“I know I need to disconnect from that madness…this field trip has made that abundantly clear. But situations like this reinforce how I can’t do that without consequences to other people.”
“And that is one trap the darkside uses to wear us down, making us believe we are abandoning the light or burning ourselves out and leaving us vulnerable to our enemies. We must defy that trap.”
“I’ll work on it,” Paul promised as he remotely signaled for their cloaked ship to rendezvous with them at a park not far from here. Another half hour and they’d have their ward out of harm’s way and they’d drop him off at the embassy…after that, Paul didn’t know if he’d stick around to deal with things here or let the annexation fleet handle it.
Actually, this was one he was going to handle personally. Not because he thought others couldn’t handle it, because he felt he needed to. Millennia onboard a warship had kept him away from situations like this, and he was in no hurry to get back to that isolation…or to Earth. Cal-com was right. Warriors responded to the call when and where there was need.
And right now, that need was here, not on Earth.
5
February 28, 154930
Ha’ven Nu’meori System (Home Two Kingdom)
Ha’shavi
Four months had passed since Paul and Cal-com had gotten their rescuee to safety, and since then four Star Force warships had arrived escorting 34 cargo ships and 4 troop ships, all of which came from the Human Mainline fleet. They’d arrived 15 days ago, and since then they’d been assaulting the planet and quietly capturing the strategic strongpoints with little resistance…mainly because what the native Tri’meori considered ‘strategic’ was more symbolic than anything, such as the Governor’s palace, which held no real value as far as infrastructure went.
The power stations, comm centers, waterworks, spaceports, etc all held value, and Star Force was taking them under possession without having to kill a single person. The invading troops were equipped with stun weapons, shield walls, telepathic lures, and a lot of other things the natives had no idea even existed, and even those that fought back with lethal weapons were taken down quickly without any real threat to them.
So now, after getting the real strategic strongpoints under their possession, Paul entered the Governor’s palace along with a phalanx of armored commandos and went straight to the governor’s office, with all the security forces they could muster not even able to slow his steady walk, for they were taken down enroute as his commandos tagged and bagged the unconscious guards while he continued on to the double doored entrance that was barricaded on the other side.
Paul kicked at it with his shoe, for he wasn’t wearing his armor deployed, and added some Jumat energy to it, busting the doors open and throwing the furniture that had been on the far side across the spacious office and knocking down two of the 28 guards inside that had weapons trained on the doors.
They all opened fire on Paul as soon as they saw him standing in the doorway, but he simply raised a hand and produced a bioshield in front of him, taking all the shots on it as he passively stood still looking at them in his Archon uniform with an addition of a simple white cape added on top of it that had no hood, just some gold embroidery around the high collared neck.
He held his shield as they continued to fire, giving them a chance to take the hint, but when they didn’t he walked forward taking the hits on the clear blue barrier and not even needing his technological shields in his armored gauntlets, then he telekinetically crunched each of their weapons, one by one, until they were holding nothing but inoperative junk. Then he calmly lowered his hand and dropped his shield, staring at the governor hiding behind his desk as the commandos followed him into the room with their weapons now trained on the towering guards that were totally helpless against the Archon’s powers.
“You are not going to be harmed,” Paul said in their native language, having learned enough of it in the past months to not need a translation program. Plus he could see inside their minds as to what they meant to say if he needed any extra help, “but your days running this planet are over.”
The Governor slowly stood up, looking down at Paul from nearly twice the Human’s height and massing more than 4 times his weight, but it was clear the smaller individuals were in the dominant position here.
“What right do you have to do this?” the Tri’meori demanded. “We have followed your rules!”
“We gave you a chance to lead your own people, and what have you done with that chance?” Paul said firmly. “You’ve wasted it. We offered help, resources, guidance…you took none of it. Your people suffer and you do not care. But I care. And we’re going to do better by them than you have ever dreamed of.”
“You have no right! We are a sovereign system!”
“Not anymore. Your sovereignty is hereby revoked. This system is now Star Force property, and we’re already starting to clean up your mess, though it will take decades to do it properly.”
The Governor pounded his fists onto his desk. “You can’t do this! We didn’t break your rules!”
“Good men don’t need rules,” Paul said flatly. “And we won’t stand by when people are suffering because of them. But while we’re on the subject. When we said no executions, that didn’t just mean officially. Having people assassinated with plausible deniability isn’t something we tolerate.”
“It’s been done this way for centuries,” the Governor protested. “You never said anything about it before!”
“It’s a big galaxy, and we don’t see everything. The fact that you
