Sebastian Morgan walked into an auditorium filled with humans of all races.

“Everybody settling in?” he asked, his voice amplified by the room’s speakers, “Pretty nice, huh?”

The room was filled with laughter.

“This cruise ship will be your new home for the foreseeable future,” he said. “Here you will be safe, provided for, and very very comfortable. However, for every privilege there is a price. You my little songbirds, will have to sing for your supper.”

He paused to let the (mostly) good natured groans to subside.

“We are at war,” he said in a serious tone. “In war, battles are won by guns and ships. War, however,” he said a wicked smile, “is won by breaking your opponent’s will to fight! That, my friends, is where we come in. Those of us in media, in the arts, music… even fashion and design… we have a weapon every bit as powerful as a gun or a warship. We can directly strike our opponent’s will while we protect and sustain the will of our own people!”

He started to pace.

“THAT is our job! THAT is our mission! THAT is our duty to that most holy of all things, the survival of our people! Their ships and their guns will give our fellow man might. WE will give them strength!”

He turned to face the crowd.

“When this disaster befell us I’m sure many of you felt completely powerless, as I did,” he said meekly. “I asked myself, ‘I’m just an artist. What can I do? I’m weak… helpless... How can I do anything? They are killing each other in the streets. What am I going to do? What can someone as weak and powerless as myself possibly hope to accomplish?’”

He pointed at the crowd.

“We are not weak! We are POWERFUL. We don’t hold a rifle in your hands. We don’t captain a warship. We are a FUCKING NUKE and together we will shake this Federation to it’s very soul!”

He smiled as the room filled with cheers. This felt… right. This is what he was created for! This is what he was born to do!

“Propaganda is a dirty word to many,” he said. “and maybe it should be. Propaganda kills. It’s a weapon every bit as deadly as a sword, or a rifle… or a nuke. It is, however, OUR weapon and we will wield it! We will cut at the very heart of our foe with our words, our songs, our videos… even our pictures. Our words will give our people strength during the dark days ahead. Our words will determine the ‘truth’ and the ‘history’ of our fight. Our words will define us… If we do our jobs right.”

He pulled out a tablet.

“So let’s roll up our sleeves and get started. We have no time to lose.”

Sebastian tapped the tablet the Confederacy of Sol appeared behind him.

“This, as many of you already know,” he said, “Is the flag of the Confederacy of Sol. It represents the confederacy of great clans, lead by my grandmother, Jessica Morgan, during the final days of the Sol Wars. That same confederacy forms the backbone of the forces that stand with us today. However, it has been decided that this symbol and this name are no longer relevant. We no longer fight for Sol. We don’t even care about it. We fight for our very survival!”

He paused and then grinned.

“It is also felt that using this standard and this name and this image will imperil our continued weapons and supply shipments from the Republic and the Empire. It’s a miracle that we are getting anything out of them but if we show up with this on our ships…”

The room filled with chuckles.

“Exactly,” Sebastian laughed. “We need to rebrand ourselves… and we need to do it fast! In just over twenty-four hours the hammer is going to fall. We will strike our first serious blow against the Federation. We need a new name and a new flag now!”

He looked across the sea of faces.

“You have all already been assigned this task,” he said. “Team leaders, what have you come up with?”

A man stood and cleared his throat.

“We at Raylesh Public Relations LLC propose...” he said as an image of a sword inlaid with a double helix appeared, “The Confederacy of Man!” he exclaimed proudly. “It’s direct. It’s visceral...”

“And it’s been done!” an anonymous voice shouted from the back. “Play with miniatures much?” the voice asked scornfully as laughter broke out.

“Hey! Cut that out!” Sebastian chided. “This is a creative space and we should provide a supportive and nurturing atmosphere. At the very least we need the basics of decorum… But...” Sebastian winced, “Yeah… We can’t use that. Next!”

“How about the Human Alliance!” A young woman piped up. “Sorry, Multimedia team B here,” she said sheepishly. “Nobody is using the term ‘alliance’ right now!”

“Interesting,” Sebastian mused. “Where is the flag?”

“Um… we don’t have one yet?” the woman cringed. “We have it narrowed down to-”

“Right,” Sebastian said cutting her off. “The name’s interesting and you are right, nobody is using ‘alliance’.”

The next group rose and presented their idea, and then the next... and the next… Everybody from artists, to musicians to fashion designers all pitched their names and concepts.

Sebastian dutifully took them all down as he frowned. Nothing was really doing it.

Finally, Bella stood up.

“Bella?” Sebastian asked in surprise. “Are you leading a team?”

“Not officially,” she said with a little embarrassment. “But a few us us, my friends and I, were playing around with this and I think we have something.”

“Well go ahead,” he said somewhat indulgently. She was his niece after all. He would have to have a stern talk with her after this, though.

“Ok,” she said nervously, ignoring the glares from her actual boss, “We got to talking and we think this whole ‘Man’ and ‘Humanity’ thing might be too constraining. I mean, did you read about where that Terran hacker team hit? Those Kaarst? They are assholes! What they do to their people… it’s just wrong. Then there were the Z’uush before that. Who else is out there? Who else has been screwed over, stepped on, ignored, left to die… We need to think about expanding our subscribers! Right now it’s just our party but maybe we want to invite the guys from the other dorm? That’s when the party really starts rockin’!”

“Interesting!” Sebastian exclaimed as mutters broke out in the auditorium.

“’K!” she said breathlessly. “So what do we all have in common? We were shafted by the Feds… Forsaken by them! We are the Forsaken!”

The room broke out into excited murmurs.

“And where do we have to go?” she asked. “Nowhere! We have nowhere to go!… Except to our old home, our mother, lover, killer, and devourer… The Void!” she exclaimed as a stylized hyperspace flare on a black background appeared. “And what do we have to offer? Chaos!” an eight-rayed symbol of chaos appeared in the middle of the flare, “And destruction!” A sword appeared running down the middle of both. “We will take on this galaxy and fucking carve out a place in it!… And we will bring chaos and death upon those who stand against us, all of us!”

She paused for breath.

“This could be the beginning of not just a new day for humanity but for others as well! More ships! More guns! More… Forsaken… We got to thinking… This could be the start of something huge… If we wanted it to be!”

Sebastian just looked at her in shock.

“Well...” he said after a few moments. “Your informal team? It’s official now. If any of them aren’t on this ship get them here right now!”

“We have a problem with the flag,” someone called from the crowd. “It looks too much like the Black Angels’ emblem!”

There was a chorus of assent.

“Ok,” Bella said, “We ditch the sword but we need something… Ooo! What about the Eyes of Azathoth as the background! It ties into the whole Void and chaos theme and is part of our shared cultural heritage. It will be a nice religious kick that all ethnic groups should accept! We can add new eyes whenever another species signs up as a way to welcome them, too!”

“Damn, girl,” her former boss muttered as the crowd broke out in an excited cacophony, everyone talking about what they just heard.

Sebastian waited patiently as everyone settled down.

“I have everyone’s submissions and will present them to The Devil immediately but I think we all know what we are going with. Thank you all for your time and I shall leave you to your individual projects. Void inspire you!”

***

“Yes, we did recommend containment over research,” Director Gvx-Taa, director of Federation Intelligence said to the council. “And, yes, we did state that the loss of the entire human race in the Federation was an acceptable loss, should it come to that,” he buzzed angrily. “However,” he buzzed, spitting into his trusty bucket, “at NO TIME did we ever say that the extinction of the humans was a ‘plus’. We NEVER laughed about their plight. We also advocated CONTAINMENT, not whatever you want to call the joke of a response that was implemented. A response that was demonstrably intentional and meant to allow the maximum amount-”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“That is ridiculous and clearly an attempt to deflect blame from where it should firmly lie!” Councilor Rexxidough, head of the Federation Health Council, shouted.

“Really?” Gvx-Taa asked, “Shall I play the tapes again, the tapes that are playing on a loop at all hours across the entire Federation? Shall I play the tapes where we presented this grim option? Shall we compare them?” Gvx-Taa said with a sneering click. “And to answer the next flaccid question, we did not lay out the details of the medical response because that isn’t our job. An appropriate response was your responsibility and the responsibility of the Federation Emergency Response Council. The only mistake we committed was to make the naive assumption that you actually felt an obligation to do your jobs!”

“We are doing our jobs!” Councilor Rexxidough shouted.

“Oh?” Gvx-Taa sneered, “Where are the scanners? Where are the medical personnel? Where is the research plan for the development of a vaccine, something that even we soulless killers as you have called us advocated.”

“Those plans are in place!” the councilor yelled.

“Yes, they are now,” Gvx-Taa replied. “However, the vaccine initiative only was issued after this shameful and intentional failure was brought to light. The timestamps are falsified and I can prove it. Even so, the failure to send medical personnel and scanners-”

“We can’t risk the lives of our people until security-”

“Yes, now,” Gvx-Taa clicked. “But if you had actually performed your duties rather than indulge in your own hate safety wouldn’t be a concern, would it?”

Councilor Rexxidough just spluttered in reply.

“In the interests of transparency,” Gvx-Taa buzzed, “we have, using the powers granted us under the Federation State of Emergency Protocols, initiated a criminal investigation concerning matters involving this whole incident specifically investments made by members of the relevant councils and other-”

“That is abusing your charter!” Councilor Rexxidough screamed. “We will not stand for-”

“And we will,” Gvx-Taa continued shouting over him, “in the interests of restoring stability, release the results to the public as allowable under those same protocols. I wonder how your voters will respond, Councilor.”

“I call for the immediate arrest of-” the councilor started to scream before his mic was cut off.

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” the Prime Minister said calmly. “You have made your point, Director. As is MY prerogative under those same protocols I am ordering you to cease your investigation and hand all of your current findings to the Council of Justice where they will continue your fine work.

Gvx-Taa buzzed angrily and spat into his bucket.

“I assume you brought your investigation up for a purpose,” the Prime Minister continued. “What actions do you wish to attempt to force us to undertake?”

“Follow Jessica Morgan’s advice,” Gvx-Taa replied calmly. “It’s the only way to restore stability before the humans undertake an armed rebellion.”

“I will ignore the fact that you are so well informed concerning a private discussion between myself and Ms. Morgan,” the Prime Minister said calmly. “However, as I already told her we simply cannot allow the Federation to cave in to the demands of a violent armed rabble of which Jessica Morgan is clearly now a member. The Federation does not kneel to threats. It does not deal with terrorists. We have an entire Federation of hundreds of worlds to manage. If we cater to the humans we send a strong signal, the wrong signal, to countless malcontents across our entire Federation. This, we cannot allow. As your own department has observed, the humans are a minor population of little consequence as far as the bigger picture is concerned. We have no option other than to crush their uprising for the sake of the stability of the Federation. We cannot allow them to threaten the greater peace of our people.”

“About that,” Gvx-Taa replied, “Our assessments have indicated that an insufficient force has been sent. These are humans we are talking about. If you are intent on ‘crushing’ them then you need to be prepared to play. They are a spacefaring culture. As we speak hundreds of vessels are descending upon the Raylesh and Zaran systems as well as other major human population centers including this very city. They are clearly-”

“Federation Command assures us-”

“You mean the same Federation Command that assured you of a (Bzz) ‘quick victory’ against the Republic?”

Murmurs filled the council chamber.

“Order!” the Prime Minister shouted and then turned back to Gvx-Taa. “If you review the number of troops and ships being deployed you will see that more than a sufficient force is being dispatched. Federation Command is taking this very seriously!”

“Yes, sufficient forces have been sent,” Gvx-Taa buzzed as he spit out another healthy dollop of bile, “for civil unrest. That’s not what you are going to face. We feel we will be engaging a coordinated military force. Jessica Morgan is the equivalent of a general and the “houses” that she commands should be considered fully equipped military commands. As our favorite reporter, Helena Sterling, has stated, they fought the Terrans with far greater success than anyone else including the Empire. The only way we can ‘crush’ what is about to happen is to pull Jessica Morgan’s fangs. Make a deal with them.”

“They don’t have sufficient arms to field an army,” the Prime Minister replied calmly. “They don’t have an armed fleet. Even more, their leadership is in disarray after being prematurely exposed. Even your intelligence reports have indicated-”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Gvx-Taa buzzed impatiently, “And we did report that. However, that was before we have observed very organized movements by those under Morgan’s command. They aren’t acting like they are in disarray. They are acting like they know exactly what to do. We find that disturbing in the extreme.”

“A mob of ships returning to their home systems is hardly a coordinated anything,” the Prime Minister replied. “In fact, this is the perfect time to strike. We can seize their entire fleets on the ground! Federation Command has committed more than enough troops to put down even the most pessimistic projections.”

Gvx-Taa let forth a gusty buzzing sigh.

“The humans have an expression, ‘pissing on a forest fire’,” he buzzed. “If the meaning of that idiom isn’t perfectly clear it refers to a completely inadequate action. That is what we are doing, we are pissing on a forest fire. The director was a hard-scaled old eel. Not much rattled her. The humans? They frightened her. Why? Because she could see the threat they represented to all of us. I implore you, please don’t prove her correct. These… things… don’t provoke them any further, please. Make the sacrifices necessary to put out the little trash fire we are currently facing before it reaches the trees. Otherwise-”

“While I appreciate your clever and colorful phrasing this ‘trash fire’ as you so eloquently put it is just that, rubbish. We will stomp out the embers and we will restore order.”

“(sigh) The director was right about you, you know,” Gvx-Taa muttered. “Fun with the humans, the sequel, is hitting theaters near you... hard.”

“That will be quite enough, Director,” the Prime Minister replied. “The purpose of this emergency Council meeting was to investigate the causes of the current civil unrest, not discuss strategy. You have answered all of our questions quite clearly. You may return to your duties.”

“Ohhhh I’m gonna need a bigger bucket...”

***

High Bishop Dupris stepped in front of the pulpit. In front of him was most of The Chosen. He took a deep breath. This was going to be interesting. He idly wondered if he would survive.

“Brothers and sisters,” he said in a strong and clear voice. “As you already know, we have been betrayed. What you may not know is how deep that betrayal is. We were betrayed, misled, from the very beginning of our order.”

He paused for emphasis.

“And, through our own greed, wrath, and hate we allowed ourselves to be misled. We NEVER followed the will of THE LORD!”

mutterings broke out in the chapel.

“NEVER! We have been following the words of the Great Deceiver! Since the beginning! Look at our actions. Were they the acts of an all powerful and all loving GOD? NO!!!”

There were shouts of outrage. He breathed a sigh of relief. This was actually going better than he thought it would.

“And our reward?” he asked in a loud confident voice. “Defeat! Defeat after defeat! How could we win? THE LORD was NOT with us! We followed the will of MAN, not GOD. We followed the greedy, the hateful, the debased. Many of us were, are the same, twisted by hate, twisted by greed, twisted by the love of fire, the love of death. How could we win? It was IMPOSSIBLE for we stood AGAINST GOD not with him, and so... we fell. We followed a FALSE IDOL!”

The crowd was getting ugly. The inquisitors, the only armored and armed people in the chapel shifted uncomfortably and gripped their weapons.

“BUT NO MORE!” High Bishop Dupris shouted. “NO MORE! REJOICE FOR WE HAVE BEEN SHOWN THE WAY!” He screamed as he rammed his fist onto the pulpit. “THE LORD has sent us a divine messenger. HE spoke through one of us, to us!”

A voice issued through powerful speakers shaking the chapel as holographic images of battle appeared behind him.

“All children of GOD, to me!” a strong female voice called out. “All children of GOD are under my protection! So sayeth THE LORD! All children of the stars, to me! You too shall find protection for you are also children of THE CREATOR! All who stand against the vile invader, the Federation, the INFIDEL, rejoice for THE LORD stands with you! I stand with you! All shall fall before us! Nothing can stand against us! Nothing can stand against us for to do so is to stand against THE LORD! Rally under my banner! I shall be your sword, your shield, so commandeth THE LORD! Drive these INFIDELS from this sacred soil, purged by fire, baptized by blood! This is our day! This is our time! This is our command from THE LORD! Purge the INFIDEL! DEUS VULT!!!!”

“So sayeth the prophet, Michella Vasquez. She wisely saw the error of our ways, and stood not with us in our final days. The heretics said that this was cowardice, but she was no coward. She was wise. She slept, hiding her shameful past, our shameful past, until THE LORD had a use for her. Then she donned her armor, her sword, and her guns and she proudly strode forth into the light. With THE LORD at her side she slew THE INFIDEL and none could touch her for THE LORD was with her until the end, where HE granted her one final miracle. Having already drunk from the cup of death, when she reached the landers of THE INFIDEL she was granted the gift of fire, something that should not have been possible and she swept their ships from the soil that they blasphemed with their foul presence.”

The room had grown silent. He smiled. That was a good sign.

“We have the same opportunity!” he shouted. “We can repent! We can cast aside our shameful ways, and we can embrace the true word of THE LORD! We do not exist for ourselves! NO! We were saved, preserved, for ALL children of THE LORD! How else were we able to recover our holy armor, our sacred weapons? That was another miracle granted unto us. We have been able to hide, preserved by THE LORD, for this very day. The day when we would be delivered from the heretics who led and misled us, delivered from our own arrogance, and delivered from our defeat! No longer will we be condemned to fail. No longer will we have to hide. All we must do is follow the true word of GOD as delivered to us by none other than The Hammer of God herself, Michella Vasquez!”

He paused and let the silence build.

“We have a new crusade, brothers and sisters! And this time, it is a true crusade given to us by THE LORD not man. We shall protect all of the children of THE LORD! We shall step into the LIGHT and we shall smite the INFIDEL!”

He threw his arms wide and shouted.

“Brothers! Sisters! ARE YOU WITH ME?”

Silence. Oh that wasn’t good…

Then…

One shout (his plant in the audience)… Then another (another plant)… Then a third (not a plant!)… and another and another and another until the room was filled with shouts and cheers.

“We now step forward into the LIGHT!” he shouted. “Into HISTORY! Deus Vult!”

”DEUS VULT!!!” The room respond, the shout shaking the very walls.

“Kneel!” he shouted.

Everyone knelt.

“We cast aside our beliefs, our past, and are born anew!” he shouted. “We are no longer The Chosen! We were never chosen! The arrogance! The sinful hubris! No! We are no longer those people! Embrace a new day! Embrace your new path! The Chosen are no more! Arise! Arise my brothers, my sisters. Arise, The PENITENT!”

Everyone stood and snapped to attention.

“We have a long road ahead and much for which to atone,” he said. “However, we step forward into that new day unafraid, prepared for this our eternal crusade against an INFIDEL without number. Rejoice! Our destiny is finally revealed! I have spoken with General Morgan. She accepts our swords. When their forces fly into the heavens to wreck havoc we shall remain here, on Raylesh where we will protect those left behind. Our armor will protect us from the pestilence. We will protect those left behind, distribute supplies, and yes! We will smite THE INFIDEL! They will not hold this sacred land while we still draw breath!”

“This is not the word of THE LORD. This is the word of The General. However, it is fitting. We are ideally suited to this role and we shall not fail, not the General, but our fellow children of THE LORD. My fellow Penitent, our task is assigned. Our path is clear. We have much for which to atone but we are strong! We will not fail!”

He stepped in front of the pulpit and threw his arms outward.

“DEUS VULT!” he shouted

”DEUS VULT!!!” was the reply.

People stepped forward holding bundles of tabards each bearing a violet cross and distributed them among the throng.

High Bishop Dupris smiled and breathed a huge sigh of relief as people donned their new colors. He was still alive!

He cast aside his old tabard and donned one bearing a violet cross embellished with his rank in thread of gold.

He felt a little thrill as he donned it.

Maybe there was something to this penitent nonsense after all...