Paragon Prince -- Ossanlin's Story

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

Okay, so...almost three-year cliffhanger...dang. ..am I a master of suspense?  DUN DUN DUN....nah, I'm just lazy.  Ba Dum Tish...but in all seriousness, at long last, the conclusion of Chapter 6.


[spoiler=Chapter 6: Death of Innocence - Part II]"<Ossanlin?  Ossanlin, report!>  Caseel’s voice echoed over Ossanlin’s personal communicator.

<Two squadrons of bug fighters…and a Blade Ship, my Prince.>"


Ossanlin furrowed his brow and assessed the situation.  No way two Tail Fighters could take on two full Bug squadrons.  Well, not unless the bug pilots were absolute trash at their profession...unlike ly.  For the first time, Ossanlin felt helpless.  Who knew how far that transponder had gotten already with the hacking process?  They couldn't waste time, yet attacking was suicide.  His eyes darkened as he readied the engines for a full burn.  <Arkani...we have to try.>

Suddenly two more signatures, and then a third popped around the planetoid from behind them!  Could they have been flanked so easily?  <If we try, we try as a squad.>  That was Deknil!  <Try?  Hah...I think you meant 'fry.'>  Irania of course.  <This is bigger than any of us.>  Kirtik!  Ossanlin smiled to himself...now it was five Tail Fighters against eight Bugs.  Not even odds by any means, but doable.  Easily doable by one of the best Squadrons in the the Andalite military.  Ossanlin flowed to the side, but all four formed up with him in the lead spot...Merkel formation.  Kirian was nowhere to be found.  He took a deep breath and punched up a max burn.  <Okay, let's teach these yaolin-spawn not to mess with Swiftblade!>

A chorus of cheers erupted over squad-comm as his team-mates followed, staying tightly packed in formation.  <Watch the Blade Ship...we need to stay away from its point-defense, those big dracons will vaporize us, but they're hard to aim and we can see them coming from ten clicks off.  Remember there's only five of us here...no one leaves ANYONE open!  If we break formation, Kirtik, Deknil, Irania...stick together.  Arkani stick with me.>

Multiple assents echoed over squad-comm.  Somehow they'd all fallen under his command, despite out-ranking him.  He didn't have time to wonder about it before they merged with the Bugs protecting the freighter.  Flashes of Red and Blue arced around Ossanlin's ****pit.  They kept formation for a moment, but the sheer number of bugs forced them to break into two groups.  Ossanlin registered a huge energy build-up in the vicinity of the Blade Ship.  <Blade volley, BREAK!>

The two fighter groups broke into quick evasive actions as the canopy polarized with the bright red light of the Blade Ship's primary Dracon blast.  The bugs were pesky...of course they would've entrusted their best fighter pilots to this most-important defensive action.

Ossanlin's comm burst with Caseel's voice.  <Swift Blade, you have at least two more squads of bugs breaking for you.  The Tree will not be within combat range for sixteen minutes thirty-nine seconds.  Prioritize that freighter!>  Time seemed to dilate as Ossanlin ran through possible strategies.  The frieghter was heavily-armored...fighter weapons would splash harmlessly against the surface.  Ossanlin wracked his brain for details about this particular model of ship.  Used mainly to haul surplus cargo.  Lightly crewed.  Standard turbine-induced engine nacelles, one old-model fusion reactor power plant.  Z-Drive.  Model four cargo doors...carbide chassis.  Wait...model four cargo doors.  Those doors had been retired due to a weakness in the locking clamps.  It wasn't much...but it was something, and Ossanlin intended to use it.

<Deknil, Irania, Kirtik...keep these bugs occupied.  Arkani, follow me.>  Ossanlin led Arkani behind a small asteroid at max burn.  The bugs chasing them disengaged.  Good, the Yeerks thought they were bugging out.  Ossanlin could all but feel Arkani's curiosity.  <Arkani...we're boarding that freighter.>

<What?  Are you mad?>  Arkani sounded a bit frightened again.

<We have to stop them Arkani, no matter the cost.  Look, this freighter is armored, we can't punch it with fighter weapons.  The cargo doors have a weakness in the locking clamps.>  If only he could use his ARC to paint Arkani's display, but alas he wasn't technically Swiftblade's squad commander.  <You'll know them when you see them.  If we blow both the primary locks at the same time, the auxiliary locks won't have time to engage and pressure will blow the hatch.  It's big enough for us to fly inside and land.  We'll take it out from the inside.>

<Ossanlin, I'm a fighter pilot, not a trooper!>  Arkani's tone sounded a bit panicky.

<You'll do fine, Arkani.  We fight for the People, remember.  I need you...I can't do this without you.  The Empire could take Honornet without you.  Now let's do this!>  Ossanlin punched up a burn that would carry him around the asteroid.  Hopefully the others had pulled the bugs away from the frieghter far enough that he and Arkani would be inside before they could react.  He was relieved to see that Arkani followed his lead.

The freighter loomed into view, all hulking angles and protrusions.  Ossanlin navigated quickly to the primary cargo hatch and locked on to one of the primary clamps.  Arkani did the same.  <On my mark, Arkani...three...tw o...one...MARK!>

Twin beams lanced forward, one from each fighter, and melted into the hatch's locking clamps.  Suddenly the door blew out, locks still aglow.  Ossanlin dodged his fighter to the right and then punched forward, pushing through the emergency atmosphere shield onto the Yeerkish freighter and Arkani followed.

A quick check told Ossanlin that the dimly-lit cargo bay was mostly empty...except for the giant, hulking, well-armored transponder array smack in the middle.  He wasted no time, opening the cabin of his fighter and jumping out, drawing his handheld Shredder in a defensive position.  Arkani did the same.  There was no one here now that Ossanlin could see, but they would have company soon.  He engaged the HUD mode of his ARC and his right eye was suddenly afforded with a much more complete picture of the bay.  No life-signs in the room as of yet.  The Yeerks obviously hadn't been expecting to repel boarders.

<<Arkani, stay here and keep our exit route safe.  They're going to pressure you, but you can use the fighter shields and sensor array to help you.  Stay safe.  I've got to get to the fusion reactor.>>

<<Ossanlin, I'm coming with you.>>

Ossanlin looked back in surprise.

<<I'm your wingmate, and I'm not leaving your six open.  Anywhere.>>

Ossanlin quickly nodded and set his fighter to self-defense mode.  The ship cloaked.  A moment later, Arkani's did the same.  The Yeerks would surely detect them, but the chances they'd be able to do any damage to them in the short amount of time the two Andalites would be aboard the freighter is minimal.  <<Okay, but keep your eyes on the swivel.>>

He tried to keep his hoof-falls as quiet as possible as he made his way toward the service corridor.  The ship was mostly cargo-bay, so the chance of them going undetected was almost nil, but they certainly had no reason to draw attention to themselves.  Suddenly he heard foot-falls echoing through the corridor.  With any luck, the controllers would head for their ships and fail to notice them altogether.

Ossanlin ducked into a small alcove near the front of the cargo-bay, gesturing for Arkani to do the same.  He watched as two Hork-Bajir and one other...it was called a human if Ossanlin remembered correctly, ran toward the primary cargo-bay door, their backs to the two Andalites.  He gestured to Arkani, moving silently into the corridor.  Shouts echoed from behind them...first in a language his translator chip did non understand, and then the harsh tones of Gallard.  "Where are they?"

The two made their way down the dimly-lit bare-metal and component hallway.  Ossanlin took the first right turn and went down the ramp.  The hallways were completely empty, but those in the cargo bay would come looking soon enough.  He slid to a stop outside a sealed door.  <<Watch my back, Arkani...this should be engineering.  Once I overload the fusion reactor, we'll have approximately sixty seconds to escape.>>

<<Sixty seconds, Ossanlin?  That's not enough time!>>  Arkani started watching down both of the hallways, nonetheless.

<<It will have to be.>>  Ossanlin quickly interfaced his ARC with the aging computer system.  Hacking the door open was a short matter of course...in just seconds the doors slid open and two Taxxons turned to regard him with their jelly-like eyes.  He quickly drew a bead on the first and discharged.  The thing exploded like an over-ripe kida.  Ossanlin repressed his grimace and flinched as the second exploded to Arkani's blast.

The shouts in the hallway echoed loudly this time.  "agien' via wweapons fire!"  Ossanlin's translator managed to piece together a few words of the human's speech.  <<They're coming, Arkani.  Hold the hallway while I get this done!>>

He rushed into the fusion core room and started interfacing with the primary computer.  Suddenly a Hork-Bajir dropped from the scaffold above and swung at Ossanlin.  He dodged, but a bladed wrist caught his Shredder, knocking it from his hand.  He quickly danced back in the small space, drawing both of his swords.  "I've always wanted to gut an Andalite...never thought I'd get the chance."

<You never will, Imperial scum!>  Ossanlin danced forward, a flurry of tail and sword as the Hork-Bajir met his challenge with its own whirlwind of sharpened death.  Vaguely Ossanlin registers dracon and shredder discharges near the doorway, but his whole mind is caught up in this battle for his life.

"So you like to play with swords...careful, you might get cut..."  With that the controller lashed out, his wrist catching Ossanlin's shoulder.  He hissed through his breathing slits, but used the controller's strike against him, bringing one sword down to hamstring the Hork-Bajir.  The alien crumpled under its own weight before Ossanlin dispatched it with a quick decapitation from his tail.  The whole exchange had only lasted seconds, but it'd felt like hours.  Ossanlin suddenly shook his head and sheathed his swords.  The hull-plating alloy shed detritous immediately, so there was no need to clean the blades...as if he had the luxury of doing that now anyway....

Ossanlin checked on Arkani with his stalk-eyes as he restarted his computer interface.  She had a dracon burn to the top of her front right leg and she was limping.  <<You're hurt.>>

<<So are you.  This is just a singe...cauterized, you're bleeding badly.>>

<<It's fine...we'll get treatment back aboard the Tree.>>  Ossanlin ignored the dull ache and the cascade of blue-green pouring from the deep shoulder wound.  He interfaced his ARC and shut down the coolant pumps in the fusion reactor.  He bent down quickly to retrieve his Shredder and fired at the actuator mechanism, fusing the release valves closed.  Then he fused the pumps shut.  With the pumps fused and the release valve locked, the coolant would no longer be able to keep the core from melting itself apart.

<<It's done...run.>>  Ossanlin made good on his own order and dashed toward the engineering bay exit.  Alarmed shouts echoed through the ship's corridors as Ossanlin passed the three controllers from the cargo bay.  Well, their bodies anyway.  Not a trooper indeed...Arkani had felled thrice the number of controllers as he had himself. 

As they ran up the ramp, two Hork-Bajir ran down from one of the upper decks.  Ossanlin cursed and fired at them.  One was shot clean-through, crumpling in place, while the other ducked back into the hallway.  He began making for the opposite ramp up the other hallway...they would both lead to the cargo bay either way.  Dracon shots sizzled past himself and Arkani as she followed him up the ramp.  He made a skidding turn to the right, sprinting for the cargo bay, Arkani hot on his hooves.

As they reached the bay, Ossanlin commanded his ship out of defense-mode, Arkani's appearing next to his own.  The Hork-Bajir guard standing there was distracted by the sudden appearance of the ships.  Ossanlin burned a hole straight through the controller's head.  He waited for Arkani to hop in her own fighter before he did the same and they lifted off together.  A resounding boom echoed from inside the ship and they both shot out through the open cargo-bay door, punching up a maximum burn immediately.  He opened squad-comm and sent as he exited the ship.  <<Swiftblade flow to safe zone, freighter core nova!  I repeat, freighter core nova!>>

Ossanlin's sensors were off the charts as they showed the impending energy release from the fusion-core nova.  Suddenly a light so bright that even the canopy's polarization effect couldn't dim it emitted behind their fighters.  His sensors showed the shockwave approaching and he pushed all of his shielding power to the rear.  <<Arkani, watch the shockwave!>>

<<Yes, sir!>>  Ossanlin barely registered the honorific, still focusing his mind upon the situation at hand.  He braced as the shockwave reached him and his fighter lurched forward, tumbling erratically within the huge energy wave.  After what seemed like an eternity, his fighter stabilized and he looked around anxiously for Arkani.  He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her fighter several feet from his own, righting itself.  Finally he did a sensor scan and found a lot of wreckage.  Yeerk wreckage.  Finally he heard the cheering over squad-comm.  His other three squad-mates had survived, and there was more than eight bugs worth of wreckage in the debris field.  The Blade Ship was...nowhere to be seen.

<Deknil, the Blade Ship?>  Ossanlin glanced at his displays again.

<Ran off, sir...like a youngling with tail between legs!>

<We would have blown it to bits if it hadn't.>  Irania.

<Glad to see you guys made it out of there.>  Kirtik.

He quickly re-opened the comminication line with the Tree.  <Threat neutralized, my Prince.  The freighter is destroyed and the Blade Ship is no-factor.>

The communication hung for a few moments before Caseel spoke up.  <Good work, Swiftblade.  We destroyed the majority of the armada assaulting Ghostwall.  Those that could leave, did.  The others are being picked apart as we speak.  Ghostwall reports that the assault upon Honornet ceased shortly before it would've broken through.  Looks like the entire Homeworld owes us a debt of gratitude.>[/spoiler]

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

And another chapter!  Because I'm bored and have literally nothing to do!  Well, nothing I want to do anyway.   



[spoiler=Chapter 7: Deliverance]<...are out of control!  You disobeyed direct orders from your superior.  You engaged in a firefight without approval.  You left the designated combat zone without permission.  You endangered your entire squad, and you mutinied against your squadron commander.>

Kirian's tone wasn't overly harsh, no.  He was relishing every word as if it were the most delicious strain of arkadia grass straight from the heart of the Homeworld, Ossanlin could tell.  Both were standing in Prince Kuro's office within the Tree's docking bay.  The Flight Commander himself was not present as he oversaw the cooldown and repair of the Dome's fighters.  He'd graciously allowed Kirian to use the office for his own purposes.

<You're a loose cannon, aristh.  Saying aristh, frankly, is generous, because that will be your rank if you are fortunate.  The demotion will be the least of your worries.  It's possible they could bring you before the courts...you could be decommissioned in dishonor, your entire family shamed.>  Kirian turned his cold, mirthful eyes on Ossanlin.  For his own part, Ossanlin remained silent and stoic.  He wouldn't give the blow-hard the reaction he obviously wanted.

<What do you think of that aristh?  The prodigy, the best out of the Academy in a decade, brought low after less than a year of service.  How will your teachers feel?  Or your parents?  Mmm...it's really quite a shame after all.>  Nothing in Kirian's eyes or tone of thought belied the pity he was ironically espousing as an insult.  <But if you are fortunate, and let's face it, you have been more fortunate than most, you will be demoted and I'm afraid you'll likely be one of the longest-running arisths in the history of the military.  You know how these things go.  I sincerely hope you didn't have aspirations of becoming a Prince...that will no longer be possible as I'm sure you already know.  And of course you'll never fly again.  But I'm sure you'll make a perfectly reasonable sanitation technician.>

Ossanlin could cut the smugness with his tail-blade if he wanted to.  Truthfully the most irritating thing that Kirian had demonstrated thus far was his disdain for sanitary technicians.  Ships couldn't run without them, and domes would be impossible.  They did important, meaningful work, though of course the only thing that mattered to Kirian was flying.

Kirian jumped slightly as the office door slid open.  He immediately stopped what he was about to say, but grinned again as soon as he saw Prince Caseel.  <Ah, Prince.  I'm glad you could join us.  I would like it officially documented that I have filed multiple reprimands upon Ossanlin-Rethin-Sephirel.>

Caseel raised his brow, seeming curious.  <Oh?  Well I suppose you'll have to declare them then.  I know as an efficient officer, you'll want to declare them now.  Very well, I have a few moments to spare.>

Kirian looked slightly surprised, but his smile deepened.  Ossanlin's own hearts fluttered for the first time.  Kirian wouldn't be wrong if Caseel were actually willing to declare Kirian's reprimands.  For the first time, Ossanlin's anger mixed with fear, though none of it translated to his face.

<Ah, yes...firstly, insubbordination and disobediance to his commading officer.  Secondly, engaging in unsanctioned hostilities involving government-issued property.  Thirdly, dereliction of duty in a time of crisis.  And finally, mutiny against command.>  Kirian looked more smug than ever.

<I see.  And will you be reprimanding the rest of your squadron for participating in mutiny?>

Kirian was taken aback for a moment before answering.  <Of course, it will have to be noted on their permanent records.>

<Mutiny is a serious charge, Kirian.  If sustained, your entire squadron, save yourself, will be permanently grounded and possibly discharged.>  Caseel's tone was matter-of-fact.

For the first time, Kirian's smugness slipped, before he turned a vengeful gaze back to Ossanlin.  <He's responsible, they are not.>

<Oh, I see.  I wasn't aware our young Warrior could control minds.>  Caseel turned an appraising gaze on Ossanlin.  Meanwhile Ossanlin merely chuckled on the inside.  He could begin to see where this was going, though not the full depth of it.

Kirian spluttered a bit before recovering.  <He's dangerous, Prince.  He's the one who must be decommissioned!  He almost got Arkani killed on that freighter!  The fact that he boarded a freighter and forced poor Arkani along is more than enough!>

<The way I see it, Kirian, your Arkani would be dead had Ossanlin not taken the actions he had.  Or did you forget how you and the rest of your active squadron abandoned her with two bugs on her tail?>  Caseel turned his penetrating gaze back to Kirian.

Ossanlin could see Kirian's skin darkening beneath his fur.  That had been a failure on the Prince-Lieutenant's part.  Especially since he'd kept a ship in reserve for no apparent reason.

<But don't fret, Prince-Lieutenant.  Swiftblade will not be grounded nor will they be decommissioned.  In fact, they will be commended for their action regarding the Ghostwall Offensive.  After all, they played a crucial role in stopping the Yeerk attack.>  Caseel smiled genuinely.

<Of course, thank you Prince.>  Kirian looked mollified, his skin-tone returning to a normal coloration.  His smug, disdainful look returned as he looked back at Ossanlin.  <Well, you have heard the reprimands.  I've no doubt he will be demoted if not decommissioned for his reckless behavior.  If you'll excuse me Prince, I'd like to oversee the dress-down of my fighter.>

As Kirian turned to leave, Caseel spoke up.  <You have not been dismissed, Prince-Lieutenant.  As it happens, I'm ready to rule upon the reprimands you've issued forth.>

Kirian's eyes narrowed, but he turned to regard Prince Caseel again, sparing only a stalk-eye for Ossanlin, who had continued to remain silent and stoic for the entire time.

<Firstly, Prince-Lieutenant, your charge of insubbordination and disobedience is not substantiated.>  Kirian's eyes flashed and he looked about to speak up when Caseel raised a hand.  <Yes, you issued an order for the Warrior to remain at the Tree.  He followed that order.  But you must remember, Kirian, after quoting me all of these regulations, sub-rider declaration 3935?  Ossanlin was the last remaining deployed fighter at the Tree.  You know full well that this comes with an automatic, temporary promotion to Prince Lieutenant in order to facilitate home-ship defense.  So you see, he did not disobey a direct order from a superior, but from an equivalent officer.  Conflicting orders from officers of the same level issues a written warning to both officers, nothing more.>

Kirian's eyes were wide open, incredulous.  It was almost humorous to watch, but Ossanlin forced himself to remain calm and collected.  Declaration 3935 was an archaic rule, one that was barely ever enforced.

<Secondly, in battle and in times of war, all assets are expected to engage with full potential.  Every single warrior under my command was expected, at the time of Ossanlin's engagement, to fully engage.  He was merely following my standing directive.>

Kirian's face grew more and more angry with each passing moment.  He wasn't fit to be in command of anything.  One shouldn't show emotion so openly, especially to other members of the military, particularly those in your command, or those in command of yourself.

<Thirdly, Ossanlin did not hold his duty in dereliction.  He flowed to the secondary combat zone, which turned out in point of fact to be the far more important of the two.  Moving between combat zones is done at personal or commander's discretion.  Since he was acting home-ship defense commander, he was no longer under your command, and he shared your rank.  The discretion was his.>  Caseel returned Kirian's incredulous gaze with his own perfectly calm one.

<And fourthly, Prince-Lieutenant, since he shared your rank and was not under your command, he did not mutiny.  In fact, you gave no orders during this time whatsoever.  In the absense of direct command, squadrons are allowed to move and engage at personal discretion.  They flowed to help Ossanlin with his objective.  So, Prince-Lieutenant, there will be no courts and no reprimands.  Ossanlin will receive full honors for his pivotal and heroic role in this battle.>

All signs of smugness were gone.  Kirian was now only a ball of pure, unadulterated rage.  With obvious great difficulty and bare personal restraint, Kirian spoke.  <You are...>  He turned to look at Ossanlin.  <He is a threat to the stability of my squadron.  You have my word that as long he's a member of my Swiftblade, he will NEVER fly.>

Caseel merely regarded Kirian with a calm gaze.  Just as the Prince-Lieutenant turned to leave, Caseel spoke up again, freezing the other in his tracks.  <Oh I have some good news for you as well, Kirian.  As acting commander of the heroic Swiftblade squadron during the Ghostwall defensive, you are being promoted.  Congratulations Prince-Commander.  It's been a long time in coming.>

Kirian turned once again, this time the color draining from his face.  <I did not request a promotion!>

<And yet you're receiving one.  Now obviously being a mere squad-commander is much too small a task for someone of your honored rank.  The Tessalis has been without a Flight Commander for well over a month.  I've already recommended you for the position.  No doubt you will be receiving it, given your expertise and long, long history with Tail Fighters.>  Caseel smiled proudly.

Kirian, on the other hand, looked sick to his hooves.  His face had become gaunt and pallid.  <Prince...I do not wish to transfer.  I'm...perfectly fine with remaining at the rank of Prince Lieutenant.>  His speech was nearly private it was so quiet in Ossanlin's mind.  <I signed on for another term with the express guarantee that my flight status would not be revoked...>

<Flight Commanders remain in active flight status, Prince-Commander.  Yours has not been revoked.  You've merely been...promoted.>  Caseel's grin was no longer as warm as it had been and Ossanlin suddenly understood what it meant.

Nothing was more important to Kirian than flying Tail Fighters.  That was all he'd ever wanted to do.  While it was true that Flight Commanders retained an active flight status, they rarely, if ever, actually flew.  They would be deployed as a last resort in battle, but that was it.  What Caseel was really doing was stripping Kirian of what he wanted most.  It was almost diabolic, though Kirian deserved nothing less.  He needed to be removed from direct squadron command after this most recent battle.  Even Ossanlin could see that.

<But...Swiftblade... Prince they will be without a squad commander!>

<Oh, don't you worry about Swiftblade, Kirian.  Their new commander has already proven his worth quite soundly.  Downing multiple bugs, a capital ship, and boarding and destroying a freighter.  Piecing together the Imperial plan without guidance before anyone else...well...and already commanding the rest of the squadron during the offensive when their own commander failed.  I can think of no one better to assume your position.  Congratulations, Prince-Commander.>  Caseel's smile deepened, and Ossanlin's hearts jumped purely in surprise.  He himself would be assuming the role of Squadron Commander of Swiftblade?

Meanwhile, Kirian stiffened visibly.  His face contorted through many emotions from anger, to fear, to sadness and pain.  He slowly turned, not sparing a single eye for Ossanlin, and walked slowly toward the office door.  Stiffly, almost wooden.  It was obvious he was in shock.

Ossanlin turned toward Kirian and gave him a full tail-salute, speaking up for the first time since the other's tirade had begun.  <It was an honor serving under you, Prince-Commander.  I wish you well on your new assignment.>  The words were not cutting, or antagonizing.  They weren't condescending nor were they venomed.  In truth, Ossanlin felt bad for his previous ICO.  If anything, he actually meant what he said.  Kirian stopped, shivered a bit and then continued on out the door of the office.

Ossanlin turned his attention to Caseel.  <May I speak freely, Prince?>

<I welcome it, Ossanlin.  What's on your mind?>  Caseel's demeanor had changed back to warm and friendly.

<I am uncomfortable with the situation.>

<In what way, Command-Warrior?>

Ossanlin stopped short.  Had he...had he said "Command-Warrior?"  Really?  Had Ossanlin really only spent less than one standard day as a Warrior before being promoted to Command Warrior?

<I...well...>  Ossanlin paused to gather his thoughts again.  <I...am uncomfortable being the reason behind Kirian's removal from his current position.>

<You're not the reason, Ossanlin, nor will you be blamed.  It is improper for a Prince-Commander to remain as a Squad-Commander.  I have faith that Kirian will be a successful Flight Commander, even if it isn't exactly what he wants.>  Caseel smiled a bit.

Ossanlin gave his Prince a no-nosense look in return.  <You wanted him removed from the position, Prince.>

Caseel smiled a bit brighter.  <I can see why Raigar likes you, Command-Warrior.  Most senior staff thought it inappropriate that Kirian was still actively flying in a Tail-Fighter squadron.  You fly a fighter, and if you prove yourself a capable commander, you move on to something with more responsibility.  If not, you retire.>  Caseel paused, looking over Prince Kuro's desk before returning his stalk eyes to Ossanlin. 

<You have to understand, Ossanlin...there are a lot of Tail Fighter pilots who don't want to move on.  They get...addicted...to it.  It's all they ever want to do.  That in and of itself is not the problem.  The problem comes when these people become so comfortable, that they stop really trying.  When Tail Fighter pilots get comfortable, they start becoming too self-assured.  After a time, they get to feeling invincible.  This feeling of invincibility leads to dangerous lapses in judgement which can result in their deaths, or in the deaths of their squad mates or of others.  Kirian truly displayed how unfit he had become for this line of work today.  He nearly killed one of his squad-mates, and broke down into ineffectual antagonization late in the defensive.  He cannot command a squadron anymore, nor can he fly.  He would never obey the orders of another Squad Commander.  It's far past time for him to have moved on.  Finally he pushed me into forcing him to move on with his actions today.  You're not responsible for any of that.>  Caseel's tone was nothing but reassuring.

<He will see me as the reason, my Prince.>  Ossanlin moved a stalk-eye to regard the door through which Kirian had exited a few minutes ago.

<I'm afraid he will, but nothing will change that, Ossanlin.  You must understand, Command-Warrior, you cannot please everyone.  You cannot befriend everyone.  You need only have the respect of those who follow your orders.  And you must not be afraid to issue those orders for any reason.  In all things, Ossanlin, you must exude confidence.  Note that I did not say that you must have full confidence in everything you do, but you must exude it to your Warriors to hearten them.>  Caseel paused, looking Ossanlin over from stalks to hooves.  <You impress me, Command-Warrior.  You already have the bearing of a senior officer.  To withstand Kirian without losing your composure...I foresee you'll make a very good officer some day.  To be honest, I would've promoted you to Prince-Lieutenant if it wouldn't have flown in the face of every protocol we have in place.  Command-Warrior will do for now, but you are well on your way.>

Ossanlin repressed a blush at the compliments.  <Do you really think it wise for me to take command of Swift Blade, my Prince?  Won't the others see it as an insult?>

<After today, Ossanlin?  You took control naturally, and they followed your orders.  Orders which led to the successful foiling of a potential null-bomb of a Yeerk offensive.  I don't think you'll have any problems with them whole-heartedly accepting your command.  One of your first duties will be to name a second.>

<Arkani, my Prince.  She did as much as I did, and she deserves a promotion as well.>

<Not to worry, Ossanlin.  Arkani has also been promoted to Command-Warrior.  We'll be looking to replace Kirian's slot with a different flier, obviously.  I'm assuming Kirtik will be paired with the new-comer, whomever that might be?>

<Yes, my Prince.  Deknil and Irania already have a good wing-mate relationship.  I hope that Kirtik will not perceive the action as a slight to his abilities.  All of them were instrumental in the success of the operation.>

<Of course, Command-Warrior.>  Caseel smiled to himself.  Ossanlin couldn't tell why, but he thought it might have something to do with the way he'd accepted command so easily.  He surprised himself, in fact.  It felt very natural.  <Now, you need to go dress-down your fighter.  I would recommend you also call a squad meeting as soon as possible to let them know of the changes in Swift Blade.>

<Sir, would it not be better for them to hear the news from you?>  Ossanlin felt a tad sheepish.

<They're your squadron, Command-Warrior.  You're responsible for that.>  With that, Caseel left the Flight Commander's office to attend to other duties, leaving Ossanlin all but reeling. 

The door slid open again and an andalite, slightly older than Ossanlin himself, snapped a sharp tail-salute.  Ossanlin returned it woodenly.  <Command-Warrior, I was told to bring these to you.>  The aristh proffered up two padded boxes.  Ossanlin instantly recognized them as belt insignia containers.

<Thank you, aristh.>  Ossanlin took both and gently opened the first one, the double-crescented bar gleaming in the lights of the office.  After a moment, Ossanlin realized the aristh was still standing there.  He looked back up and something clicked in his brain.  <Oh..uh, dismissed.>

The aristh saluted again and left the office, leaving Ossanlin bemused once again.  He slowly removed his Warrior belt badge, he'd just donned it for the first time this morning, and placed the Command-Warrior badge in its place on his belt almost reverently.  He placed the Warrior badge inside the empty box and tucked it into a pouch on his utility belt.  He peeked into the other box to see another Command-Warrior badge, doubtlessly for Arkani.

Ossanlin composed himself mentally, thinking about what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it, before trotting out to the walkways toward Swift Blade's series of docking bays.  He could see Deknil and Irania by their ships.  Kirtik was down on the docking-bay floor speaking with one of the technicians.  Finally Arkani popped out of her ship's bay.  He subconsciously rotated his shoulder...treatmen t for both himself and Arkani had involved morphing out and morphing back.  The damage was gone, but he could swear he still felt a phantom pain where the gash had been.

He pulled out his comm and noticed that it had been updated remotely by his ARC to include control of Swiftblade's command priority channel.  He selected it and opened a channel with all four of his squad mates simultaneously.  <Swiftblade, meet by the ship-bays.  We have some matters to discuss.>  The others all looked at their comms and then around the bay, noticing Ossanlin walking toward Swiftblade's ships.  None of them responded...the order didn't need a response, but they would all be able to tell it had been Ossanlin's voice giving the order and not Kirian's.

By the time Ossanlin reached the bays, all four were standing there waiting.  Ossanlin saw all of them glance at his belt badge.  Arkani's eyes shot up.  Irania chuckled and Deknil merely nodded.  Kirtik was hard to read.  <Thank you all for gathering so efficiently.>  He paused, nodding to each of them.  <As of today, Kirian has been promoted to the rank of Prince-Commander.  He has been vetted for the position of Flight Commander aboard another vessel.>  Arkani put a hand to her breathing slits in shock, but Deknil only nodded again.  Kirtik's eyes seemed to be filled with grudging understanding.  <I think we can all agree that he has put in more than enough time in a Tail Fighter to qualify for both of these promotions.>

<As such, I have been advanced to the rank of Command-Warrior and I have been placed in command of Swift Blade.  I have humbly accepted the position, and I hope to earn trust from each of you over the next few cycles.>

<You already have it, sir.>  Arkani eye-smiled.  Irania smirked and Deknil nodded again.  Kirtik looked a bit wary.

<I appreciate that, Arkani.  I also have something here for you.>  Ossanlin held up the box to Arkani.  She gasped a bit and took it from him, opening the lid.  She smiled brightly at the badge inside.  <You've been advanced to the rank of Command-Warrior as well.  I am also naming you as my Second.>

Arkani's eyes widened before she smiled again and then tail-saluted.  <Thank you, sir!  I accept.  And I promise never to leave your six.>

<Now that all of that is out of the way, I want you all to know that I respect each and every one of you.  Today's battle was hard-fought, and it wouldn't have been successful without each and every one of us.  You three destroyed more bugs than I could count from the wreckage.  The boarding couldn't have been successful without you all.  And Arkani, your support onboard was irreplacable.  We did something great today.  We saved Honornet.  With it, we may have saved the Alpha Line and thousands of lives.  That's why Swiftblade is still the military's best fighter squadron!  And we're only going to keep getting better!  Swiftblades, strike!>  Ossanlin and the rest of his comrades did the squadron's unique slashing salute with their tails, smiling.  Even Kirtik.

<Now, let's make sure the techs don't blow out our actuators.>  Irania laughed loudly and Deknil smirked.  Kirtik chuckled for his part.

<<Ossanlin.  I mean, sir....thank you for all of this.  You...well you made me believe in myself and I did things today that I thought I could never do.  So, thank you.>>

Ossanlin smiled over at Arkani.  She'd already donned her Command-Warrior badge.  <<Of course, Arkani.  The only thing that limits you is your own mind.  You've been too hard on yourself.  You're capable of doing anything you put your mind upon.>>  He paused and eyesmiled at her again.  <<And thank you for showing me kindness and respect when no one else would.>>

Arkani blushed a bit, but nodded, still smiling, before moving back to her own fighter bay to finish the dress-down.  Ossanlin did likewise.  A dark thought suddenly hit him...what if Arkani was Sector Seven?  He shook his head...no she was only a Warrior when they met.  He was a Command-Warrior now and they still hadn't contacted him as Raigar said they would.  Of course he'd only been a Warrior for a day...less even.  He tried to dismiss the nagging thought, but no matter how hard he tried, it simply wouldn't go away.  He finally managed to push the thought out of his head and sunk into the process of down-dressing his fighter.  Arkani couldn't be Sector Seven.  She just couldn't be...[/spoiler]

[Aluminator (Kit)]

So I have finally caught up on this. That was an intense batch of chapters there o.O I love your characters-- Arkani and Caseel in particular both had me grinning. This is, as always, still riveting to read. I'm very much looking forward to the next chapter ^_^

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

Thanks Scott.  ^^  Glad you enjoy it.  Sometimes I just have to get the creativity out when the GESB doesn't slake the thirst.  :p

[Forlin]

Finally caught up on this, and it is so good!  I love seeing the progression of Ossanlin's history.  He's such an intriguing character and this was an intriguing story!

As well as all of the worldbuilding you have put into this.  Your descriptions are amazing!  And I love the characters!  I was so amused when I read the last part dealing with Kirian being promoted LOL and his reaction was priceless.

Looking forward to more!

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

Thanks, Forlin!  ^^  Glad you enjoyed it.  I've got ideas floating around for the next chapter, but haven't put text the the keyboard yet.  I'm usually terribly irregular with the post-times on these things.

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

Another chapter, woo-hoo.  This one's a bit shorter and is almost entirely plot expo, but it felt like a satisfying, organic stopping point.  So here it is.


[spoiler=Chapter 8:  Voices in the Dark]A Voice in the Shadows


Change was inexorable, Ossanlin knew that.  To deny change...to ignore it, or to attempt to thwart it was pointless.  Time moved, and change was its currency.  The price of its passing.  With time, as with tail-fighting, one could only adapt and move with the flow.  Such as it was, Ossanlin had a feeling in his gut...a spike of intuition.  As he rested in his sleeping cube, he could feel everything moving around him, changing.  Something was coming, he could feel it, and it was this feeling that kept him from sleep.

It had been several months since he'd been made Squad Commander of Swiftblade, and though the time had been short thus far, Ossanlin had to admit that it had been some of the best time he'd spent in his life.  Tail Fighters were his passion, there could be no doubt about that, and he'd adapted remarkably-well to his command role.  Swiftblade had been involved in several pitched battles over the past few months, and always made a difference in the battlefield.  But that which gave Ossanlin the greatest pride was the fact that he'd not lost a single squadron member.

Change was coming though.  He didn't know anything...hadn't been told anything, but somehow he could feel it approaching, looming, inexorable.  He sighed suddenly, exasperated with his inability to sleep.  He deactivated his sleeping cube and walked out into the concourse outside the Command Warrior quarters.  His cabin was right next to those of his squad mates.  They were all his family now, but that family had ever been temporary even from the start.  He shook his head and trotted to the dome.

The dome was empty at this time of night.  Almost no one availed themselves of the facilities during this portion of the night-cycle, and that suited Ossanlin just fine.  He walked, and then trotted around the dome, closing his eyes and losing himself in thought.  He thought of all those he'd left behind on the Homeworld...had it really been more than a year since he'd last seen everyone?  Mother, Father...sweet Siruvan.  Ossanlin shook his head at that thought.  "Sweet" Siruvan?  Siruvan had been a great friend, and Ossanlin hoped he would be again someday, but that thought had had a different connotation to it.  Of course Andalites acknowledged same-gender pairings, but it was still looked upon as out of the ordinary.  And Ossanlin had never had a thought like that in his life.  In fact, Arkani had been filling his mind of late.  His wingmate.  Would it not have been entirely inappropriate, he would have---....

<Hah, like minds.>  The thought-speech jarred him out of his reverie.  Ossanlin was embarrassed to admit that he'd not even heard anyone entering the dome, let alone the very object of his thoughts.  <I take it you couldn't sleep either, sir?>

Ossanlin slowed, directing a stalk-eye at Arkani as she approached him.  <I've had a lot on my mind lately.>

<Of course.  A commander never sleeps.>  She smiled coyly, walking up beside him.  <But you should always let your wingmate know where you are, else how is she supposed to protect your backside?>  She rubbed the flat of her tail gently against Ossanlin's flank.

Ossanlin, for his part, controlled his features though the surprise of her playful gesture shot through him with the strength of a lightning bolt.  He felt warmth spreading through his body and suppressed a shiver at the delightful feeling.  Arkani had been a tad flirtatious in the past, but she'd never been this forward  with him.  She continued dragging the flat of her tail over Ossanlin's fur up to his humanoid back.  <And it's such a pleasant backside to protect.>  She smirked and laughed coyly as she withdrew her tail and took off at a run across the dome.  Ossanlin gave chase, absolutely befuddled, but compelled to catch her.

After a spirited few minutes of galloping around the dome, Arkani finally stopped, her chest heaving, a sheen of sweat causing her lilac body to shimmer in the soft lighting of the habitat.  Ossanlin ran up to her, grinning with his eyes.  While larger than her, he seemed not quite so winded as she.  <What is the meaning of all of this, Arkani?>

<Oh come on, sir.>  Somehow the honorific had a different tone to it...she'd made it sound silky...seductive.  <You have to admit we have chemistry, else we'd never work as wingmates.  I'm female, and it just so happens that you're male.  And I like spending time with you.>

Ossanlin surprised himself by placing each of his hands upon Arkani's cheeks and bringing his face forward to touch breathing slits.  Arkani took in a surprised breath, but then exhaled in pleasure.  Suddenly Ossanlin pulled himself away, taking a couple of steps backward.  <No...no it's not right.  I'm your commander, and you're my second.  We're in the same squadron...>

Arkani stepped forward and gently but firmly placed her hands on Ossanlin's cheeks and brought their breathing slits back together.  <Why should that make a difference?  There aren't any rules or regulations against it.  Sometimes you're so uptight, Ossanlin.  You just need to...loosen up.>  With that, Arkani snared Ossanlin's tail with her own and Ossanlin gasped.  This was highly inappropriate!  Was she actually trying to engage in mating?  Ossanlin's body felt like it was on fire.

Suddenly a loud voice broke through the miasma.  <Ahem!>

Arkani backed off suddenly, untwining her tail from Ossanlin's.  Both of them had been so wrapped up in the moment that they'd not noticed the third entrant to the dome.

<P-Prince Kuro!>  Arkani stuttered a bit as the male stepped forward.

<You're dismissed, Command Warrior.>  His main eyes held Arkani's like vice-grips.

<I...I..yes, sir.>  Arkani quickly ran from the dome.  <<I'm sorry sir, I got carried away...it won't happen again.>>  She sent privately to Ossanlin as she disappeared into the ship proper.

<Prince Kuro.  I...apologize for what you saw.  It was...inappropriate .>

<That would be an understatement, Command Warrior.>  Kuro walked up to Ossanlin.  Kuro wasn't the largest Andalite, in fact, Ossanlin was actually a bit bigger than him despite being only seventeen...but the Prince had an air about him that demanded respect, and he exuded a confidence that said size didn't matter.  <You need to be more careful.  Fraternizing with those under your command is highly frowned-upon.>

<I understand, sir.>  Ossanlin looked down at the grass in submission.  Though he'd not instigated what had happened, he'd still allowed it to happen.  That responsibility lay with him, especially since he'd been the commanding officer in the situation.

<Well, we'll just forget it happened.>  Kuro fixed Ossanlin with a constant and steady gaze.  <To be honest, I came to speak with you, Command Warrior.>

<Yes, sir.  What do you require?>  Ossanlin looked up to meet Kuro's gaze.

<<I will be frank...I've been commanded to reach out to you.>>  Kuro began to walk around the dome slowly and Ossanlin followed suit.  <<Who are the People, Command Warrior?>>

Ossanlin was suddenly filled with unease and a sense of dread.  <<The Andalite People, Prince.>>

<<And who do we serve?>>

<<The Andalite People, sir.>>

Kuro paused a moment before continuing.  <<Come now, Command Warrior.  Do we truly serve the Andalite People?>>

<<The...Electorate, sir?>>

Kuro looked straight at Ossanlin with his main eyes, a look which demanded that Ossanlin cut to the quick.

<<We...serve the greater good.>>

Kuro finally nodded and continued walking.  <<Finally...results.  Of course we serve the greater good.  That is our duty, our true calling.  That is why we fight the Yeerks.  They must be eradicated for the good of the Galaxy.  I'm sure you can see that.>>

The conversation was beginning to tread upon treacherous ground, and Ossanlin had the distinct feeling that the future of his military career rested upon his responses.  <<The Yeerks must be as disparate of thought as any other species, Prince.  But I agree that the Empire must be destroyed due to the threat it poses.>>

<<Good, I was told you were intelligent.  Seeing the propaganda for what it is is the first step.  Tell me, Ossanlin...what do you believe about the propaganda?>>

Ossanlin took a deep breath, composing himself before answering.  He just needed to tell Kuro what he wanted to hear.  <<It's a tool, Prince.  Wielded by those who are charged with...guiding the Andalite people toward the greater good.>>

Kuro stopped, and finally smiled genuinely.  <<Oh, you will make an excellent addition.>>

<<Then you are Sector Seven, sir.>>  The statement is clearly not a question.

<<Just so, Command Warrior.  We seek out those with a...higher...view of things.  People of intelligence.  People of import.  You fit the bill quite roundly, Ossanlin.  An early graduate with honors...already a hero more than once over and a Command Warrior in only a few short months.  You're bound for greatness.  We can help you reach that greatness...or not.>>  Kuro stopped, fixing Ossanlin with another solid gaze.

<<Allow me to be frank once more.  Sector Seven wants you, Ossanlin.  The benefits of joining are vast.  Power, influence, notoriety...we are led by visionaries, Ossanlin.  The greatest minds in the Galaxy.  You can serve no greater good.  But our influence comes with a price.  If you refuse to join our ranks...well, it would simply be best for you to retire in such a scenario.>>  Kuro's tone belied no insincerity.

Ossanlin, for his part, repressed the shudder of dread that threatened to wrack his body.  Would they actually kill him if he refused?  Or would he be injured or discharged?  The coldness in Kuro's tone brooked no hint of exaggeration.  <<It would be an honor and a privelege to join Sector Seven, sir.  Ever have I wanted only the best for the Andalite People.>>

<<Splendid, I simply knew you'd understand our point of view.  I think you could become a very important individual within the organization, Ossanlin.>>  He paused, glancing around the dome with his stalk eyes.  <<We'll contact you again when necessary.  Otherwise, you will not speak of our conversation nor disseminate anything I have told you.  Continue on as you have been...for now, you'll have no responsibilities to us save your memory of this meeting and the implications thereof.>>  With no further ado, Kuro turned from Ossanlin and walked back out of the dome.

Ossanlin was left with bile in his hooves and a sinking sensation.  Somehow he felt like he'd just sold his soul, and for a price which was yet to be determined.  He'd only spoken the words Kuro had wanted to hear.  He knew that was all they were, yet he cringed at the thought of what he'd said.  It was all so...wrong.  But Ossanlin had always trusted Raigar, and it had been Raigar's counsel he'd relied upon for this meeting, though it be more than a year old.

Somehow Ossanlin had imagined some dark room with masked figures and some sort of oath or ceremony.  This had been a mere chat in the Dome.  But then perhaps Sector Seven had no need for oaths or any other sort of pretense.  If they were really as powerful as Raigar seemed to believe, they would be able to influence anyone who proved to be disobedient...if not directly, then indirectly.

He took a couple of deep, calming breaths.  His own intuition had not been wrong in the slightest.  What would Sector Seven ask of him...or demand of him rather?  Where would his life take him now?  Ossanlin's worst fear, perhaps, was that he might come to identify with, or even support, the goals of Sector Seven.  <'Never forget who you are...'>  Ossanlin's mother's words rang in his head.  Maybe that was the way through this mess...to hold to himself and his own beliefs and convictions as tightly as he could.

He shook his head a bit and trotted back into the ship proper, returning to his quarters.  There was simply no hope of natural sleep now, so Ossanlin used an option he rarely ever exercised...he administered a small dose of anizine to himself.  The mild sedative wasn't addictive, and had very few negative side-effects, but Ossanlin didn't care to use it anyway.  What if the Tree suddenly had to enter combat?  He'd have to take some sort of stimulant to counteract the sedative and even then his wits and reflexes would be dulled.  That dullness could mean his death, or worse, the death of one of his squad mates.  Still, his intuition screamed at him to sleep, and he knew that he'd never be able to do so tonight without chemical assistance.

As Ossanlin entered his sleeping cube and engaged it, his mind started to wander as it often did between waking and sleeping.  His thoughts slowly became more disjointed and abstract until sleep finally came.  Once the sedative took effect, his sleep came quickly, though it wasn't the most-restful.  Still, sleep was sleep.



*            *            *



Ossanlin woke with  a start, and later in the morning than usual.  He felt groggy and somewhat-removed...anizine commonly had that effect upon him.  He sighed and cursed a bit under his breath as he read the numbers on the wall chronometer...the extra sleep-in had cost him precious exercise time.  He'd have to forgo his morning martial-arts practice in order to be duty-ready.  Of course, the Tree was scheduled to remain in Z-Space all day and night well into the following morning, so there would be little for Tail Fighter pilots to do.  The morning dress-down and routine maintenance, that was about it.  Perhaps he'd have time for his 'morning' exercises later.

He felt a pang and realized that the delay in his morning routine had him hungry.  He'd have to make the run through the dome a cursory one...he'd barely have time before duty-ready.  He rushed quickly through the morning ritual, donning his uniform belt before jogging up to the dome.  It was busy this time of morning, though Ossanlin took pains to avoid interactions.  He returned the few tail-salutes that were aimed in his direction, going through the motions of eating as quickly as possible.  After a quick drink from the stream running through the middle, he jogged back down into the ship proper and made his way quickly to the docking bays.  The rest of his squad was already milling about the Swift Blade hangars.  Arkani quite obviously avoided eye-contact with him.

<Morning, Swiftblade.  Roll.>  Ossanlin came to a stop before his squad-mates, catching each of them with his main eyes.

<Command-Warrior Irania reporting for duty.>  <Command-Warrior Deknil reporting for duty.>  <Command-Warrior Kirtik reporting for duty.>  <Warrior Elric reporting for duty.>  <Command-Warrior Arkani reporting for duty.>

<Very good, all present and accounted for.  We don't have much scheduled for today.  Morning dress-down and go through your systems with a fine-toothed comb.  I know you'll all have that done by the mid-day meal, so as soon as those duties are completed, you have the rest of the day to yourselves.  To your ships.>

Ossanlin heard how sterile and detached his own tone sounded.  It wasn't like him to woodenly dole out orders like that, but last night's conversation with Kuro still had him reeling.

<<I really am sorry, sir.  I shouldn't have...I...Prince Kuro, did he...?>>  Arkani was looking at Ossanlin tentatively.  That wouldn't do, he couldn't afford to have her in this state.

Ossanlin quickly closed the gap between them, resting a hand on Arkani's shoulder.  <<It's okay, Arkani.  I'm not angry.  Neither is the Prince.  What happened, happened.  We were both participants and...>>  Ossanlin paused a moment before rubbing Arkani's shoulder gently and then removing the hand.  <<...I enjoyed it, Arkani.  But we're squad mates.  Wing-mates even.  You're under my command.  It's highly-inappropriate and as long as things remain as they are, we just can't go to that place, even if we both would enjoy it.  Okay?>>

Arkani smiled a bit and gave Ossanlin a grateful look.  <<I understand, sir.  I'm sorry I let myself get carried away.  But...if things change in the future, I would like to go to that place with you.>>

Ossanlin smiled and nodded.  <<The future holds the promise of change Arkani, and nothing is impossible.>>

With that Arkani smiled and moved toward her fighter bay.  The others had already gone to attend to their ships as ordered.  Ossanlin retreated to his own fighter bay and started the morning dress-down on his fighter when his ARC beeped and the holographic image of Prince Kuro's face appeared in front of his left eye.  <Command-Warrior, report to my office immediately.>

The ARC shut off and Ossanlin's hearts dropped to his hooves.  He'd thought, from what Kuro had said, that he would have some time to digest things.  To think it all through.  But a Command-Warrior did not ignore the order of a Prince, and Ossanlin set down the walkway at a brisk pace, controlling his nerves through sheer force of will.

<You're pushing him too fast, Kuro.  I'm telling you, reassigning him is a mistake!>

<Nonsense, Captain.  He's one of us now, and from what I've seen, he can handle himself.  He impressed me soundly with his level of understanding.  He needs to move forward.  The opportunity has presented itself and he'll take it.>

As he approached the Flight-Commander's office, Ossanlin heard two distinct tones, both of which he recognized.  One was Kuro himself, of course.  The other was Caseel.

<You're creating the opportunity on purpose!  Just stay on for another six months...he's more valuable in a Tail Fighter...>

The conversation died quite suddenly as the doors slid open.  Caseel looked somewhat upset...for him to show even that much meant the Captain must be very troubled indeed.  He also seemed a bit surprised to see Ossanlin standing in the doorway.

<Ah, Command-Warrior, come in!  I'm so glad you could join us.>  Kuro eye-smiled, but it wasn't pretty...more like a practiced mask executed by a person who'd never smiled genuinely during his entire life.  <The Captain and I were just discussing some exciting opportunities we thought you'd be interested in.>  Caseel still looked troubled, but Kuro only seemed happy.  <As it so happens, I'm transferring to a new post at our next cycle-exchange at Meridian.  Present First Helm Prince-Lieutenant Mescal will be replacing me as Flight Commander.  As such, the position of First Helm will need filling.>  Kuro 'smiled' again, nodding to Ossanlin.

Ossanlin felt as if he'd been knocked over the head with the flat of a tail-blade.  He didn't show it, but remained silent for a few moments as he processed what had been said.  His only facial expression, a raising of his eyebrows at Kuro, before looking over to Caseel.

Prince Caseel sighed and shook his head slightly before speaking.  <I'd like you to fill the position of First Helm, Ossanlin.>  His tone was almost as wooden as Ossanlin's had been with Swift Blade a moment ago.  Ossanlin furrowed his brow, looking back and forth between the two Princes with his stalk eyes, trying to understand just what was going on.  One thing was clear, however...with Kuro's threat still hanging at the forefront of his mind, Ossanlin felt as though he had little choice in the matter.

<I would be honored Captain.  Though I'm unsure that the rank of Command-Warrior is sufficient to fulfill the post, I will certainly do my utmost to live up to your expectations.>  Ossanlin sighed internally.  How could it all change so quickly?  He felt more lost than anything, and he knew he had to figure out what was going on somehow...the future of his career might depend upon it.

<Good!  Glad that's settled.>  Kuro clapped his hands together and glanced at both Caseel and Ossanlin with his fake eye-smile before moving toward the door.  <As such I'm sure the two of you have some things to discuss.  I believe I shall begin preparing my possessions for transfer.>  With that, the Flight Commander left his office, the doors sliding shut behind him.

<<I'm sorry, Ossanlin.  I tried to convince him to leave you in a Tail-Fighter.>>  Caseel looked sad and a bit crestfallen.  <<But he wouldn't take no for an answer.>>

<<Captain, I'm afraid I don't understand.  You outrank the Flight Commander, yet you speak as if he gives you orders...>>  Ossanlin directed his main eyes up at Caseel questioningly.

<<Ah...that.>>  Caseel fell silent for a few moments before explaining.  <<Ossanlin, people like you and I...and Kuro, we have two ranks.  We're initiates of the Andalite military, and are ranked accordingly.  But you'll soon find out that Sector Seven has its own ranks, and they have little or nothing to do with military rank.  You can guess which rank takes precedence...>>  Caseel shook his head before continuing.  <<Kuro is very highly-ranked within Sector Seven.  I know this because I was ordered to take him on as my Flight Commander.  Normally such officer positions are up to the sole discretion of the ship's Captain, but Sector Seven gets what they want.  From my dealings with him, I've come to the conclusion that Kuro is likely a Lord-Lieutenant in Sector Seven.  Just two steps shy of the Lord-Commander himself.>>

Ossanlin raised his eyebrows in surprise.  Sector Seven ranks over-rode military ranks?  So Kuro was actually ranked higher than Caseel?  He shook his head, trying to process all of the information.  <<Do you know why you were ordered to take him on, Prince?>>

Caseel merely raised his own eyebrows before speaking.  <<I think you already know that answer, Ossanlin.  He came onboard very shortly before you were stationed here, and now that you're initiated into Sector Seven, he's leaving.>>  Kuro shrugged his humanoid shoulders slightly.

Ossanlin laughed ruefully.  <<So he came to keep an eye on me, and to convince me to join.  I suppose I should be honored that they sent such a highly-ranked individual to recruit me.>>  Ossanlin fell silent before the realization about being 'reassigned' hit him.  He looked up at Caseel again, a bit of trepidation showing in his eyes.  <<Am I losing Swift Blade?>>

Caseel grimaced, looking at the floor before nodding.  <<Swift Blade is being...decommissio ned.>>

Ossanlin's eyes widened, his face showing his incredulity.  <<What?!  Prince, no!  Why would they do this?!>>

Caseel sighed audibly through his breathing slits before speaking up again.  <<For two reasons, Ossanlin.  And before you ask, there's nothing I can do to keep them together.  First, they don't want your history pulling back on you.  Swift Blade represents a temptation, a step into your past.  They want Sector Seven to be your home and family, Ossanlin.  But moreso than that...>>  Caseel paused, seeming to choose his words carefully before speaking.  <<...is the second reason...Ossanlin, your squadron has done some amazing things.  Don't misunderstand, Swift Blade was ever one of the best squadrons in the fleet, but under your command they've achieved nearly impossible feats.  Swift Blade is legendary now.  Imagine now that the squadron is decommissioned...fi rstly, it will reinforce your importance to the group, implying that they couldn't stick together without you.  Secondly, Swift Blade will remain a legend in the history books, and who will be remembered as Swift Blade's commander?>>

Ossanlin felt like spluttering, listening to Caseel explain the situation, barely managing to keep his composure.  <<Prince, each and every member of Swift Blade is just as important as myself.  None of the things we've accomplished could've happened without each and every one of them!  Are you implying that they would destroy one of the best Tail Fighter assets in the fleet just to boost one individual's reputation?!>>  Ossanlin did his best to control his tone, but he was having trouble.

<<Absolutely and without question, Ossanlin.  It's obvious that you're going to play an important role in the military and this war.  They're laying the groundwork to build you up as a legend whether you want it or not.  They simply want it to happen on their terms and not yours.>>  Caseel's expression was one of sympathy.  <<I'm sorry, Ossanlin.  I truly am.  You have my word that each and every one of your squad-mates will receive assignments that they'll truly appreciate.  I wish I could do more.>>

Ossanlin stood, stunned, silent, and most of all, abhorred.  How could they do something so foolish?  <<I'm sorry sir, but I feel that I should renege on my agreement for promotion.>>  He knew it would mean the end of his military career, but he couldn't bring himself to betray his squad-mates so.  They shouldn't be sacrificed just so some shadow organization could make Ossanlin out to be some sort of war-hero.

Caseel's expression went from pained to stern.  <<You've already agreed, Ossanlin.  And even if you hadn't, refusing this promotion would be military suicide for you.  I know you understand that.>>

<<Prince, I cannot sacrifice my squadron for my own career.  I will not allow that to happen.>>  Ossanlin stood straighter.  After the past night, after the other things he'd said, it felt right to once again speak his own mind.

<<It already has happened, Ossanlin.  It's out of your hands.  Even if you refuse the promotion, they'll dismantle Swift Blade.  If you don't play by their rules, they'll grind you under-hoof.  Don't throw everything away...>>  Caseel's expression looked tired, but there was no lack of firmness behind that visage.

<<At least I'll leave with a clean conscience and my head held high.>>  Ossanlin had already crossed the line into insubbordination and he knew it, but he couldn't stop now.

Caseel sighed audibly again, shaking his head before continuing.  <<Sometimes I forget, Ossanlin, that you're very nearly a child.>>  Caseel paused, holding up a hand to forestall any protests from Ossanlin.  <<Let me finish.  You have the intelligence of an officer.  You have the integrity, the bravery, and the bearing.  You're incredibly mature for your age so it's easy to forget that what you lack is the experience.>>  Caseel latched all four eyes on Ossanlin, his gaze deadly serious.  <<What do you think command is, Ossanlin?  Do you think it's all tail-salutes and miraculous wins where no one dies?  You're smarter than that, so it's safe to assume that you're simply avoiding the realization.>>  Caseel tapped a hoof on the floor.  <<You will command men to their deaths, Ossanlin.  You will give orders that will deprive mothers of their children...that will deprive sons of their fathers.  Your commands will end careers and lives.>>  Caseel paused a moment to let that sink in.  <<Do you think wars are won with a clean blade?  That Hork-Bajir you killed was an innocent host.  A son and possibly a father, being forced to fight you against his will.  You dispatched him.  Not the Yeerk, not someone else, you.>>  He paused again to get his point across.  <<Your tail will be soaked with the blood of both innocents and your own men, Ossanlin.  You may endeavor toward your ideals, but there will be times when you will be ruthless.  You'll be ruthless or even more of your Warriors will die.  You need to make peace with that, Prince-Lieutenant.  Welcome to the ranks of officership.>>

With that, Caseel swiped his tail at something on Kuro's desk, flinging it toward Ossanlin's chest.  He caught it with both hands, immediately recognizing the black box of an insignia badge.  He opened it slowly to see a gold-colored chevron laid over an aristh bar and Warrior crescent staring back at him.  The badge of a Prince-Lieutenant.  The first rank of Princehood.  While Ossanlin fingered the insignia, his fingers truly felt little but the hardness of the metal.  Truth be told, he was almost numb from Caseel's tirade.  His mind kept trying to refute the Prince's words, but no logic could back up his desire.  Caseel had made perfect sense, of course, but Ossanlin had somehow convinced himself that he could be different.  That somehow he could avoid the darkest realities of command.

Ossanlin felt his resolve waver as the thought of the Hork-Bajir's face ran through his mind's eye.  He had killed the poor creature.  He'd been seeing it as merely a Yeerk, but without that controlling parasite, the Hork-Bajir had likely been an innocent pacifist like the majority of his species.  He closes his eyes, fingers clutching tightly at the badge in the box.

<<None of your squad-mates have died, Ossanlin, and they're not being sent to their deaths now.  They're just being reassigned.  Listen, they're offering Irania command of her own squadron on the Starblaze.>>  Caseel's tone had become gentler again...a bit more soothing.  <<Deknil is being offered a position with Strategic Command on the Homeworld, and they want Kirtik to become a Tail Fighter instructor on the Homeworld as well.>>  Caseel finally stepped forward, placing a hand on Ossanlin's shoulder.  Ossanlin jumped a bit, but made no other movements.  <<I'm offering Arkani command of Doom Strike, and Elric will be allowed to join her if he so wishes.  They're down two members as of the upcoming cycle change.>>  Caseel stepped back before continuing on.  <<Never lose that will to fight against them, Ossanlin.  Keep it in your hearts, but appease them for a bit longer.  Let them believe you under-thumb.  One day you'll be able to oppose them.  Just...not yet.>>  Caseel moved toward the door, patting Ossanlin's shoulder once more as he walked past.  <<I'll expect you on helm simulations bright and early tomorrow morning.  Meanwhile, the Tree will be making a real-space stopover at Kerorat Station in approximately two hours...>>  With that, Caseel walked out.

Ossanlin continued to stand still, stunned and numb, in the middle of Kuro's office.  Prince-Lieutenant insignia in-hand.  Change was inexorable.  But for now, at least, Caseel was giving Ossanlin one last chance to fly with his squadron, and he meant to make full use of it.[/spoiler]