[Jmenschenfresser]

Finally another post.

2417.3 Continued...

Raeghar showed up at the pre-arranged meeting with the Sergetti outlaw. His excuse was weak. He told him that he had talked to his associates about the offer and they had declined. In reality, the opposite was true. He never told them anything and had he, most likely, they would have jumped on it. Their core constituency was growing more restless and exceedingly violent. Raeghar regretted not taking the Sergetti up on the offer for the reason that he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold onto his position.

The logic was simple. If the Sallega Empire fell, the Tribunals would proceed unopposed...perhaps even pounce upon several systems...sharing in the spoils. The Sallega were the only ones in a real position to oppose the Norak Continuum. No, Raeghar had his own plan, and although the math certainly didn't produce the solution he had in mind, somehow he knew it would work.

Raeghar strode into the drab government office, the Last one down a long hall. The man sitting before him had no title. Politicians loved titles. This man loved power and with that said, he had it. He was the Tribunal's insider for this system. Raeghar didn't know exactly what such men did, but he did know that they were the arteries of the Tribunal's system of government. Had he gone to the local police, a local politician, or even the governor of the planet, a cagey maze of red tape would have clamped down upon his plan. No, this took skill and required inside work.

"Sit down." The Tribunal strong man, although common looking was not to be trifled with. "I told you over the net that your coming here was a one way trip...and yet you showed up. That in and of itself speaks....justifies this message you bring. You're a wanted man, Raeghar. Unless this information can be valued over a better post and a bigger house, I will be turning you in."
"It is that important, sir."
"Out with it."
Raeghar told him of the Sergetti/Sallega plot.
"Here's what we are going to do. Two of my men will shadow you back to your house, and they will watch you day and night. For your own protection and to protect my investment in you. You are worth a lot to me. I will play this to my greatest benefit...never forget that. I will contact the Counsel...perhaps even the Speaker. And you will be hearing from me."
"That's it."
"There is one other thing. Why didn't you take the Sergetti's offer. Certainly to a rebellion, a better offer could not be made."
"The rebellion is going no where. I too weigh such situations, and his offer came up lacking. I think I have more to gain in destroying his plot than aiding it."
"If all you say is true, and half of it comes to pass, and your coming forth prevents certain situations, then I agree. You might have much to gain. You know, since you fled our people like a dishonest Farzah dog, upholding ancient ideals, unwilling to see the future, much has changed in the Continuum. The Tribunals have become quite the opportunists. No one talks as I am sure you do. Society has become a machine."
"That says only one thing."
"What would that be, Raeghar?"
"Machines don't operate just to show off how tightly their gears and wheels fit together...they produce...as in a product outside itself."
"Yea...it's called a better society."

Every night Raeghar prayed that Tallik's burden, compared to his, was airy and light. The proof had been sent, and with that, reclined in his chair, his toes curled up against the cold glass of gin. He'd just spent an hour staring at the button to send of the list...the list of names and addresses. He didn't know what to think about it all. His recent actions happened out of a higher order of instinct. Perhaps divine intervention, he thought.

No doubt news of the attack had reached the ears of the Speaker. Raeghar woke up the next day to hear of the battle in Ushpada. Two days he thought. They had waited for him...Raeghar!, to assist them, and when he turned down their help, some 20+ Sallegan warships attacked a Norak world in Ushpada. Luckily for all parties they failed...well, all except the Sergetti and the Sallegan captains. News filtered in later that day that the attack was actually the master plan of a Sallegan plot, a faction of disgruntled leaders. The origin of the Tectonic bombs was solved. Certainly, the Sallegan empire either had them, or had the funds to get them.

Raeghar still wondered if the Tribunals would declare war. Several weeks later, several weeks of silence for him, the handing over of a colony in Nizzarum went over quite awfully. Somehow the leaders of the faction who planned the attack in Ushpada had evaded Sallegan authorities and convinced the fleet stationed over Nizzarum VIII to glass the planet...killing several billion Norak and several hundred Sallegan Marines.

About a week after Raeghar had ratted out all of his friends, his comrads in rebellion to the Tribunal strong man, he paid a visit to his office. The list that Raeghar sent was his test to have his crimes pardoned and be reinstated into Norak life...even work as part of the Tribunal organization. No doubt, thought Raeghar, they need people like me...who have some experience. The Tribunal agent seemed almost glad to see him. He talked long and hard about the stir Raeghar had created and how impressed everyone was with his turn around. He even went so far as to claim that the Speaker himself apologized for any past misunderstandings.

Misunderstandings, thought Raeghar, that is quite an obtuse way of putting it.

Much to Raeghar's surprise the agent confided that the Tribunals had special need of him. It was filtering down that the Jraenar and the Praetorians might enter into open warfare, and no one in the Tribunal government had the slightest idea as to how to deal with them.

2419.2
There is a Tribunal saying that goes, "The road to paradise is paved with bodies." Such a horrible thought. How could such a place be paradise? I doubt it is. Such a place is the resting rock for those who dash themselves upon the jagged cliffs of government.

All those I served and served with on the outer rim are dead. I chose in sound mind and body to sacrifice all of them, so that the rebellion might flower and grow fruit. The Speaker himself congratulated me and pardoned my crimes, saying that I saved the galaxy from unwanted war. It had helped them to stay their hand from striking back at the Sallega. I now know why. The Norak did not have a single mine sweeper with which to clear the attack. I realized then that there could be no peace in our corner of the galaxy. Our entire history with the sallega had simply been one long military build up.

I am not sure what has become of the Praetorian conflict with the Jraenar. I haggled with them and the Jraenar. The conflict is light years away, in a part of the galaxy no Norak has seen. The Praetorian seem to be preparing a fleet but taking their time with it. Not long after I'd pricked my thumb several times trying to sort out a conflict the Norak had little to do with and involved complicated feelings of honor and retribution, the Tribunal head of the diplomatic core suddenly pulled the plug on my negotiations.

To this day, I do not know why. Not long after I was taking a stroll down the long corridors of the Xiban space station, when a familiar figure crossed the hall, like a spectre in a children's tale. I ran to catch it, but rounding the corner I found myself standing in simply another part of a giant empty corridor.

What on earth was Tallik doing walking free. I'd tried to find him since I'd returned but no one knew where he was. Most thought he'd left with me. Some said he'd been killed. Perhaps then what I saw was true. The spectre of a living man. A man lost to the world but in some realm still alive.

The old Order refused to reinstate me. The monk orders had grown cold since the Tribunal's coming to power. Their numbers were dwindling, having been the focus of several cleansings. So those holding my keys decided it would be best if I could occupy my time with something fruitful. I was given the task of the warrior priest. The warrior priest accompanies a war host in battle. To heal, to bless, to encourage and to instruct. I was put aboard a dreadnought in orbit in the Arklite system. The tradition of the warrior priest is ancient. It used to be one of the highest positions one could hold as far as prestigious matter are concerned. However, today, the Tribunals and the space navy in general kept the practice only out of tradition, not with any respect to its original reasons.

Most of the ship's crew don't care to show up to my lessons. There is a strange secularism going about the continuum, despite having such a fundamentalist government. It is as if no one cares any longer for the spiritual side of life. Perhaps we all deserve the government we've been given. I've heard it said.

Nearly thirty ships in the fleet. Most of which had been mothballed because the empire couldn't afford to keep all of them in working condition. But recently, I'd noticed more and more of them undocking and glowing with life. The fleet was being overhauled. Mine sweepers arrived with regular intervals from the outer systems. Soon the crew began running tests. All sorts. This meant only one thing...

A call to arms was issused in the middle of the night. I jumped from my bed, donned my robe and ran to the temple hall. Already several dozen of the crew were assembled. I stepped into my office, hoping to grab a quick cup of Praetorian tea, but found the second in command of the dreadnought sitting on my desk.

"What's all this?" I asked.
"Shipping out, priest."
"To where?"
"War. We've gone to war with the Sallega. Let me make this as clear as I can. About an hour ago, intersteller time, our fleet in Cephedri attacked the two Sallega fleets stationed there. We are moving out as well, and this ship has been designated as the command ship. Therefore, you are now responsible for the other warrior priests. Please inform them. This is no excercise, priest. Over the next 24 hours all men and women aboard this ship will come in rotations to you for blessing and confession. An assistant is coming aboard now to help you. He's a young priest from the Olontra system."
He turned to leave.
"Why if I may ask, are we going to war with the Sallega? I thought all was well with them? I mean, surely this is a question upon all the lips of the soldiers, and I will hear it asked a thousand times. What shall I tell them?"
"Tell them this--nothing matters so little as what happens to men, for judgement is based solely upon how they deal with it."
"I am a priest, and even to me, that is a bad answer."
"It is all you will get."
"Then may I ask where we are going."
"Into the belly of the beast."

The rebellion is no more. I see that now. There never was a rebellion. We were deluded by the status quo, we'd once known. What little understanding we have. I closed the door behind the commander and took out, not a bag of tea, but my old flask of gin. I am a fool. Who was I to think I could change the future. A man is taught many lessons in his life, and the Last is the wisdom of silence. The gin slides down cool. I walk out into the crowded temple thinking about the irony that here I am speeding toward the fate I denied, only to be the first to embrace it.

I've done more to help this evil than all those growing fat off its ill-gotten rewards.