Phoenix
Prologue
"It is War that defines Us" -Grand Marshal Davis Johanson, First Conference of the Confederation, Morgana 14th, 945 AR
Morse Toten read the quote above his bed numerous times, taking a minute each time to define it in his head. After his alarm went off, he got up, gathered his things, and packed them into his satchel. He gazed up at the quote one last time, before leaving his apartment.
Morse Toten was a terrorist. There's no need to hide this fact, as it will become apparent quite soon. Besides being a terrorist, he was also a student at the University of Sarafin on the planet Tricarn, although his studies had come to a standstill for nearly an entire semester. He was a disturbed young man and always had been since, even when he was very young.
Growing up, Morse had always felt like an outsider. There were numerous scientific explanations as to why this may be. He may have been an outsider because he was an introvert. It may have been due to him not "playing well" with others when he was in preschool. It may have also been due to him being rather unathletic and excelled in academics. It may have been because of the constant teasing and bullying that plagued him through grade school. It possibly was because he spent all his time in his room, surfing the Galanet and playing virtual games. It could have been due to him having absolutely no friends, not because people rejected him, but because he rejected them. However, deep down inside, he knew the exact reason why he was an outsider. It was because he was a Drygona.
The Drygona were a reptilian race, native to the planet of Drygon. Their name is literally translated to be "Children of Dragons", the supreme beings that were believed to govern the universe. Unlike their "lesser" cousins, the Serbantis, Drygonas were taller, had larger heads, and had frills, horns, and warm blood. In a past time, they even had wings, although that was many millennia ago. Out of all the races, they had the richest history.
Thousands of years ago, the Drygonian Republic had conquered all other nations on their planet and united all of Drygon. At this same time, the mystical essence of Ragna was "gifted" by the Dragons to the drygonas as reward for this feat of superiority. The Drygonian Republic used this Ragna to accelerate their technological advancement, thanks to the mystical force being an unlimited, clean, and efficient source of power. Soon, the Drgonian Republic were navigating the stars and settling worlds; however, they soon discovered that were not alone in the galaxy. The drygonas came to find other races, such as the kazers, ruskies and jotnars, who had technology similar to their own and also were utilizing ragna. They also were not friendly. Wars erupted between the Republic and these new races. The republic suffered defeats and fell back. A revolution occurred on Drygon, overthrowing the diplomatic Republic to create a more militant Empire. This new Drygonian Empire pushed back to liberate their former worlds, but still were not powerful enough to fight back against these new races, who had formed an alliance against the drygonas called the Kazertyne Directorate. However, during this time, an Imperial fleet, fleeing from a lost battle, stumbled upon their salvation. They discovered the planet Tricarn, home to the wolf-like Kayans and feline-like Felics, who were engaged in a brutal war with each other. They also had ragna, but using it in the most primitive ways and their technology was medieval at best. The drygonas landed on the planet and amazed both races with their superior technology and united both races together into a new army of warrior born of battle. Finally, the Drygonian Empire had the edge they needed and they were successfully able to push back against the Kazertynes and liberated their lost worlds and more. In two hundred years, the Drygonian Empire conquered the Kazers, the last of the hostile races, and set forth to control the rest of the galaxy. At the same time when the DrygonIan Empire was going to finally achieve its dream and "Manifest Destiny", they faced a new threat: the Kayans and Felics, who had grown tired of being used for war and wanted to be free. Led by the beloved Jorge Joshua, the kayan and felics rebelled and formed a new government, the United Commonwealths, a government founded on Liberty and Honor. Other rebellions followed and tore apart much of the Drygonian Empire. The once proud empire, on the eve of conquering the galaxy, was now a broken nation. A millennia later, a new leader of the Drygonian Empire arose, the most tyrannical and merciless of all the leaders, Dierk Fleischer, although most know him today by another name: The Führer. The Führer united the dwindling empire once more and rapidly militarized it. Within two years, the Drygonian Empire was once more the strongest and largest military in the Asgard Galaxy. In the month of Azazel, on the thirteenth day, the same day that Saint Joshua declared the United Commonwealth independent, the Drygonian Empire struck, attacking all other nations at once. With the nations all divided, the Führer thought none would stand in the way of the Empire. However, he was wrong. After years of fighting and close to defeat, several nations realized that if they were to remain divided, they would all surely fall. Kazertyne, Cocharchi, and United Commonwealth, along with a seceded part of the Empire, united against the Empire and once more, pushed them back. Soon after, the Führer was captured and beheaded. This was not the last battle, though. The remaining Empire forces fled to the star Zabarth, which was towards the Heart of the Galaxy, where a mysterious weapon only known as the Ragnarok was being stored in orbit. An Allied fleet followed the Imperial remnants to this place, ready to destroy the massive weapon. Nothing is known about this battle, except how it ended. The Ragnarok was set off, sending a wave of energy that removed all ragna in the galaxy and rendered all ragna technology useless. This wave moved at hyper-light speeds, reaching the rim of the galaxy in just over five years. With all power and technology gone, billions were stranded on their planets, many suffocating as their terraformed planets' atmosphere deteriorated and all the Galaxy fell into anarchy for the space of centuries. Luckily, the people of the planet Tricarn, knowing the true value of liberty and keeping written records of other forms of energy, rebounded and revived the United Commonwealth within a few decades of the Ragnarok. Due to this technological advantage, the United Commonwealth became a galactic superpower and changed the culture of much of the galaxy, most notably changing the official language of the galaxy from Draconian to Carnelian.
This was the reason why Morse was an outsider. He was a drygona on a United Commonwealth's capital and he hated it. It wasn't like drygonas were rare on the planet or fiercely discriminated against; there were millions of them on Tricarn and, for the most part, racial tensions were something long forgotten. All races were equal in the United Commonwealth, excluding the refugees of nations not part of the Confederation, who were treated as second-class citizens. None of that mattered to Morse. He saw all races inferior to the drygona.
He despised the fact that the once great Drygonian Empire was no more, with the new Drygonian Federation a shell of what it once was. He despised that now the Carnelians, the proper noun to describe both the kayans and felics as a group, were free and not in servitude to the drygonas, who gave them all this great technology and lifestyle they now flaunt openly. They should be thanking their former masters, Morse thought. It was his birthright, as a drygona, that the other races should bow to him. He despised that he had to speak their barbaric tongue in order to get around. He despised his parents, who left the Federation so that they may live here. He despised that he himself was a citizen of the United Commonwealth instead of the Drygonian Federation, like he should have been if his parents hadn't left their home. Most of all, he hated the Confederation and its Coalition, or as he would put it, "Oppression Forces".
The Galactic Alliance Confederation was created 945 years ‘After Ragnarok’, in the aftermath of the Army of the Faceless rebellion, as a meta-government body that regulated trade, responded to intergalactic disputes, and policed crimes outside the authority of a single Nation. The Confederation Treaty was signed by three nations, the United Commonwealth, Drygonian Federation, and the Galvony Kingdom, along with a small fraction of the Kazertyne Directorate that had split off, the Star Station Protectorate, and many single world planetalities. Its military body, the Coalition, was a combined force of all the signing nations' militaries that guarded the First Worlds (primary worlds of the nations, mainly highly urbanized and sophisticated worlds where the majority of the citizens lived) and patrolled along the Mainline (the trade planets and colonies that were priceless to the First Worlds) from the threats coming from Wild Space (areas of the galaxy that had no formal law or ownership from any nation. Most are former colonies of the other nations) and other nations not part of the Confederation.
The problem Morse had with the Confederation was that it was a bureaucratic mess, like most democratic organizations. The Council, the governing body of the Confederation, was mired in constant indecision and could barely manage anything. It also didn't help that they also had little to no power thanks to intentional limitations to power by the Confederation Treaty. The Confederation did not govern its member nations, just the area between them and intergalactic disputes. The Confederation could not interfere with the affairs of individual governments nor could they impose additional taxes from the nations. Instead, the Confederation relied on trade tariffs, financial support from the UC and the Drygonian Federation, and "generous" private donations, which made up nearly twenty-five percent of the Confederation's income. Due to the last financier, the Council was rather corrupt as well, swayed by private interest from corporations. Even worse, the way the Confederation made decisions made it extremely difficult to pass proposals and laws. The Council needed a two-thirds majority vote for a proposal to pass and rarely did a proposal get even one-half of the votes needed to pass. This process gained public scrutiny when the planet Carnifuge was under attack by a radical rebel group for three entire months before the Confederation decided to send its forces to respond to the threat. Of course, their votes had little to do with the welfare of the people, but to appease their corporate masters. They used their one strong power they had, the Coalition, the most advanced and powerful military force currently in the galaxy, to secure precious resources for corporations while neglecting to help out the many suffering planets outside of the Coalition's so-called jurisdiction. These same planets were the same ones that seceded from their former nations after they completely ignored their colonies’ need for supplies and welfare, then rallied and rebelled together as the Army of the Faceless in a futile attempt at revenge. It angered Morse to no end that the First Worlds were living in a state of near constant luxury while millions in Wild Space were living in near impoverished conditions. Morse wanted nothing more than to spread the wealth and prosperity of the First Worlds to the struggling worlds in Wild Space.
To Morse, democracy was greatly flawed and had failed entirely. Democracy was a terrible and inefficient system of government suffocating in bureaucracy and indecision. What the Galaxy needed right now, more than anything, was for an intelligent, decisive leader to arise, take control, and create new, stronger government for the People and send the galaxy into another golden age, like the one that occurred during the Drygonian Empire. The logic made perfect sense to him; the democratic Drygonian Republic lasted a mere five hundred years and was nearly destroyed by the Kazertynes, while the strong Drygonian Empire lasted five times longer and nearly conquered the entire galaxy. Democracy allowed chaos to become common; a totalitarian government strived for order. A strong government was a good government, one that protected the People from all threats, one that would solve disputes so the People did not have to do it themselves, one that provided the welfare and care the People needed, one that could not be bought out by the interests of private, greedy corporations, and one the People would fully endorse. It was the duty of Man to serve their government, so that their government could serve them.
This philosophy didn't even occur to Morse until he attended college. He was halfway through his first semester when he wrote a compare-and-contrast paper between the Empire and Coalition, which ended up very pro Empire, for his midterm exam. This caught the eye of his humanities professor, who asked Morse to stay after class. The professor asked Morse several questions about his beliefs and thoughts on the galaxy and Morse answered honestly. The professor then handed him a flyer for an evening meeting of like-minded people called the "Schuler Liga von Reich Forscher"
Morse followed the directions on the flyer and was shocked by what he found. There were nearly one hundred or so fellow students all here, mingling and conversing with each other. Many of them were drygona but there was also a fair amount of the other races here as well, which annoyed Morse almost to the point where he left. Still, his curiosity kept him captivated. The room was cavernous, the reason being is because it was an ancient ruin from the Imperial Era, buried under the modern university. The room was as dark as a dungeon, lit only by several fire pyres, giving the entire room an invigorating feel. Around the walls were hung large black banners with a single red hand spread open. He took five steps into the room before a group of fellow students greeted him, and began to find out more about him. This was all new to him. For the first time in his life, he felt welcomed and appreciated.
After an hour of conversing, dancing, drinking, and just all around having a good time, everyone gathered around a stage. On top of it, at the podium, was Morse's professor, dressed in white robes and a hood! He spoke fervently to the crowd of young students and scholars, "Good evening, compatriots! You have been gathered here tonight because you all share the same interest: a profound knowledge and respect for our once great Empire that ruled the galaxy nearly a millennia ago. You also share the same disgust and hatred for the travesty our ‘great’ Confederation has become. They do not serve us; the Majority! They serve their master Corporations; the entitled Few! Still, the citizens of the Coalition go about their lives, ignoring this injustice, manipulated by the very government meant to protect them! They believe that they are safe in their cozy First Worlds, protected by the almighty Coalition. They do not know the hardships that are occurring outside the borders of the Confederation, where millions are starving and just struggling to survive. Our brothers and sisters in Wild Space do not know the definition of ‘luxury.’ The only luxury they know is life! The Confederation does nothing to help them. They only care about the interests of their sponsors. Do not worry, though. The days of the Confederation are numbered. A new leader has arisen who wishes to free us from the corrupted Confederation and retake the throne to bring the Empire back to its former glory. You, of course, have probably already heard these rumors. You've seen the news about the Carnifuge conflict. Swarms of terrorists, murdering innocent people and bombing cities. They call themselves the ‘Hand of Cathorn’, an opposition force to the Coalition, led by a mysterious being known only as ‘Cathorn’. Now, what if I were to tell you it's all a big, huge lie! The Hand of Cathorn are not terrorists! They are patriots, fighting for our freedom! They only attacked the false kings, the thanes of the Clans, because they fought for the one, true King: Cathorn! They never killed a single innocent life, nor bombed any civilian facility! Those are Confederation lies! In fact, those atrocities that they blamed on the Hand of Cathorn were in fact done by the Coalition themselves. They are willing to kill their own citizens to just to push their own agenda on the People! Do not believe their propaganda! Do not let them brainwash you! The Confederation is attempting to destroy our creditability because they know we are their greatest threat. Our numbers are in the tens of millions, yet we blend in perfectly with the citizenry. No matter how hard they search, they cannot possibly distinguish us from their own citizens. We only want to bring peace to the Galaxy, but we must engage in war to achieve it!
The entire crowd placed their right hand over their hearts and repeated the line back.
That speech changed Morse's life forever. His eyes were opened wide and he became aware of the entire galaxy. It gave his life all new meaning and finally made him feel accepted. From this point on, he was devoted to Cathorn's cause and was now impervious to any form of manipulation or propaganda.
Now firmly devoted to Cathorn's cause, he spent almost every waking moment promoting the cause. He helped bring scores of people into the Hand of Cathorn, who in turn brought in scores of their own. Morse rose up the ranks of the local branch of the Hand of Cathorn very quickly, becoming one of the Professor's trusted lieutenants by the end of the semester. During the next semester, he was given more responsibility as a community organizer, setting up social protests and anti-confederation events. It was during one of these events that he met the girl who would become his mate. During the middle of his second semester, he attended a month-long expedition trip to several settled planets in Wild Space, and got to see the struggles of the people on these planets firsthand. To him, the fact that the Confederation was helping these poor souls only proved to him that the Confederation was the most evil force in the entire galaxy. He returned to Tricarn to finish his studies for the semester and give his professor news about the new developments there. However, he found out that his professor was taken into custody and arrested after a large sting operation by UC federal investigators, with assistance by Coalition Peacekeepers. Morse, having only joined the Hand of Cathorn six months before, was now third in command of the Sarafin branch. His new responsibility kept him busy, having to travel across the planet constantly to coordinate with the other branches, giving him very little time to focus on his summer semester and his mate. Still, he couldn't be happier. He was paving the way for the Great Cathorn, after all. By the time autumn semester came, he decided to put all his attention to the Hand of Cathorn and his growing family. He would not need a degree for his new career. However, in the tenth month of the year, Kathsulu, an emergency meeting was held for the leadership of the branches within the Confederation, held on the planet Koleb, the "capital" of the Confederation. It was during this meeting that the leaders of the branches met several undercover agents of the main Hand of Cathorn command, where they relayed Cathorn's new initiative to the branch leaders. There was no discussion or debate about it. All of the leaders agreed and obeyed, promising to bring back this information back to their compatriots at home. The final days of the Confederation were about to be unfolded.
It is War that defines us. Morse pondered the phrase again in his head, before leaving his apartment building out into the cold, winter air.
It was the year 995, After Ragnarok, the twelfth day of the thirteenth month, Azazel, known in the United Commonwealth as "Saint's Eve", the day before Saint's Day, the most celebrated holiday in the nation. The holiday celebrated Saint Jorge Joshua, the man who orchestrated the rebellion and led them to the liberation of the United Commonwealth, which occurred on this day. While it started out simple enough with parents making gifts for their children, symbolizing Saint Joshua giving the gift of Freedom to the citizen of United Commonwealth, the holiday had become a marketing monstrosity and over commercialized. It was the biggest spending season of the entire year and the corporations took full advantage of it. Huge sales, nonstop commercials, sweepstakes, brand wars, and force of tradition persuaded many shoppers to waste much of their savings on material things. Understandably, this was Morse's least favorite time of the year, combining everything he hated about the galaxy.
Snow crunched under his shoes as he made his walk to the metro station several blocks away. A stiff wind picked up and Morse groaned in annoyance, raising the collar of his thick jacket. Although he was warm blooded, he, along with most drygona, hated winter. This was entirely due to having scales, not insulating hair or fur, like the native kayans and felics. During the Commonwealth Rebellion, the Carnelians took full advantage of this biological setback by attacking the occupying drygona in winter. It was also why they declared independence in the winter, because the Carnelians knew the drygonas would be hesitant to send a counterattack in the midst of a clear disadvantage. When the Empire sent in reinforcements during the spring of the next year, the newly founded United Commonwealth was ready for them.
Morse kept walking down at a steady pace down the sidewalk, despite the cold wind. If it wasn't for him focusing on the objective at hand, Morse probably would have remarked about how nice of a day it was. It wasn't overly snowing and the wind wasn't too heavy. The sun warmed the area enough to not make it frigid without melting all the new snow. Everything seemed peaceful and tranquil, and many people were taking advantage of the weather by spending lots of time outside. It was a nearly a perfect Saint's Eve.
Suddenly, a chunk of ice and snow smacked Morse in the side of the head. Morse's instant fury nearly melted the snow debris off his clothes. He turned his head to see a group of frat boys having a snowball fight, complete with sculpted snow forts and a snowman holding a forty ounce bottle.
"Hey, dude! Merry Liberation!" One of the frat boys yelled over to Morse, using the alternative name for the day.
Morse turned his head back to face where he was walking. He wasn't going to acknowledge the sophomoric idiots. Bah humbug, he thought to himself.
A short while later, Morse entered the station, payed his toll, and got onto one of the railcars, which went into the city down the hillside. He did respect that the interior of the cart was clean and maintained. He had been on many that were scrawled with graffiti and had less-than-savory people riding with him. After a "short" trip of forty-five minutes, he got off at the Freyas Home Station, right in the heart of the city Sarafin.
As soon as he left the station, he heard a rumble in the air. He looked up high to see five jet fighters fly by on their routine patrols around the city. There was also a large airship looming overhead at about four miles above the city. Morse then turned his attention to the rest of the city.
Sarafin was not the largest city on Tricarn by any measure, but still had a population of around fifteen million people. Historically, it was an immensely important city, built on the mouth of the Rouge River, which went deep into the continent of Strashenge, the northernmost continent in the northwestern hemisphere of Tricarn. During the Kayan-Felic Wars, the city changed hands constantly and the saying "He who held Sarafin, controlled Strashenge" was made to reflect the importance of this valuable city. In modern times, Sarafin stationed two large fleets, one air and the other nautical. It also was home of one of the five space elevators on Tricarn, colossal towers that extended all the way to the outer atmosphere, where it was attached to an orbital station, where star freighters would dock and send freight and supplies down to the planet. The space elevator was not the only humongous building in Sarafin. Skyscrapers, some as high as three kilometers, breached the clouds above. The average building in the city was over one thousand feet high, all staples of the corporate complex of our modern society. Companies competed for having the highest buildings in the cities, a competition Morse deduced was nothing more than compensation for the executives' phallic insecurities.
Normally, the glass-gilded skyscrapers were very scenic during most of the year. However, it being winter, where everything was gray and white, the windows just reflected the lack of scenery, making buildings seem dull and boring. To make up for this during the holiday season, many businesses draped red, white, and blue banners down the sides of the buildings, and made use of eye-catching lights of many different colors, some even having festive flashing patterns. Patriotic music was also used to attract people into stores, along with street acts sponsored by businesses in order to bring the crowds in to patronize their shops. In almost every lobby of a skyscraper stood a large pine tree dressed with ornaments, lights, and tinsel.
The streets and sidewalk, of course, were super busy. It was the last day before Saint's Day and long lines of anxious shoppers waited outside businesses. There was a large traffic jam in the avenues as more shoppers searched for available parking. Carolers serenaded them, singing hymns and festive songs of the history of the Rebellion and the United Commonwealth. Morse struggled to maneuver his way through the bustling crowds, all without saying a word. Occasionally on the way to his destination, he would be shouldered or shoved from someone thinking he was cutting them off or waiting for Morse to ask permission to pass them. Morse could care less. He knew there would be karma for their acts soon. As he moved forward, he encountered several men dressed as Uncle Bart (short for Bartholomew Frankel, one of the founding fathers of the UC), who was shaking a bell with a large tin pail next to him. He was asking donations for local homeless shelters, foods, and programs that would retrain the homeless to have sustainable careers. He would simply pass them by, as he knew they had no true charity in their hearts. If they did, they would put the money forth to help the struggling worlds outside the Confederation. Charity, in general, was flawed. It was not true activism. If people really wanted to solve the galaxy's problems, they would need to balance the wealth entirely, so that all people were truly equal.
Morse came upon another Uncle Bart, but this one engaged him personally.
"Hey there, sir! I'm gathering donations for the battered womens’ shelter on Marborath Ave. We need your donation. Every credit counts!" The donation ringer said, with a very sweet and caring face.
Morse walked back to him, nearly ignoring him completely, but as he passed by, he had his eyes focused on the donation ringer.
"Sir! Please! These women are struggling! They need your help. Please, sir. Sir! Sir?" The donation ringer pleaded to Morse, then looked down at the cold ground when he knew it was futile. He then prayed for a blessing to soften Morse's heart.
Morse smirked from the schadenfreude, the joy of causing emotional pain. Naive fool! He didn't even realize it was the Confederation's own corporate system that has caused all these people to be homeless. He is just a slave to the capitalist machine. Morse thought these things as he continued walking.
Morse continued weaving his way through the crowds for nearly an hour, until he finally reached his location: the Jarl of Presha National Mall. The mall was one of the largest in the UC, with a total of six and a half million square feet of floor area and had seven hundred stores inside. It was the epitome of the corporate hegemony, all that was wrong and evil in the galaxy.
There was a sudden explosion on the sidewalk in front of him. He whipped his head around to see where it came from. About one hundred feet in front of him, there was a big box, around two feet in width and length and three feet high, sparkling several different colored sparks while shooting up several rockets into the air, exploding about thirty feet in the air. It took Morse a moment to realize it was a box of fireworks, set up and lit by a group of kids, who were dancing underneath the streams of colors. It didn’t take long for a police officer to confront them.
"Eh! Put that thing out! Now”! The officer shouted at the kids.
"We can't. It's almost done. I promise!" One of the kids spoke up. Sure enough, the box was spent fifteen seconds later.
"Okay everyone. That is enough. Give me all your fireworks." The officer ordered.
The kids looked at each other, then one by one they gave the rest of the fireworks to the officer. "Sorry, sir. We were being careful. We didn’t mean to hurt anyone." Another child said.
"I understand. But you need to learn to be responsible! You can't just light a box of fireworks in the middle of a street, especially on a day as busy as today! And you certainly shouldn't be playing in the fumes as well! You could really hurt yourselves." The police officer scolded them sternly, then slowly smiled, "Besides, you shouldn't be firing off fireworks during the day. They are meant to be used at night, silly boys!"
"Sorry sir. It won't happen again." A third kid said, his head down in shame.
"I'll tell you what. Do you guys promise to be responsible and safe? Can you be patient?" The officer asked kindly.
The kids nodded back.
The officer handed back the fireworks to the kids. "Good. Then use these responsibly. If I catch any of you lighting them again during the day, you won't get a second chance." The officer said, looking each child in the eye. "Merry Saint's Day”!
What an idiot, Morse thought. You can't just let kids handle fireworks! They weren't responsible enough to handle them safely. They're going to blow their hands off! If he was that officer, he would have confiscated the fireworks and taken the kids down to the precinct, made them call their parents, and fine the parents for reckless endangerment.
Morse kept walking, watching the kids disappear into an alley behind the building. The officer then turned and spoke to Morse.
"Can I help you with something, sir?" The officer asked honestly.
Anxiety suddenly rose up in Morse's body. Act normal, he thought. Act normal! "Umm... uhh...errr...um…" was the only thing he could say.
The police officer's eyes narrowed in concern. His right hand went down to his utility belt, close to his side arm, "Is something wrong? Are you in trouble? Take a breath and speak normally." The officer asked calmly.
Morse was beginning to panic. He's on to me! No, he's not. Calm down, he reasoned to himself. "Uhh... no. I'm cold. Really cold”! Morse said all at once.
The officer nodded, "Okay. Why don't you go into the Pedquod up the street and get a nice hot coffee to warm yourself up." The officer offered, pointing Morse in the right direction.
"Umm...okay. Thank you." Morse said quickly and shuffled quickly towards the coffee shop.
He checked his watch. It was 12:45, fifteen minutes to noon. He was running right on time, so he would have to be quick inside Pedquod. He entered the corner coffee shop. Almost instantly, the aromas of grounded coffee beans and fresh brews overcame his senses. The shop itself was very arty and causal, with wood accents on the floor and walls with usage of browns and grays, low lights, and several abstract pictures on the walls. A mellow song from a local band was playing softly over the speakers in the shop. This was all keeping in the theme of the hipster culture that use to frequent the coffee shops before Pedquod went forward with its aggressive store-on-every-damn-street-corner campaign.
Morse walked to the front counter, surprised that there wasn't a long line. A young, tawny, felic girl was at the register, braces still on her teeth as she smiled at Morse, "Merry Saint's Day, sir." She greeted sweetly.
"I'm a Draconian." Morse responded with hostility. In reality, he had given up being a draconian a long time ago. Draconism was the religion of the Thirteen Dragons, the ones that governed the universe. Each month was named after a dragon and all draconians were to pay tribute to the patron dragon of the month. It was the dominant religion of most of the galaxy, although not so much in the United Commonwealth, where the most prominent religion was Patriotism. Although still technically part of Draconism, in that followers still believe in the dragons, the main beliefs were the voluntary worship of the founding fathers of the United Commonwealth who brought freedom to the galaxy. Many people focused on worshipping Saint Joshua, who is often called the great Liberator, Father of Freedom, and Dragon Slayer. To Morse, he was nothing more than a rebellious punk; one who disobeyed authority rather than bow his head in service to the Kaiser, The Traitor to the Empire. Of course, both Draconism and Patriotism meant little to him. His only Deity was Cathorn.
The girl at the cashier was slightly taken back and apologized. "I'm sorry, Sir. 'Merry Azazel'."
"Glory to Azazel." Morse corrected under his breath.
"Y'know, Saphira is my patron Dragon." The girl tried get on common ground with Morse.
"Can I just get a small cappuccino?" Morse said impatiently.
"Uhh, yes sir. That will be six credits and fifty-four cents." The girl replied, downtrodden.
Morse swiped his debit card down the card slot and authorized the purchase.
"Can I get your name?" The girl asked, with a pen in one hand and the coffee cup in another.
Morse sighed. This was taking too long. "It's Morse."
"Norse?" The girl repeated back.
"No, Morse." Morse said louder and enunciating.
"Oh, okay." The girl said and filled the cup with cappuccino, then put a lid on top. She then handed the cup to Morse, and then pointed with her eyes to the tip jar on the counter. Morse just turned around and left Pedquod.
Morse crossed the street over to the Jarl of Preshia Mall. He took a sip of his cappuccino and was pleasantly surprised at how good it was. He then looked at the cup itself. "Moorse" he read the name written on the cup to himself. He then took another sip as he entered the doors of the mall.
The mall was even more festive than the entire city outside. A whole choir met him as he entered through the door singing angelic music. Holiday sale signs were everywhere Morse looked. Holly and colorful lights outlined storefronts and the walkways on the next floor. There was even a faux snow pile where a large group of children were playing. However, what caught his attention was a kayan also dressed in a long coat. Morse went passed him. The kayan nodded to Morse. Morse nodded back.
As he made his way through the mall, he saw other similarly dressed people. Each one would nod at Morse, to which he would nod back.
Anticipation and excitement grew in his body. As he passed by the many stores, he began to look into them, growing more curious about what was being sold in each shop. The shops sold many high-end luxuries, mainly clothes, but also cutting-edge electronics, newly-released books and music, and lifestyle items. All these things were very expensive; things many people wanted, but few could afford. His paced slowly as he watched an action movie clip featuring coalition soldiers fighting in a forest battlefield. He then shook his head rapidly to get his head back in the mission. He could not be distracted by the propaganda of the Confederation.
He kept walking to the destination, although he began to think he was lost because he couldn't find where his destination was. He tried looking at the mall map, but he had trouble reading it properly. Abruptly, a woman dropped her bag, the contents spilling out near Morse's feet. Morse got down and helped the woman place the things back into the bag. Morse also noticed she had a small girl with her.
"Oh, thanks. It means a lot, sir." The woman said, nudging her child.
" Thank you, mister." The small girl replied, looking wide-eyed.
Morse faked a smile, "You're very welcome. You guys seem to be in a rush. Where are you headed?" Morse led them.
"Oh, little Morgana here is going to get to see Saint Joshua." The woman said with a wink. The girl grinned.
"What a funny coincidence. I'm supposed to see my sister and brother-in-law there with my niece. However, I'm having trouble finding where that is." Morse lied.
"You can follow us. I know where we're going." The woman offered, just as Morse had hoped.
"Sounds good" Morse had concluded.
Morse followed the woman and her daughter to their left side. Along the way, the woman broke the silence. "I'm Gwenleigh” she said extending her hand.
"Leoth" Morse replied and shook her hand, using his alias.
"Don't you just love this season? It just feels so magical. Everyone's in a better mood."
"Yeah, it's my favorite time of the year." Morse lied. "So what do you do in life?"
"Oh, me? I'm just a stay-at-home mom. My mate works as a marketing consultant at Millennium Block Cable and Networking."
"Interesting" Morse said. A corporate pawn.
"I'm an... Economic Major about to get my Bachelors next semester," He fibbed.
"That's neat. So are you visiting your sister from out of town?"
"What?" Morse questioned. Then realized what she meant. "Oh, I'm from the University on the hill."
"Oh you are? I just thought you were out of town because you don't know your way around the mall here. Have you not been here before?"
"No, ya know, student budget and all that. Can't afford to go here."
"Okay. So what's your niece's name?" Gwenleigh asked.
"Oh, her name's...Morsina." Morse let out.
"Aww, that's a cute name. Hey, look we're here. Okay Morgana, remember to stay with Mommy in line,"Gwenleigh announced.
Right in front of Morse were hundreds of kids and parents all in a large, circular line waiting to see "Saint Joshua,” who was under a huge, triangular pine tree. The tree must have been at least eighty feet high and was decorated with thousands of ornaments, tens of thousands of lights, and had red, white, and blue tinsel wrapped around it. The rotunda was divided by a vibrant red velvet rope which wrapped around the rotunda. There was also a balcony with an escalator on either side that overlooked the scene of excited children waiting to meet Saint Joshua.
As Gwenleigh and Morgana walked away to get in line, Morse walked towards the red velvet dividing rope to get a better look. From Morse's quick estimate, there must have been at least five hundred children in line to get their picture taken. The wait alone was already two hours. Morse could see the man dressed as Saint Joshua in the back, sitting in a big, red throne with the United Commonwealth's flag behind him as a backdrop. This impersonator was a kayan, even though no one knew what race Saint Joshua actually was. Surprisingly, despite all the past racial tensions and prejudices the kayans and felics had towards each other, debates over what was Saint Joshua's race were rare. The impersonator was dressed in a long white robe with a red sash across his body. He also had a full beard. The reason all these children were here was because, by legend, Saint Joshua adored children and taught that they were both innocent and beings of true freedom.
What bothered Morse the most about Jorge Joshua was his title of "Saint" because he knew it was a lie. Historically, the title of "Saint" was reserved for devout followers of the Dragons, who had become enlightened. Jorge Joshua's title was a mockery of this. Jorge Joshua came out of nowhere during the height of the Drygonian Empire, when he challenged the authority of the governor of Tricarn. The most famous of these pre-war protests occurred when during the conclusion of a televised speech by the kaiser at the time, when everyone bowed down to him, Joshua did not: a single man in a field of thousands. Guards were sent to capture and kill him, but he evaded arrest. He then organized an underground movement to overthrow the planetary government, with co-conspirators Bartholomew Frankel, Thomly Adoms, and Beck Carlain. In the month of Tyrath, the beginning of winter, Joshua led an armed rebellion when a battalion of the Drygonian 26th Guard Division sought to seize an armory filled with weapons. This audacious attack was overwhelmingly victorious, and inspired many others on the planet to rebel. Joshua organized millions of rag tag soldiers to ready themselves for the coming counterattack in spring. When the Empire attacked, Joshua met them with his army, on the frontlines, rather than far from the field of battle like most generals. Later in the war, Joshua became even more audacious, wearing the flag of the Commonwealth, which he designed, on his back so the imperial forces could better identify him. During the seven-year war of liberation, Joshua never lost a battle under his command. In the aftermath of the Rebellion, the people wanted to declare Joshua their king. Joshua swiftly declined saying, "we did not overthrow one Tyrant so that we may raise another to occupy his space!" Instead, Joshua proposed the creation of a democracy, where the government would never have power over the People. Now christened a saint, Joshua spent the rest of his days as a humble being, wandering the worlds, helping out wherever he was and being the Grand Judge to the United Commonwealth, looking over the laws passed by parliament and declaring them constitutional or unconstitutional based on whether they obstructed freedom or not. Then, just as mysteriously as he came, he disappeared, flying out to unknown sectors of the Asgard Galaxy. To Morse, there was nothing "Saintly" about him. All he wanted to do was attract attention to himself. There was nothing humble or honorable about him.
Suddenly, Morse's alarm went off. It was thirteen o'clock. It was noon. It was time.
A large boom was heard down one wing of the mall. Several parents turned their heads in confusion.
"What was that?" One mother said.
"I think those were fireworks." Another mom inferred.
"Inside the mall?” a dad asked suspiciously.
A second boom went off down another wing, followed by screams.
Morse closed his eyes. 'It is War that defines us'. He pondered the quote again in his mind. He was at war with the United Commonwealth. He was at war with the Confederation. He was at war with the corporate hegemony and everything that was opposed to Cathorn. He thought about his mate, then his young son and his second child on the way. He had to fight this war for them, to free the next generation from the Confederation's tyranny. He also had to stop the next generation in front of him, the ones that had already become brainwashed, from growing up to serve their masters. Morse was the true patriot sacrificing his life for the ones he loved most.
"Zerstörung der Feinde des Kathorn! (Destruction to the Enemies of Cathorn!)" he screamed at the top of his lungs, before flipping the switch on his vest under his coat and detonated himself.
