The Ghosts were scattered across their half of the galaxy.
The team of six was disbursed in five directions, leading and directing their respective departments into position. When Saedah had been captured, the extent of Conclave was little more than organized pockets of resistance, mostly operating in neutral territory, staying in the shadows as much as possible.
He looked over reports with the voracity of a man starved and this was his first meal in weeks. He had Kitty to help him catch up on events, abridging some details where the reading grew too monotonous.
His friends had been busy.
His burdens were long ago distributed through his chain of command. He was proud to see that those he had trusted to take over, in the event of his death, had actually done better than he ever hoped. He was also torn, feeling useless and outdated. He wasn't needed any more. He was a Ghost in name only.
His friends had expanded, recruited, and sacrificed. They'd also obtained results.
How they ever managed to get Ceurul to cave was a mystery to him. All reports were lacking on the details. Whatever happened between Vidian and the Ruler and Lords of Ceurul was wholly unrecorded. Sure, the names were on record. The dates of their meetings were on record. The details, however unbelievingly frustrating it was, were not. He wanted to know what happened in that room. What decisions had been proposed; what deals had been offered; the deals on which they agreed. Details. He wanted Details!
With his friends on the front line and his activity in the movement practically non-existent, all he could do was read and listen to the last nineteen month's worth of updates and worry.
This was the beginning of the end. Conclave was at a point where both it and the Triad could not occupy the same galaxy. At least, not without some major changes on their enemy's side, and the Triad was not likely to agree to such a defeat. It certainly would not recognize Conclave as an equal partner-state, recognizing the force as a government over their occupied territory. There would be no cooperation between the two halves of the galaxy.
That was something Saedah found absolutely amazing. Conclave did hold half the galaxy. The two RREC colony branches and Minor belonged to the Conclave. Major and Superior belonged to the Triad.
With some alliance talk with Higarin, Conclave had the opportunity to snag territory from Superior, as well.
The proof of the Conclave's growth and power was only emphasized when Saedah looked over the collective mass of Generals and their direct subordinates. There were just over 100 in attendance in that room. On the base, there was a collection of over a thousand of the upper-command. Ten of which, Vorn's 'Strategos' or 'High Ten', sat around the large rectangular table with Vorn in his Apollo suit at the head, facing the Strategos and the cascading seats beyond. Saedah stood just behind him in his own modified suit.
The overhead lighting was dim, leaving the attendees to be lit by the cons before each. In this meeting, all in attendance were encouraged to participate.
Saedah had finally been allowed to test the nodes and the mods to his suit to accommodate his arm. His very first time in the suit, all those many years ago, could not compare to the cacophony of emotions and sensation that assaulted him at again putting the suit on. After fearing that he would never again be Dirge, the nodes had worked. The HUD registered his vitals and he could feel the suit around him. He'd feared he would never feel this free again, this powerful again, this...exhilaration again. He felt the faint rumble of the engines that operated the oxygen circulation system, along with the pump that supplied the suit with temperature regulation fluids, and the pumps for the fluids that would seal minor damages. That part was new.
He felt whole again. He'd missed it beyond words. The only difference between the first time and this time was that his left arm was without the casing of the green Apollo suit. The bright silver stood out, stark against the dark green. The suit and arm had been modified to form a tight seal.
Snapping back to the present, he scanned the congregation again, noting Hans slinking along the rows leaving a wake of startled and wary people. Saedah could recognize some of the faces in the room, having taught many of them. Some had once stood out above the others in the classes, and Saedah had known they would climb the ranks. Others, he was shocked to note, had barely participated in classes and barely passed. He wondered what they would say when they discovered their old instructor was a Ghost. Especially with how much hell some of them had given him.
"As you all know by now, we have gained a lot of knowledge over the past few days that have marked a definite beginning to a real war." Vorn said calmly from within his helmet. He waited for the murmurs to quiet as the audience rippled with excitement. "With this, we have declared the territory we presently hold as the Conclave State." The stunned silence lasted only moments before a cheer erupted from everyone present, excluding Saedah, Vorn, and the assembled High Ten.
"And as you can see, this is the first meeting that I have brought another to represent the Ghosts. Dirge was responsible for retrieving this information." All eyes turned to Saedah as Vorn spoke. As agreed upon, Saedah stepped forward. The murmur of whispers swept the gathering again, this time noting the obvious prosthetic. "He sacrificed his arm to retrieve this information." Yeah, it was a stretch of the truth, but Vorn insisted it would help his PR, since he'd been absent for so long. The higher-ups all knew something had gone down, even if they didn't know the details.
Saedah removed his helmet and smiled at the shocked expressions that stared back at him. It was another shocked silence, one that did not break. Even the High Ten stared at him as though he had just pulled off the grandest magic trick in all of history. Perhaps he had.
"Across the system, the Ghosts are revealing their faces to their departments. Flux was exposed long before today, to only a few in his department. and today he will be exposing himself as Maclin Lamorra, Chief of Medicine. Citram Tidral, Chief of Information, reveals her face as Penance. Raze, Chief of Investigations, reveals himself as Vector Tansen," a chorus of exclamations broke out at hearing that Vector was Raze. Many of those present had dealt with the Agamid throughout their climb to the top. "Vidian Agarra will be unveiling herself as Ker from her post on Ceurul, where she serves the Royal family as advisor." He took a deep breath and stood. The room grew an aura that buzzed with excitement. Saedah could almost feel it on his skin. The High Ten even leaned forward in their seats and looked to one another, as though trying to confirm that this was actually happening.
"It is only fair that I, too, show myself. Before I do this, there are three things I must address. First, remember that I have served alongside each and every one of you for years." This was quite possibly the single greatest fear that Vorn faced on a personal level. It was a valid fear that the Conclave body would reject him, strictly due to his family lineage, and the person on the throne at the time. "I, and every Ghost of Conclave, have given our very soul to the mission of creating a better future for all in the known galaxy."
A chorus of 'hoorah' went up.
"Secondly, I am showing myself today to the highest of Conclave military command, only. My Identity is confidential and will remain as such. This choice, exposing the identities of five of our six Ghosts, is a political maneuver." Vorn wouldn't tell them that they had been forced into the revelations, due to their identities already being leaked. "We believe that you, at least, should know the face and name behind the orders you are following."
Then the Specters entered. A notable wave passed through the congregation as they noted the appearance of the infamous Interrogators. They were known by many names and unofficial titles. Specters were their official title, but the fomenters often called them interrogators, questioners, and inquisitors. It was a well-known fact that the Specters were the closest thing in HQ to a regular becoming a Ghost.
Saedah did a double-take as he scanned the faces of the Spectors. Jones smiled and saluted from his position by the door. Saedah nodded, returning the salute. The few in the room who noticed the exchange stared at Jones with curiosity and wonder. Saedah could just barely make out some of the whispered questions. Chief among them were 'Who is he?', 'How does he know Dirge?' and 'Is he a high-ranking Questioner?'. In just moments, Jones had become a celebrity. Still reeling from Jones' presence, he forced himself to return to the present, to Vorn's next point.
"Third," Vorn said as Saedah walked around him to ascend into the cascading seats. There were two names, two spies from the list, in this room. "Nanida Harishma and Jarik Nadiel," Saedah and vorn both noted the two heads that shot up at the names. Vorn continued to speak.
"Also known as Triad espionage agents Lindra Harsh and Jarel Nade. If you would please step down peacefully and see the Specters for your escort to the transport." The two, near the bottom row, shot to their feet and shouted protests. Before they could form more than a few words, Vorn had their Triad profiles projected in large images, including pictures of both in Triad uniforms. Copies of their correspondences with Triad officers were also shown. Thank the gods they had thought ahead to collect all weapons before entry. Those two looked ready to flay Vorn alive, and nearly every single Conclave man had a hand on an empty holster. This could have gotten bloody rather quickly. There was little the two could do, surrounded as they were by high-ranking soldiers and Specters just feet away. Not to mention a fully armed and ready Ghost.
"You will fail! You will all fail!" The man, Jarel, screamed repeatedly as he was dragged to the transport in cuffs. Saedah hoped the Specters had muzzles ready; the man's screaming would get old fast.
When Saedah took his post behind Vorn's chair once more, Hans was beside him, bristled and agitated. He pressed against Saedah's leg as they watched Vorn move to a clear area where all could see. With hesitance in his steps only Saedah could recognize, the man reached the center of the conference hall's stage. In slow, methodical movements he unclasped and removed the helmet. This was the first time in over sixteen years that Vorn had shown his face in public, not including their reserved medical hall.
The excited murmurs died as every wide, confused eye fell on the face of Vorn Chrysos. Vorn avoided meeting the eyes of his audience as he continued to remove the suit. It was a common question whether the Ghosts were dressed under the Suits, or if they were naked below the armor. They typically wore their small clothes, or clothing thin enough to not interfere with the node connection. Vorn unclasped and removed the greaves and pauldrons, working his way to the chest piece. Any Ghost could remove the entire suit themselves, but Saedah noted the tremor in Vorn's fingers. His hands shook when his nerves were frayed, and Vorn was certainly well outside his comfort zone. Feeling the need to intervene before damage was done to Vorn's image, Saedah stepped in.
"You wanted them to know who was at the top, especially with everything that's coming, and I agree with you. But I'm not here to watch you strip tease in front of a hundred men," Saedah whispered in a tone low enough that none could over hear. Seeing the flash in Vorn's eye, he helped his bond-brother unclasp and remove the chest piece, leaving Vorn's chest bare. He was enjoying the fact that Vorn wouldn't dare hit him in present company.
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Vorn suppressed the urge to throttle the insolent bastard and turned to show his back to the congregation. His scars had not diminished in the time that Saedah had been gone. Actually, there may have even been a few new additions to the collection. Gasps echoed around the chamber, followed by the dull roar of a hundred people talking at once.
"I am the Ghost Requiem. I..." Vorn boomed, silencing the room in an instant. This was the first time that those men were hearing the unaltered, real voice of Vorn Chrysos; of Requiem. Everyone seemed to hold their breath, thoroughly hanging on his every word. "I am just a man. I bleed, I scar, and I can die. Just like all of you. I have served alongside many of you, even if you didn't know it. I was here on NaBoht during the Triad raid three years ago. I was a member of a supply ship, guarding doctors in route to the hot zone. Our ship went down, and I was taken. Believe me when I say there is no love lost between me and the man that claimed the throne. I was eleven when my family was slaughtered. Three were younger than I was. For a year, I survived in the RREC colonies, learning first-hand all of what the Triad does wrong, both for and to the people. I needed to fix what my bloodline had broken, so I joined the railroad and helped found the Conclave."
"We all know the history of Requiem," A young man, near the center of the tiered seats, spoke into his com. He blushed furiously as all eyes turned to him, just realizing that he had interrupted the Requiem. The crimson stain bled into his hairline and made his ears all but glow. Vorn only nodded and indicated with a lazy wave that the man, Gray Landon, had the floor. After clearing his throat nervously, Gray continued, "But how are you alive? There were no survivors of the Chrysos tragedy."
"My uncle is not as smart as he would like to believe." Vorn paused and looked over the audience. Saedah could see that they wanted more details, but he knew Vorn would not give them any more. "I show myself to you today, only because I may need you at my back when the time comes. There will be a time when I can no longer remain the hidden wild-card. I need you to support me when the people baulk at dethroning one Chrysos for another." Vorn replied, replacing the armor. He left the helmet sitting on the floor and took his seat.
"But I think we stray from the important topic here: What we intend to do with the threats we face." Vorn pressed a button on his console and copies of their initiatives were projected over each console around the room. It was everything the Ghosts had concluded as a result of the enemy plans. Everything that had been done while Saedah lay in bed, unconscious and recovering. "Here are the plans in motion of the other departments, and some proposals of how best to utilize their movements."
It seemed that Vorn's fear of being rejected was unfounded. It seemed that while his true identity was a surprise to all, it was amazingly accepted as a matter of course. For most, anyway. There were a few in the congregation that cast Vorn suspicious looks, and Saedah marked the names of each. Those few were likely to be trouble later.
Three hours into the meeting, the High Ten were over their antics of pushing Vorn with ill-concealed near-insubordination. They treated Vorn with the respect he demanded as the founding Ghost and the person who would take the throne on Gaea. The proposals were solid. The generals had admitted that fact, and were prepared to follow the systematic steps laid before them to prepare for the war to come. They had even broken away from the discussion with Vorn and began to propose additional ideas amongst themselves. Vorn leaned back in his chair and watched. Saedah couldn't help but see an aura around his brother, not dissimilar to the Aura around the Ceurish family.
Vorn sat regally, listening to how one general proposed a modification to positions bordering others' districts to better enforce the line. Saedah crossed his arms and finally realized the reason Vorn let his generals have more free reign than was deemed proper. They took charge of the preparations and deep-detail planning. After the initial briefing, Vorn only gave input when he saw a flaw or exploit in their processes, or had questions. His policy extended to all in the room, as well. Those from within the cascades were invited down when they had input to add, and there were several brought forth to elaborate on or argue against suggestions.
One young woman had lived in the district she served. She knew how a strong magnetic distortion in an asteroid field could be used to exploit and bypass the Conclave State border. She was brought before the whole of the congregation to explain how it worked and how best to prepare for such a tactic, if it were attempted. She even suggested posting some fighters and mines among the asteroids to use that very tactic against any who would try.
Vorn had always been preparing his men for the day when they had to think and work together as a state at war.
From her position before the majority of her department, Citram stood in the Apollo skin of Penance. Her helmet rest on the podium as she spoke to the audience, her High Ten standing around her. Those in the audience who did not work directly under her on a daily basis had been shocked when she removed her helmet. People had shot to their feet, the questions pouring forth in a verbal flood, conflicting emotions burning in their eyes.
"Please hold your questions to the end. We have much to cover, and a war for which we must prepare." She said, holding her hand up to forestall the verbal onslaught. "For now, we need to discuss two pressing matters regarding the additional security along the new Conclave State boundary.
"And no, what we have been doing is not warfare. We have been resisting suppression and oppression, going through the motions as an inconvenience at best. Now we have brought the full might of the Triad to attention. Before we begin, I have one very important issue to address." She opened her slate and watched as the audience did the same. "If everyone will look at page sixteen, you will see a list of names. These are people known to be Triad spies. If you see your name," she indicated the team of twenty to the right of the stage, "a Spector will escort you to a transporter standing by." Horror morphed the faces of many in the audience. Three people jumped from their seats in an attempt to escape. They were brutally captured at the door by hidden Specters using moves typically associated with the battlefield.
Four more spies were identified from within the audience, as those sitting around them backed away. Disgust twisted the people's faces, backing away from the identified spies. Hatred and anger, outrage and frustration warred on the spies' faces. Shouts of accusations and insinuations flew from both members as the Specters waded into the building tension. Two of the spies fought. One managed to disable a Spector with a kick to the groin, followed by a knee to the face. One name sparked outrage from behind Citram, where her High Ten sat. Closing her eyes, she heard a chair clang as it was thrown backward.
The man stood and charged forward, intent on Citram. Before the man could reach his target, Citram turned to confront the man. Only moments later he knelt with blood running down his face, cuffed and muzzled. One eye was swollen shut while his lip was split spectacularly. Her Skin was hard while his unprotected human body provided little protection. She had not pulled her punches, either. With the Ceur temper raging, she'd nearly beat the man unconscious before reigning herself in.
After her brutal display, she nearly had a riot on her hands as her forces made to act in kind. After a quick and loud "stand down!", the spies were treated as though they carried a deadly contagious disease. To the spies, what they had done was not betrayal; it was work. They were now able to openly display their ridicule and distaste for the Conclave. But for those who had trusted and grown to care for those false personas, it was a betrayal that cut deep. Citram could see the hurt in many faces as the spies were dragged to waiting transports.
"In light of this," She tapped the report on her slate, "the Post Protocol is now active. You have all received details of this in your packets." She went on to describe the new communications protocol, and how they were to cooperate with the military throughout implementation.
"Now, as for why I have shown you who I am and brought the rumors of my identity to an end: Five of the six Ghosts are unveiling themselves right now, just as I have done. Maclin LaMorra as Flux, and the Chief of Medicine. Vidian Agarra as Ker, Political Advisor and presently serving the Ceurish throne." She was not going to tell them that Vidian was the person in charge of those who she recruited from the Spectors. That was still just a rumor, and one the Ghosts thought best left alone for a time. Vidian ran the Assassins, with no official title or department. "Vector Tansen as Raze, Chief of Investigations." Eyes shifted to the Specters as dots were connected. The Spectors, attempting to remain poised, even displayed wide eyes and shocked expressions.
"And Saedah Karth as Dirge, returning Chief of Technology." Everyone in communications knew what had happened with Saedah that day on Higarin. That event had been used in training for every Conclave department, to make sure it never happened again.
The theater rumbled with the murmurs of her audience.
"The identity of Requiem, for the time being, is remaining classified." Disappointment fueled the volume in the room, forcing Citram to wait for the cacophony to settle. "for those of you in the disbursement department, please look to page nineteen and report to Sergeant Cayhal Daughtery in the cafeteria for weapons allocations and disbursements. The rest, please look to page twenty-seven. Review this, and meet back here in one hour." It was lunch on the planet of IcoMera and Citram had ordered catering. She wanted to demand only a thirty minute break, but her First General of the High Ten, her highest ranking Strategos, Jayke had suggested that thirty minutes would not allow them enough time to eat, review the material, and calm down from all of the excitement. She had relented, and now understood it for truth. As soon as they were allowed to stand, the room trembled with the dull roar. Everyone was clustered into groups and were talking excitedly.
After an hour, the seats were filled again. Everyone sat fully focused and attentive, if not eager. "This is how our department will be assisting the Specters in their hunt." As she finished the introduction, one of the Specters took her place at the podium. He was an unassuming man, easily lost in a crowd but for his height. He looked at Citrams helmet, still laying atop the podium in front of him, with a look of surreal admiration before turning his attention to the crowd.
Mac stood at one end of the largest room in the hospital. The cafeteria did not provide much in the way of formality, but it allowed him to have everyone of importance in attendance. He stood with his helmet removed and nestled below his arm. Those who knew both sides of him, prior to that moment, flanked him to the left and right. They were his Strategos. Flux and Doctor Maclin LaMorra stood as one being before a sea of medical professionals. The painted Oath on the wall behind him burned his soul, as he was a living contradiction to each and every word. He would continue to be such, but not always on the front lines from this point forward.
His announcement of the formal declaration of a Conclave state had been met with cheers. The announcement of the equally formal declaration of war against their state was met with silence.
"We have finally witnessed the birth of the Conclave State. We all knew it was coming, and now that it is here, real war is beginning. Everyone we have ever recruited is being called to active duty. This includes trainees, graduates, Instructors, and assistants. The few that have retired are being contacted now." Mac paused and ran a hand through his hair. "Before I can give more information on this, I need three people to come to the front. Selin Thane, Dirk Burn, and Evih Grun. Please come forward." He waited for the three to reach the front and instructed them to line up and face their peers. "Selin Thane. You have served the Conclave for four years. Dirk Burn, you have served for five. Evih Grun, two years." He turned to speak to the room as a round of polite clapping began.
"These people were not born with these names." He interrupted, enunciating each word with growing vehemence. He tapped his slate and projected the three Triad profiles. "Selin Thane is Nelles Tanker. Dirk Burn is Drish Brandit. Evih Grun is Yana Genell." The three looked on with wide eyes, knowing they were royally tanked. There was no escape, having to cross the whole of the room to reach the exit, not counting Mac standing between them and freedom, obviously ready to dance with all three of them. When the Specters entered, they simply knelt, praying for mercy or a quick death, as they thread their fingers together behind their heads. Those found guilty of espionage during times of war were not held to Prisoner of War status, and could be executed on the spot. And the Conclave was certainly in a time of war. Evih, or Yana, actually started to cry. As the Specters led the spies away, those looking on gave the procession a wide berth.
"Now, then. Let us continue to posts. Shift leaders, please come forward to learn your teams and deployments." Then the assignments were passed out. The Shift leaders, after receiving their packets, were sent to spread the word throughout HQ and have their team members confirm with assigned coms officers.