The Guardians Book 4: Storm Conjurer

By W. H. Cann

Entering into a treaty with the Olarans, a race who can block the effects of magic, and the Order of Elora, commanded by Imperial sorcerers who were the most loyal servants of Emperor Belack, Empress Hefrask implements the next phase of her plan for the conquest of the Ladorran Quadrant. The second phase involves confronting and removing the primary threat to her plans: Grogaan and the Guardians of the Republic.

Grogaan’s enhanced abilities in the art of magic, his inner calm and impeccable self-control, are put the ultimate test when one friend is abducted and another killed when confronted by the sorcerers from the Order of Elora and the Hebradon Empire who have united in the fight against the Guardians of the Republic. Facing opposition from several Guardians, Grogaan ventures deep into Imperial controlled space in the search for knowledge of the Guardians, their magic, and why they failed to retain their postion of trust and power in the galaxy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: W. H. Cann
• Release date: Dec 21, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310563553

W. H. Cann

I am an indie author of science fiction and fantasy novels. I live in Pembrokeshire, Wales, am married with two children, and three grandchildren.I have served with the Royal Air Force as a dual trade aircraft engineer after completing a 3 year apprenticeship, run my own business for several years until a back injury prevented me from continuing, and then entered the world of finance. I am currently employed as a Local Government Finance Officer.I have been a passionate reader since early childhood, but was introduced to the fantasy genre at the age of 10 when my father gave me some Conan books and the Thongor of Lemuria series by Lin Carter. I did not actually start writing until my mid thirties, after injuring my back and was off work for a while. It was then that I first penned the drafts of the Science Fiction series The Guardians, followed by the fantasy series The Chronicles of Ferantiana.My favourite activities other than writing are walking, reading, researching family history, watching classic British Sitcoms, good dramas and films, and listening to music.W. H. Cann

Book preview

The Guardians

Book Four

Storm Conjurer

W. H. Cann

W.H. Cann asserts the moral right to

be identified as the author of this work

Copyright 2002 W. H. Cann

Published by W. H. Cann

This Edition Dec 2014

Cover Illustration W. H. Cann

Copyright 2014 W. H. Cann

All Rights Reserved

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, or organisations are entirely coincidental.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Contents

Title

Copyright

Contents

Chapter 01

Chapter 02

Chapter 03

Chapter 04

Chapter 05

Chapter 06

Chapter 07

Chapter 08

Chapter 09

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Other Books

Chapter One

Pagiera, Pageron System, Nakari Sector, Yeassan Quadrant

Gigassor, a young soldier, waited patiently in the reception area outside the offices of the Supreme Lord of Pagiera and his senior military commanders. He was a highly-disciplined individual, experiencing no anxiety at the prospect of standing before the Ruler of Pagiera. For him, it was an honour regardless of the reasons behind his summons.

It had been five long years since Gigassor first entered the Military Academy. Every Pageron entering service was required to complete the four-year training course, but this was insufficient for Gigassor who was determined to follow in his father’s footsteps. After graduating with distinction, he elected to enrol in the special services programme, which was even more gruelling, unforgiving, and merciless.

Only those who possessed a high degree of self-discipline and were able to develop a high tolerance to pain, to which the soldiers were subjected to on a regular basis, would be able to survive the harsh discipline. They were trained to endure it, to press on until they either collapsed from exhaustion or death, or reached their target, to show they were willing to die for what they believed in. Few made it to graduation, but those who did would join the elite, the Pageron Commandos; Gigassor was one of those individuals.

There were times when Gigassor thought he would not make it to the end, his leathery hide bearing the scars of his endeavours. The thick dense fur of his body now covered all but the two scars on his chest, one’s he wore with pride. He had not only graduated with the highest scores, but his first mission had been a complete success. The young warrior had earned the right to wear the badge of the elite division, the sceptre and two crossing scimitars, one sewn on each arm of his tunic, and a cap badge made of pure gold. He was a Special Forces Commando, and had been given the rank of Lieutenant.

He knew his father would have been proud of him, and the mere thought of him brought a smile to the young Pageron’s face. His father was a great warrior and had attained the rank of General. He had been decorated many times for bravery and achievement during his long and distinguished career, and was held in high esteem by both the citizens and government of his world. Despite his prowess and ability to survive, Tiretto was missing believed dead. One of Gigassor’s hopes was to discover the truth about his disappearance, which had occurred on an undercover mission to Olarask.

The buzzer sounded on the aide’s desk. You may enter the Supreme Lord’s office now, he said.

Gigassor stood tall and walked with pride into the office where the Supreme Lord conducted his formal meetings. The warrior stopped approximately two metres from the wide ornamental desk and bowed smartly. Lieutenant Gigassor Finn, your honoured servant at your service, Supreme Lord.

Hentag Royess was fair and considerate in the manner in which he dealt with all of his subjects, and yet he could deal swift and deadly justice if the situation dictated such action. His ability to remain calm and in full control of his emotions and temper in all circumstances made him a deadly, but highly respected leader. There were, however, two things the Supreme Lord detested more than anything else: Incompetence and impatience.

When Lieutenant Finn entered and spoke, Hentag Royess did not look up, nor did he acknowledge him. Instead, he continued reading the reports on his desk, which were interesting and enlightening. The only movement was from his eyes or his hand as he turned a page. He often kept his subjects waiting in this manner to test their discipline and control, believing their conduct in such a situation revealed much about their character, tolerance, and resolve.

He could see the young warrior in the upper edge of his field of vision, and the only movement he detected was that of his chest as he breathed. After making him wait ten minutes, he pushed the report forward and looked up at the young soldier standing before him, his expression neutral. So, you are Gigassor Finn, son of High General Tiretto Finn.

I am my Lord.

Do you have any idea why you stand here before me?

None my Lord, but it is a great honour none-the-less.

The young warrior’s comment drew a smile from Hentag. Your report is very thorough. Yes, you are much like your father, and your patience does you credit.

Thank you, my Lord. I do only what is required of me, he answered, feeling proud of his achievements. To stand before the Supreme Lord was in itself, an honour indeed, but to be praised by him was beyond the expectation of most.

Relaxing back in his chair, Hentag rested his elbows on the arm rests, clasped his hands together and pressed his extended first fingers against his chin. Your report suggests the Olarans are divided in regard to what action they should take next.

That is correct my Lord. There is a growing number who believe the feud has run its course and doesn’t justify further military action and loss of life. Unfortunately for them, the ruling council and many in high command still believe there is full justification to continue fighting, and will not meet them in objective talks. If we act now, we will be able to cripple their defences and bring them to their knees. When the Supreme Lord failed to respond, Gigassor believed he may have said too much.

He knew Hentag watched him carefully, obviously pondering his report and testing his patience further. He would not give him the satisfaction of seeing him break, so he remained motionless, and would have stopped breathing had it been possible. He kept his gaze directed at the large painting hanging on the wall behind the Supreme Lord.

It was a beautiful depiction of a fight between General Hadeenan and a Kelonan, a wolf-like creature that roamed the wastelands of Domarin far to the north. The Kelonan could grow up to eight foot in length, and was, according to legend, more ferocious than the Pagraxan wolf of Krelath. It was also said that General Hadeenan was the only one to survive an encounter with the beast.

Well, it appears you will become a valuable asset to our intelligence force. This report is very concise and will be of great use in our plans. Now tell me, have you learnt anything about your father?

Nothing my Lord; we were unable to discover if those captured were executed or not, and the risk in attempting to penetrate the prison complex was too great and would have jeopardised the mission.

That is most unfortunate on both accounts, but you made the right decision Lieutenant Finn. It’s a shame about Tiretto, his talents are sorely missed.

Gigassor was surprised by the Supreme Lord’s comment, and realised there was a compassionate and friendly side to him, more so than many gave him credit for. It also made him more aware of just how important and valued his father was, which in turn made him more determined to discover his fate.

You are to report to Colonel Verdina for your next assignment. That will be all for now Lieutenant, and good luck.

Gigassor knew he was being dismissed. Yes, my Lord. He saluted, turned on his heels and marched out of the office with pride. He was one step closer to being included in the advance force that would pave the way for the conquest of Olarask. It would also provide him with the opportunity to mete out retribution for his father’s death. He knew what the Olarans did to those unfortunate enough to be captured, and that none ever escaped nor were any given their freedom.

As the door closed behind Gigassor, Hentag pressed the button underneath his desk. Moments later, General Mirgest entered by way of the door linking their two offices, sat in the arm chair and crossed his legs.

Well my Lord, did he live up to expectation?

He did indeed. There have been few who could stand proud and remain as patient as Tiretto’s son has just done. He showed no fear, worry or concern while standing before me.

I am surprised. I would have thought even the son of Tiretto Finn would have shown some anxiety.

He is very much his father’s son, and if I am right, will surpass his father in many ways. Lieutenant Finn will suit our purpose perfectly, and I believe he will not fail.

Mirgest was not so easily convinced. Forgive me for my boldness . . .

Starren, when we are alone, I expect you to speak freely.

The General nodded. Is it wise placing Finn in command of such an important mission? He hasn’t gained sufficient field experience, and with so much depending on its success, can we trust his ability and judgement.

Every soldier needs to prove himself sooner or later; how else are they to learn. The reports filed on young Finn suggest he is ready and capable. His understanding of what is required in leadership and his ability to assess a situation has been remarkable. I have my doubts, but my confidence in the judgement of my officers assures me he will perform to requirements.

Then I must trust yours. We now await only your command to commence the operation. We have been waiting for this day for a long time, and it will be one long remembered.

The Supreme Lord turned his gaze toward the General. You are confident of our chances Mirgest. Have you no doubts at all?

No. We have been training hard, and every soldier is prepared both physically and mentally for the task ahead. Although our forces took a heavy beating during the last battle, we inflicted heavy losses on our enemy.

The General was indeed confident. With recently trained soldiers and fighter pilots swelling the ranks, together with new modified equipment, he looked forward to taking the battle to the Olarans in their own system. He wanted to give them a lesson they would never forget, one he hoped would break their resolve and make them realise they would never defeat the Pagerons.

The Supreme Lord looked at the General and nodded. You may give the order to proceed with the attack, but you had better not fail me Mirgest, he said pointing his finger at him. This is our last chance to end the destructive feud between our two peoples and regain our strength. We must not forget how vulnerable we are to the Vadashine.

I will not fail you, my Lord, nor will our forces. I know some murmur against you, question your ability to rule, but they will be silenced.

Then go and silence them, my friend.

Hentag was tired of the fighting, the planning, the scheming and finding new ways to protect his people. He was getting old, especially for one in the position of Supreme Lord, and the constant demands were finally taking its toll on his health. Before this last conflict erupted, he was scrutinising all of the proposed candidates hoping to find a worthy successor, something that was proving to be as difficult as defeating the Olarans.

New blood was needed to rule the Pagerons, but one had to be experienced and gained a reputable reputation in command before even being considered suitable. No civilian had ruled Pagiera for over one hundred years, and it was highly improbable one would ever again. The one instance when a non-military commander ruled lasted a mere four years.

The feud between the Olarans and Pagerons had been raging for just over a century when an unexpected peace, which lasted two decades, ensued between the two races. Some dared hope the feud had run its course and everlasting peace was attainable. Fuelling this false hope was Senator Beldan, who having gained support of a select group of misguided senators, wanted to usher in a new era. They succeeded in persuading the people it was time to change, to replace the military governorship with senatorial rule, and a duly elected governor. Senator Beldan, who succeeded in becoming the first elected Governor of Pagiera, was despised by the military for his outspoken and questionable principles, and was by nature, one who craved power and position.

Several of the neighbouring systems viewed this change as a sign of weakness in the Pagerons, but it was the Olarans who took advantage of it. Four years into the Governor’s term of office, they launched their attack. Without the decisive military experience, the Governor proved hopeless in directing the defensive action against the assault. With the situation deteriorating rapidly, the highest ranking Marshall of the military forces seized control and assumed the position of Supreme Lord. From that moment, the original constitution of Pageron rule was reintroduced, never to be put aside again.

The people had learnt their lesson, but at a high price.

Two hundred years later, Supreme Lord Hentag Royess was hoping one final strike with his entire force would bring an end to the feud once and for all.

The history of the conflict was well documented. Both sides had committed heinous atrocities against the other, which had spurred more reprisals deepening the bitterness each race harboured toward the other. Most had forgotten why the feud started so many centuries ago, but some knew, Hentag being one of them, although it was of little consequence now.

There were two planets in the Tantinea system, only one of which was inhabitable. About three and a half centuries ago, the Pagerons conducted numerous surveys on the planet, which was similar to Pagiera geographically and climatically, and having found no evidence of habitation, colonised it.

Several decades later, the Olarans decided to lay claim to the planet. Their attempt to prove colonisation long before the Pagerons was refuted based on lack of evidence. The minor dispute that arose degenerated into a major feud, leading to full scale war between the two races, the result of which being the destruction of Tantinea’s eco system by the Olarans.

Animal life on Pagiera was reasonably abundant but not very diverse, the most common species being primates. The Pagerons evolved from the largest and most intelligent species, but retained a covering of short thick hair over their tough leathery skin. The average height of a male Pageron was two metres, and the female about one and a half.

All young Pagerons were taught self-defence; males from the moment they were able to walk, and females after having passed through their first physical change to adulthood, which occurred at eight years of age. The initial training was purely unarmed hand-to-hand combat. Armed combat began at eight years of age for males and ten for females. On reaching fifteen, all males entered the Defence Academy and endured three years training. At the end of those three years, recruits were allowed to return to civilian life to seek general employment, or choose to join the Military Academy. Those who returned to civilian life were required to undertake a compulsory annual training programme, and could be called into military service if and when the situation required.

Military Academy recruits endured an intense four-year training programme. After two years, all trainees were transferred to their chosen field of operations where they would specialise in ground assault, naval operations, mechanical engineering or general administration. During this time, those who demonstrated exceptional talents or abilities were offered the chance of joining specialist training courses, many of whom would become commissioned officers.

Gigassor, who had surpassed everything his commanders expected of him, was now in command of an elite team of commandos. Despite his inexperience in field operations, his achievement in the one single mission was sufficient to earn the respect and support of those he now commanded. That support and trust was essential in the task they now faced. If he led his troops to success, they would be honoured and decorated, but if they failed . . .

Chapter Two

Olarask, Olara System, Nakari Sector, Yeassan Quadrant

General Yostigg slumped into his chair, disappointed, frustrated and angry. Four of the six prisoners had died before he had been able to extract any useful information. The remaining two were, however, proving to be as stubborn and resilient to torture as the others.

After seven long days of intense interrogation, he was feeling tired, although it was through mental fatigue rather than physical. He had never encountered prisoners who were able to withstand his unique methods for such a long time without breaking. Despite this lack of success, it had been a rewarding indulgence.

The General did experience a small degree of pleasure from this activity, but he never allowed it grow to the point where it threatened to undermine the reasons for inflicting it. To extract information by this method was an acquired skill, one he had developed into an art form, and his reputation for success was well known and admired. Most prisoners talked or died in the first two days, usually because they were physically and mentally weak. It was rare for any to last more than three days without talking, but until this moment in time, none had lasted more than five. However, the new breed of Pageron soldier appeared to be more resilient to his methods, which was giving Yostigg cause for concern.

He filled a large glass with Olaro whisky, leant back in his chair and sipped his drink while pondering his lack of success. After a few minutes, he refilled his glass, put his feet up on the desk and sighed heavily. He ruled out ineffective interrogation, finally attributing it to the Pagerons’ determination to remain silent, even to the point of death, being stronger than his intent to break them.

While contemplating how best to tackle the remaining two prisoners, Sintalag entered his office. The General dropped his feet to the ground, placed his glass on the desk and stood slowly before saluting his superior officer.

Formality was an important and integral element of Olaran culture, which was steeped in tradition, fear and superstition. It was the latter two traits that had been one of the primary factors leading to the feud between the Olarans and Pagerons. Twelve hundred years ago, Tantinea had been home to a thriving colony of Olarans. However, six hundred years later, all but a handful of individuals survived an epidemic, which wiped out the entire colony in fifteen days.

The few survivors managed to travel back to Olarask and explained what happened. They spoke of evil spirits haunting the mind, of ghosts tormenting them at night, the look of terror etched into the features of those infected, of the incoherent screams echoing through the night, and how everyone collapsed where they stood, never to rise. The priests declared the planet a haven of evil, a place where all were forbidden to travel. They cursed the planet and any who dared go there. Several scientists, who ignored the priests’ declarations, dared visit the planet hoping to discover whether it was a virus or other biological organism that caused the epidemic. None of them returned.

Tantinea became a shrine, a memorial was erected in Olarka, Olarask’s principle city, and details of those who died and what happened was written in the annals of Olaran history. Apart from the few scientists, not a single Olaran had dared visit Tantinea in over three centuries. However, when the Pagerons colonised it, the Olarans overcame their fear and superstition of past events, travelled to the planet to meet with the leaders of the colony and ordered them to leave.

The Pagerons refused, and so began the feud.

Yostigg was one of those individuals who was able to trace his family lineage back to the time of the Tantinean colony, and discovered a branch of his family had been amongst the original settlers. He was also one of the few who did not fear the Supreme Commodore of the Olaran army, but still respected him and held him in high regard.

Most, however, did fear him, many of whom were unable to hide it, and some even cowered before him. Sintalag was a brutal Olaran who never showed any sign of weakness. He was intolerant of failure and incompetence, for which he administered severe punishment. Even Yostigg bore the scars of Sintalag’s anger. He made one small error resulting in the loss of a single starfighter and its pilot. On learning of the loss, the Supreme Commodore struck him with tremendous force, his sharpened claws raking across his face leaving deep scars. It had taken six days for the swelling to ease, and two more weeks for them to heal. Despite this, Yostigg was surprisingly proud of them.

I trust you have some news about the Pagerons for me General.

Not yet my Lord; they are proving to be extremely strong and stubborn. So far, four have resisted all methods of persuasion, which resulted in their untimely deaths. I am giving the remaining two prisoners some time to reflect on their situation, hoping the deaths of their comrades will prove how futile their resistance is. I intend to continue interrogating tomorrow.

When the Supreme Commodore remained silent with his eyes fixed firmly on him, the General wondered if he would strike him for this apparent failure, or would he see it as inconsequential. He sighed when his commanding officer sat in the armchair to his left.

That is most unfortunate. Do you think the remaining captives will break?

It is difficult to say. The Pagerons appear to be more resilient than usual, more determined to resist, which suggests they are being trained to withstand interrogation.

There is no point calling on Laxoran Dinnet then.

There was only one thing, other than angering Sintalag that gave the General cause for concern: The mention of Laxoran Dinnet. He had met the Commodore on several occasions, knew of his unethical ways of extracting information, and the manner in which he treated subordinates.

No my Lord, there is not. He would be unable to extract any more information than I have.

The Supreme Commodore frowned before shaking his head. So be it General. He does have other more pressing matters to attend to at this time. Now, the prisoners, they must know something important or they would not be so determined to resist divulging it.

I’m sure of it my Lord. Their resilience is quite unsettling, but I will prise it out of them.

Yes, I’m sure you will. Their success in previous encounters concerns me. I need to know what they are planning.

Their success was only minor. We inflicted severe damage to several cruisers, thus limiting their capability. That alone will delay any assault they may be planning, giving us time to prepare for a counter attack.

Maybe so, but the High Council is concerned about our defence capabilities. The Senators have read the reports from our agents, which suggest the Pagerons are preparing for a major assault, one we will be hard pressed to resist. They are planning to seek a truce between our two peoples.

What? We cannot back down now, my Lord. To do so would be unthinkable, destroy all we have fought for, and weaken our position in the sector.

And yet it appears that is what the High Council is prepared to do.

Our fleet of cruisers is still capable of inflicting a severe blow to the Pagerons. If we attack now, he said clenching his fists, we could catch them off guard and hit them hard before they are ready to attack us.

Sintalag sighed. If it were my decision, General, I would not hesitate. I would prefer to die fighting than lay down our arms, but . . . the council have made their decision and no-one can change that.

Yostigg was speechless. He shook his head in exasperation and studied Sintalag’s expression. He did not like what he saw. Well, that’s it then; it’s all over. What a waste. Our honour is diminished. He spoke his mind, caring little for what the Supreme Commodore thought. Damn senators, why can’t they keep politics out of war?

Sintalag laughed and shook his head. Well spoken Yostigg. This war is one of principle, one of honour. Even if it has been raging for over two hundred years, the Pagerons need to be taught a lesson. They cannot take what is not theirs. Tantinea belongs to the Olarans, always has, always will.

Then we should defy the High Council.

Defy the illustrious High Council? Sintalag paused to spit on the ground, showing his disgust at the council. As I said, the senators have decided it’s time to ensue for peace between our two races. They want to surrender to the Pagerons to avoid more bloodshed, and then negotiate a treaty with the intent of forging a lasting peace between our races: A peace where we’ll be able to trade and even consider fighting together against mutual enemies.

Yostigg took a sharp intake of breath and his eyes widened. After more than two hundred years of feuding they’re going to end it just like that? Never in five millennia of history have our people just surrendered, nor have we ever been beaten to the point of surrender.

No, we have not, but our High Council has agreed the future of our people is more important than pride and honour. They fear we will become slaves and lose our freedom if we continue to fight, or even be slaughtered without mercy.

Despite the atrocities committed by both us and our enemy, the Pagerons are honourable and would never commit genocide.

The Council believe we can ill afford to take the risk. Now General, I think it’s time we continued with the interrogation of the last two prisoners.

Yostigg smiled and nodded. He swallowed the last of his drink in one gulp before leading the Supreme Commodore to the cell-block. Taking hold of the prisoner they believed to be the weakest, they dragged him into the cold, dark chamber, strapped him onto the holding frame and commenced the interrogation. Five hours later, the two officers retired to the rest room, sat down and poured themselves a large whisky.

As you have seen, my Lord, these latest prisoners are proving to be exceptionally resilient.

Indeed they are. I was sceptical when you first told me, but now having witnessed it first-hand, I can only applaud their strength. It almost makes me feel guilty for not allowing them an honourable death.

They have deprived themselves of that honour, my Lord. Had they willingly divulged all they knew, I would have offered them that opportunity.

That’s the whole point, though. They obviously regarded it dishonourable to betray their people by speaking, preferring death over dishonour.

I guess I would do the same. Yostigg drank a mouthful of whisky and sighed. As it is getting late, I suggest we leave the other prisoner until tomorrow. Perhaps a longer wait will break his resolve and loosen his tongue.

It might. Then again, it might not.

The Supreme Commodore arrived in the General’s office at eight o’clock Olaran time the following morning. General Yostigg, I am expecting good results today.

As am I, my Lord. I have a good feeling about this last prisoner. The guards inform me he has had a restless night, and so he should succumb easily.

Four hours later, the Pageron was still alive, albeit barely. The drugs administered and the torture inflicted was finally taking its toll. His mental and physical strength was at the point of collapse. Images flooded his mind: The horrors of war, the slaughter of innocents, and strange evil creatures that appeared to be from the darkest pit of evil, rose up to haunt him as he continued hallucinating. Terror overwhelmed him, and his final vestiges of control slipped away. With his last few breaths, the prisoner was unable to resist any longer.

The information he revealed is of little value. We have no clearer indication of the Pagerons’ intent, said Sintalag.

It would appear they have not only been trained to resist interrogation and torture, but have only been briefed on what was required to complete their mission.

That is a possibility.

Guard, you know what to do with the body, said Yostigg as he and the Supreme Commodore walked passed him.

Yes, General, he replied and acknowledged the Supreme Lord with a bow.

The two officers returned to Yostigg’s office to discuss what they had learnt, whether or not there was any value in it, and the implications for the Olarans. It did not bode well.

The fact that the prisoners revealed so little indicates they are planning a major offensive. Our problem is when and how much time we have to prepare.

I agree, General. However, it will be difficult to persuade the High Council to listen and change their stance, unless we have undisputable proof of the Pageron’s intent.

Yostigg frowned. Is there no other way?

Sintalag finished his glass of whisky and shook his head. No. He then got up and walked out of the General’s office.

Despite what the Supreme Commodore said, Yostigg knew he would not allow the High Council to destroy everything they had fought for. If there was a way, he would find it, but he also knew time was running out. Sintalag was known for doing things his own way, oftentimes at the disapproval of the High Council, but they never possessed the courage to reprimand or threaten him. Yostigg was now counting on him to prevent the inevitable.

The General was just finishing his drink when the last person he expected to see grace his office with his presence appeared at the door. He bolted upright and saluted smartly. Commodore Dinnet, I was not expecting to see you here.

Relax General, said the Commodore, smiling. He enjoyed causing discomfort to subordinates by appearing unexpectedly, but more so with important high ranking officers.

Yostigg relaxed and his shoulders dropped. What can I do for you Commodore?

I considered taking a look at the last few prisoners, wondering if you had succeeded in breaking them. However, Supreme Commodore Sintalag informs me you were successful. It’s a shame none of them lived through it, although I was not expecting them to be that fortunate. I am most pleased for you General. You seem to have retained your expertise even after all these years. I commend you for it. He then nodded, turned about and disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.

Yostigg was lost for words. He was unable to recall the Commodore ever having praised him. He sat down, poured himself another drink, which he swallowed in one gulp and poured another. Having an unexpected encounter with Commodore Dinnet was enough for any sane Olaran to contend with, but for him to stop and chat so casually and congratulate him openly was unnerving to say the least.

The