worse, arrogant decisions. In the grand summary of them; they looked and acted no more than the religious council back on Angel Island...just with a lot less resolve.
However he saw some hope, and that hope was currently speaking to Rob-O.
"...My district falls on the path to our city, and I have supported countless arguments to put regular defenses and so far it has been done, but minimal from what I have seen. You must understand, Sentry, that our people live in a world of peace, and when one of us brings about words of defense and fortified positions, many of us cower to our safety net, and from what you have spoken, it has become frayed with cuts from the outside."
"But then you have heard my pleas, listened to my report of the bots that searched for me. What happens when they search and they find us here? Then what?" said Rob-O.
"Our Centurions can protect us and throw an assault back out of our City of White," retorted Mykol, his indifferent stare beaming to the blue uniformed Echidna in the adjacent booth.
Vickers only witnessed the nod which spewed his mocking remark that only could be heard by his superiors beside him. "Yeah, right!"
"Corporal..."
Ell-Tee's voice was overlapped by Rob-O's.
"I would put your Centurions to the test any day. And if I may say so, they failed last night."
"Failed?" festered Mykol. "I'd say they did pretty good for the numbers they had and the ill training in the barbaric ways of the offense."
"A girl was wounded in the easiest of ambushes. With the superior weaponry you have over us, it should have never happened."
"It should have never happened to begin with. Our Centurions are not to leave the safety of the shield unless with a deliberated consensus with the council, for which none was held." Mykol eyes left Rob-O's and searched out Yanar's. "Our Ambassador to the outside world has took it upon himself to start his own war." A glance to his left visibly grabbed Gala-Na's eyes in fright of a scolded kid. "Councilor Gala-Na, did you authorize this little 'hunting party' to go out?"
"I did not, councilor Mykol," she answered defensively.
"Then our wounded keeper of the peace, which has quite possibly alienated her from her friends and family just on the count of losing her arm–praise Aurora not her life–falls on the shoulders of Ambassador Yanar."
The male Councilor on the far right rose to Yanar's defense. "Don't go off blaming about hollow things on people who only mean to do good!"
Again, the court filled to the brink with disarranged voices before the councilmen's counter could be heard. This time, the council itself joined in the fracas until Gala-Na let her gavel slam out the call to order. When the chamber became quiet at last, she spoke in her calm, diplomatic way.
"Rob-O, we understand what you have been going through–"
"Oh, really? Thou's people haven't begun to see the surface of my suffering and pain because I can't protect my own people, much less yours," came the hedgehog's snide retort.
"We are willing to look into the matter now that it is really at our attention, Rob-O but we have to hear our own people and their synapsis if we have the strength and material to help you without causing our downfall." Gala-Na rested her eyes to the long desk in search of her next train of thoughts before leveling her eyes back to Rob-O. "We have to have a consensus, Rob-O. You must give us time so when we make our decision, it will benefit all."
"I don't have time for deliberations, Gala-Na!" Rob-O scoffed, infuriated. "I barely had time for this circus!"
"It's all we ask right now, Rob-O–"
"And I say make a snap decision for once in your pathetic lives and take it as it comes!"
Gasping and searing stares focused to the upper left of the rotunda. Lar-Na never looked, even when the corner of her eyes witnessed the black sheet of her husband standing and thundering his voice to the ears of the court. In turn she smiled inwardly, keeping her dark, cool self present on the outside. And as if it was drilled into them, Ell-Tee and Vickers let there faces glow rigid in expression, becoming hard to read for some, but ominous to a lot of others.
Stenson stood for only a few moments at a honor filled attention before taking the first steps to climb down the rows of benches to the marble floor, caring not if he pushed anyone out of his way.
Mykol eyes glistened with a silent rage which followed Stenson through his journey to the open floor. "Taking it as it comes without the proper planning, sir, is suicide."
"And you are shooting yourselves now just by your inactions to aid your allies," came Stenson's firm response.
"Field Marshal Stenson," announced Gala-Na, "please wait till we call you to address your concerns–"
"Council Women, I like Rob-O have no time to wait for a group of pacifists to make the known decision to go to war, or at least conduct any type of action that is militarily effective."
Touching down on the floor, Stenson marched his way to the side of Rob-O, towering over him as if he were a black shield to protect against angered gods and goddesses. When the silent gazes of the council and the whole court were solidly upon him, he reverted to his commanding voice that many Dark Legionnaires have known to respect and fear in the same breath, and energized it with a deep breath.
"You are the worst example of a governmental body I have ever laid eyes upon. Asking the one who protects you to wait as youmake a decision to go to war...You are already at war. Are you so blinded by your shield that you can't see this. As soon as you are found, there is no stopping Eggman and his machines." Turning away from the council, he spoke his next string of truth to the people of Albion itself. "I know this...for my home is under his collective thumb and strengthened with the Dingoes."
"And what have you done to repeal them, Field Marshal," asked the councilman to the far right.
Stenson shifted around to the council, letting his cloak waft behind him without his resistence. "Force on force and as much of it as we can manage. You see, we don't have the privilege of having a capital we can call home, a well supplied military, and most important, supplies to keep our citizens fed and sheltered. You are abundant with what I so wish to have. And you have the means to carry out operations just by the mere shadow you have yourself surrounded by."
"But if we do anything of that nature...if we leave the shield continuously, we could lead them right to here," put in the elder of the three councilwomen.
Mykol was quick to put in his reasoning. "And you could have brought them here just because you wanted to fight someone else's war. What if Eggman followed you here, discovered people disappearing into the sea? What then, Field Marshal?"
"I would have taken control of the situation–"
"Oh...and you to instigate a coup' to take control of our Centurions to fight. Tell me, Field Marshal, do you practice anything resembling a chain-of-command in your Legion?"
Stenson held his tongue, admiring Mykol's blustering tongue in the same time frame and considered if he should threaten him and the gathered citizens of Albion. But he digressed on that idea. Over the years, wars, and experience that came from them, Field Marshal Stenson of the Dark Legion, promoted through the ranks with blood and diligently mixed with his own blood, never gave the notion of threatening people nor enemies. The concept he held strayed back to his early training and thus how the Legion now trains their troopers. You don't unholster your pistol unless you intend to use it; never brandish. If you hold a rifle, you never hold it in an aggressive manner. A tactical rest, diagonal across your chest, finger off the trigger unless you will use it.
And thus the weapon he had in his head, one of great terror to the people of naivety, was sitting at his fingertips. To speak to use it was his quiz. When he side glanced at Rob-O and then to his wife Marie-An and Dirt, their faces fiery in a lonely light, his test was an open book. And so he unsnapped his holster, his voice chambering in a deep tone, filled it with an ominous mirth but seemingly serious all the same.
"I do have a chain of command and be warned I'm not at the height of it."
The feed back was expected; blank but listening. Placing both hands behind at the small of his back, he brushed his cloak around in the same movement, paced stealthily in a small ring, kept his eyes to the council, and continued. "I understand...that you cultivated the option to kill the Guardian Knuckles?"–loud oohs in snide tones filled the air; the council emotionless and staring hard at Stenson. "Well, I have planned two operations to kill him twice, and the rest of the Guardians once. And in a way, I did put my physical hands in the doings. Once we had tried to put ourselves in power in a legal way when in fact it wasn't. In doing, we needed to kill the Guardians for our rise to power to be a success. And in doing, we had to turn a coucil-member in Echidnolopis into a machine for our bidding. He's dead now because of it. And do we care?" Stenson squinted his right eye as if was musing before he answered his own question...never flexing his voice to show remorse. "No.
"My second operation and plan was to put a well placed plasma bolt to his head along with his equal, Julie-Su. Needless to say that didn't workout either."
"And how did you view the Guardian Knuckles to be dangerous?" Gala-Na asked, her elbows anchored to the bench, her hands supporting her chin.
"Only that he could stop us in our pursuit for technocracy and to free the people of Angel Island from the Stone-age."
"So you were out to kill him to–"
"To get him out of the way and settle a long standing feud that reins in one family," Stenson finished dryly.
And with that, he snapped around to the booth holding Yanar and the other Echidna's that held importance to Albion, and there he leveled his knifed hand at the Centurion. "You...you look to be the commander of your all's beloved Centurions. What is your rally cry?"
Without a moments hesitation, the Centurion stood-up with pride. "To keep the peace and protect our humbled city!"
Stenson looked to him in bemused inquire. "Is that all?...It makes me feel all warm inside, much less instill the fear of death in me." He turned to the rear, looked to his wife, Ell-Tee, and Corporal Vickers with selfless honor and shouted loudly so the rotunda could echo his voice. "LEGION!"
The three in black stood immediately to a strict attention. "HAIL DIMITRI! HAIL TO THE GRAND MARSHAL! LET NOTHING RESIST US!"
Turning to the council, Stenson cocked his head ever so slightly, and let his voice become demented to a small degree. "Our cry can tremble the simplest of mindless bots, while yours' can only make me laugh.
"But back to your original question councilman Mykol," Stenson said, his body and voice becoming stern. "I do have a chain-of-command, and like I said before, I am not at the height of it. In a way I have promised Gala-Na that I wouldn't let Albion be known to my superiors, and I do plan to keep my word unless this injustice still stands by the time I part for the open waters and venture back home–"
"Sir, we ask for no trouble," came Gala-Na hastily.
"Oh...Councilwoman, it is not up to me on that angle, but more up to Kommissar. You see, when I return back to Angel Island, I will no longer be the superior Legionnaire, but in fact I will be under command of a very ill-tempered woman who doesn't care if she kills or not to get her way. There are few of us in small, sulking circles that suspect she and her brother killed their father and step-mother so they could regain power back to kill the Guardians and cease the pacifism my former Grand Marshal was starting to preach..." Letting his voice deliberately trail, he took in a steady breath and twisted his face in a look showing that he was perplexed. "And all I have to do is let my moral turpitude that my former Grand Marshal had birthed in me, to diminish to the full ways of the Dark Legion and let slip my travels to Albion."
"FIELD MARSHAL STENSON!" Gala-Na festered abruptly, calling on her legs and arms to propel her up to the dome.
He ignored it and pursued on with the coming ultimatum. "And there is a possibility that I may return, not with refugees that I so wish for you and Rob-O to protect, but with a full regiment–if we can muster one–of Dark Legionnaires and me returning as a subordinate, and Lien-Da in full command and full reign to do as she so wishes. You see, Lien-Da is very cunning and has a fetish for violence. One that even my wife cannot compete with."
A curt silence lingered in the air, the council studying Stenson; Stenson doing likewise.
"And so the choice I present to you. Do you dispose of you inaction-ways and give aid and comfort to your beaten neighbors to the East?...Or do you neglect in your decision to help and I come back and force you to with the promise of enslavement. You have a well motivated force--I respect their pride they seem to hold--and your technology you have created and possess can easily gain a foothold on the mainland."
"But Field Marshal Stenson," offered Rita-Li. "I must profess but even if we do decide to take strong action against Eggman and his machines, Chief Gammon will concur with me that our Centurions cannot conduct such offensive action and be successful."
"I promise you, Council of Albion that when I do return with more of my suffering people, I will be back to help train your Centurions just as this Councilman here has proposed."
"And of us, Stenson?" quipped Rob-O.
The Field Marshal glanced to the aqua hedgehog with a comforting nod. "Either way how they decide, I will be back to help you...on my own if I have to while I am here. I'll even bring logistics to help you."
"And thus, you won't care for us?" quizzed Mykol.
"It won't be me who will be caring for you."
Gala-Na let out an audible sigh that called for calmness and silence to the floor. "We will convene with your thoughts, Field Marshal. Our collective heads will reach a decision before you–"
"Ma'am, you owe it to Rob-O and your people to make it now! In fact, why don't you let your people voice the decision themselves?"
"Because we are a democracy, Mr. Stenson," replied the Councilman to the right.
"Democracy?...You are more like a representive body and the people who elected you are at your mercy. If you say you are a democracy, then let the mob vote; let them make the choice." And on that, Stenson cut a ring in the floor and letting his eyes and head flow over the gathered Echidna's of Albion. "I think it is fitting that the subjects choose their route. After all, it is the council, now, deciding weather you will live free, or die and become enslaved by my Brethren. Your wonderful Centurions. I'm sad to say they will all perish if I came back and Kommissar is the one commanding me."
Voices, trembled in one aspect while others were engrossed with fear, wreaked the open fora. Upon hearing this, Stenson twisted a smile, one resembling victory but the factor was still far removed. "It seems fear has drawn the pessimism out. I hope you all are listening to your peoples concerns..."
Her weak breath of air called Wesson's eyes to her still body. Nata-Le was awakening from the hypnotic sojourn of her life. A succeeding breath muted all sound from his ears, drowning out the dull roar of the television. He started evenly, thinking vacant thoughts that he wished had meaning, watching her chest rise and fall under the white sheet, and tracing the oxygen cord up to her nostrils.
And why? Why did he stare at her while Nata-Le's parents had more right to watch over her with concerned eye?
"Why do I fear for you..."
With his natural voice trailing, one he only hears in his mind and not through his vocal chords, the fear he felt and the questions he let plague his mind answered themselves over the pain of his physical well-being and that of his emotional.
He felt concerned. One filled with fear for her which, even with this realization, he still couldn't reason why he felt it, and now all at once.
The sound of Gala-Na's gavel was like a crude knock that overpowered an everlasting daydream. Wesson stiffened his folded arms and fixed his gaze back to the television. The camera had Stenson centered in the frame, Rob-O only visible behind him and not by much. Wesson held his breath as he could tell Stenson was holding his as he stood erect like a steal column. He'd seen this before with him, awaiting orders or a suggestion from either other leaders of the Legion, or Kommissar herself. Wesson could pick out the apprehension in the Field Marshal just by seeing the light stammer of his lips. And with it, his fear was emboldened.
The Field Marshal never plays with threats...what he says is his word.
"Field Marshal Stenson, Rob-O the Hedge; our indebted Sentry." It was Gala-Na's voice, Wesson guessing right as the camera panned to her. "As you say, the both of you have little time for deliberation from us. From you valiant words, I concur with this. But I am only one of five who does hold the life of our people and from what I have listened, those beyond our boarders.
"Councilman Mykol, what say you?"
The camera shifted sightly and zoomed in. Mykol was visibly shaken, however one had to look hard enough to see it. His pause was ensued by a glance to the papers on the desk, and then to Stenson and Rob-O before he spoke.
"Field Marshal of the Dark Legion, if we agree to help, will you comeback as you said, and help?"
A change of camera from the other side of the chamber brought Stenson's left side into view. "My experience with the best laid plans falling apart and going to waste beckons me to give no promise. But I will give my total all to comeback and bring what is needed to support the defense and subsequent offensive operations to the mainland and of your boarders."
"Then with my reluctancy and fear that all we are doing is putting ourselves in mortal danger, I side with Rob-O to aid," proclaimed Mykol, with that reluctancy ever present in his voice.
A nod from Gala-Na and a shift of her head to the left. "Deni-Se, what say you?" she asked the older Echidna female.
"I'm with Councilor Mykol, but I do proclaim my protest of the handling of Field Marshal Stenson and giving us his bold ultimatum to strong-arm our ways and culture to do something we are not fit for, nor have we proceeded down to this low point to do. I hope your bold and daring threats satisfies you, for they haven't satisfied me, Field Marshal."
"I'm not here for popularity, ma'am. Where I see fit for my promises and not my threats is for those who have been burdened with oppression and the fear of death to have a glimmer of hope from those who can help the most. Councilor, mark my words...Who Dares, wins.'"
One snap close up of Deni-Se's indifferent posture was suddenly switched to Gala-Na's impassive face. "Councilor Patrick, what say you?"
The Echidna from the far right stood up, steading himself over his fisted knuckles on the bench in front of him.
"I express no malice in my decision but, except, for those who express it for their own. I am a firm believer that we should have done something from the beginning of this vast atrocity, and I am sickened that it took an ultimatum of this magnitude to scare us straight."–a quick breath lowed the venom in his voice. "I stand with Rob-O and the Field Marshal. Please sir, return to us and give your knowledge of combat to us."
Stenson bowed his head as the councilor took his seat. It was now up to the last Councilor now, Wesson taking a side glance at Car-Le and Ames. They stood beside him, the faces mixed with quizzical looks and heightened anxiety at the television.
"Councilor Rita-Li, what say you?"
The camera panned to the left, focusing on the elegant red echidna woman at the end of the bench.
"We have no choice in the matter. The only route that I see is the safest way is to aid Rob-O at our fullest."
"Then it is unanimous," Gala-Na stated. "Rob-O, with what we have, we will aid you as much as we can. We, however, will still be frugal in our presence to the outside world so as to not compromise our sanctuary."
"Gala-Na, I hope to Aurora you can keep yourselves a secret for that is how my people are to survive from here on out," replied the hedgehog with a hint of excited pride in his voice and posture.
"Then consider us as your ally. The council has made it's decision!"
Before the gavel dropped, before the first muffled murmurs could become the roar that was soon to follow, Car-Le turned to Ames from the screen and bared to him a look of fright of which Wesson was sharing deep down inside.
"Does this mean we're going to war, Ames?"
Wesson never gave Ames the chance to answer. "Yes. And you can count on the Field Marshal to aid and supply..."
Letting his voice trail, the Legionnaire focused on the television set hanging from the ceiling once more. A whisper from Stenson to Rob-O's ear sent a sickening, churning anxiety from his nerves to his stomach. And from his bawls came a voice that shouted out to him with anger and vengeance that he swore he would never himself say, much less think it as he stared hard at Stenson on the monitor.
"I'M NOT GOING OUT!"
The close of the session brought handshakes, nods, some thanks, and a few tempered remarks to Stenson. He smiled through it all, mostly to show he was kind and cordial, and in the back of his head, that he had won for the sake of Rob-O. For every chance he found victory, even if it was a fight with Lar-Na, he savored it. Finding it now in the chaos of war on the Island was very slim and the foe wasn't as cunning as the Guardian, which was the travesty he viewed it as.
Of the fifteen minuets it took to chauffeur them to the north end of the city he and Lar-Na rode in silence in the pearl hover-limo. The rain had returned with the gentle gale from the sea, changing the white city into a pale-grey glaze, and Stenson was captivated even with the ill sight the whole way.
The waiting room in the lobby of Doctor Trish-Ha wasn't as crowded as before, and the prolonged wait as before elapsed rather quickly. None of it really bothered Stenson. Time was becoming short and Rob-O still had to be escorted back through Deer Wood Forest. Hopefully that was being taken care of with Ell-Tee looking for Wesson at the hospital. And yet, he still wasn't bothered by it.
What made him worry was his new surroundings. This time he and Lar-Na weren't ushered to an examination room. They sat idly in two leather chairs, his elbows perched on the arm rests and his fingers interlaced below his chin, straying his eyes from the open curtain window to Lar-Na sitting to his left. He briefly smiled, doing so not to show his worry–which was probably nothing anyways–and to strengthen her pride in him. From the eyeing she was giving him, someone else was going to be on watch for the last leg of the cruise.
"I worry, Stenson," she said suddenly, her face going even just as quick.
"About what, dear?" he replied, wondering and fearing what she would say; hoping it wasn't about her health.
"About Rob-O and the Centurions. I worry that by the time we return that we will be too late. That they will get compromised."
A slow nod affirmed his worries of her observation as well. "I've instructed Yanar not to do anything big and drastic until I have returned. Mostly to keep tabs on Rob-O and supply him."
"And if they get compromised by the time we do comeback. You of all people know that anything can happen in war. 'What can go wrong, will.'"
"Why I love you, Lar-Na. You keep me on my toes and at my wits." A sighing bow to his fingers helped to calm his wavering thoughts. "I have considered this, and my continency is–I'm sad to say–is to wait and see. We could be walking back to open arms, or we could be walking to our deaths. Either way we do our duty to these people...And that means we lie to Lien-Da if we so have to."
"Well then Field Marshal...I say our mission has become a success," Lar-Na said lavishly.
"Not quite. I promised Rob-O a little favor I would do for him in keeping Albion safe upon our return–"
"You're not?" Lar-Na trumped.
"We are. That port is a target of military value and I want it taken out for their sake. Those damn machines almost killed us and who knows how many they will kill if they get reactivated." Stenson brought his deadpan face to his wife's. "We have the armament to do the job, we are light, and we can steam away before they have a chance to retaliate."
"That's a bit bold, Stenson," Lar-Na said. "We don't have a Guardian to teleport us to safety."
"We let the rain be our cover. The forecast is in our favor for this, and Lar-Na, we need to do this. Our guns can reach the port and still be far enough out not to be seen."
Lar-Na slowly shook her head under a firm face. "I still think it is bold, Stenson."
"And I agree with you, Lar-Na, but it has to be--"
The sound of the door opening and a red furred echidna, her stringy hair brushed equally over her dreads, and her white doctor's coat waving behind, entered with a folder firmly in her hand. Doctor Trish-Ha, family physician for over twelve years, traveled the floor with her eyes falling to Lar-Na then to Stenson, that iced an ashen fear through his veins.
"Afternoon, Doctor," he greeted dryly, seeing the expression she had was one that he had sported once before...and it wasn't good.
And she said nothing. And she didn't plop herself behind her desk in her stately leather chair. Instead, she centered herself between Lar-Na and Stenson on her desk, the folder hovering over her bent knees.
For Lar-Na, she disregard Trish-Ha's and her husbands looks to each other. "So am I going to need steroids to kill the inflamation?"
When Trish-Ha answered, after a long pause, the subject was changed with her own question. "How long have you been coughing blood, ma'am?" she inquired with pinched lips and a twitching eye.
"Um...it was only today," Lar-Na said, stammering for an excuse which she knew wasn't impressing Stenson. "I know I should have seen a doctor about this for sometime now, but I never thought a simple bronchitis would come to this–"
"It's not bronchitis, Lar-Na."
Trish-Ha let her eyes drift back and forth between Lar-Na and Stenson.
There was something in her posture; the slight lean, the slow exhales, the calm before the storm. And seeing this, observing this once before on Wesson's injured behalf, sent a colder chill down Stenson's back and over every fiber of his body...knowing it involved his wife. Stenson now didn't want to hear it, becoming timid and vastly afraid in the same instant.
"Lar-Na...Stenson. I'm..." Trish-Ha took a breath, looked to the ceiling and then brought her conviction filled eyes to the husband and wife for over twenty years. "You have cancer in the lungs, Lar-Na, and it is rapidly spreading. I'm afraid our treatment options will only prolong your discomfort."
"You mean you can't FIX this?" Stenson growled.
He was about to release more of his frustrations when Lar-Na reached over and grabbed his hand. Her face was filled with an anguishing terror that he felt, and cowered his head to his chest, realizing his outburst wasn't helping.
"You have all this technology, and you can't stop this?" he returned, calmer...guilty.
Trish-Ha let her voice stand as the apology. "If we had examined her months earlier, we could have done something, but her case has progressed in stages that in all my years and even our lab-techs, we haven't seen. It could be genetics. It could be conditions you have lived in...but my medical observations say, it's genetics."
The room went darker in silence; the pounding rain on the window adding to the depression. A moment passed, maybe longer, and Lar-Na had had enough of the still air.
"Thank-you, doctor."
In her years as a practicing physician, Trish-Ha knew when the cue to leave was announced from a patient. And she did so, silently closing the door behind her.
Twisting to Stenson, Lar-Na let out a sigh. Then she forced out another, it filled with anger. And in succession she found the strength to let one more pass that brought on her tears. "I should have listened, Stenson!" she bit in anger at herself. "I should have listened to you instead wasting our time with excuses–"
"Lar-Na, stop it!" Stenson said in a firm plea.
"I should've..." Lar-Na struck her leg with a fist before letting her posture dwindle to the floor.
Stenson wasn't going to have none of it; shooting himself up from his chair and scrambling to Lar-Na, who by the time he reached her was engulfed in her tears and grabbing at her face. He didn't let her work her head up to gaze at him, kneeling to her instead and fishing for her freehand with both of his.
"Don't place the blame with you, Lar-Na," he offered in a firm, but caring tone.
"Why...if I had done what my loving husband had asked instead of letting my defiance–"
Stenson inched himself closer to Lar-Na's freshly cherried face. "I married you for your defiance. I fell in love with you for your cold shoulders to me, Lar-Na," Stenson said, managing a smile to calm her.
"But I have taken you away from me, my love."
Her guilty stare made Stenson squeeze his and her hand, hoping to overpower her glare to something they could both relate to.
"The war's not over...we can fight this."
"And fight two...now three?" she shrilled.
"I can cry out in defeat to help you win this. You are my wife and I will use every muscle and every span of time I have to help you through this. No damn wars are going to stop me from saving my guiding light."
Lar-Na let a moment pass with her eyes growing firm.
Stenson didn't like it.
"I don't want my Field Marshal to go to the depths of defeat."
"Lar-Na," Stenson sputtered in protest, "you are not under my command. You are my wife, and I will hear nothing of this–"
"No, Stenson. You will. I didn't marry a coward...I married a warrior and if my last breath on this world is to lay silent so I can hear you cry victory, then so be it Stenson I will. No treasure will be worth more than that." –A curt inhale strengthened her eyes into his. "You will not surrender; I will not"...cough... "let it happen!"
And with that, she silenced any notion of a reply from her equal and embraced him on the floor.
Stenson stroked her locks, her biological and cybernetics; letting his angered eyes surrender to tranquillity then to aghast sadness. His love...his motivation through all his life was dying from something he had absolutely no control of. And to a warrior, it was criminal.
"Stenson..." whispered Lar-Na in a dry whimper. "I've seen many horrors with you. I have always had my fears with Lien-Da taking you away from me, and I have faced death at the end of blasters.
"But now...I'm scared, Stenson...I'm really scared."
He let in a quivering breath on his wife's words, tightening his embrace as he let it out.
"...I am too."
Well, this is it for sometime. Will update when I can, but it might be till November, but I shall play catch up and give you all things to keep occupied with. Again, thanks for the reviews, Sara and RadRed, and for your time.
Next: Aleutian...and Emi-La working together.