The Reason

“It’s time.”

The black-furred felait’s green eyes widened in surprise at the words from the holographic image of a crescent moon before her. The darkness of the dimly-lit room seemed to close in on her as her heart raced for a moment.

“Are you sure?”

“Operate Angel Wings is ready, Morning Star. We have everyone we can get, and Operation Lemba begins in five days.”

This Morning Star seemed even more shocked now, a tinge of irritation in her lively eyes before she typed her response.

“Five days? That would’ve been nice to know sooner, Eclipse. Operation Supernova didn’t exactly go as planned. We retrieved the asset, but High Mountain is out of commission.”

“I realise this is such short notice, and I’m sorry. I wasn’t allowed to tell you until now. You know more than most how these things are. But the finalisation of Operation Angel Wings is integral to Operation Lemba. See to it that you do so the day before Operation Lemba.”

Morning Star sighed, rolling her eyes in pure annoyance. “Very well. I’ll inform the others.”

“Very good. See you in five days. Eclipse out.”

The holographic image of a crescent moon vanished, and the lights turned back on in the room the black-furred felait was within, revealing that it was a starship’s quarters, the metal walls unwelcoming to a planet-dweller but all too familiar to this Morning Star.

A chime sounded from the direction of the quarter’s door, and the black-furred felait pressed a button on her wrist to open the door. Standing in the doorway was a tall, muscular Launn, his brown eyes betraying his curiosity at Morning Star’s irritated and anxious expression.

“Everything alright, Silacha?”

Silacha nodded. “Gather the others,” she signed.

“Ugh,” the Launn grunted. “You know I can’t understand that. Serolas! Can you please translate this for me?”

Silacha, the Morning Star, slipped a rather unbecoming hand signal behind the Launn’s back, lowering her hands when he turned his gaze back to her. The next person to enter Silacha’s quarters was Serolas – a tall, handsome tan-furred tabby felait with a dark brown mane and shining golden eyes.

“I got this, Al-Ith,” Serolas told the Launn before turning to Silacha, his captivating eyes looking into hers. “What is it, dear?”

Silacha rolled her eyes, though a smile snuck its way onto her face before she repeated what she tried to tell Al-Ith.

“She says to gather the others,” Serolas relayed to the Launn.

“On it,” Al-Ith declared, briskly strutting off.

Serolas turned back to Silacha, approaching them, noticing the troubled expression on their face.

“What’s wrong?”

Silacha sighed. “You’ll find out. Just meet me in the common area.”

“Okay,” Serolas murmured. “I trust you.”

Serolas left Silacha’s quarters, and after a couple minutes of silence and clearing her mind, Silacha did the same. When she arrived in the common area, everyone was there, just as intended. They were all seated around a round table, its once-silver surface scuffed and dirty.

Loretta, the Midnight Witch. Kin Rav, the last of the mor’tvai. Mabuch, the difficult pilot. Fuleana, the Irakas. Al-Ith, the seasoned warrior. Serolas, the cunning wordsmith. And Silacha, the former assassin, now Commander.

If only Risas’ta, Roharth, and Rosgarth were here to see this, Silacha thought.

Silacha took a deep breath before turning specifically to Serolas. “Please translate for the idiots.”

Serolas, Mabuch, and Fuleana chuckled, but the others were confused.

“What?” Loretta questioned. “What’d she say?”

“Nothin’,” Serolas giggled. “They just want me to translate for you, err, lovely folks who don’t know Soporthnan Sign.”

“She called you idiots,” Fuleana cut in, bursting into laughter.

“Hey-!” Kin Rav began to protest, but Silacha cut them off, raising her hand.

“I know we’re still trying to deal with Rosgarth being in intensive care, but this is important,” Silacha said, with Serolas translating. “Those of you who have been part of the Stoneheart Squadron since the beginning have wondered for a long time, ‘Why did the Galactic Liberty Alliance Leading Council relay information through Silacha instead of directly through Risas’ta?’ You’ve wanted a reason.”

Serolas slowed in his speech at this last sentence, the gears turning in his head as curiosity burned behind his eyes, his gaze boring into Silacha’s skull. Though, honestly, the entire room itself seemed to be staring at Silacha in this moment. And might as well have been, since all the people in it were.

“Well, all this time, we’ve been operating under top-secret cover,” Silacha explained. “I’ve acted as a liaison between the Leading Council and Risas’ta, though that information was, until now, top-secret. What I’m about to tell you was under the highest security up until now.”

“Just get on with it!” Mabuch scoffed. “There’s no reason to drag this shit on. Spit it out!”

“Oh, clain tao shob,” Fuleana bit back. “Let the woman speak.”

Silacha continued. “Operation Angel Wings: the initiative to recreate the Order of the Galactic Sentinels. Objective: procure powerful individuals to revive the Order. We have reached the culmination of this objective, and from hereon, the Order of the Galactic Sentinels is reinstated with Al-Ith Aritas as Lead Sentinel. Fuleana Englewood, Loretta Paoli, and Kin Rav will be Galactic Sentinels, and will follow the command of Al-Ith. Henceforth, the Order of the Galactic Sentinels is its own entity within the Galactic Liberty Alliance.”

After Serolas finished translating, the room went completely silent for what felt like an eternity. Finally, of course, Mabuch broke the silence.

“I’m sorry…WHAT?”

“Oh, and,” Silacha added, “we’re attacking New Quexivia in five days.”

“Oh, just as a fuckin’ side-note,” Mabuch sneered, rolling his eyes. “When were you planning on telling us all this?”

“Just now,” Silacha signed, glaring at the overly talkative kunyn. “I was only just informed of the attack on New Quexivia, and Operation Angel Wings had to remain a secret for the whole damn integrity of the fucking operation. If you have a problem with that, you can take it up with General Trei Dearum when we meet her in five days.”

Kin Rav raised one of their four hands. Silacha nodded to them, allowing them to speak.

“Will we get cool armour like the old Sentinels?” the mor’tva inquired.

“That’s the first question you ask?” Mabuch jeered.

“Shut the fuck up, please,” Fuleana begged of the cocky asshole.

“I don’t know,” Silacha admitted. “Probably. I’m not privy to all the details. I’m just the procurer and the messenger.”

“So that’s why you originally came to Sorulia all those years ago to extract us,” Serolas deduced.  

Silacha nodded. “This Operation has been many years in the making – since before we ever met. This is how we take back Saixalagia. This is how we win against those imperialist bastards.”

“I’m in,” Al-Ith blurted out, standing up, having had been silent the entire time. “It would be an honour to be the first Lead Sentinel of the new Order of the Galactic Sentinels.”

“I’m in, too,” Fuleana eagerly joined in, practically jumping from her seat.

“Same here,” Kin Rav added, getting up more calmly.

“Me too,” Loretta joined, also getting up.

Silacha found the demonstration amusing but inspiring. “None of you had a choice in this, really, but the gesture is appreciated.”

“For Saixalagia,” Serolas raised a fist, once again staring deeply into Silacha’s soul.

“For Saixalagia,” Silacha signed, then raising her fist without any need for translation from Serolas.

The rest of the crew joined in, chanting in one voice – even Mabuch – cementing the personal promises they’d made to themselves, to each other, to the rest of the Galactic Liberty Alliance, and to all those who could not fight for themselves.

“For Saixalagia!”