He was a guardian of the galaxy, for better or worse, and he didn’t regret that. It hurt, but he wouldn’t have anyone else here in his place. He could take it. He could take it for the galaxy, for the other Oso’lon he was shielding behind the Border.
And for the Oso’lon that died here. If he crumpled after the loss, he would be betraying them. He would not allow the Hadarak that secondary victory.
“We took the hit,” he said on planetary-wide comm, “and we still own the planet. Battle is not over, and we are not defeated. We are wounded,” he said, choking up a bit. “Address the wounds, save what can be saved, and work the situation for the best secondary outcome we can manage. This is not the aftermath. This is round two, and we must take advantage of what time and resources we have. We do not surrender. We do not fold. We do not cower. We are V’kit’no’sat, and we take the hits so the rest of the galaxy can remain safe enough to build an invasion force that will wipe this scourge from the face of the galaxy once and for all! We have done our duty, and we will continue to do it. If Oso’lon cannot hold ourselves together, we cannot expect others to. We are superior in fact, not appearance. Let the galaxy judge us by the merits of how we respond to this loss, not on the fact that it occurred. No one failed their duty, we were overwhelmed. There is no shame in that, but there is pain. And we will carry this pain into the next battle and the next, but we will not become weary. We will become victorious, and today is the cost of our eventual victory, for the enemy gives us no other options than to pay it or to buckle and let the entire galaxy fall.”
“The galaxy shall not fall. Not under our protection. We will rise, and it will rise with us. When we get knocked down, we get up again. Today your orders are to get up again. The rest will take care of itself afterward,” C’fad said, ending the comm and getting a slew of telepathic responses from the Oso’lon around him…all of which were positive and reinforcing. They had needed that, and so did he, but the damage could not be denied, and was still ongoing as the planet tried to come to grips with the new physics of its internal alignment.
And almost as an afterthought, the Oso’lon noted that the planet’s orbit had slightly shifted outward, with the system navigational maps updating in response…
2
October 18, 154929
Ha’ven Nu’meori System (Home Two Kingdom)
Ha’shavi
“And what about when you find victims you didn’t even know existed?” Paul asked Cal-com as they walked on the non-Star Force world of Ha’shavi, one of four in this system that belonged to the independent Tri’meori race.
“Proper foresight can eliminate many of them, though not all,” the Voku said as the pair walked in heavy robes to hide their alien physique from most casual onlookers. Ha’shavi wasn’t isolated to the point that there weren’t other races here visiting for commerce and the like, but Star Force was not popular amongst the population, so both men were trying to keep a low profile and did most of their navigating by Pefbar rather than eyesight as their hoods were draped so low they could see little more than the meter of ground in front of them.
“And you just ignore the remainder?”
Cal-com’s head turned slightly as they walked side by side down a relatively busy street that was for foot traffic only, but not so crowded that they had to walk single file.
“Do you truly believe we were that barbaric?”
“You did serve the Zak’de’ron, and when it suits them they are quite barbaric,” Paul countered.
“And we cannot control the universe, let alone our own fate in some circumstances. I fear you have put too much on your shoulders, and that impossible weight is clouding your judgement.”
“I don’t like giving up on anyone, no matter how small.”
“It’s not a matter of giving up,” Cal-com explained calmly. “It’s acknowledging that you cannot save them. You and I both have ascended to the point that we will never stop trying to save those in need, so those words are not going to be misdirection amongst us. To others they would be, for you know there are situations where it feels you have to will a path into existence where none appears to be possible.”
“I have been attempting that far too often I think…the trouble is I often succeed and cannot bear the thought of not always trying.”
“And there again you feel the fate of others is your responsibility. When you take on a ward, and you fail that ward, it affects you. That is why you must not mentally assume such responsibility even if your actions do not differ. You can seek to help people without being responsible for them.”
“I am sick of it, Cal-com,” Paul finally admitted. “I am truly sick of it.”
“Which part do you speak of?”
“Not being able to permanently save people. Every victory can be washed away, and I know that’s not true for many reasons, but in some ways it is true and I cannot shake that I am not doing something right. If people are going to die eventually, why work so hard to keep them alive another week, or year, or century? I do it out of spite, mostly, and will continue to do so because it needs to be done, but I can’t feel a purpose anymore.”
“A purpose or a path?”
“A long term
