Paragon Prince -- Ossanlin's Story

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Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin):
Well thanks, Scott...glad you like it. Of course it was, once again, your outpouring of quality fiction that spurred me to continue with this effort, so you deserve some of the credit. :)

Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin):
[spoiler=Chapter 4: Doubts and Departures]The next day, Ossanlin woke up earlier than usual, donning his formal silver dress belt and formal white neck-collar. It would be a few hours before the graduation ceremony, but Ossanlin wanted time to think.

Dressed in his formals, he trotted out of the barracks and galloped to the observation spire, riding the lift up. The sun hadn’t crested the horizon yet when he reached the Reflection Room at the top. He stepped right up to the windows, ignoring the room’s height as he watched the colors shift on the eastern horizon.

One of the nice things about the Reflection Room was its relative seclusion. Despite being near the heart of the Academy, few Andalites had any desire to brave the Reflection Room’s heights. As such, it was usually fairly private, especially at this time of day. In the relative silence, the soft trickle of the fountain behind him seemed ridiculously loud to his ears.

The room sparked thoughts and memories of multiple conversations with Prince Raigar. Indeed, Ossanlin often became “reflective” in this room. The irony seemed somewhat absurd. Silver vehicles flashed through his vision, flitting over the airspace of Cendorus. Everyone was trying to beat the lockdown. Cyrenk was launching several large parts today, and airspace over the settlement would be heavily restricted. Ossanlin had glimpsed some of the parts scheduled for launch. They didn’t seem correct for a normal Mark II Dome Ship, nor were they parts for Interceptor or Destroyer-class ships. There was all sorts of conjecture about what sort of ship the parts were meant for. Everything from a new class of starship to a new Mark of Dome Ship of all things. Whatever the parts were for, the Electorate was keeping the information close.

<Like minds, eh?> Ossanlin wasn’t particularly startled when he heard a deep thought-speech voice resonate behind him. He’d heard the lift in that absolute quiet, though he’d deliberately kept his stalk eyes scanning the view before him.

<Prince, I suppose it’s only appropriate that you should come here.> Ossanlin kept his eyes toward the brightly-hued horizon. <It’s hardly a moment I’ve spent in this room without your company.>

<Ossanlin…you’ve grown. Matured. I can sense deep thoughts in you now. Would you care to share them?> Raigar walked up next to Ossanlin, directing all four of his eyes at the soon-to-be-rising sun as well.



<Ossanlin, you can share anything with me, I hope you know that. It is why I am here. You need not fear reprimand or reproval from me.> Raigar smiled a bit, Ossanlin could see the angle of his eyes with his own peripheral vision.

Suddenly, the first beams of sunlight lanced over the horizon, streaming across the silvery, crystalline structures of Cendorus. The light hit the Reflection Room first, being the highest point in the settlement. It was bright…almost blinding, but Ossanlin didn’t wince or squint. He stared at the first sun as if it would provide him with answers.

<Prince, I cannot give my life for Yeerks. I have thought it over time and again. I know they are not inherently evil, I know it, but the Empire is composed entirely of Yeerks. They have killed so many of ours…I do not think I can find it in my hearts to forgive even one of them.> Ossanlin finally looked away from the blinding light of the sunrise, deflecting his gaze downward at the floor. Raigar never got angry or upset, but Ossanlin found that the Prince’s disappointment was far more painful than any reprimand he’d ever received.

<Ah, that. Ossanlin, there is a certain amount of give and take in anything. Your thoughts are already far more progressive than those of your brethren. Of course there will be anger, I did not say you should suppress it. The Empire has taken thousands of lives, and destroyed the freedom of hundreds of thousands more. You have always been a passionate Andalite, Ossanlin. Headstrong and willful, but also compassionate. Anger is an expression of passion.>

<As long as you can control it, keep it from affecting your decisions and behavior, then I believe that emotion is good. It helps you to keep perspective. I did not say that you should not feel, Ossanlin…I said that you needed to keep your feelings from controlling you.> Raigar continued to smile, looking over at Ossanlin. <I can feel it somewhere, Ossanlin, deep inside…there will come a time when a Yeerk shows you compassion. And I know that once that happens, you’ll see that there are Yeerks whom are worth dying for as well.>

Ossanlin looked up and met Raigar’s gaze, the warmth of the first sun bathing him. The whole thing felt surreal, and Ossanlin found himself doubting reality a moment…but only a moment. He looked away again. A Yeerk show compassion? About as likely as a kafit growing as large as a moon and stomping Cendorus flat, but Ossanlin trusted Raigar in most everything. <Alright, Prince…if a Yeerk shows me compassion, he will be my friend for life.>

Raigar smiled and chuckled, muttering He paused, glancing downward before looking back up to meet Ossanlin’s gaze once again. <<Ossanlin…I have something I’ve wanted to speak with you about for awhile. I don’t know if you’re ready to hear this, but you need to…we’re out of time. Ossanlin, there is a group within the Andalite government known as Sector Seven.>>

Ossanlin furrowed his brow questioningly, noting Raigar’s shift to private thought-speech. <<The intelligence-gathering and analysis branch?>>

Raigar chuckled ruefully. <<That is what they’d have you and everyone else believe. Ossanlin, Sector Seven is much more than a simple intelligence entity. Sector Seven has ties to every facet of Andalite government. There are members of Sector Seven in the Electorate, in the Executive Military, on Dome Ships, in outposts, in Cyrenk, in Marin Lab, in the Academy…everywhere. Ossanlin, they can influence events however they see fit.>>

Ossanlin furrowed his brow further. <<What are you telling me, Prince?>>

<<Ossanlin, Sector Seven is the real power behind the Andalite people. The anti-Yeerk propaganda campaign was their idea. They exist above the government, Ossanlin…they do things that no one should do, all for their own vaunted ideals of what is “good and right” for the People. They have technologies unknown to the rest of the Andalite populous, they have weapons more-advanced than the Moonstrike Brigade…there’s no check on their power, Ossanlin. They control the People, and with them, they control the government, the military…everything.>>

Ossanlin turned his gaze back out the windows to look over Cendorus. He was actually quite proud of himself for not displaying even a hint of the aghast surprise or growing dread that filled him. Government had checks and balances for a reason…if this shadow agency actually influenced all the goings-on of the Electorate and Andalite life… <<Prince, I’ve not heard any of this from anyone before. It couldn’t possibly be common knowledge. If what you say is true, how could you possibly know all of this?>>

Raigar was silent for a long time before nodding to himself. <<Because, Ossanlin…I am a member of Sector Seven.>>

Ossanlin felt as if he’d been knocked on the head by a flat-side tailblade. He kept his composure, but just barely, allowing the information to sink in.

<<Before you say anything, Ossanlin…there are those of us within Sector Seven who are members in name only. We work from the inside to try and influence Sector Seven beneficially…we keep the façade of loyal members, but secretly work to counter the more nefarious goals of Sector Seven. I am one of those members.>>

<<A…double agent?>> Ossanlin shook his head, perplexed by the shock and convolution of everything involved in the discussion.

<<I suppose you could say that. Ossanlin, Sector Seven seeks out bright, high-achieving members for its ranks, and I must warn you that they are very interested in you. It is all but certain that they will make contact with you. When they do, Ossanlin, I would ask that you accept their offer. I would tell you to refuse, but Sector Seven will do everything they can to destroy your career if you do. They are very effective, and a young Warrior fresh off of his aristh bar is not difficult to crush under-hoof…especially with the resources that Sector Seven have at their disposal.>> Raigar placed a hand on Ossanlin’s shoulder, holding his eye-contact. <<I have faith in you, Ossanlin. If you do join, and prove yourself to them, they will do everything they can to help your career. If you endure long enough, you’ll reach a position from which you can act with some autonomy. If you make it that far, Ossanlin…you will make a tremendous difference for all of the People. You could become one of us.>> Raigar smiled a bit sadly, and Ossanlin could sense remorse and a touch of sadness in Raigar’s tone. <<Would that you could escape their grasp entirely, but as things stand now, that’s not possible.>>

<<I…would become one of you. A double-agent…there are others?>> Ossanlin controlled his features and tone of thought masterfully for one so young.

<<Yes, Ossanlin. There are several of us. I know a few myself, but of necessity, there are several of which I do not know. I am acquainted with one Andalite in particular…he’s not so different from yourself. I will not reveal to you when he graduated, again of necessity, but you remind me somewhat of him. He once told me jokingly that he’d create his own branch of Sector Seven called Sector Nine.>> Raigar smiled and chuckled. <<Quite the wry sense of humor in that one. He made good on his promise, too. Perhaps I should ask him if I could join.>> Raigar chuckled again.

Ossanlin merely nodded, forcing a small smile for the Prince’s benefit. Ossanlin had come to the Reflection Room for a clear mind…instead his thoughts had been scattered even further by Raigar’s revelations. The information was almost too much, and it was certainly too much to filter through now. Ossanlin used a trick he’d learned in command training…in order to prioritize, one had to take non-time-sensitive information and file it away in one’s memory if necessary. It could be withdrawn later much like a computer file for a full perusal.

Ossanlin took a deep breath before clasping his hands and bowing in front of Prince Raigar. <Thank you Prince, for all of the assistance you have rendered to me over the entirety of my time here. There is no way I can repay you.>

<Nonsense, Ossanlin. You were an excellent student, and I expect I’ll be calling you “Prince” in a few years instead of “cadet.” Now you’d best make your way to the graduation ceremony. They’ll want you there before the proceedings begin.> Raigar smiled genuinely this time and nodded.

Ossanlin nodded in return and headed to the lift, taking it down to the Academy proper. The place was beginning to fill up as Andalites woke and tended to their morning ablutions and duties. Ossanlin could feel an almost palpable sense of excitement in the air. Graduation days always had that sort of effect. Ossanlin found himself regarding every Andalite he passed in the halls and out on the grounds with suspicion and doubt. Instead of the safe haven of freedom and enlightenment that Ossanlin had always seen before, the Homeworld now felt like a foreign place full of unknown dangers and precipitous pitfalls. If Sector Seven’s grasp was really so tight as Raigar believed, at least some of these Andalites would belong to the organization.

Of course, nothing but what Ossanlin already knew of Raigar said that he was right. Perhaps the Prince had exaggerated Sector Seven’s influence, or wasn’t completely familiar with the organization’s true power. But Raigar had never been prone to misrepresentation before, and this was certainly no time for him to break his mode of operation. It would be safest to assume that Raigar had told the unadulterated truth until Ossanlin had enough information to formulate his own opinion of the situation.

For now, Ossanlin merely filed the information away. He was able to cultivate a middle-ground in his mind’s eye. Not everyone belonged to Sector Seven after all. And the Homeworld was still a haven, if not quite so safe as Ossanlin had once thought. The smiles and nods, the congratulations and well-wishes…all became friendly again. But Ossanlin knew he’d never see the Homeworld the same way as he had before.

The Grand Green was really little more than a large, round field bordered by evenly-spaced fluted, cloudy-crystal columns twenty feet high. There was a raised plinth at one end with a wide podium facing the open portion of the Green. Ossanlin joined the semi-organized group of graduating students gathered to the side of the Green, and raised his chin as one of the graduation attendants pinned the honors double-crescent on the front-left of his formal dress-collar. Normally the honors recipient would give a speech at the ceremony, but this was a special circumstance. There were two honors recipients with this graduating class. Since Ossanlin was graduating early, a second honors recipient was named from the actual class that was graduating today. He would be the one giving the speech, and Ossanlin was perfectly fine with that.

Things went fairly quickly after the ceremony finally started. Of course there was an address by the Academy’s Patriarch, Metran, and then by Prince Raigar. Prince Alar, Second-Commander of the Andalite military also gave an address, followed by the honors recipient from the graduating class. Ossanlin listened and watched as each person spoke. Which ones belonged to Sector Seven? Which ones did not? Did it matter at this point? Ossanlin put on an expression of restrained pride as he walked up to the Academy Patriarch. He lifted his chin and smiled as the Metran pinned the aristh bar to the front right of his formal collar. Raigar beamed as he handed Ossanlin the padded box that contained his insignia belt-clasp…his badge of office. He returned Prince Alar’s tail-salute and returned to his spot for the conclusion of the ceremony.

He endured the congratulations and well-wishes of his former instructors, and the other Andalites present before finally managing to extricate himself. Ossanlin returned to his barracks for the last time, most of his personal effects had already been moved out. He’d prepared a small bag the day before to carry with him on the shuttle. He took the time only to change from his formal belt to his utilities belt. He donned the silver aristh belt badge and the new swords that Siruvan had given him. He also removed his formal collar with the pins still attached, and carefully packed it away with his dress belt.

He made his way across the Academy grounds for what could possibly be the final time, mentally bidding everything and everyone farewell. The absence of air-traffic overhead was actually somewhat off-putting. With the multiple Cyrenk launches and the shuttle departures today, it made perfect sense, but the lack of blue and silver flashes overhead was still odd. The Sky Garden was hidden by the daylight, of course, but Ossanlin looked in its direction anyway. His final night on the Homeworld would actually be spent above it, aboard the massive space-station.

The planet-side Academy hangar was a bustle of activity when Ossanlin arrived. No surprises there…there were multiple shuttles being readied for orbital transport. With the war-effort in full swing and a shortage of able bodies, fresh-minted arisths weren’t given even a moment’s rest. Academy graduates shipped to the Sky Garden the very same day they were awarded their bar.

Ossanlin followed the appropriate glowing blue lines on the floor to lead him to his assigned shuttle. Not surprisingly, Siruvan was waiting near its entrance. Ossanlin smiled a bit to himself and approached his shorm. The two grasped forearms and struck their tailblades together in friendly greeting before pulling back. Siruvan smiled again and glanced over further with his stalk-eyes.

For the first time, Ossanlin noticed his mother standing near the shuttle as well. <Mother!> Ossanlin moved toward her and gave her a firm embrace. 

<Too busy to see my only son off into the Galaxy? Ossanlin, I thought you knew me better than that.> His mother smiled gently and placed her right hand on Ossanlin’s left cheek. He returned the gesture. <Look at you, so strong already. The military suits you, firi.>

Ossanlin felt a blush rising beneath his fur...his mother hadn’t used that endearment on him in years. <Mother…> He paused, changing what he was going to say. <Thank you, mother. For your love and for everything else.> He smiled and embraced her again. Such public displays of affection were not common, and he’d likely catch some flak for it later, he knew, but he’d decided it was a small price to pay.

<Of course. You’re an adult in your own right, but you’ll always be my firi. Mothers have special priveleges.> She smiled again before continuing. <Your father…>

 Ossanlin smiled and nodded. <It’s alright, I’m glad I got to see you once more at least.>

His mother fell silent, smiling secretively. <Indeed, he is a busy Andalite. But I’m sure you’ll see him again. And you’d better make sure to see me again too. I’m not about to lose my only son to an Imperial lackey.>

<Of course, mother.> Ossanlin smiled.

<Good. I’m glad that’s settled. Just remember who you are out there. Never lose who you are.> Ossanlin’s mother smiled back and gave him one last embrace before stepping back.

Siruvan had been standing back to give Ossanlin the moment with his mother, but he stepped forward now. <Ossanlin, your friendship has meant the world to me. I’ll carry on Ken’Kara, but I’ll make sure that everyone who learns it knows who the form’s true master is. You’d better come back and visit me too.>

<Of course, Siruvan. I’ll carry your blades with me every waking moment, my shorm. And you will be the first person I visit when I come back, aside from my parents of course.> Ossanlin smiled and embraced his friend.

<Good. Life will be difficult without you here, but I’ll find you in Ken’Kara. Now go make the People proud.> Siruvan smiled and pushed Ossanlin gently toward his shuttle.

Ossanlin nodded, and with a final glance at Siruvan and his mother, he boarded the craft. The ship seemed cramped after the wide open hangar, but Ossanlin tried not to think about it. Aboard the Dome Ship, his quarters would be abysmally tiny. Best to imagine the wide-open spaces.

Ossanlin entered one of the restraint stalls. These shuttles were built for capacity, not comfort. He felt the gentle pressure of the inertial field settle over him, and glanced out the window. Of course the ship’s computer checked the identities of every individual who boarded. Ossanlin noted that he appeared to be the last arrival. The lights around the shuttle’s landing pad turned red before it lifted off and started to glide smoothly toward the hangar’s exit. Thankfully the shuttles were fully-equipped with inertial dampers despite being built for economy, but Ossanlin could still feel the motion of the ship somewhat. Only a portion of the inertia was actually cancelled out.

After the shuttle left the hangar, he felt the EV thrusters kick in and the ship began to rocket into the sky. Ossanlin hadn’t been in orbit for a few months, and he’d only been to the Sky Garden once before, but he could feel both excitement and trepidation creeping into his mind. He did his best to keep them under control, but there was good cause for both.

Cendorus looked so much smaller from ten kilometers up, and it only continued to dwindle. Suddenly space seemed a massive, endless ocean too large even to comprehend. Ossanlin found himself wondering if he’d ever return from this black abyss to his beautiful home. Of course…he’d come back, and he’d do all the things he’d said he’d do. Of course he would.
[/spoiler]

Aluminator (Kit):
Gah! I am sorry it took me so long to read this. Loving it, as always ^_^ The 'Sector Nine' reference had me grinning ;D

Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin):
No worries, Scott. Thanks for taking the time to read it. ^^ Honestly your post highlighted something I wasn't aware of...I thought I'd posted the next chapter, but I hadn't. So I went ahead and put a few finishing touches/edits on it, and here it is. XD Now you need to continue Salem's story. You are OBLIGATED. :p Also, please post in Rogue Element when you have the chance...there's a post up from Shen, and Ossanlin will likely be speaking with Aetheas soon about that...thing. ^^

[spoiler=Chapter 5: Exodus]The reddish glow of the Homeworld’s atmosphere faded as the shuttle gained more and more altitude. The warm, comforting hue slowly shifted to black specked by the clearly visible stars. Ossanlin felt the unnatural shift from true gravity to artificial gravity. For most, artificial gravity was indiscernible from the true gravity generated by a large quantity of mass in space, but for a few, artificial gravity felt…unsettling. Even the most-gifted physical theorists and biologists on the Homeworld couldn’t unravel the mystery of how anyone could perceive a difference. The artificial gravity produced the same perceived physical forces on the body as natural gravity, yet it felt to Ossanlin like something was just…off. He couldn’t explain it himself, but he’d learned to deal with it during ship and fighter training, and he’d learn to do so again.

The Sky Garden hung in front of the shuttle, suspended in its geosynchronous orbit, massive and growing larger as the fighter approached. The giant space-station and ship-yard facility looked a bit like a three-dimensional model of an atom with the electrons frozen in their orbits around the nucleus. There were four massive shipyard/assembly “petals” around the central axis, all on the same lateral plane. There were three smaller “petals” extending at angles from both the top and the bottom of the central sphere. The primary shipyard petals all existed on the same plane for a reason…they were built to rotate around the central axis. All the Dome Ships that emerged from the Sky Garden shipyards went through different stages of construction that required different parts, tools, and supplies. Instead of moving each incomplete ship to the next station, it was easier to move the next station to each incomplete ship for the next stage of construction.

The other six, smaller petals were for docking, maintenance, and refits of existing ships. Ossanlin strained to catch a glimpse of the Dome Ship he’d be joining at one of the auxiliary petals, but the yard he could see into from the shuttle’s approach angle was empty.

Ossanlin watched as the shuttle passed by one of the branches leading to the Auxiliary petal and made its way toward a set of smaller hangars built directly onto the central sphere. He felt the craft decelerate as it approached the wide, shielded portal. The hangar looked small in comparison to the rest of the massive space station, but inside, one could see that it was nearly as large as the Academy hangar in Cendorus, and there were three others just like this one located around the nucleus.

Ossanlin subconsciously braced himself as the shuttle touched down on its designated landing pad. The shock was actually less than he’d expected from this old workhorse of a transport. <Welcome to the Sky Garden, arisths. Please disembark in an orderly fashion.> The older male pilot opened the main doors, and Ossanlin felt the restraint field lift from his body. He procured his bag and was the first to exit, having been the last to arrive.

Thought-speech voices flooded around him. Other shuttles were still touching down, while a few were actually taking off. Voices echoed over the thought-speech relays, various announcements that applied to other groups. <All arriving arisths, please proceed to orientation at speech annex 1, follow the light-green lines. All arriving arisths, please proceed to orientation at speech annex 1, follow the light-green lines, thank you.>

Other announcements continued, but Ossanlin ignored them as he proceeded down the walkways, following the light green glowing lines on the floor. The mobile walkways helped, but the Sky Garden was a very large place. It took Ossanlin better than fifteen minutes to reach his destination.

The speech annex was a large, three-dimensional bowl with a slightly-domed ceiling. It was bright with lines of light-blue and silver lights tracing around the entirety of the space. Some arisths had already arrived and were chatting amongst themselves, but others were still filing in. Ossanlin found a place near the inner third of the room and stood by himself, allowing some of his filed-away thoughts to percolate through his brain, his attention wandering somewhat.

<Hey, you’re that prodigy youngling aren’t you? Ossanlin, wasn’t it?> Ossanlin’s eyes widened as he turned to see his father standing near him. <You know I could’ve taken your head off if I’d wanted.> Aran smirked.

<Father!> Ossanlin embraced his father’s arms firmly, bowing his tail in respect. <What on the Homeworld are you doing up here?!>

<Oh, I just thought I’d take a vacation…you know.> Aran smirked again. <<I’m up here for the Labs of course. Working on artificial and non-gravitational experiments for a new collider series.>> He winked.

<Ah, well the Sky Garden seems a strange place to take your leisure, but who am I to judge?> Ossanlin winked back and grinned. <I’m rather pleased to see you, father.>

Aran raised his eyebrows and chuckled. <Lyrian told me you’d matured…I must say I wasn’t quite sure what she meant until just now. Your age says you’re still a youngling, but your eyes say otherwise.> He nodded approvingly. <I’m pleased to see you as well, son. An aristh…honor-bound and ready to serve the People. You do make that belt-bar look good, son.>

Ossanlin grinned again. <Thank you, father. I’ll try to put it to good use.>

Aran nodded. <I’m sure you will, son. As long as you don’t forget who you are, and as long as you fight for what you believe in, and not some vaunted, standardized ideal…you will.>

Ossanlin smiled and nodded back. <I’ll never forget who I am or where I came from, father.> He paused for a moment before speaking up again. <Perhaps we could have a quick sparring session before I leave.> He smirked.

Aran chuckled. <I’d love to, son, even knowing how badly I’d lose, but I must admit…I more or less snuck away to come see you. We’re actually in a critical phase of…vacation…and I doubt I’ll have the opportunity to get away again. Besides, they’re going to be keeping you even busier than me.> He nodded and smiled.

<Arisths, your attention. The sooner you’re quiet, the sooner we can move on.> A loud, male thought-speech voice permeated the room. Ossanlin hadn’t noticed how much the room had filled since he’d arrived. There wasn’t much room left in the annex as thousands of young andalites flooded the space.

<That’s my cue. Good luck, Ossanlin. Know that your mother and I will always love you…just never forget who you are.>



Aran nodded and turned toward the nearest exit, half-walking, half-jogging. Ossanlin couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. His father had always been remarkably…relaxed…for an Andalite.

Ossanlin turned to regard the male speaking from the raised platform. <Thank you. Welcome to the Sky Garden and your first day as an initiate of the honor-bound Andalite military. You have all demonstrated your worth by completing your studies at the Academy, but as of today, that means precisely nothing. The Academy was a nursery school compared to what’s waiting for you amongst the stars. Your learning begins now, and it’ll never be done…>

Ossanlin listened as the male spoke. He went on about honor and respect. About safety and following the chain of command. About giving everything to the People and your fellow soldier. It wasn’t flowery, but then it wasn’t meant to be. The speech was supposed to be realist, Ossanlin could tell. It was designed to evoke a certain response from those listening. For the most part, it seemed to fulfill its purpose. Finally the arisths were dismissed to receive their official placement orders. All of the arisths had already known for weeks if not months where they were to be stationed, but the official orders couldn’t be given to cadets.

Ossanlin waited for the majority of the arisths to file out before making his own way out of the annex. Across the hall from the annex was an administrative office where the official orders were being doled out. There were several desk-stalls built into the walls with lines of arisths awaiting their official assignments trailing from each.

Despite the large number of Andalites in line, those manning the desks were highly efficient and Ossanlin’s wait wasn’t all that long. He was soon standing in front of one of the desk-stalls, a young male on the other side tapping the panels of a small computer. <Aristh Ossanlin-Rethin-Sephirel reporting for duty.>

<Ossanlin-Rethin-Sephirel…duty assignment as follows.> The young male read from his small computer display. <Dome-Ship Galaxy Tree. Tail-Fighter pilot, call-sign ‘Slaedreth.’ UCO War-Prince Caseel-Ekran-Kelir, Captain.> The young male pulled a small data-card off of the stack sitting next to him and passed it over the computer. He handed the data-card to Ossanlin. <There was a note in your file. Prince Caseel wishes to speak with you immediately after equipment issuance. You’ve been given Quartermaster priority status. Proceed immediately to the armory along the orange guide-light and present this.> Ossanlin took the red slip of poly-film that the young male proffered. <Once you’re equipped, proceed to Auxiliary pad four to meet with the War-Prince. Thank-you.>

Slightly bemused, Ossanlin passed through the throng of waiting arisths and proceeded out into the hallway, following the bright orange line along the corridor. When a Prince requested an aristh’s attendance, said aristh did not keep his Prince waiting.

Ossanlin boarded one of the moving walkways, but it still took him almost ten minutes to reach the armory. Of course the lines here were just as long as they had been in the administrative room, but one flash of the poly-film pass and the guards directed him to a very short line along the left side of the room.

The primary armory aboard the Sky Garden was nothing short of impressive. A virtual army of andalites worked behind a 50-meter-long tran-steel counter that spanned the entire width of the room. Behind the counter, tall tran-steel stacks rose fifteen feet high stocking an organized plethora of field-gear from ARC units to Shredders. From transponders to assault weapons. Everything needed to outfit newly-deployed andalites. Several andalites were packing bundles and placing them in bins. Those actually manning the counter were continually removing bundles from the bins next to them and handing them to the andalites being outfitted. Still others were moving bins around…taking empty bins from the andalites manning the counter and replacing them with full bins…it was a choreographed dance of chaos.

Ossanlin barely had enough time to take it all in before he was at the counter himself. He handed the poly-film pass over to the female manning his counter. She smiled at him before speaking up. <Aristh Ossanlin-Rethin-Sephirel?>

<Yes.> He smiled back.

<Just a moment.> She reached into a small stacker sitting beside her and selected a particular bundle, drawing it out and placing it on the counter in front of Ossanlin. <One standard issue field-survival kit with a few additions. You’ve been issued one hand-held Shredder, one independent transponder, one field medical kit, one two-day emergency ration pack, one Apix Realtime Computing unit, one ARC holo-emitter, and one flight-patch pin.>

Ossanlin raised his eyebrows. <I’ve been issued an ARC?>

The female nodded and smiled again. <You must be special.>

Ossanlin blushed a bit under his fur and chuckled nervously. 

<You’re very welcome.> The female winked.

Ossanlin blushed a bit harder and moved out of the armory somewhat hastily. His Prince was waiting for him after all.

Aboard one of the moving walkways again, Ossanlin set about removing each of the items from his bundle and clipping them into place on his uniform belt. The holstered Shredder, the ARC in its protective carry-case, the transponder, his med-kit, and his emergency ration pack…managing to fit it all onto his belt without disturbing his swords or crowding his rank insignia. He attached the flight-patch pin to his belt next to the aristh insignia. The embossed, metallic pin read “Slaedreth” in raised, silver letters around an angled silver tail-fighter with artistic engine contrails behind it. Most aristh Tail Fighter pilots had to wait weeks if not months for their flight-patch pins.

Finally he hooked the ARC holo-emitter over his right ear and commanded the unit to activate. ARCs were fairly new additions to the Andalite arsenal, and were generally only issued to officers due to their semi-rarity. They were supremely handy tools though, and Ossanlin was grateful to get one, even knowing the likely source of his preferential treatment.

By the time the ARC had finished its calibration sequence, Ossanlin had boarded the moving walkway inside the branch that headed out to Auxiliary petal four. He felt fluttering in his mid-section in spite of himself. He was about to meet the Captain of the ship that he’d be stationed on for (arguably) the next few years. He hadn’t felt these kinds of nerves in a very long time.

As the walkway conveyed him into the petal structure, Ossanlin took in a deep breath. Before him, the Galaxy Tree revealed itself in all of its glory. The massive Dome ship’s contours reflected the light artistically, despite the ship’s age. The Tree was a first-generation Mark I Dome Ship. It had undergone retrofitting of course, but it still showed its age, in its size if nothing else. Mark I’s were much smaller than their newer, more powerful Mark II brothers

As Ossanlin looked around inside the bay, a pair of Andalites standing near the edge of the gravitational field caught his eyes. He noted the older male’s belt rank insignia…a War-Prince…and next to the badge, the Captain crescent. So that was Prince Caseel. The younger male engaged in conversation with him wore a Prince Lieutenant insignia, and he was gesturing somewhat angrily with one hand.

<My Prince…I must protest. Swiftblade will suffer!> The younger male continued to gesture with his hands, his tail held somewhat arched.

<It has already been decided, Prince Lieutenant. He will be taking the spot left vacant by Coirus.>

<Please, Prince…give me one of Sylvan’s pilots…he can fill in there.>

 Caseel directed a sharp look at the younger male.

Kirion looked frustrated, as though he wished to say more, but remained silent. His stalk eyes caught Ossanlin and he directed his main eyes at him, scowling before turning and stalking off in an apparently foul mood.

Caseel sighed to himself before turning his main eyes on Ossanlin. <Ah, you must be the reputed Ossanlin-Rethin-Sephirel.>

Ossanlin tail-saluted smartly. <Yes, my Prince.>

<Be at ease, aristh…you aren’t in the Academy anymore. I merely wanted to meet you. I have been told that you are a highly-gifted fighter pilot amongst other things.>

Ossanlin relaxed a bit. <Some people say that, my Prince. In my own eyes, I am passable.>

Caseel arched his eyes. <A modest Tail Fighter pilot? I’m getting too old for unexpected surprises.> He chuckled a bit. <The way everyone talks about you, I assumed you’d be ready to conquer the Empire by yourself overnight with your Shredder-hand tied behind your back.>

Ossanlin surprised himself as he spoke. <Well…not overnight. I thought perhaps four days...five at most.> He fell silent, slightly aghast. One did not make off-hand jokes with his Prince, especially if that one is an aristh.

Instead of reprimand, Caseel laughed deeply. He smiled and Ossanlin’s anxiety dropped another notch. <Prince Raigar told me to expect…great…things from you.>

Ossanlin stopped dead in his tracks, Caseel coming to a stop next to him as if nothing abrupt or impromptu had happened. He looked up at his new Prince, whose eyes had turned quite serious.

<<Indeed, Ossanlin. Your stationing aboard the Tree was no mistake. Raigar has informed me that you have been apprised of the…situation. No doubt you have ascertained the truth regarding your recent preferential status. I am your ally, aristh.>>

Ossanlin nodded before moving forward again. <<Very well, my Prince.>>

<You have been assigned to Swiftblade squadron as a replacement for Coirus who accepted a promotion to another ship. They’re a close-knit group, so it might take some time for them to warm up to you, but they’re one of the best current squadrons in the fleet.>

Ossanlin chuckled ruefully. So…that little conversation had been about him.

Caseel glanced at Ossanlin, but didn’t comment upon his reaction. <Your ICO will be Prince-Lieutenant Kirian-Mevilir-Harak. He’s got years under his belt in a Tail Fighter. He would’ve been promoted long ago if it wasn’t for his desire to stay in the ****pit. He’s Swiftblade’s Squadron Commander.>

<Yes, my Prince.>

Caseel stopped again, Ossanlin following suit. <It was good to meet you, aristh. Now, I have some matters to attend to. I suggest you board the Tree and get settled in. Kirian will likely be in the primary docking bay. It might do some good for you to seek him out. He’s not in the most sanguine of moods at the moment, but a little outreach on your part might help mitigate his first impressions of you.>

Ossanlin tail-saluted sharply. <Yes, my Prince. Thank you.>

Caseel returned the tail-salute in a much more relaxed manner before turning toward the administrative portion of the auxiliary bay. Ossanlin, in turn, made his way toward one of the ship-ways. This ship and crew would be his home and family now, and likely for years to come.
[/spoiler]

Aluminator (Kit):
Alright, Oss's career's takin' off ^_^ And I dunno about OBLIGATED... but I have been writing again. Getting to the point here where there'll be some overlap between Salem's story and Ossanlin's, at least as far as characters and settings are concerned. Ought to be fun.

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