And to Dust We Shall Return.

lost together

‘So, let me get this straight.’ Said the captain, pressing her fingertips together. ‘The representative your government sent, who I’ve been talking to for the last week, was actually a terrorist?’

‘Not a terrorist captain.’  Hyrodak replied matter of factly. ‘A loyalist.’ 

‘Right…’ the captain leaned back in her chair. In her mind, she considered the purposeful destruction of occupied colonies to be a pretty bad move, whatever the ones responsible called themselves.  However, she also knew that names have a peculiar power of their own. And the right one, if chosen carefully and printed on enough placards, can be a very effective catalyst in the unleaded petrol of political endeavor. 
‘And I take it these loyalists are in disagreement with your decision to join the union?’

‘Regrettably, yes.’ Mathil sighed heavily. He had only been discharged from sickbay that morning, and the dark circles around his eyes made it clear that his recuperation had not been an easy one. ‘Following our defeat at the hands of the shapeshifters, there has been an attitude growing among Gnar that we should return to the glory days of the empire. We were powerful then captain. Crushing those weaker than ourselves, and taking what we wanted from the wreckage left behind. Those days are long gone. But it remains an appealing image, especially in the light of our recent crisis.’ 

‘I see.’ Said the captain. And she did see. In horrible 1080p high definition. It would be easy, preferable even, to write Sjors off as an extremist nutcase. But looking through the cracks, he had behaved in a way that made a worrying amount of sense.
If the Gnar had lost so badly, even aided as they were, by very big guns and a moral compass that seldom pointed north. Then giving up what little control they had left, would place them at a massive disadvantage should another unexpected war break out. anyone who had managed to survive the first one, only to see their people broken and starving, would be understandably skeptical about this, and might...in the name of loyalty...be willing to take drastic measures to correct it.  Looking at it that way, the worst thing about Sjors, wasn’t what he’d done. But that he had believed it was right. 
Because he had done it out of love.

‘But what about you?’ Asked Nim. ‘If Sjors wasn't really from the government what were you doing here?’

‘I was sent to pose as his ally in the hopes I could uncover his plans.’ Replied Mathil. ‘But he must have found out somehow.’ He inclined his head towards clementine, who was standing awkwardly next to Nim, like the perennial wallflower at the school dance. ‘He was lucky this one arrived when she did, as she was the perfect target to frame for…putting me out of the picture...as it were.’

A little ray of hope, unbelieving as a child on hearing that school has been cancelled due to snow. Shone through clementine’s features. ‘Does that mean I’m innocent?’ She asked cautiously. 

Three pairs of eyes all turned to Nim. Who was frowning at the carpet, as if the beige polyblend were a personal insult to her existence.  ‘I might have to drop the charges.’ She said gruffly. But the captain couldn’t help notice a tell-tale smirk beneath her scowl.

Poor clementine on the other hand looked so relieved the captain wondered if she might dissolve right there and then. But as often happens with the socially awkward, her anxiety over that one thing, overrode her anxiety over another. And, in doing so circled round into an odd sort of strength.   ‘Thank you.’ She said softly. Shooting Nim a significant glance. That was new, thought the captain. She wasn’t sure what had happened to the pair of them back in the ducts, but whatever it was, it had certainly improved things.

‘Yeah well, Evidence is evidence.’ Said Nim, her grouchiness now back to its default setting. ‘Just don't go oozing around anymore ventilation shafts ok?’