THE LAST DANCE
Fondor. What lies behind the bustling streets of the Metropolis is a network of tunnels left by the people before our time. Walking from one exit to another entrance, I recalled the conversation I had with the Minister.
Complete control over every aspect of the agency. Freedom to restructure the agency. Strategic independence. Highest authority on the agency, on par with most of the Alliance's higher-ups. That was my condition for taking the job.
One last dance.
In a galaxy of peace and prosperity that would be considered a ridiculous request. Everyone answers to someone. Yet in that timeline I wouldn't even consider the offer.
A peaceful retirement in a resort planet where not a single soul has even the slightest clue of who I was. Hell, sometimes I even get to bury all those memories in golden sands and crystal clear waves. Yet it's not a galaxy of peace and prosperity. The calamity that has struck my dearest Alliance hasn't escaped me.
My heart bleeds as the Core is ravaged by evil.
In time of peril, this devoted servant of the Alliance, of justice, freedom, and hope, cannot find it in himself to escape his duty.
It is for the greater good, I whisper to myself. We are not fighting a war against a relentless horde of mindless barbarians this time around, nor is it a reasonable autocracy of order or a crusade of misguided zealots. What we are facing are two cunning, calculated enemies who have been plotting for our downfall since the dawn of time.
And now one of them has captured the heart of our once glorious Galactic Alliance.
We need a different approach, I told the Minister. It is impossible to fight such enemies on our terms. The SIA has been handicapped by bureaucracy and rigid regulations for too long, and look at what it leads to. A hidden Imperial Star Destroyer erected in the middle of our once great capital. We need a BETTER approach.
"I need reassurance, Minister, if I am to help you with this crisis."
After all, isn't this what the SIA was established for? To muddle our hand in the mud, to choke the life out of the enemies out of sight, to protect freedom and democracy from those who seek to abuse it? To ensure that the folks of the Alliance can live their life with justice, freedom, and hope guaranteed by the state?
And it seems like the Minister, and behind them the government of the Alliance, agreed with my vision.
"So, one last dance, Director?"
I've walked this street for hours now, familiarising myself with this Metropolis I will call home for the rest of the war, or the rest of my life. There's enough people on the street to hide in plain sight, and there's enough hidden entrances to disappear quickly. All my career I pride myself over the fact that no one can seem to track this phantom known as Strix. A left turn and Strix, the Director, is gone from the street of Fondor, swallowed by the new capital of the Galactic Alliance.
One last dance, it is.
Complete control over every aspect of the agency. Freedom to restructure the agency. Strategic independence. Highest authority on the agency, on par with most of the Alliance's higher-ups. That was my condition for taking the job.
One last dance.
In a galaxy of peace and prosperity that would be considered a ridiculous request. Everyone answers to someone. Yet in that timeline I wouldn't even consider the offer.
A peaceful retirement in a resort planet where not a single soul has even the slightest clue of who I was. Hell, sometimes I even get to bury all those memories in golden sands and crystal clear waves. Yet it's not a galaxy of peace and prosperity. The calamity that has struck my dearest Alliance hasn't escaped me.
My heart bleeds as the Core is ravaged by evil.
In time of peril, this devoted servant of the Alliance, of justice, freedom, and hope, cannot find it in himself to escape his duty.
It is for the greater good, I whisper to myself. We are not fighting a war against a relentless horde of mindless barbarians this time around, nor is it a reasonable autocracy of order or a crusade of misguided zealots. What we are facing are two cunning, calculated enemies who have been plotting for our downfall since the dawn of time.
And now one of them has captured the heart of our once glorious Galactic Alliance.
We need a different approach, I told the Minister. It is impossible to fight such enemies on our terms. The SIA has been handicapped by bureaucracy and rigid regulations for too long, and look at what it leads to. A hidden Imperial Star Destroyer erected in the middle of our once great capital. We need a BETTER approach.
"I need reassurance, Minister, if I am to help you with this crisis."
After all, isn't this what the SIA was established for? To muddle our hand in the mud, to choke the life out of the enemies out of sight, to protect freedom and democracy from those who seek to abuse it? To ensure that the folks of the Alliance can live their life with justice, freedom, and hope guaranteed by the state?
And it seems like the Minister, and behind them the government of the Alliance, agreed with my vision.
"So, one last dance, Director?"
I've walked this street for hours now, familiarising myself with this Metropolis I will call home for the rest of the war, or the rest of my life. There's enough people on the street to hide in plain sight, and there's enough hidden entrances to disappear quickly. All my career I pride myself over the fact that no one can seem to track this phantom known as Strix. A left turn and Strix, the Director, is gone from the street of Fondor, swallowed by the new capital of the Galactic Alliance.
One last dance, it is.
