A Senator somewhere at the back of the chamber had heard enough. “We were infants in the eyes of the Old. They would allow us no expansion, no trade and no relations with them. They even blockaded half our Sectors. It was they who drove us to war!”
Clearly the man had sought to defend his people against the accusations of an outsider, but Olympus couldn’t keep his anger at them in check anymore. They had slaughtered billions for the sakes of their own Empire, a thousand worlds build on the blood of the dead. “Why must you always think war is the only option? This Dimension isn’t the only one in existence; surely you must know that by now. The Vorlans come from one next door, or haven’t you managed to stomach how insignificant that makes you?” The man who challenged him was purple with insult, but it didn’t stop him. “But that’s just it, isn’t it? All your wars, all your fighting against those you deem unworthy of life…the massacres caught up with you in the end, didn’t they? The Ghoul Hosts to the West, the Vorlans to the East…why, you had to abandon entire clusters so you could find the manpower to defend what was left from your unsustainable growth. Greed is the reason you lost the territory you gained, and now the Sectors have what, half a dozen planets at the most each?”
When the cold truth struck the Senate, they were silenced by the Guardian who had so audaciously put them in their place. It was evident that they were dealing with a man that had no adherence to their authority and was more than capable of outwitting their every attempt to argue back and defend their past. They had to accept they were dealing with people that seemed to know more about them than they probably did, and the humility was almost paralysing. “You spread yourselves too thin, you were never meant to be the only people here…” Olympus said sadly, frowning as he gave in to the true feelings he had for the Empire. “And now the real war has come, you can’t hold the line, not with your populations scattered across the stars…and neither can we”.
“There are too few of us” Lupus explained. “We were created at the expense of the lives of gods and even that energy was insufficient to rival that of the Great Enemy’s. We are outnumbered, Lord Governor; stretching our line too thin against our foe in an attempt to save everything would be madness.”
There were shared whispers and mutters as the Senate members considered the move that he suggested.
“We cannot pull back from the galactic north, to do so would invite the Vorlans wholeheartedly into the eastern Empire” someone insisted.
“Yes, but the Apotheon Sector is practically already lost, isn’t it Senator?” another challenged his peer. “We need only remain there until the Shield is finished”.
Lupus knew what he meant by the ‘Shield’, even if they thought he didn’t. In short, it was a line of defence being made to the east of the Meridian Sector in the pessimistic outlook that the so-called Vorlans would reach that far into the Empire. From what he understood, three sub-sectors, Stheno, Euryale and Medusa, would be founded and linked to create the Shield.
“Commander, would not this aggregation of people you are suggesting, a retreat of many worlds to but a few, cause disease on a scale we haven’t seen for millennia? We cannot simply bring whole worlds together and expect it to run smoothly” someone inquired, more politely concerned than the others who seemed to be trying their best to be the ones with the right answers.
“No, Senator, you couldn’t. Not alone and without our help, anyway. That is where the 237th legion comes in. The Star Healers will watch over the resettlement and provide the mastery of medicine that the gods bestowed to us. With their assistance, the operation would in fact run…smoothly, as you phrased it”.
“Can you guarantee that?” the Governor challenged.
“Absolutely,” a female voice answered. It came from a legionnaire who had, until now, been seated in an area of the Auditorium reserved for the Black Guardians.
“This is Althea, Commander of the Star Healers 237th Legion,” Sabre explained, introducing her proudly to the Senate.
“We have never failed to cure a disease or ailment suffered unto the legions; we will not fail your race either. It is our purpose to heal and we will do so until we, or your afflictions, are gone from this dimension,” Althea said rather matter-of-factly, a conviction so strong that none could disbelieve it.
It was hard for anyone to say whether it was her natural beauty, which resonated of both care and power, or the calming, serene tone of her voice that prevented any argument from the humans. Once her words had filled the room she sat down again with the grace of a noble. Sabre shared an appreciative glance at her, thankful for her timely reassurance.
“You have seen our fleet; it is but a fraction of our true force ready to be found amongst your stars. You have witnessed our technology, seen the First Apostle take his form and heard our promises, rife with only truth. We have shown you no hint of deceit and we have no reason to lie to you. Though the enemy vastly outnumbers us, we are smarter and our resolve is greater. With the right preparations, we will win this war and cast the Great Enemy down for the last time,” Sabre’s speech was drunk with determination and the air hung with the atmosphere of vowed protection.
Now he asked the small group of humans, responsible for the governance of their entire race, the ultimate question. “Do you accept our allegiance, its conditions and its meaning?” he asked, setting his gaze firmly upon the Lord Governor.
THE SENATE HAD chosen to adjourn from the session and have a private meeting to discuss the Black Guardians’ offer. Lupus had thought it important to allow them to make their own decision, but equally knew that the legionnaires could only offer this one direction once and nothing more or less. They had a duty to protect the humans, but it was up to mankind itself to decide their own fate, for better or worse.
After a couple of hours, during which Sabre helped the Apostle to understand more about his path and the status of events as they were now, the Senate returned and invited the legionnaires back inside.
The Lord Governor brought himself to the dais and stood ready to address them, Senate and legionnaire alike. Lupus kept to the back of the room, aware that if any words were carelessly enough spoken, they might trigger his temper and he wasn’t so confident anymore that he could control it enough to prevent taking form. Usually he could tame his change through willpower alone, but the disappearance of Calla was playing havoc with his mood and it unsettled him more severely than he cared to express to even Sabre, who he already trusted deeply despite his wary tendencies.
He vowed, there and then, to find her. Whether he would do it soon, or at a later time when the Empire’s preparations had been finalized, he would never call off the hunt for her. He knew he had to use some of the legions at his disposal, even if only one, to continue the search. Lupus considered Calla to be his life companion now, and he knew she felt the same; there was no way he could be without her for the entire war.
“We have one condition to this allegiance,” the Governor began. “We have to keep the truth of the war a secret.”
This statement, both bold and perplexing, was one that the legionnaires were not expecting to hear in a thousand guesses.
“A secret?” Lupus asked. “Can you tell us why you think that’s a good idea? It’ll be catastrophic when the people realise the truth.”
“If they find it, Apostle. We do not doubt that eventually they will discover the nature of the war. One way or another, word from the outer worlds will inevitably reach those closer to Gothica, but we should do our best to censor this information. It is patently clear that even the most successful of victories in this conflict is going to come at a high cost – pyrrhic, in fact – and we need to keep this truth from the people as long as possible,” the Governor replied. From the blank faces and the puzzled looks on the legionnaire’s faces that spoke of moral judgements and condemnation, he delivered the real reason behind the planned deceit.
“Imagine the effect upon morale if the whole truth was revealed; no one would want to fight. They
would lose hope. With the wars we’re already fighting, the worlds we’re losing every month now, they would panic, and who could blame them? For now, at least for the immediate future, we have to portray this conflict as though it is already won. Yes, we must make preparations behind closed doors so that when it finally does become too big to hide, and believe us we do realise that it will, we will be ready for it. It is better to blame the enemy’s trickery for our defeat than our own inadequacies…”
Olympus was the first to cry out against such treachery and weakness.
“You cannot be serious! If this concealment is discovered – and it will take more resources than you realise to do it – everything will be undone. If you are found out, this very act will damage all the morale and faith in your fragile Empire more than any Phantom army could.” he declared defiantly.
“No…” a firm voice returned. All heads turned in surprise to find its source was Lupus.
After due consideration, he explained himself. “What the Senate suggests is a necessary evil; the Empire is not ready to wholly accept the fulfilment of the Prophecy. It is one thing to present them with angels and protectors to make them feel safe, but to reveal to them that the very guardians sent to watch over them are outnumbered is wrought for disaster. They would come to understand the Empire really is beset on all sides, that the only certainty of the future is death; victory or defeat is but a roll from a die at this point, we all know that to be true. It would be as if we give them the hope they need and sweep it away with the harsh reality that their salvation is as likely as their annihilation,” he told them, standing as he did so and making his way to the dais, paying no heed to the amazed faces of the legionnaires as they began to question the morality of their Apostle, a blasphemous action in itself.
Though disturbed by the turn of events, the legionnaires had to put their own opinions aside as the Apostle endorsed the Senate’s move. They had to trust that he knew what he was doing. Even though he had only been with them for a day, his transition from a lonely man to the leader of legions was unfathomably fast and impossibly natural. It was as if he had been with them for years. In spirit, he had been.
He talked to the Lord Governor, now by the Senator’s side on the stage. He could feel himself intimidating the man.
“Is that your only condition?” he asked.
“It is,” the Governor replied, surprised that what he had said was even being considered by the Apostle.
Lupus regarded him with an obvious curiosity, wondering if there were any ulterior motives behind the Senate’s course of action. Regardless, he could not ignore the importance of morale in the Empire, and knew that if people really did know the truth, they would flee in horror.
“Then I have a condition of my own,” he said. “Show myself and my legions to the public. Introduce us to the people. Give them the angels they need and promise them that we can save them from the war. It is too late for coincidence or miracle to explain the events already fulfilling the Prophecy. People will want an explanation; they need to know something. We must tell them the war is coming, but show them that we, their Black Guardians, will prevent it ever reaching their doorstep. Do that for us, and you will have the morale you need, but understand me when I say that if you do not make the right preparations, and do not commit to this conflict in the way we ask of you, everything you all care for will turn to ash and dust.”
At that moment, at the back of the Auditorium, Olympus leaned in close to his commander’s side and whispered into his ear.
“This cannot be happening, can it? Is the Apostle really condoning this?”
Sabre chastised him immediately. “Do not be so foolish as to doubt him. He knows and understands more than you can imagine. Do not let his physical years spent on this planet blind you from the reality of who and what he is. He has the knowledge of the Auranair Herself. If She were here, you would not be so quick to doubt Her actions, no matter how wrong they appeared to be.”
Olympus was visibly marked by such a rebuke and bowed his head in obeisance.
Sabre realised he had been harsher than he intended. “It is true, Olympus, that deception has a way with words, but I suspect that the Apostle has planned something pure out of this. I feel like I have known him all my life, even if in reality I have only known him for less than a day. It is clear to me, more than anything, that he will never do anything without good reason.”
The Governor, after standing to one side to speak with an aide, was ready to reply.
“We are in agreement,” he said at last.
At this, Sabre called down to Lupus. “My Lord, we cannot tarry here for much longer. We must leave as soon as we can if we are going to make best use of the time we have left. Even now, every hour and every day will matter” he advised.
Lupus appreciated the commander’s statement and, despite now being in command of the legions present on Gothica, owed it to Sabre to heed the legionnaire’s wisdom and experience.
“The Commander is right, Governor. When can arrangements be made to release the agreed news to the people?” he asked.
The aide from before returned to the Governor’s side, cupping his mouth so he could whisper quietly into his superior’s ear. The Governor kept nodding as he listened before sending the little man away. Despite the efforts for privacy, Lupus had heard it all. He decided it was better not to inform the Governor of his good hearing.
“It appears that news of what you did at the Academy this morning has caught up with you, Apostle. There are newscasters trying to hammer our walls down as we speak,” the Governor said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “It would seem we can assemble a conference immediately.”
Lupus looked to Sabre to gauge his reaction, who nodded slowly with reluctance.
“Alright, do it” the Apostle told the Senator.
CAPTAIN ASHDOWN OF the Senate Guard had never seen such a sight in his life. The courtyard of the Senate House was full to the brim with newscasters, journalists and even some members of the public who had rushed through the open gates to bear witness to the Senate’s address.
He had received the order to let the media workers in only, but as soon as they ground the massive gates inwards to let them through, the Senate Guard found it extremely difficult to maintain any sense of control. It only took the single shot of a standard sidearm to quell the rush and cease the mad run inside, but it was a price worth waiting to pay; the Senate didn’t want to ruin its democratic, peaceful image.
Most of the people waiting outside had never even been inside the Senate’s walls and were eager to simply grasp the opportunity to gaze on the secretive structure, if not to actually hear the voices of the Senate speakers.
By the time Ashdown had ordered the gun to fire for crowd control, the courtyard was already full. He had proceeded to order his men to direct the surplus out from the gate simply so he could close it again. Unsure why this was necessary and of the opinion that the more witnesses the better, he still did as he was ordered.
It was said that the command came from the newfound, now fabled First Apostle of the Black Guardian Legions. Personally, Ashdown had no affiliation to the mysterious figure and had no reason to obey him without question, but he did have faith in the legionary Commander Sabre and followed it through for that reason alone.
Now that the gates were shut and the crowd, several hundred strong, were herded into the area nearest the Senate House steps where the speech would take place, Ashdown scrutinised every person for security threats. It was purely instinct and although he should have no reason to suspect any trouble, his military training overrode his optimism and reminded him that there was a reason the Senate House had walls; despite the propaganda, the Senate did have enemies.
Even as the Lord Governor and a cohort of his associates left the House and proceeded to the top of the steps, where a large podium stood, Ashdown was not distracted. He was very much expecting that those outside the walls would try their luck and try to get inside again,
but he was surprised to see that they were silent, seemingly intent on trying to hear what would be said rather than risking their lives opposing the Senate Guard.
Returning his gaze to the crowd, Ashdown’ eye immediately caught the figures in black joining the Senators. They were the same legionnaires that had met him only a few nights ago. He couldn’t be sure why, but the feeling of seeing them again warmed his heart and he suddenly felt calmer than he did before. He was almost convinced by their aura and presence alone that nobody, even in their darkest dreams, would want to harm them; but he was a soldier, and so were they, he knew what it meant to bear arms and any military man was a target to someone.
Behind the legionnaires, a man that was quite distinguishable from any inside the protection of the wall walked out from the House and joined the Guardians beside the politicians. The Lord Governor was now taking to the podium, ready to begin the address. The reserved companion of the legionnaires, who Ashdown had never seen before, stood with an air of dignified, yet equally humble authority.
The captain entertained the idea that he was the Apostle, but almost laughed at the idea of it. It was obvious, at least to him, that such a legend as foretold by the Prophecy would be older. Little did Ashdown know how much he misunderstood the man’s nature.
“People of Gothica,” the Lord Governor announced, his voice carried over the courtyard through microphones and speakers hastily set up for the sudden talk. “I come forward to you today to tell you that what many of you have heard is right; the Prophecy has been proven true.”
IT TOOK AN hour for the Lord Governor to explain the situation to the people of Gothica. It was not a simple, straightforward revelation. He had to do it delicately, smoothly and with just the right balance of tones to make it clear that war was coming, but the people would be safe under the protection of the Black Guardians.
The Deian War: Vermillion's Apostles Page 13