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Chapter 26 - Rest for the Righteous
Last Time: Aiden, Laran, Leor, and Oriwyn - under the employ of Arcadia - executed a daring plan to rescue Oxcard from the clutches of the crime boss Daisy. They managed to get to his room without trouble, but leaving proved to be much more difficult. Laran was cornered and forced to fight several thugs after being seen while skulking around Daisy’s compound. The rest of the party found him and made sure he won the fight but were unable to prevent one of the thugs from alerting the entire building to their presence. What followed was a harrowing flight from Daisy’s forces and Daisy herself. With Leor’s assistance, everyone was able to clear the building and run off into the night, but not without sustaining several injuries. The party made good their getaway however with their client and target in tow and, determined to stay ahead of Daisy’s reprisal, left the city of Tripit behind.
Daisy clutched my throat, the slashes across her face leaking crimson blood that pooled in her snarled teeth. She looked like a wild thing and had me both lifted and pinned to a wall as if I weighed almost nothing. I struggled to breath, kicking my legs feebly, until I suddenly woke up.
Laran was staring down at me. He looked very concerned and more than a little frightened. It took my brain another few seconds to adjust to our surroundings and fully shake off the nightmare.
All of us were arrayed around a clearing underneath hastily constructed tents. I could see Oriwyn crouched beside Ox, who was laying out in the middle of the clearing. Oriwyn’s nose was swollen and her green skin was mottled purple around it - her face looked a little crooked in general, but she seemed to be moving fine enough. Arcadia stood next to the pair, holding a fan and waving it at Oxcard’s face. Groaning, I sat up. Leor sat on a tree stump and glanced at me with a tired grin. Brams lay curled up by her feet, and every once in a while I noticed she would reach down and scratch his head while Oriwyn busied herself with Oxcard.
As I sat up, Laran’s concerned expression broke into a relieved smile so genuine that it made my heart hurt. I wasn’t even injured, yet here he was acting like I’d just gotten up off my death bed. My head still felt fuzzy, so when he held a canteen out to me I took it gladly and took a big drink of water. I granted myself a few moments of silence before getting down to the business of trying to lead again.
“Where exactly are we again? I remember slumping down on the road when Arcadia’s golem gave out, but I don’t really remember anything after that.”
Laran smiled and nodded. The sun shone down on his jade-green skin and helped burn away the remaining damp from the night before. Laran sat back and seemed to finally properly relax. As he did, I couldn’t stop my attention from being wholly drawn to him.
In that moment he was really, really good to look at. And listen to. And be around.
“Ain’t surprised you don’t remember much - we had a time a’ things for sure. Last night - g’morning by the way - a teamster named Alex found us and dragged our sorry hides to this clearin’ off the road. They didn’t ask much about us, though they seemed to get the impression we were in need a’ help something fierce. Right now they’re headed back to Tripit to get our stuff from the Sable Sky - I worked out a price to make it worth their time and delay, then they only accepted half o’ it - and we’re patching everyone up.”
I nodded thoughtfully and took another swig of water. As I swished it in my mouth I realized my throat felt raw as if I’d been yelling or screaming - I hoped I hadn’t been and that the raw feeling in my throat had been solely caused by stress. My mind flicked through a few things to say - I figured I was the Commander, and as bad as we all looked and felt we had still won - before I landed on a sardonic tone. It was time to celebrate with the troops.
“Well everyone, good work. Sorry for sleeping in - I need my beauty sleep much more than the rest of you!” I grinned in what I hoped was a confident way. Oriwyn laughed a bit - it sounded like it hurt her a little to laugh unfortunately - while Leor just snorted. My tone and face shifted to sincerity as I continued.
“More seriously everyone, I think we did it. I think we won despite the odds. How is Oxcard doing?”
I glanced at Arcadia. Tears welled in her eyes and I could tell she was furiously blinking them back.
“Ox is okay, or stable at least. He keeps on breathing and Ori thinks she’s finally managed to fully stem the bleeding.” Arcadia looked down, worried, at her brother. Oriwyn smiled up at her and stood, wiping her slightly bloody hands on a cloth she had on her person. The goblin-mouse reached over and patted the taller woman’s shoulder.
“He’ll be right as rain, especially when he wakes up I think. He’s really quite deft with a needle - I’ve seen sloppier stitch work on people’s pants than he managed to do to himself.”
The ghost of a smile touched Arcadia’s lips as she gazed down at the sleeping Oxcard.
“Yes, he’s always been good with needle and thread. He was the one who kept our clothes in good repair when we were growing up, and unfortunately this isn’t his first improvised surgery. Ox is a survivor. He’ll pull through.”
I noticed, but obviously chose not to comment on, the quiver in her voice when she said that her brother would pull through. I looked him over myself - he seemed to be breathing evenly, and there were some bandages tied around his whole torso that were yet to be spotted with blood, so that seemed like a good sign at least. Satisfied, I turned back to address the group as a whole.
“Can I get a status report from everyone? How are we all doing?”
Laran immediately answered.
“I thought you might want to know! For injuries, I’ve received a small cut on my torso. Arcadia has some pretty bad gashes on her left palm and right forearm. Oriwyn is bruised and her nose was broken - Leor snapped it back in place a few hours ago when Ori started having some trouble breathing, so it looks pretty nasty. Speaking of Leor, she has some burns on her hands from her stunt with the lightning, but Ori managed to find some weird plant I’d never heard of that’s been helping with the pain. Finally, Brams got something of a cut, but it isn’t very deep. It is on his wing though, so as it is healing he will need to be careful about moving too much.”
I nodded and thanked Laran for his report. He looked pleased with himself, and I resolved to thank him privately later for helping me lead the team. All in all, we had gotten off relatively okay. All of us were alive and we had managed to achieve our objective. I took a moment to savor the victory before my mind stumbled into the next inevitable question.
What now?
I sighed as I began to contemplate the question. We likely couldn’t go back to Tripit since Daisy knew what we looked like. Leor might be able to chance it since she’d been outside the whole time, but even then I didn’t think any of us were in a hurry to test that theory out. As another consideration, Arcadia had been through a lot with us, and I felt like I needed to address that fact before too awful long.
“Arcadia, what’s your plan? Or what was your plan? Because I think I can speak for all of us when I say that we don’t want to go back to Tripit any time soon.” I said it with a laugh, but Arcadia looked anxious. I suddenly realized what I said could come across as accusatory. “Hey, it’s not your fault. We knew what we were signing up for and we all did it willingly.”
“You shouldn’t have. Glad you did though.”
The voice was scratchy and strained, husky and rough. We all whipped around to see Ox’s head slightly raised. He had a hand up to shade his eyes from the sun. As we stared at the newly awakened orc, Arcadia sank to her knees and started crying what I could only assume were happy tears. Oxcard grinned thinly and shuffled back, bracing himself against the pillow that had been jammed under his head in an attempt to sit up a little straighter.
“Come on Arcay, get over here.”
Arcadia shuffled over to Ox, nearly crawling. She wrapped him in a gentle hug, careful not to disturb his wounds. He raised his arms and wrapped the human-shadeling in a hug. Her head nestled against his shoulder and she whispered something. The rest of us tried to give them what space we could. When Arcadia broke off the hug and sat back on her haunches, the white spots of skin on her face near her eyes were splotched red with tears. She turned to the rest of us.
“I cannot thank you enough. You all did what no one else was willing to.” It looked like she was searching for more words, but was having a hard time coming up with them. “We cannot thank you enough.”
Ox nodded low in an approximation of a bow.
“Assuming we’ve put enough distance between ourselves and the city, I think we’re safe for the moment. I should be ready to move on by nightfall.”
Oriwyn made a sound like someone lightly stepping on a chicken, a sort of strangled squawk with a burbling undercurrent thanks to her nose.
“Nightfall? As in nightfall tonight?!? As in you’re going to get up and walk tonight?” Her tone was incredulous, and I inclined to agree with her. Oxcard was clearly still not okay, and even if he could walk I didn’t think it would do his stitching any favors. Arcadia just smiled and stood up.
“Okay, we can get moving tonight if everyone else is okay to move. I’ve got a few golems here, and this time someone will be awake enough they won’t rip themselves open trying to get away from someone who is trying to help them.”
It was amazing how quickly her tone changed. She had just been tearfully hugging him, and now she sounded wry and sarcastic at her brother’s antics like he was a six year old who had brought her a mud pie or something. I shook my head in wonder - none of the rest of us in the party had siblings as we all were only children. Obviously Arcadia and Oxcard had not been born to the same mother - my rudimentary knowledge of how the birds and bees worked with the ancestries in Tala indicated as much - but still, they acted like how I thought siblings acted, and they obviously shared a deep bond. It felt good to have that dynamic around, as if it were something the rest of us might have been missing as a group. Shaking myself out of my reverie, I decided to make an announcement.
“I’ve been thinking, and I wanted to offer the two of you a chance to join our group.” I looked around at the existing members of the party, and they all nodded happily. Oriwyn nodded so aggressively she winced as the movement jostled her injured nose. Arcadia and Oxcard looked at each other. I hastened on to add more.
“You don’t need to decide now of course. Actually, if you’ll have us, I was going to ask if we could accompany you to wherever you planned to go Arcadia. We should be safer in a group if any part of the road is likely to be treacherous, plus new company is always a good thing.”
Oxcard said a few quiet things to Arcadia, who said a few quiet things back. I tried not to listen in despite my burning curiosity. Oxcard shrugged and said something else, and then Arcadia turned back to us all.
“My plan was to go to Diareen. It’s a trade city out towards the northern edge of the province. It’s not as big as Tripit, but I figured it would be big enough that we could find something to do.” Arcadia’s face fell a bit as she continued. “Also, I figured that having the river boats as well as the roads would make it easier to escape if Daisy caught up with us.”
The mood in the clearing soured as Daisy’s name was uttered, but after a few seconds Leor did her best to break the tension.
“Diareen, huh? Can’t say I’ve heard of it before, but it sounds like as good a plan as any. I vote that we follow along with Arcadia.”
There was a quick chorus of agreement as the rest of the party also expressed their support of the plan. We hadn’t spent long in Tripit, but we hoped this would also work well for us - we figured we could look for work as guards for a river boat or something. The only thing I was certain of was that it would be a long time before I accepted another rescue mission unless I absolutely couldn’t avoid it. I still felt a little nervous and jittery from the night before, and despite feeling mostly better the memory of the nightmare hung around in the back of my mind like the aftertaste of a bitter plant.
With our path being decided, I perked up and pushed down the previous night’s terrors. I felt a trickle of energy flow into my limbs and looked around the campground properly.
“Okay! With that being said, let’s make preparations for travel. How long is it to Diareen, Arcadia?”
Arcadia stayed kneeled next to Ox. As she spoke I noticed that she looked very tired - this whole ordeal had taken a huge toll on her, and it was beginning to show. I hoped I could convince her to take it easy for a bit. Regardless, she thought for a moment before giving me an estimate.
“About three weeks unfortunately, unless we get very lucky and the teamster is headed that way. Also at some point the road will go by the river so we could try and catch a river boat - they aren’t fast, especially since they’d be headed upstream instead of down, and we would need to pay our way, but we wouldn’t need to walk!”
I nodded, not particularly relishing the idea of that long spent traveling but resolved to its necessity. Leor spoke up with a question.
“Are there towns on the way? I don’t know how we’re doing with money exactly, but three weeks is a long time. We will definitely want lodging and we may even need to stop to take on work.”
Ox answered as Arcadia was trying to remember the route.
“Though Arcadia and I haven’t left Tripit much, I’m aware of some of the routes and where they lead. By my reckoning we have four or five small villages and two places big enough I’d call ‘em towns. Could be worse.”
I nodded, relieved. If the places that Ox had mentioned were spread out relatively evenly, that would be a village every few days - that felt a lot better than the ten day trek from Eightside to Tripit. With a grin, I stood and stretched.
“Well, I’ve been asleep too long today as it stands. Let’s get things prepared around here so we can head out tonight!”
There was a flurry of activity afterwards. With much protest, we managed to convince Arcadia to lay down for some rest. Despite her repeated insistence that she wasn’t tired, she was asleep within a minute of laying down and slept almost until nightfall. Oxcard also lounged, drifting into fitful bouts of sleep. As they rested, the rest of us tried to get things shifted around and packed as best we could. Most of our stuff had been at the Sable Sky since stealth had been so paramount to our mission, so we would need to wait for the teamster - Alex - to get back to actually be fully ready to go.
In addition to packing and resting, Oxcard, Oriwyn, and Laran took another go at closing Oxcard’s wound. I made the mistake of watching them remove the old stitching and had to stumble away to get sick in a bush. Eventually, I got the all-clear from Laran and came back into the clearing. Oriwyn had a bucket full of bloody rags that she was going to take to a river and wash. Leor volunteered to go with her, and the two of them left. Meanwhile Oxcard was sitting propped up fully after some time to recover and looked a little better, though redoing the stitches had obviously caused him pain. By the time Alex returned, Oxcard looked like he might actually be healthy enough to walk.
We still didn’t let him of course.
I talked with Alex a bit, thanking them for their help and making good on the price that they had haggled down from Laran the night previous. They offered to give us a ride, which we gladly accepted, and helped us pack our bags up as well. In return for their kindness I offered whatever services we could render to make their journey more comfortable. They accepted, though both of us knew there wasn’t much we could do to help. We learned that Alex would be able to take us as far as Squat’s Hollow - about a third of the total journey - before needing to attend to their own business, which was about as lucky as we could reasonably hope to be. As night began to fall, we had everything loaded on the teamster’s wagon, including Oxcard. Just in case, Oriwyn went ahead of the impromptu caravan to check for any of Daisy’s goons, but seeing no one, we made our way out to the road and started on the next stage of our journey.
Elsewhere: The large man was on his tiptoes trying to reach the top of a shelf, straining to get the can of beans down. Frustrated, he rocked his weight back down onto his heels and glared at the beans disdainfully. With a sigh, he called for his wife to help him out, hoping she wasn’t busy with customers. As his wife opened the door, he reflected on how lucky he had been to find her - she was kind, warm, smart, had a great way when dealing with people, and was taller than him by at least half a head. The man didn’t know why he liked tall women, but he knew he certainly did and fate had seen fit to imbue this lovely giantess with everything else he had been looking for in a partner. She immediately saw the offending can and got it down for him, taking a quick moment to give the man a quick kiss on the tip of his nose. A goofy smile spread across his face as she turned back and closed the storeroom door, returning to the desk at the front of the building. After all, Yada’s combination inn, bath-house, and general store was the only thing in the woods for miles, and someone would always show up eventually.
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Chapter 26 - Rest for the Righteous
Last Time: Aiden, Laran, Leor, and Oriwyn - under the employ of Arcadia - executed a daring plan to rescue Oxcard from the clutches of the crime boss Daisy. They managed to get to his room without trouble, but leaving proved to be much more difficult. Laran was cornered and forced to fight several thugs after being seen while skulking around Daisy’s compound. The rest of the party found him and made sure he won the fight but were unable to prevent one of the thugs from alerting the entire building to their presence. What followed was a harrowing flight from Daisy’s forces and Daisy herself. With Leor’s assistance, everyone was able to clear the building and run off into the night, but not without sustaining several injuries. The party made good their getaway however with their client and target in tow and, determined to stay ahead of Daisy’s reprisal, left the city of Tripit behind.
Daisy clutched my throat, the slashes across her face leaking crimson blood that pooled in her snarled teeth. She looked like a wild thing and had me both lifted and pinned to a wall as if I weighed almost nothing. I struggled to breath, kicking my legs feebly, until I suddenly woke up.
Laran was staring down at me. He looked very concerned and more than a little frightened. It took my brain another few seconds to adjust to our surroundings and fully shake off the nightmare.
All of us were arrayed around a clearing underneath hastily constructed tents. I could see Oriwyn crouched beside Ox, who was laying out in the middle of the clearing. Oriwyn’s nose was swollen and her green skin was mottled purple around it - her face looked a little crooked in general, but she seemed to be moving fine enough. Arcadia stood next to the pair, holding a fan and waving it at Oxcard’s face. Groaning, I sat up. Leor sat on a tree stump and glanced at me with a tired grin. Brams lay curled up by her feet, and every once in a while I noticed she would reach down and scratch his head while Oriwyn busied herself with Oxcard.
As I sat up, Laran’s concerned expression broke into a relieved smile so genuine that it made my heart hurt. I wasn’t even injured, yet here he was acting like I’d just gotten up off my death bed. My head still felt fuzzy, so when he held a canteen out to me I took it gladly and took a big drink of water. I granted myself a few moments of silence before getting down to the business of trying to lead again.
“Where exactly are we again? I remember slumping down on the road when Arcadia’s golem gave out, but I don’t really remember anything after that.”
Laran smiled and nodded. The sun shone down on his jade-green skin and helped burn away the remaining damp from the night before. Laran sat back and seemed to finally properly relax. As he did, I couldn’t stop my attention from being wholly drawn to him.
In that moment he was really, really good to look at. And listen to. And be around.
“Ain’t surprised you don’t remember much - we had a time a’ things for sure. Last night - g’morning by the way - a teamster named Alex found us and dragged our sorry hides to this clearin’ off the road. They didn’t ask much about us, though they seemed to get the impression we were in need a’ help something fierce. Right now they’re headed back to Tripit to get our stuff from the Sable Sky - I worked out a price to make it worth their time and delay, then they only accepted half o’ it - and we’re patching everyone up.”
I nodded thoughtfully and took another swig of water. As I swished it in my mouth I realized my throat felt raw as if I’d been yelling or screaming - I hoped I hadn’t been and that the raw feeling in my throat had been solely caused by stress. My mind flicked through a few things to say - I figured I was the Commander, and as bad as we all looked and felt we had still won - before I landed on a sardonic tone. It was time to celebrate with the troops.
“Well everyone, good work. Sorry for sleeping in - I need my beauty sleep much more than the rest of you!” I grinned in what I hoped was a confident way. Oriwyn laughed a bit - it sounded like it hurt her a little to laugh unfortunately - while Leor just snorted. My tone and face shifted to sincerity as I continued.
“More seriously everyone, I think we did it. I think we won despite the odds. How is Oxcard doing?”
I glanced at Arcadia. Tears welled in her eyes and I could tell she was furiously blinking them back.
“Ox is okay, or stable at least. He keeps on breathing and Ori thinks she’s finally managed to fully stem the bleeding.” Arcadia looked down, worried, at her brother. Oriwyn smiled up at her and stood, wiping her slightly bloody hands on a cloth she had on her person. The goblin-mouse reached over and patted the taller woman’s shoulder.
“He’ll be right as rain, especially when he wakes up I think. He’s really quite deft with a needle - I’ve seen sloppier stitch work on people’s pants than he managed to do to himself.”
The ghost of a smile touched Arcadia’s lips as she gazed down at the sleeping Oxcard.
“Yes, he’s always been good with needle and thread. He was the one who kept our clothes in good repair when we were growing up, and unfortunately this isn’t his first improvised surgery. Ox is a survivor. He’ll pull through.”
I noticed, but obviously chose not to comment on, the quiver in her voice when she said that her brother would pull through. I looked him over myself - he seemed to be breathing evenly, and there were some bandages tied around his whole torso that were yet to be spotted with blood, so that seemed like a good sign at least. Satisfied, I turned back to address the group as a whole.
“Can I get a status report from everyone? How are we all doing?”
Laran immediately answered.
“I thought you might want to know! For injuries, I’ve received a small cut on my torso. Arcadia has some pretty bad gashes on her left palm and right forearm. Oriwyn is bruised and her nose was broken - Leor snapped it back in place a few hours ago when Ori started having some trouble breathing, so it looks pretty nasty. Speaking of Leor, she has some burns on her hands from her stunt with the lightning, but Ori managed to find some weird plant I’d never heard of that’s been helping with the pain. Finally, Brams got something of a cut, but it isn’t very deep. It is on his wing though, so as it is healing he will need to be careful about moving too much.”
I nodded and thanked Laran for his report. He looked pleased with himself, and I resolved to thank him privately later for helping me lead the team. All in all, we had gotten off relatively okay. All of us were alive and we had managed to achieve our objective. I took a moment to savor the victory before my mind stumbled into the next inevitable question.
What now?
I sighed as I began to contemplate the question. We likely couldn’t go back to Tripit since Daisy knew what we looked like. Leor might be able to chance it since she’d been outside the whole time, but even then I didn’t think any of us were in a hurry to test that theory out. As another consideration, Arcadia had been through a lot with us, and I felt like I needed to address that fact before too awful long.
“Arcadia, what’s your plan? Or what was your plan? Because I think I can speak for all of us when I say that we don’t want to go back to Tripit any time soon.” I said it with a laugh, but Arcadia looked anxious. I suddenly realized what I said could come across as accusatory. “Hey, it’s not your fault. We knew what we were signing up for and we all did it willingly.”
“You shouldn’t have. Glad you did though.”
The voice was scratchy and strained, husky and rough. We all whipped around to see Ox’s head slightly raised. He had a hand up to shade his eyes from the sun. As we stared at the newly awakened orc, Arcadia sank to her knees and started crying what I could only assume were happy tears. Oxcard grinned thinly and shuffled back, bracing himself against the pillow that had been jammed under his head in an attempt to sit up a little straighter.
“Come on Arcay, get over here.”
Arcadia shuffled over to Ox, nearly crawling. She wrapped him in a gentle hug, careful not to disturb his wounds. He raised his arms and wrapped the human-shadeling in a hug. Her head nestled against his shoulder and she whispered something. The rest of us tried to give them what space we could. When Arcadia broke off the hug and sat back on her haunches, the white spots of skin on her face near her eyes were splotched red with tears. She turned to the rest of us.
“I cannot thank you enough. You all did what no one else was willing to.” It looked like she was searching for more words, but was having a hard time coming up with them. “We cannot thank you enough.”
Ox nodded low in an approximation of a bow.
“Assuming we’ve put enough distance between ourselves and the city, I think we’re safe for the moment. I should be ready to move on by nightfall.”
Oriwyn made a sound like someone lightly stepping on a chicken, a sort of strangled squawk with a burbling undercurrent thanks to her nose.
“Nightfall? As in nightfall tonight?!? As in you’re going to get up and walk tonight?” Her tone was incredulous, and I inclined to agree with her. Oxcard was clearly still not okay, and even if he could walk I didn’t think it would do his stitching any favors. Arcadia just smiled and stood up.
“Okay, we can get moving tonight if everyone else is okay to move. I’ve got a few golems here, and this time someone will be awake enough they won’t rip themselves open trying to get away from someone who is trying to help them.”
It was amazing how quickly her tone changed. She had just been tearfully hugging him, and now she sounded wry and sarcastic at her brother’s antics like he was a six year old who had brought her a mud pie or something. I shook my head in wonder - none of the rest of us in the party had siblings as we all were only children. Obviously Arcadia and Oxcard had not been born to the same mother - my rudimentary knowledge of how the birds and bees worked with the ancestries in Tala indicated as much - but still, they acted like how I thought siblings acted, and they obviously shared a deep bond. It felt good to have that dynamic around, as if it were something the rest of us might have been missing as a group. Shaking myself out of my reverie, I decided to make an announcement.
“I’ve been thinking, and I wanted to offer the two of you a chance to join our group.” I looked around at the existing members of the party, and they all nodded happily. Oriwyn nodded so aggressively she winced as the movement jostled her injured nose. Arcadia and Oxcard looked at each other. I hastened on to add more.
“You don’t need to decide now of course. Actually, if you’ll have us, I was going to ask if we could accompany you to wherever you planned to go Arcadia. We should be safer in a group if any part of the road is likely to be treacherous, plus new company is always a good thing.”
Oxcard said a few quiet things to Arcadia, who said a few quiet things back. I tried not to listen in despite my burning curiosity. Oxcard shrugged and said something else, and then Arcadia turned back to us all.
“My plan was to go to Diareen. It’s a trade city out towards the northern edge of the province. It’s not as big as Tripit, but I figured it would be big enough that we could find something to do.” Arcadia’s face fell a bit as she continued. “Also, I figured that having the river boats as well as the roads would make it easier to escape if Daisy caught up with us.”
The mood in the clearing soured as Daisy’s name was uttered, but after a few seconds Leor did her best to break the tension.
“Diareen, huh? Can’t say I’ve heard of it before, but it sounds like as good a plan as any. I vote that we follow along with Arcadia.”
There was a quick chorus of agreement as the rest of the party also expressed their support of the plan. We hadn’t spent long in Tripit, but we hoped this would also work well for us - we figured we could look for work as guards for a river boat or something. The only thing I was certain of was that it would be a long time before I accepted another rescue mission unless I absolutely couldn’t avoid it. I still felt a little nervous and jittery from the night before, and despite feeling mostly better the memory of the nightmare hung around in the back of my mind like the aftertaste of a bitter plant.
With our path being decided, I perked up and pushed down the previous night’s terrors. I felt a trickle of energy flow into my limbs and looked around the campground properly.
“Okay! With that being said, let’s make preparations for travel. How long is it to Diareen, Arcadia?”
Arcadia stayed kneeled next to Ox. As she spoke I noticed that she looked very tired - this whole ordeal had taken a huge toll on her, and it was beginning to show. I hoped I could convince her to take it easy for a bit. Regardless, she thought for a moment before giving me an estimate.
“About three weeks unfortunately, unless we get very lucky and the teamster is headed that way. Also at some point the road will go by the river so we could try and catch a river boat - they aren’t fast, especially since they’d be headed upstream instead of down, and we would need to pay our way, but we wouldn’t need to walk!”
I nodded, not particularly relishing the idea of that long spent traveling but resolved to its necessity. Leor spoke up with a question.
“Are there towns on the way? I don’t know how we’re doing with money exactly, but three weeks is a long time. We will definitely want lodging and we may even need to stop to take on work.”
Ox answered as Arcadia was trying to remember the route.
“Though Arcadia and I haven’t left Tripit much, I’m aware of some of the routes and where they lead. By my reckoning we have four or five small villages and two places big enough I’d call ‘em towns. Could be worse.”
I nodded, relieved. If the places that Ox had mentioned were spread out relatively evenly, that would be a village every few days - that felt a lot better than the ten day trek from Eightside to Tripit. With a grin, I stood and stretched.
“Well, I’ve been asleep too long today as it stands. Let’s get things prepared around here so we can head out tonight!”
There was a flurry of activity afterwards. With much protest, we managed to convince Arcadia to lay down for some rest. Despite her repeated insistence that she wasn’t tired, she was asleep within a minute of laying down and slept almost until nightfall. Oxcard also lounged, drifting into fitful bouts of sleep. As they rested, the rest of us tried to get things shifted around and packed as best we could. Most of our stuff had been at the Sable Sky since stealth had been so paramount to our mission, so we would need to wait for the teamster - Alex - to get back to actually be fully ready to go.
In addition to packing and resting, Oxcard, Oriwyn, and Laran took another go at closing Oxcard’s wound. I made the mistake of watching them remove the old stitching and had to stumble away to get sick in a bush. Eventually, I got the all-clear from Laran and came back into the clearing. Oriwyn had a bucket full of bloody rags that she was going to take to a river and wash. Leor volunteered to go with her, and the two of them left. Meanwhile Oxcard was sitting propped up fully after some time to recover and looked a little better, though redoing the stitches had obviously caused him pain. By the time Alex returned, Oxcard looked like he might actually be healthy enough to walk.
We still didn’t let him of course.
I talked with Alex a bit, thanking them for their help and making good on the price that they had haggled down from Laran the night previous. They offered to give us a ride, which we gladly accepted, and helped us pack our bags up as well. In return for their kindness I offered whatever services we could render to make their journey more comfortable. They accepted, though both of us knew there wasn’t much we could do to help. We learned that Alex would be able to take us as far as Squat’s Hollow - about a third of the total journey - before needing to attend to their own business, which was about as lucky as we could reasonably hope to be. As night began to fall, we had everything loaded on the teamster’s wagon, including Oxcard. Just in case, Oriwyn went ahead of the impromptu caravan to check for any of Daisy’s goons, but seeing no one, we made our way out to the road and started on the next stage of our journey.
Elsewhere: The large man was on his tiptoes trying to reach the top of a shelf, straining to get the can of beans down. Frustrated, he rocked his weight back down onto his heels and glared at the beans disdainfully. With a sigh, he called for his wife to help him out, hoping she wasn’t busy with customers. As his wife opened the door, he reflected on how lucky he had been to find her - she was kind, warm, smart, had a great way when dealing with people, and was taller than him by at least half a head. The man didn’t know why he liked tall women, but he knew he certainly did and fate had seen fit to imbue this lovely giantess with everything else he had been looking for in a partner. She immediately saw the offending can and got it down for him, taking a quick moment to give the man a quick kiss on the tip of his nose. A goofy smile spread across his face as she turned back and closed the storeroom door, returning to the desk at the front of the building. After all, Yada’s combination inn, bath-house, and general store was the only thing in the woods for miles, and someone would always show up eventually.
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Hi all, my unbelievably beautiful girl occasionally Crushes ants and other smaller bugs barefoot... and she has incredible feet!! She is a natural giantess! We are thinking of creating some material to sell. Anyone know if this would be profitable? Anyone with experience in this offer any advice? Seems like it would be an option to just sell feet pics too... any advice/customers appreciated
Thanks

Giantess Feet, butt or so. I’ve just started and its very profitable at the moment. The shooting process is quite different, but not that hard to learn! Share you experiences

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Alien-Nation Chapter 165: General Quarters

[Chapter Summary:
Recreant: Gavin keeps tabs on someone and tries to suss out if Emperor's claims that they're arresting "everyone" has any merit. ]
Khan: An old student of Dr. Sampson's stops by to deliver a warning about the closed border, and instructions for the Sampson family's extraction from an unnamed entity.
General Quarters: Amilita and Azraea get in a verbal tussle before Amilita decides to work with Azraea.]
Recreant
Gavin longed for the end of this impromptu overnight shift spent staring at a wall, like a prisoner. He felt he could be elsewhere, doing something more constructive, even if he couldn’t put a name to the activity. Instead, he’d dutifully stared at the pieces of office flair pinned to the bland, inoffensive gray board in front of him, carefully curated to present a certain image: That of an inoffensive Office Drone’s five-to-nine, content with this home-away-from-home drudgery.
With great difficulty, Gavin Martin forced himself to reframe the time spent thus far after having sat for what felt like an eternity, lying in wait for his mark to make his move. At least he would get kudos for picking up the sudden night shift. In this industry, perception of value was value in and of itself. Gavin hated the maxim, but couldn’t deny its truth.
That was when his mark at last started their preparations to go home, each movement amplified by the office’s relative emptiness. The rustle of papers being stacked atop one another, the click of the laptop being closed, the chime of an Omni-pad being turned off. This time, he definitely wasn’t going to the bathroom. The last time had been a false alarm that he’d almost jumped from his seat over. Gavin marked the time, locked his own PC and stood. In a few short strides, he had caught up with ‘The Boss,’ as he wandered past his cubicle, falling into stride behind the broad man’s wake as he unwrapped a piece of gum.
Together they made their way past the rows of government office cubicles to their floor’s elevator bay, both silent. Gavin stepped past to press the ‘down’ button first, summoning the tiny little box that would take them to the parking garage. Now came a moment of intimacy between what the Boss might assume were two people who barely knew one another. But Gavin knew every intimate detail about this man; His unusual habits and schedule, the fact that he was married twice. It was in these waters of loose familiarity Gavin knew he had to act.
Up close and personal, where the slightest mistake might mean he would be spotted, outed, and it would all be over. The risks would all be worth it, if he could pry information from the man.
“So, have you seen what’s going on in Delaware?” He asked mildly, not offering his own opinion. Sparking conversation was easy enough for him, he found, and the sparks he cast always seemed to catch. He’d been told he just had ‘one of those faces,’ though he’d always thought it plain, others had described it as ‘trustworthy.’
“Of course I saw, Martin. The border is shut.” The tone was one of ‘don’t be an idiot.’ Unfortunately for them both, albeit for different reasons, Gavin played a convincing one.
The next question had to be asked carefully, and timed precisely. “Think they’ll, you know… do anything?”
“Hm?”
“Here in Maryland, they didn’t seal our border, you know? Even during the worst days, which hopefully are behind us.” Fortunately, it seemed the man was just as intrigued with the possibilities of the situation, and missed Gavin’s break of his usual character. The brown haired young man didn’t note any suspicion in the boss’s dark eyes.
“Who knows,” he grunted. “Who gives a shit?” He added, spitting out the gum into his cup of old, convenience store coffee, staring after it as if annoyed at being made to waste such a fresh wad.
Gavin stayed silent, waiting. Fishing had taught him the value of patience, and to read movements below the water’s surface. Out of sight, certainly, but not imperceptible- at least, not if you trained yourself.
The silence stretched, and at last, the big man grunted again in annoyance. “Seems we’re always the last to find this shit out. ‘Oh, your informatics team in Wilmington? Yeah, just about all dead.’” With an exaggerated wave of the hand to signal his irritation, he continued. “‘The office building that got blown up right next to the capitol? You may wanna correct that report to say ‘terrorist bomb’ instead of ‘orbital strike,’ if you know what’s good for you.” He sounded disgusted, then seemed to stiffen at the intense curiosity Gavin belatedly realized he was accidentally expressing, backing off and forcing a slight smile at the boss’s expression, as if he were in on some joke with the man. “Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me if they nuke the damn place tip to tip. Hardly a great loss- what’s their population, less than a million? And such an irritating, useless bunch. Their main export was financial crimes, and with the shuffling of financial laws under the new system, even that’s gone.”
“Right, sir,” Gavin agreed quickly. “Very annoying. Though it would be nice if the Shil’vati paid us the courtesy of at least a head’s up, save us a bit of work.” he forced out a chuckle.
“Well, we’re Mister Mushroom these days.”
“Mister Mushroom?”
“Kept in the dark and fed bullshit.”
Another obligatory, forced chuckle at the joke, and Gavin admitted to himself it wasn’t a bad one.
The elevator dinged, and the man Gavin was speaking to stepped out, and Gavin almost let out a sigh- except the elevator doors jolted, then reopened as the man jammed the tip of his umbrella back into the closing doors. Sweat broke out on the back of Gavin’s neck.
“You know,” the big man muttered slowly, then staring Gavin in the eyes. “I stopped by your desk earlier…I didn’t figure you were one to be involved in…go-karting, was it?”
“Yes, sir.”
Gavin was alarmed. He’d been away from his desk for only a short bathroom break to deliver a status update.
“I thought sports championships in the state were all on hold.”
“Yes sir, they are.” Gavin admitted quietly, the cover story bubbling up from memory, Gavin pretended to look like it was genuine passion springing up from his heart as he searched for the words. “It’s…chaotic, out there on the test track. Even working on it doesn’t always go the way it’s expected to. So it’s a way I barely have control over. Things break. Other things work well, and then break…and, well, I just wanted it to be ready in case we needed it.”
The big man chuckled. “Sounds like you’ve picked up a hunk of scrap you’re running around the circuit.”
Gavin was glad he wasn’t questioned on the ‘we.’ “Yes sir, something like that. It’s a miracle it works at all, after it got pulled apart. Bit of a…uh, you know, diversion from my usual day-to-day, or even my other hobbies. That’s the new world we live in, though, right? Adapt or die.”
The big man’s grin seemed genuine, for what little that meant. “That’s right. Adapt or die,” he repeated the mantra thoughtfully. “Have a good evening. Maybe I’ll see you try a lap sometime.” The big man pulled the umbrella back and spun his considerable mass around on his heel, disappearing from Gavin’s sight behind the pair of sliding stainless steel doors.
Gavin knew there were cameras and microphones all throughout the building, and didn’t let out any hint of the stress leaving his body. He let the nervous energy carry him to his base-model old ford focus, the electric blue-raspberry paint peeling back from being parked on the street outside the family home; the garage was too full of crap already to be parked in. Now he’d have to requisition a go kart to his list, too.
He pulled out of the basement garage, passing the scaffolding of the remodeling work where the workers were busy adding a landing pad for shil’vati shuttles.
Once clear of watching cameras, he fished out a curious device set up by a prodigious young man from his pocket, placing it in the hands-free phone holder and called a device quite similar to his own, both having been sourced from the same rather entrepreneurial, if ethically challenged motorcyclist.
“Yeah?” The gruff voice barked without introduction.
Gavin cleared his throat. “There may be something to what Emperor’s saying on the airwaves. How goes the ‘kart?’”
“Good enough. Will we need it?”
“That was never in doubt in my mind. Get it ready, I’m on my way.”
“What? We’ll need you to arrange transit for the assets we’ve got in-state.”
“And that’s what I’ll be facilitating, in a manner of speaking.”
The unhappy silence on the other end of the line may’ve just been contemplation, but if Gavin were a betting man he knew his boss- his real boss, would never let a moment go to waste, and was likely giving orders off-mic for final preparations to hastily be made.
“Fine. Come in.”
“You got it running?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘running’ in the operative word.”
“I…don’t understand.” The line was clear, or as clear as it could be. His boss could be paranoid.
“We found a workaround for that. Just get here, you’ve got a train to catch.”
Khan
The knock on the heavy old wooden door was urgent and rapid. Had Mister Sampson not been expecting it, he’d have jerked awake, as he was typically asleep by this hour. Staying awake was a task made even more arduous by the incessant pecking of his wife, who was possessed with a certain anxiety that lent itself to seeing his awakened state as an opportunity to get a helping hand on whatever jumped to mind. She was in an unusually feisty mood given the town hall’s proceedings, and the current total lack of data.
As it was, the porch light and thin glass sidelite revealed a familiar face that looked uncomfortable even standing there. A former post doc student at his lab, now a Doctor in his own right.
“The border is sealed,” Doctor Khan said by way of introduction, pressing the folded piece of paper into his former professor’s hand. “But it won’t be, at least, not forever. Pack your bags, and make sure you’re ready when there’s an opening. They’ll arrange pickup tomorrow morning and some special instructions, in exchange for all your hard work. Again, it’s tomorrow morning, assuming their preparations go through.”
Mister Sampson nodded to show he was listening, doing his best to ignore his pounding headache. Every word hit harder than the old brass knocker had struck the door.
His former student glanced around him, eyebrows rising in surprise. Mister Sampson didn’t need to turn around to know his wife had come up behind him: Ever light on her feet, a house settled on its foundations and thick timbers centuries ago on a concrete foundation gave no creaks, hiding her movement well. Even their son had picked up on the house’s sturdy nature, slipping in and out at will.
“Bill,” Mary-Anne whispered somewhat tersely. “We’re not leaving- not until Elias is back.”
“Leave him a note,” urged Doctor Khan. “Scribble something on the refrigerator, or something. He might even have better luck on foot. Personally? I’m getting the kids and trying to ford the border that way. The aliens, they’re supposedly grabbing everyone. I’m not going to wait around until tomorrow morning, when-”
Mister Sampson coughed, interrupting before a fight could start. “Pardon,” he apologized, despite not feeling the least bit sorry for sparing all present the brewing contention erupting into arguments. “You’re well within your rights to try and leave,” his voice was low and slow, and Doctor Khan’s anxious disposition seemed somewhat settled by the weighty words of his former mentor. “But we’ll be staying put, I think, at least until Elias is back.”
“And then?”
Mister Sampson silently but meaningfully glanced at the paper tucked into the folds of his giant hand, by way of answer.
Doctor Khan shook his head.
“You’ve more faith in them than I, Doctor Sampson. Tomorrow Morning. Good luck.”
Mister Sampson gave him a slow and solemn nod. “You too.”
When the door had closed and he was alone again, he read them. Tomorrow. Eight thirty. Tune to the radio at this frequency for instructions.
General Quarters
Amilita barged into the base’s headquarters, marching up to the desk of the Governess-General as the office staffers all but threw themselves out of her way. She found it difficult to force herself to display even the barest veneer of military decorum, and harder still to stand poised perfectly and waiting to be recognized amidst the low hum of duty officers busily filling out orders in Azraea’s office.
At last, Azraea seemed to come to a stopping point and waved Amilita to her desk without so much as looking up.
“What in the name of the Empress are you doing?” She demanded of her commanding officer, in a low hiss she’d never used on a superior in her entire life, not even in school or at the academy, no matter how wrong she knew they were.
“When your opponent refuses to play by the rules, do you continue to play anyways, or do you change the game?” Azraea answered Amilita with a question. The old battle ax had not so much as a drop of fear in her voice. She then busied herself by tapping on her screen with a casual ease of command that Amilita might have envied, had she not a gut feeling that it was heartless callousness drove Azraea’s certainty of her own decisions, rather than supreme confidence that they were the best ones.
“We’re supposed to govern and lead, and if we carry this out there will be no one to govern. We can not-“
“I’ve decided to leave concerns about what is ‘governing best’ to the civilians,” Azraea finally broke her staring match with the command screen to almost spit the word.
The giantess knew she had to at least try and talk sense into her commander, late though the attempt would be.
“We have a duty to uphold.”
“Yes, and we’ve lost sight of that, against my better judgment. Mine is the one I was chosen for. I’ve explained my perspective to the now Acting Fleet Admiral, and before you even ask, I have her full support. See, I took this role precisely for this eventuality, because I knew matters might come down to this. I took the governesship in hand precisely because I didn’t want some feckless civilian body to try and get in the way of what would have to be done, the way Governess Bal’Shir jumped in the way of General Zylkyn time and again. All to protect her own job, her precious reputation, rather than admitting the reality of the situation she’d inherited. I have no such political ambitions, nor worries of my future.”
“To do what is ‘necessary’?” Amilita asked critically, folding her arms, and forcing her hands to stop clenching- her forearms were bulging.
“Just so,” Azraea admitted frankly. “We’re the military, we aren’t summoned to do tasks that are profitable and pleasant.”
“Then tell me- I’m your junior, I should be informed about what you think is necessary, that is how we can move together-“
Azraea crooked a corner of her lip up. She knew all along about the plot to unseat her. Amilita was suddenly glad she hadn’t taken up Lesha’s offer to play ‘poker,’ because she knew her shock was written on her face.
“Are we finally finished playing pretend?” Her commanding officer asked mildly. “As for what is ‘necessary’? I will force the fight, Amilita, no matter the cost, because I have to. I will do that for the Empire.” She pointed to the display of the strategic overview map of the state, and then stared up at the giantess, the intensity of the woman’s gaze more than bridging the gap in the two’s physical size.
“They think you’re coming for everyone. While it may not be the work of a General, the least you could do is put out a statement professing the truth, that it’s just the insurgents we want. That we’re questioning some, demanding answers, sure, and arresting those we know, or at least strongly suspect of insurgent behaviors. Some of the people you’re forcing to take their side are sure to be innocents, people who’ve never even held a weapon before!”
Amilita had been hoping for an admission of regret, at least. Instead, Azraea’s wry grin broadened into a fiercely self-satisfied and genuine smile. “In other words, not much of a threat, and we’ll have nothing to fear from them taking up arms. What was it, a thousand to one loss ratio you managed? I bet I can beat that in the next day or two.”
The answer sent Amilita rocking back on her heels. “Ma’am,” she gasped. “You can’t be considering what I think you are. If you are, it’s almost a mass murder…those were soldiers I faced, this is…” her hands searched for something to grip, and she settled for the general’s desk to steady herself.
“It’s war, Amilita,” the Governess-General snipped. “I hope you don’t imagine frontline service demands anything less, or else you haven’t worked your rank, leaving me to wonder how you earned it. Lots of commendations, little stomach to show for it.”
“War?” Amilita challenged, ignoring the insult. “The war’s over, their government has surrendered, they signed a treaty.”
Azraea sighed and put a hand to her forehead, massaging her temples, as if she were arguing with a recalcitrant, if precocious and idealistic child. Is this how it feels to be Elias? A part of her wondered, as Azraea formulated her response, speaking patiently.
“Tell me- What is one expected to do if the planet they are garrisoned on takes up arms against the Empress, against their governess, her militia, and continues to rail against her even in the face of the military’s presence, the Interior, even when presented with a show of all their guns and might? What is routinely done, when the populace of a planet in our empire proves unwilling to cooperate in ending that insurgency? What is done, if that planet of rebels are Shil’vati?”
Amilita didn’t answer, even though Azraea’s steady gaze didn’t break. Finally, she grit the words out. “They’re to be dealt with, ma’am. Harshly. As traitors to the Empress. But the situation is-”
“-Does the enemy wear a uniform?” Azraea interrupted.
Gritting her teeth, Amilita begrudgingly let out: “Typically, masks.”
“Otherwise? A mask is typically worn even among rebellions on our own worlds. Do those governesses on rebellious worlds target only those of their population who wear masks?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Do you open fire on a Roach, the moment you see one? That is our doctrine, is it not, regardless of the form they take or uniform they wear? Special circumstances do allow for mercy, but we do have guidelines in place.”
“We took an oath to never allow a diplomatic fiasco like that to happen again. The Empress swore she’d ushered in an era of peace!” Amilita protested.
“Peace has made us weak!” Azraea roared, and Amilita knew she’d struck a nerve. Now she just had to survive having done so.
“Ma’am, peace- that’s our Empress’s orders. We are to obey, as good subjects must. That is her will!”
Azraea’s chest heaved as she struggled to contain her temper.
“We muster forces to protect the loyal. We are not armed to not kill. Fleets, armies, troops, they exist to kill and hunt down her enemies, be they the traitors within or armies on the border. Think of the social unrest on Naavist. The response to the slaughter of the Saren Garrison. The skirmishes on the border. The uprising in the Tullusa system. The secession of the Pawr system after that cult took hold, and the subsequent invasion and resettlement in the wake of its devastation. We have been crueler to our own people as a matter of routine than I am being now. Why should we treat humanity any differently than we would treat ourselves? Those events were catastrophes, but no censure followed the officers who did what they had to. I’ll leave the muttered complaints of the outcome to those same politicians who created this fiasco. I am here to end the fiasco, and I care not what others say in the wake of the decisions I’ve made.”
“Ma’am, the eyes of the galaxy are affixed to earth. This is not a normal world. We must tread carefully, or else the reputation of the empire will surely be damaged. If we treat them too harshly, we’ll be seen as monsters. If we fail to capture him even after resorting to such measures, we’ll only escalate his fame, and seem all the weaker. The peace we’ve fought for will seem to be one we needed from a position of weakness, rather than one we’ve offered to the galaxy. I don’t want to think of what may follow in time.”
“I will leave the politics to the minds of the noblewomen who will sign documents with their hands, the control of narrative to the lips of our Interior. Those are the other parts of our body politic. I, however, am a clenched fist, and have been let loose to smash this rebellion. You do not teach a fist to espouse high-minded ideals, Amilita, else it tends to disagree with its role and charm others into agreement that it need not be wielded as it is. That’s how you get a rebellion, and more worlds burn than you can comprehend.” Her voice had a tinge of sadness to it. “I studied history, Amilita. In what spare time I had. I saw patterns of how wars began. Strife, weakness, stagnation…”
“You burden those parts of the empire’s body unnecessarily,” Amilita said. “Let the mind focus on trade and prosperity. Let that voice sing praise of your deeds rather than scramble to explain them to others. A clenched fist may still offer a greeting.”
“I hadn’t taken you for one so well-read,” Azraea mused. “Regrettably, by the time I came to this post, the chances of any other outcome was already slim. I gave this place every chance to turn course. What alternatives have we, Amilita, that don’t make a mockery of our Empire, of our fleet, of our forces, or allow him to grow unchecked, our noblewomen in continued captivity?”
Amilita worked her jaw. Terms. She wanted to scream the word, though she knew Azraea had refused them already. Azraea took the silence as an admission of no answer at all, of acquiescence, and continued speaking.
“By sparing them what is necessary, sparing them what we have undergone ourselves to forge ourselves into one Empire, we spoil them. When we do so it is to their developmental detriment to reward the deviant, and punish the loyal. Those loyal sons and daughters who marched in our stead. The loyal who died for our dream. How many of them would you let perish before you took action to protect the dream of a loyal humanity? Would you wait until that boy you so dote on disappears before you take action?” Amilita almost started, and at last Azraea relented, adding somewhat more softly: “Sometimes to protect the ones we love, action must be taken, before tragedy strikes. I’ve never known the caress, but I have known love. If you refuse your duty, if you refuse to carry out what must be done, then you are free to resign your commission.”
Amilita’s emotions roiled. What could she do? The Fleet Admiral, if Azraea was speaking the truth, would offer no salvation to the civilians. If Amilita resigned, whomever Azraea replaced her with would be less competent, less capable, and perhaps more aligned with Azraea, more ready to agree with the one who promoted her. Her mind went through the chain of command before arriving at the obvious answer. The terrible answer. Captain Goshen. Promotions issued so quickly was unthinkable in the modern age, but Azraea had already offered her opinion on the modern military. Goshen might be appointed acting Major or even Field Commander. She’d already ingratiated herself to Azraea with her obvious, brutal, straightforward suggestion of an orbital strike during that first meeting. There was a chance Azraea might choose another, yet Amilita held no doubt the replacement would acquiesce to anything Azraea asked, albeit incapably. With great loss of life. And as the Governess-General pointed out, correctly, some of those lives might be ones she cherished.
The situation was spiraling, that much was true. They hadn’t counted estimations until the insurgency would die down, and hadn’t done so for almost a year. They’d resigned themselves to only bracing and waiting for the next tragedy. Was this truly the path of necessity? The way to protect the ones she cared for? Amilita had already almost lost him once, and remembered his sobbing in her arms. Yet still she shook in anger over how she used him against her.
“No, ma’am.” She felt as if she had just ‘signed away her soul.’
“See your duties through when you receive them. Orders are to be carried out with no hesitation. Is that clear?”
“Ma’am- the- Yes. Yes, ma’am.“ Amilita managed to contain herself- just barely.
“The enemy will show itself, Lieutenant Colonel, and soon. Then we either imprison or kill enough to sway the expected voting outcome to prevail- or at least, convincingly. Those we imprisoned will be labeled with felony crimes with light sentences to put them to work, removing their right to vote but also putting them through the system for reform and mandatory classes. With this, we will be granted a fresh lease on governing, a new chance to rebuild with a more compliant, somewhat chastened populace. We will have their champion in chains, ready to face the Empress’s justice, and our system ladies either martyred or free, but either way this continued embarrassment will be at an end. Whatever the populace’s future complaints, whatever their malcontent, they will route it through proper channels and behave as proper citizens. Or else.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Amilita said reflexively; she was operating on autopilot now. This was insane. It was going to result in untold bloodshed. She forced her mind back into the present. One needed only look at what became of the dropship downed by enemy fire almost a year ago now, to know where running on autopilot might lead. She had to keep her wits about her.
“One more matter, before you go about your duties in preparing to organize the new arrivals. You’re fond of their histories, so I did page through them as well. The supposedly humane republic that this ‘country’ pretends it is based off of would purge any revolting provinces, complete with all the other many horrors of war, displacing them from their homelands, or sometimes salting the earth in their wake. Anyone who says this will spark future rebellion has lived only in times of peace. The other humans here would understand the object lesson rather well, I think, given this heralded a time of peace in the wake. They should be grateful I’m not so cruel as to have begun by orbitally bombarding this pathetic little state, end to end, and ‘salting the earth’ in the wake of their failure to cooperate. Don’t let matters come to that. Do your job. See to it that the troops are deployed, and that any resistance is found and summarily crushed. Kill anyone who gets in your way. It will spare many more.”
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