The grand hall of the Cosmic Alliance was filled with a tense, charged silence as Xelari stood before the assembly. The dim lighting cast long shadows on the gleaming marble floors, the weight of the meeting palpable in the air. Dressed impeccably, Xelari's eyes scanned the room, his gaze both commanding and enigmatic, locking with key planetary representatives as he began to speak.
"Members of the Supreme Council," he started, his voice smooth yet powerful. "It is with a heavy heart that I stand before you today. The kingdom of Cryonax has suffered an unspeakable tragedy. King Varro, along with the entire royal household, has been murdered." Gasps rippled through the hall. Xelari raised a hand to silence them. "The whereabouts of Queen Varra and their two young princes remain unknown. In addition, there have been multiple casualties at the prison facility, and I regret to inform you that one of our best covert operatives has been killed in the line of duty. These heinous acts were orchestrated by none other than General Rylor's son-Tharok."
The revelation struck the chamber like a blow. Representatives whispered among themselves, but Xelari pressed on, his tone steely.
"The crimes of the Vymorn family are no longer isolated. Their actions have repeatedly endangered the Cosmic Alliance. From Jarek Vymorn's betrayals to this most recent atrocity, we have seen their treachery firsthand. This is why I propose that General Rylor, effective immediately, steps down from the Supreme Council and relinquishes his command over the Alliance's military."
The tension in the room peaked. Many of the representatives nodded, some speaking in agreement. Xelari continued, "It is in the best interest of the Alliance that General Rylor also be removed as a planetary representative. The influence of the Vymorn family has become too great a risk."
The planetary representatives exchanged glances, and one by one, the votes fell in Xelari's favor. His arguments were too strong, too logical to dismiss. Even those previously loyal to Rylor could not ignore the facts laid bare before them.
Chancellor Aralyn, seated at the head of the council, leaned forward, her expression solemn. "The votes have been counted. By majority decision, General Rylor is hereby removed from his position within the Supreme Council and stripped of his military command."
A murmur of approval swept through the hall. Xelari stood, his presence magnetic as he bowed slightly toward the Chancellor. "I thank the council for their wisdom."
Chancellor Aralyn's gaze shifted toward General Rylor, her tone formal. "General, you have the floor to speak."
General Rylor rose from his seat, his face as unreadable as stone. He stepped forward, casting a heavy shadow across the room. His voice was calm, though a deep sorrow undercut his words.
"I accept the decision of this council," Rylor said, his eyes scanning the room. "What my family has done is unforgivable. I apologize, not just to this council, but to the entire Cosmic Alliance. I will make it my mission to see those responsible-Tharok, Jarek, and anyone else-brought to justice."
But Xelari, standing tall, interrupted with a cold smile. "General, with all due respect, you are no longer in a position to make promises on behalf of the Alliance. This council has spoken, and you are to have no further involvement in our matters. Your time in this chamber is done."
Rylor's eyes locked with Xelari's, and though his lips remained tight, there was a flicker of acknowledgment. Without a word, he turned and bowed to Chancellor Aralyn. With her subtle nod, she allowed him to excuse himself.
As General Rylor walked down the grand corridor toward the exit, the weight of his fall from grace pressing on his shoulders, he saw Gaelon standing near the doorway, grief heavy on his features. The memory of Nadira's death, the blood on the ground, replayed in his mind like a curse.
Rylor paused, his voice breaking through the silence. "Gaelon... I am deeply sorry for your loss."
Gaelon didn't respond. His eyes were red, raw with emotion, but he remained silent, his grief too deep to put into words.
Rylor, understanding the silence, gave a final nod and quietly excused himself from the grand hall, the door closing behind him with an echoing finality.
×××××××××××
The night had fully settled over the raider camp, a thick blanket of darkness broken only by the dim flicker of campfires and the eerie glow of the two moons above. Ethan and Visar remained bound to the wooden post, their wrists aching from the ropes that held them tight. The surrounding trees rustled with the movement of Orion Prime's nocturnal wildlife, creatures whose eyes glinted in the distance, making the tension in the air even more palpable.
Visar, always quick with an observation, let out a quiet chuckle. "I think your new friend has taken a liking to you," he said, nodding toward the camp leader's pet, which had been circling Ethan for some time now.
Ethan grimaced, glancing down at the creature. Its fur was rough and dark, its eyes a strange mix of curiosity and menace. The creature gave a low growl, but it wasn't hostile-more like an odd form of affection.
"Great," Ethan muttered sarcastically. "As if being tied to a post wasn't bad enough, now I've got a drooling watchdog." The creature huffed and sniffed at his leg. "And its breath stinks."
Visar grinned. "You always were good with animals."
Before Ethan could respond, the raider leader returned. Her silhouette was sharp against the firelight, her expression twisted into a mocking sneer as she approached, the same loyal pet trailing behind her. The young leader, clearly proud of her command over the camp, crossed her arms and looked between them.
"I see you've won over my beast," she said, her tone dripping with disdain. "Too bad it won't help you escape. Alliance scumbags."
She crouched down, her eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of their predicament. "Still, you should be grateful. At least one of you might make it through the night without getting eaten alive by something else out here."
Ethan shot a glance at Visar, who rolled his eyes. "Lucky me," Ethan muttered under his breath.
The leader noticed and jeered again. "You think this is funny?" she spat. "I've seen your kind-military rejects, more mouth than skill. You think the Alliance needs you here on Orion Prime? You're nothing but a problem we never asked for."
Ethan remained silent, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of a retort. She continued pacing, her pet still close by Ethan's side, almost as if it had chosen him as its new master. The raider leader took note of the odd bond, her eyes narrowing.
"This thing likes you, doesn't it?" she remarked, a slight smirk curling her lips. "Pity. I thought it had better taste."
She signaled the camp's cook with a flick of her hand. The smell of something savory drifted through the air as the cook appeared, carrying a pot of steaming stew. Ethan's stomach growled involuntarily, and Visar's mouth practically watered at the sight.
The leader turned to the cook, gesturing towards the captives. "Feed them. They'll need the strength for the journey ahead."
As the cook approached with the bowls, Visar shifted slightly, testing the ropes on his wrists. "Unless you plan on feeding us yourself," he said, looking directly at the leader, "you'll have to untie us."
The leader's eyes flicked to Visar, her expression instantly hardening. She paused for a moment, her lips curving into a cruel smile. "You're right," she said slowly, her voice dripping with mockery. "I would have to untie you, wouldn't I?"
Then, with a sharp gesture, she waved the cook away. "On second thought, let them starve. Return the food."
Visar groaned as the cook obediently turned around and walked away, the smell of the stew disappearing into the camp along with the meal they would no longer have.
"Nice going," Ethan grumbled, giving Visar a sidelong glare. "I was actually looking forward to that."
Visar sighed. "It was worth a shot."
The raider leader stood tall again, her smug expression never faltering. "Don't worry," she said, starting to walk away. "You'll eat better when you're back at your outpost. If you survive that long."
Ethan's jaw clenched as she vanished into the shadows, her pet following closely behind her. The campfire crackled, and the cold night air began to settle in, the hunger gnawing at them both now more palpable than ever.
"You and your mouth," Ethan muttered, shaking his head.
Outside the raider camp, the group moved in silence, their eyes scanning every shadow, every movement in the dim glow of the campfires. The cold night air carried the faint smell of smoke and food, but for Loran, Toran, Virun, and Kavor, the tension in the air far outweighed any hunger. As they crouched low behind a pile of rocks, Toran pointed to a structure on the far side of the camp-an old, rusted container, glowing faintly from the energy stored within.
"That's the Lumium storage," Toran whispered, his voice barely above a breath.
Virun nodded. "Looks like we've got our target."
Kavor shifted nervously, clutching the rifle in his hands. He had a bad feeling about the plan, but they had no other choice. As agreed, they split into two groups-Loran and Toran would head toward the center of the camp to find Ethan and Visar, while Kavor and Virun were tasked with setting the distraction.
"We'll meet back at the northern ridge," Loran whispered, his eyes scanning the area one last time before giving the signal.
Kavor gave a nod, but his gut twisted as he and Virun made their way to the Lumium storage. Crouched low, they stuck to the shadows, avoiding any stray camp guards or raiders milling about. When they reached the storage unit, Kavor examined the massive container, its exterior humming softly from the raw energy inside.
Virun kept watch, glancing nervously around. "This is risky. You think we can pull it off?"
Kavor grunted as he began dismantling parts of the rifle, his fingers working quickly but carefully. "Do we have a choice?" he muttered under his breath. "But I didn't expect to sacrifice our only weapon. Not exactly what I had in mind when I suggested we come for Ethan and Visar."
Piece by piece, he pulled apart the rifle's inner workings, isolating the Lumium power cell. With a few rewires and adjustments, Kavor fashioned the device into a makeshift explosive.
"Done," he whispered, stepping back. "This'll cause one hell of a bang, but we'll be defenseless."
Virun glanced at the dismantled rifle and sighed. "Let's just hope it works."
As they set the device near the Lumium container, the two quickly retreated into the shadows, waiting for the inevitable explosion.
Meanwhile, in the heart of the camp, Loran and Toran crept closer to the wooden post where Ethan and Visar were tied. The firelight flickered off their faces, their expressions grim but focused. Loran raised a hand, signaling for them to hold position. They couldn't act until the distraction went off, and all they could do now was wait.
Ethan, bound to the post, caught a glimpse of them in the distance and tried to keep calm, his muscles tensing in anticipation.
Then, without warning, a thunderous boom tore through the air. The Lumium storage unit erupted in flames, sending a shockwave throughout the camp. Shouts filled the air as raiders rushed toward the fire, trying to control the chaos.
"Now!" Loran hissed, and he and Toran sprang into action.
They darted from their hiding place, sprinting toward Ethan and Visar. In one swift movement, Loran picked up a rock and began cutting through the ropes that bound them.
"About time," Visar muttered, rubbing his sore wrists as he was freed.
"No time for complaints, we need to move," Toran urged, pulling Ethan up to his feet. "Kavor and Virun are waiting for us."
They moved quickly, the shouts of raiders and the crackling of fire growing louder behind them. As they raced toward the rendezvous point, an unexpected obstacle appeared in their path-the raider leader's pet, now standing in front of them, growling lowly, its eyes narrowed in suspicion.
The creature's stance was no longer friendly, its fur bristling, and its sharp teeth bared. Ethan slowly raised his hands, trying to keep everyone calm. "Easy, easy," he said softly, stepping toward the animal. "We're not here to hurt you."
The creature's growl softened, its eyes flicking between Ethan and the rest of the group. Its loyalty to the camp leader seemed to be wavering, and Ethan carefully reached out, his voice low and steady.
After a few tense moments, the animal's posture relaxed, and it nudged its head against Ethan's leg in a gesture of trust.
"You've got to be kidding me," Visar whispered, shaking his head.
Ethan knelt down, stroking the creature gently. "Sorry, pal. You can't come with us." He pointed back to the camp. "Stay here, alright?"
The creature hesitated but eventually obeyed, sitting down obediently as Ethan and the others slipped away.
They moved swiftly, heading toward the northern ridge where Kavor and Virun were waiting. But as they drew closer, the sound of raiders shouting reached their ears-Virun and Kavor had been discovered.
From behind a large boulder, the raider cook pointed furiously at Kavor and Virun, calling for backup as more raiders rushed to the scene. The situation was spiraling out of control, and their escape plan was hanging by a thread.
"Go!" Loran barked, his voice filled with urgency as they sprinted toward the chaos, the fate of their comrades hanging in the balance.
Loran, Toran, Ethan, and Visar sprinted toward the chaos, their feet pounding against the dirt as they weaved between the campfires and shadows. Raiders scrambled to contain the fire, the confusion working in their favor as they neared Kavor and Virun. The two had ducked behind a wooden cart, the raiders closing in on them fast.
"There!" Loran shouted as he led the way. "We've got to get out now!"
Kavor and Virun saw them coming and quickly bolted from their hiding spot, darting toward the camp's exit. But as they passed by a storage unit, Ethan skidded to a stop. He grabbed Visar's arm and pointed.
"We need supplies," Ethan said, breathing hard. "If we make it out of here without weapons or rations, we'll be dead in no time."
Loran, already ahead, hesitated. "Are you crazy? We don't have time!"
"Just a minute," Ethan insisted. "It's worth the risk."
The others exchanged quick, uncertain glances. Time was running out, but they all knew that surviving Orion Prime's dangerous wilderness without supplies was a gamble they couldn't afford to take. Finally, Kavor cursed under his breath and gave a resigned nod.
"Fine. But make it quick."
They darted toward the storage unit, Ethan leading the way. The door was ajar, and inside, crates and containers were stacked haphazardly. They immediately began grabbing what they could-rations, basic tools, and a few makeshift weapons, anything that could help them survive the night ahead.
Visar found a small bag and tossed it to Ethan. "Here, fill this."
Ethan stuffed the bag full of supplies while the others grabbed anything within reach. Their hearts raced as the sounds of shouting and footsteps grew louder outside. Time was running out.
"Got it," Ethan said, slinging the bag over his shoulder. "Now let's get out of here."
They rushed back into the night, but just as they neared the edge of the camp, Toran spotted a raider vehicle-an old, rugged hovercraft parked by the outskirts. He pointed to it, his eyes lighting up with a spark of hope.
"We can use that!" Toran said.
Visar, ever the pragmatist, raised an eyebrow. "Do any of you know how to hotwire a raider vehicle?"
Kavor, surprisingly, stepped forward. "I've tinkered with a few things back at the outpost. I'll figure it out."
They hurried to the hovercraft, Kavor quickly ducking under the console. His hands moved swiftly, pulling out wires and sparking a few connections. Ethan kept watch, glancing nervously over his shoulder as raiders began to regroup and shout orders.
"We don't have much time," Ethan muttered. "They're closing in."
"I'm working on it!" Kavor growled, his fingers fumbling with the last few wires.
Suddenly, the engine roared to life, and the hovercraft hummed with power. Kavor grinned, jumping into the pilot's seat. "Get in!"
Without wasting another second, they piled into the vehicle, and Kavor slammed his foot on the accelerator. The hovercraft lurched forward, skimming across the rough terrain as they sped away from the camp. Raiders shouted in pursuit, but their voices grew fainter as the vehicle picked up speed, disappearing into the dense foliage.
As the camp lights faded into the distance, Ethan finally let out a long breath. "That was close."
Visar glanced back at the receding camp, a smirk on his face. "Nice work, Kavor. And here I thought you were just good with isotopes."
"Turns out I'm full of surprises," Kavor replied, still gripping the controls tightly. "Let's just hope this thing has enough juice to get us far away from here."
With supplies in hand and a stolen vehicle beneath them, they raced into the night, leaving the chaos of the raider camp behind. But their ordeal was far from over-Orion Prime's wilds awaited them, and with no idea what dangers lay ahead, they could only hope they'd survive to see the next dawn.
×××××××××××
Inside the escape ship, the hum of the engines was a constant backdrop as Jarek slowly stirred from his nap. He rubbed his eyes, taking a moment to absorb the atmosphere. The ship was filled with the low chatter of his crew, mostly Vorsalites he had recruited, with the occasional chuckle shared among them. Tharok, his trusted nephew, stood near the cockpit, arms crossed and a frown etched on his face.
"Good to see you awake," Tharok said, his voice steady but tinged with concern. "We need to talk about Rylor's challenge."
Jarek's mood shifted slightly, the warmth of their reunion overshadowed by the weight of what lay ahead. "I know it's a risk, but this challenge-Kavorn D'ruhn-is part of our history. It's a rite of passage. One that cannot be turned down."
Tharok shook his head, frustration clear in his eyes. "But you don't have to accept it. You're a general, not a gladiator."
"Exactly. And what will it look like if I refuse?" Jarek replied, his tone firm. "This is about honor, about reclaiming what's ours. It's about showing Rylor and the Alliance that the Vymorns won't be pushed around. I can't let them see me as weak."
Tharok leaned in closer, his expression softening. "If things don't go as planned, I'm stepping in."
"No," Jarek said, a mixture of pride and annoyance flaring in him. "You won't have to. I won't need you to." He paused, the tension between them palpable. "You're too much like your father. Always second-guessing, always wanting to protect."
"I'm nothing like my father," Tharok shot back, his voice rising. "And I'm not going to watch you walk into a death sentence because of some outdated tradition."
Jarek sighed, sensing the depth of his nephew's concern. "Tharok, I understand your hesitation. But you have to trust me. This is my fight, my decision."
Reluctantly, Tharok nodded. "Just promise me you'll be careful. You can't afford to underestimate General Rylor."
As Jarek prepared to respond, he glanced around the ship and noticed an unfamiliar face among his crew-another Aethorian, standing apart from the others. The figure had a rugged look about him, but something struck Jarek as odd. "Does he have the branding?" Jarek asked, narrowing his eyes.
Tharok followed Jarek's gaze, his expression instantly tense. "Uncle, he was not born on Aethoria. He didn't pass through the Shurath Khai."
Jarek stepped closer, crossing his arms as he scrutinized the newcomer. "And you thought it was wise to recruit a false Aethorian?"
Tharok opened his mouth to protest but quickly thought better of it. "He's loyal and skilled. He's fought with us before, and his loyalty is unquestionable. Just trust me on this."
"Trust is earned, not given," Jarek replied, standing firm. "I won't have a pretender at my side in the arena. We're Aethorians. Our lineage matters."
Before the conversation could escalate further, the ship's pilot chimed in, "Approaching Aethoria. Prepare for landing."
The atmosphere shifted, urgency taking over as the crew readied themselves. Jarek's thoughts raced, knowing the challenges awaiting him on Aethoria-both in the arena and within his own family. With the fate of his legacy hanging in the balance, he would have to navigate not just the fight, but the treachery that lay ahead.
×××××××××××××
Xelari leaned back in his seat, gazing out the window as the glowing skyline of Arcanis Prime passed by. Evening was falling, casting an orange and purple hue over the city's towering spires. His holo comms device vibrated in his hand, pulling his attention back. He scanned the message and a smile curved on his lips.
"It worked," he muttered to himself, before glancing at Maya, who was seated across from him, her ever-attentive expression unchanged.
"Care to share?" she asked, raising a brow.
Xelari's smile deepened. "You'll understand in due time, Maya. Let's just say all my efforts are finally bearing fruit."
Maya tilted her head slightly. "You mean the efforts in the council today?"
"Not just that," Xelari replied, his voice slipping into its usual enigmatic cadence. "The council was just one part of a much bigger picture. There's more happening beyond those walls than you realize. But you'll see soon enough."
Maya nodded, though the vague answer left her with more questions. She'd grown used to Xelari's tendency to keep his true plans to himself until the right moment.
Their transport finally came to a smooth halt outside his estate, and they both stepped out, entering the grand structure. The hallways of Xelari's residence stretched before them, illuminated by soft lighting, elegant artwork adorning the walls.
As they walked, Xelari casually glanced at Maya. "By the way, how do you feel about visiting Sirius Beta?"
Maya blinked, caught off guard. "Sirius Beta?"
"Yes, my home planet. I've got an ongoing project there I think you'd find interesting." His tone was inviting but measured, as though he was testing her reaction. "I could use your insights. You have a knack for seeing things from a different perspective."
Maya's eyes widened a little, flattered but intrigued. "I'd be honored. What kind of project is it, if you don't mind me asking?"
Xelari chuckled softly. "Ah, always the curious one. Let's just say it's something tied to the future of the Alliance-expansion, innovation, and a bit of strategy. You'll see when we get there."
Her curiosity piqued even more, Maya smiled. "Well, if it's as important as you say, I'd be glad to contribute."
They reached a fork in the corridor, where Xelari turned toward his private quarters. He stopped, facing her. "Good. Then prepare yourself. We'll be leaving soon. And rest well tonight, you'll need a clear mind for what lies ahead."
Maya nodded, taking the cue. "I'll head to my quarters then," she said, bowing her head slightly in respect.
Xelari lingered for a moment, watching her with a look of satisfaction. "I have no doubt you'll find the journey... enlightening."
With that, Maya turned and walked down the hallway towards her room, her thoughts buzzing with speculation. Xelari watched her go before retreating to his quarters, his mind already drifting to Sirius Beta and the next steps in his grand plan.
Xelari stood in front of the expansive window of his quarters, the skyline of Arcanis Prime stretching out like a vast, glowing sea beneath the darkening sky. The city lights twinkled, casting a soft glow across the room. He poured himself a drink from a crystalline decanter, the blue liquid catching the light as it filled the glass.
He raised it to his lips, savoring the taste, but his attention remained fixed on the world outside-on the power and influence that pulsed through this city.
"You did well today," a voice echoed from the shadows behind him, low but smooth, carrying an air of familiarity.
Xelari didn't flinch, nor did he turn to look. His lips curved into a subtle smile as he took another sip of his drink. "I had no doubt you'd find your way in."
The figure stepped closer, though still out of Xelari's direct view. Their presence was calm, deliberate, and wholly unthreatening. "I watched the meeting, of course. Your words had weight. The house was swayed, just as you intended."
Xelari chuckled under his breath, his eyes still scanning the glowing horizon. "The house moves where I point it. It always has, whether they realize it or not."
The figure crossed their arms, their tone shifting to something more personal. "It's been a long time coming, hasn't it? You've worked for this-positioned yourself precisely where you needed to be. Your father... he never quite understood how to play the game like you do."
Xelari's smile faded slightly, a flicker of thought crossing his mind. "He played his part in his own way," he said carefully. "But this isn't his time anymore. It's mine."
There was a brief silence as the figure regarded him. "Do you believe that you can truly surpass him? The expectations are high. Everyone is watching, and some will not be as easily swayed as today's vote."
Xelari finally turned, his expression composed, his eyes sharp as they locked onto the figure. "Surpass him? I won't just surpass him. I'll become something more than he ever could be. He carved a path, yes, but I will reshape the stars themselves if I have to."
The figure smiled, a hint of admiration in their voice. "I believe you will. And many others are beginning to as well. Just remember, the higher you climb, the more precarious the fall."
Xelari gave a short, confident laugh. "I have no intention of falling. Not now, not ever."
The figure nodded, a look of quiet approval passing across their features. "Good. Then I'll leave you to your evening. Rest well, Xelari. Tomorrow brings new challenges."
Without another word, the figure slipped back into the shadows, disappearing as silently as they had come. Xelari watched the spot for a moment, then turned back toward the city, raising his glass once more. The lights of Arcanis Prime shimmered like a promise before him.
"My time," he whispered to himself, the taste of triumph lingering on his tongue.
×××××××××
The stolen hovercraft hummed softly as it rested on the uneven terrain of Orion Prime, a stark contrast to the eerie stillness of the night. The squad had found a quiet spot to rest, the weight of their escape pressing down on them like the low-hanging clouds above. Most of them were sprawled out, asleep, their exhaustion evident after the raid on the camp.
Ethan, however, remained awake, sitting near the edge of the craft, his eyes fixed on the sky. Orion Prime's twin moons cast a dim light over the rugged landscape, and the stars above were sharper here, free from the smog of industry or artificial lights. The night was almost peaceful-almost. But Ethan's thoughts were far from calm. His mind wandered back to Earth, to the Academy, to the moment that had led him here.
Behind him, there was the rustle of movement, and then a familiar voice cut through the quiet.
"Can't sleep?" Visar's tone was casual, but there was a hint of understanding behind it.
Ethan didn't turn. He simply shook his head. "Not tonight. Too much to think about."
Visar moved closer, settling beside Ethan, his visor glinting faintly under the moonlight. He followed Ethan's gaze to the sky, his voice dropping to a softer tone. "You didn't sign up for this, did you?"
Ethan was silent for a moment, weighing the question. "No," he admitted quietly. "I didn't. At least, not in the way things turned out."
Visar nodded. "I figured. You're not like the rest of us. You've got something different about you. Back in the camp, I saw it. You don't belong here."
Ethan chuckled dryly, finally turning to face him. "Funny thing is, you're wrong."
Visar raised an eyebrow beneath his visor, clearly surprised. "How do you figure?"
Ethan leaned back slightly, his eyes drifting once more to the stars. "When I first got posted here, I hated the thought of it. Orion Prime... it felt like a death sentence. A place no one wanted to be. But... now?" He paused, a contemplative look crossing his face. "Now, there's nowhere else I'd rather be."
Visar studied him for a moment, his usually laid-back demeanor slipping into something more thoughtful. "That so? What changed?"
Ethan sighed, his breath visible in the cool night air. "I don't know. Maybe it's this place. Maybe it's the people-our squad. I guess, somewhere along the way, I stopped thinking of it as a punishment. I started seeing it for what it is. A chance. A challenge." He smiled faintly, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "And I don't run from challenges."
Visar smirked, a flicker of admiration in his gaze. "Guess that makes two of us."
They sat in silence for a moment, the quiet hum of the hovercraft and the distant sounds of Orion Prime's nocturnal creatures the only thing breaking the stillness. The sky above seemed vast and endless, like the journey ahead of them.
"You know," Visar finally said, "I never thought I'd get this far. Not with the Corps. Definitely not on Orion Prime." He shrugged, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "But I guess we don't get to choose our paths, do we?"
Ethan shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "No. But we get to decide how we walk them."
Visar chuckled at that. "Philosophical tonight, aren't we?"
Ethan grinned. "Maybe. Or maybe I've just had enough close calls for one day."
Visar clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll survive this. We all will. And when we do, we'll have stories that no one else can match."
Ethan nodded, feeling a sense of camaraderie between them, stronger than before. "Yeah," he said quietly. "We will."
The stars above seemed to shine a little brighter, as if offering their silent approval.
Visar remained quiet for a moment, his gaze still fixed on the stars, before speaking again. "You ever wonder why I never take off these visors?"
Ethan glanced at him, curiosity piqued. He'd noticed it before, how Visar never removed the visors, even when they were resting or during moments when everyone else had their guard down. It had always seemed like a quirk, part of Visar's laid-back but enigmatic personality. But now, there was something different in his tone-something deeper.
"I figured it was just your style," Ethan said lightly, though he sensed there was more to it.
Visar chuckled, but it was short and lacking the usual humor. "Yeah, that's what most people think. But the truth is, I don't have a choice."
Ethan raised an eyebrow, turning his body slightly to face him. "What do you mean?"
Visar reached up, lightly tapping the side of his visors. "I've got this... condition. Zorvian-born, but with a rare defect. My eyes don't process light the way everyone else's do. To me, the world looks... off. Like colors, shapes-they all blur together in ways you can't imagine. Without these, I can barely make out anything."
Ethan was silent, absorbing the weight of what Visar had just shared. "So, the visors..."
"...help me see things the way everyone else does," Visar finished. "They calibrate the light spectrum, adjust it so I can function like a normal person. Without them, I'd be almost blind."
Ethan frowned, suddenly realizing how much more difficult life must have been for Visar than he let on. "I had no idea."
Visar shrugged, trying to brush it off as though it didn't matter. "It's not something I advertise. It's not exactly a great look for someone in the Corps, y'know? Makes you seem weak, different. And different doesn't always go over well."
Ethan shook his head. "That doesn't make you weak, Visar. If anything, it makes you stronger. You've been out here doing everything the rest of us do, and no one even knew. That's something."
Visar gave a small smile, but there was a hint of vulnerability behind it. "Yeah, maybe. But it's not easy. There are times when I wonder if I'll ever see things the way they're supposed to be-without these damn things." He tapped the visors again, this time more thoughtfully.
Ethan considered his words, realizing that Visar had been carrying this burden silently all along. "We all have something, man. But you've got your squad now. We've got your back. Visors or no visors."
Visar laughed, this time with a bit more of his usual spirit. "You're alright, Ethan. For someone who didn't even want to be here."
Ethan smirked, feeling the camaraderie between them solidify even further. "Yeah, well, I'm here now. And like I said, there's nowhere else I'd rather be."
Visar leaned back, letting out a content sigh. "Guess we're stuck with each other then."
Ethan grinned. "Could be worse."
The night around them seemed a little less oppressive, the sky above a little more familiar. Visar turned his head slightly, the visors catching the faint light of the moons as he stared back at the stars.
×××××××××××××
General Rylor stood in his office, the walls once adorned with commendations and accolades now echoing a sense of finality as he packed away the remnants of his military career. The neat stacks of documents and personal items felt heavy in his hands, reminders of battles fought and lost. Just then, the door creaked open, and Gaelon leaned against the frame, a sardonic grin on his face.
"Well, if it isn't the illustrious General Rylor. Come to finish packing up, or are you waiting for a firing squad?" Gaelon quipped, his tone teasing yet tinged with respect.
Rylor glanced up, barely suppressing a sigh. "If you're here to finish me off, Gaelon, this dismissal is already as good as death."
"Please," Gaelon replied, stepping inside. "It's not your fault that Nadira died. If anyone's to blame, it's me for letting her dive headfirst into that jailbreak." His eyes darkened with regret.
Rylor shook his head vehemently. "No, it's my fault. My family has been a nuisance to the Alliance for too long. I need to head to Aethoria and get things in order. Patch up my fracturing family."
"You mean you're going to Aethoria to get killed by Jarek?" Gaelon said, a hint of worry creeping into his voice.
Rylor straightened, his expression firm. "Even as cold and deadly as Jarek is, I was still able to put him behind bars once. I can handle it."
With one last look around the office, Rylor finished packing his last few items and stood, preparing to leave. Gaelon followed him into the corridor, curiosity bubbling beneath the surface. "What's going to happen with the Alliance's military now?"
Rylor paused, turning to face Gaelon, his voice heavy with resignation. "I'm no longer in a position to worry about the Alliance. All that matters now is my family drifting apart."
Gaelon frowned, his brows knitting together. "I don't think the Alliance will find a replacement for you, Rylor. You've been a cornerstone."
"Trust me, there are others who can fill my shoes," Rylor replied, a hint of determination in his tone. "I'm not so special. The Zorvians have a better tactical approach and would make for better replacements."
Rylor's gaze softened momentarily as he remembered Nadira. "And I'm truly sorry for your loss, Gaelon. I wish things had been different."
With that, Rylor turned, his footsteps echoing down the corridor as he headed toward his residence, leaving Gaelon standing in the doorway, a mix of concern and uncertainty etched on his face.