The first rays of the morning suns crept over the jagged rubble of Urden on Talar. I stood atop a ruined watchtower, scanning for any movement among the stars. Adjusting the straps on my vest, I meticulously checked each weapon, feeling the familiar weight and cold metal in my hands. My breath was visible in the frigid morning air, each exhale a small cloud dissipating into the vastness. I pulled my scarf tighter, folding it over and under my vest, trying to ward off the biting chill.
"~The council is ready for ~" a voice crackled through my earpiece, the static a harsh reminder of our precarious existence.
"Soren, I told them to wait," I replied, my voice carrying a mix of impatience and determination as I descended the rungs of a rusted ladder with practiced ease.
I ran across the ruins of my home, jumping over rubble and crouching beneath rebar. Each step was a painful reminder of what we had lost and what we fought for. Eventually, I saw the old monastery, almost complete in an ironic dichotomy. The sun caught the edge of its former steeple at the perfect angle, casting a halo of light around the corners of the tower. For a brief moment, it looked almost holy, a beacon of hope amidst the devastation. I jumped into a hole in the sidewalk, twisting through several layers of debris and destruction before finding several lights marking an entrance.
Left. Right. Down. Left. Down. Left. Right. Down. Right. Up. Three more rights, several more layers down, and a retinal identification scan allowed me to enter the door to the Cauldron.
We called it that because it's where we all stewed, gambits and ploys bubbling and bursting in cosmic instants. The meal of rebellion was always cooking here, a constant simmer of strategy and defiance.
My headquarters was hidden beneath the ruins of the old monastery, obscured by both physical and metaphorical means. The tyrants would never believe a religious institute capable of matching their science; in addition, a labyrinth of tunnels and traps protected our base, where gambits and ploys were hatched to cripple the worst state imaginable.
Navigating the narrow passages, I nodded to the familiar faces I passed—fighters, medics, engineers. Each nod was a silent acknowledgment of our shared struggle. We all stood united under the banner of revolution. Each face told a story of resolve, sacrifice, and unyielding determination. I could see the weariness in their eyes, but also the flicker of hope that refused to be extinguished.
Soren greeted me with a nod. "We've intercepted something big," he said, his tone grave.
I raised an eyebrow. "What is it?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. He handed me a datapad.
"The Bastard of The Vanguard is retiring?" I asked, scanning the information, disbelief and cautious optimism mingling in my voice.
"Seems so," Soren confirmed, his expression mirroring my own mix of emotions.
"How long?" I pressed, needing to understand the urgency.
"Doesn't matter," he replied, shaking his head slightly. "Phulnos is the likely replacement."
"Oh, thank the great truth," I muttered, relief washing over me. It was a rare stroke of luck, and we needed all we could get.
The council chamber was dimly lit, the only light coming from a series of well-worn projectors and spatial displays. Numerous wealthy and impoverished, courageous and cunning, young and old members of high command conversed among themselves until I assumed the podium. Everyone was etched with fatigue, the burden of our cause heavy on their shoulders.
All the members turned to me, their eyes expectant, searching for direction and hope.
"This will be a great opportunity. Maybe we can save Draconis—maybe all of Orion," I began, my voice steady despite the gravity of our situation. "Karisth," I called out, turning to my strategist, "when Phulnos moves up, who will be the next Lieutenant there?"
"Likely to be Corporal Tex, Bundd, Xaryonix, or Galen, based on personal favorability and career record," Karisth responded, scrolling through a list on the projector.
"Any of those good for our use?" I asked, each name a potential ally or obstacle.
"Well, Galen would be especially not good for our use," Karisth noted, a hint of worry in his voice.
I pondered for several minutes, swiping through the profile images of each candidate, weighing the potential benefits and risks. The room was silent, everyone waiting for my decision.
"No matter who. We have to try. Have Tiberius establish the false G.O.D. center on Prime," I finally decided, my voice firm.
"It will be done," Soren acknowledged, his voice steady and resolute.
"On another matter," Soren continued, pointing to a map on the projector, "we've identified a weak point in their supply chain. A solar-depot on the outskirts of the Canis sector. It's lightly guarded, but heavily stocked. If we hit it hard, we can cripple their advance in the Virgo region."
I studied the proposal, already working through the connotations. My mind raced with strategies and counter-strategies, the potential impact of this strike enormous.
"Ready a team," I ordered, the decision firm in my mind.
The council meeting concluded with a mix of nods and murmurs of agreement. As I stepped down from the podium, the members began to disperse, their conversations subdued but focused.
I made my way through the narrow passages, my thoughts consumed by the weight of the decisions we had made. As I navigated the labyrinth of tunnels, I felt a presence behind me. Turning a corner, I felt a tap on my shoulder, his expression serious.
"Byrne!" he called out, his voice low but insistent.
"Byrne.... One last thing," Soren added, his tone uncharacteristically hesitant.
I stopped, the echo of his voice bouncing off the walls.
"Soren, what is it?" I asked, though I could already sense the gravity of his concern.
He approached me, his brow furrowed.
He said, glancing around to ensure we were alone. "It's about Eden."
I sighed, leaning against the cold, rough wall of the tunnel. "What about it?"
"We are close, but Byrne... Couldn't we wait? Maybe just a few years. This cannot be necessary."
"Stop?" I interrupted, "You think we can just stop? After everything they've taken?"
I turned to face him, my expression hardening. The question hung in the air.
"We cannot stop. Not until they do," I replied. "Not until we free everyone."
Soren fell silent. He reached out, gripping my arm.
"And what if they never stop? What if Eden fails? What if this loop never ends?"
I met his gaze, my resolve unwavering. "Then we challenge them until we have all died trying. We owe it to everyone who's fallen, everyone who believes."
Soren released my arm, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I just… I hope you're right, Byrne. I really do."
I turned to leave, the weight of his words pressing down on me. "So do I, Soren. So do I."