Things to Come…
I am changing the posting schedule somewhat, I am sorry to disappoint! I have amended the about page already, but I will now only post issues of The Adventures of Tylus Worran once a month, on the 5th of every month. However, you can rely on new content every 5 days, every month, which means Six posts per month except for February (maybe)! The new posting schedule gives me more time to write and prepare, and my hope is that it will result in higher quality work overall. You can see the first issue of this series HERE and the pervious installment HERE.
I wanted to also let you know that I am planning to use September for a subscription drive I plan to call SUBTEMBER. I am excited about it and I have a lot of things planned, I hope you stay tuned because I will have some special posts that month as part of the subscription effort. There may be a few perks that are of interest to you as well! Keep your peepers peeled for SUBTEMBER! But, without further ado…
6- Address
The hallway was lined on one side with floor-to-ceiling windows. The windows were thick, to bear the atmospheric pressure—outside lay the vacuum of space. When I was younger, looking into the stars would give me a sense of vertigo—a turning in my stomach, as if I was falling down an infinite well, or standing at the bottom and looking up the side of an infinite tower. It was dizzying, quite literally. I smiled, as I rolled that memory around my thoughts—now I am in control.
I slowed my walking pace, and came to a stop, and listened to the clattering shoes and boots that followed me halt themselves. I rest on hand on the window, and lean in. “Magnificent, isn’t it, gentlemen?”
They babble their agreement, but the General Anders Gerin steps in next to me, and takes a deep breath. “Truly, Tsar-Comrade. It’s not often you get to see the fleet on Parade.”
Outside the window was a constellation of lights and silhouettes of the 1st and 2nd Jovian Fleets, arrayed in a grid-like pattern, smaller frigates towards the front, then the larger capital ships behind them. The supercapital ship Neptune silhouetting the rest of the fleet with its enormous size, presenting its broad side to me, on this space station, around which the fleet was arrayed. After a pause, I nodded agreement to the General, and whispered, “Beautiful.”
We soaked in the glory of the moment, until one of the mewling attendants cleared his throat. “Ahem, Tsar-Comrade? The meeting is scheduled—”
I closed my eyes. “The meeting WILL WAIT for me, Rad Schultz!” I exclaimed with unexpected force. I balled my fist, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. I used to be an angrier man. I still am—but more controlled. “Let’s go.”
We concluded our trek down the hallway, and back into the labyrinthine maze of the space station. It was my Executive station, I knew it by heart, which is why I insisted on leading the assembly down the hallways—down my hallways, to the meeting room where a dozen commanders waited patiently for their Tsar to arrive.
* * *
We were seated around a circular table—a custom of the Jovian Union, demonstrating that all of us were equals—Comrades—in the eyes of the state. The way all the eyes were fixed on me was always amusing—no matter the shape of the table, man always had an intuitive sense of authority. They waited for my signal to start the meeting. I arranged some papers, to draw the moment out—to reinforce that they were waiting for me—and then stood up to begin.
“Comrades,” I began, “Comrades, please, may I have your attention?” A few whisperers on the opposite side of the table ceased their conspiring.
“Comrades, it is my honor to share this table with you today. Many of you began your service to our Union before my reign began, some of you may even be serving after I am gone—we stand, as ever, as not the leaders of men but as the recipients of a great gift, a great inheritance—Our Glorious Revolution.” The generals liked that, they smiled and looked at each other.
“It is that revolution which was tarnished by the Treason during the reign of Tsar-Comrade Medvedev of beloved memory. Our Union remains strong, the fruit of the Revolution is nevertheless diminished. When I came to power, I made no secret that this injustice was unacceptable. It is not a matter of pride, but responsibility. Responsibility, Comrades, to our citizens who are alienated from their mother. Our people who have forgotten what it means to be connected to each other as brothers in Humanity, and as sons and daughters of our beloved homeworld Earth. In their pride, they rejected that connection. In their arrogance, they declared their independence, like insolent children. In the twenty-five years I have served you as Tsar and Comrade, I have overseen the reconstruction of our fleets in secrecy, assembled here for one glorious assembly before our sons and daughters, our pride and joy, are sent to the front to bring the fruits of Our Glorious Revolution back to her wayward people.
I implore you, therefore, remember with parental love the duties of the soldiers, men and women entrusted into your care. Remember the sacrifice they have been called to make in the service of the Revolution. Remember with ice the bitter insults made to them by the proud and arrogant people who have cast themselves across the stars, as if branches can survive apart from the tree of life that is their patrimony. Remember with steadfast resolve the commission I am giving you: Not to conquer a new people, but to bring our sons and daughters home.”
The generals pounded on the table in acclamation. I couldn’t stop from smiling—I love winning, and I know we will win.
Thank You
Thank you for reading. Please share your thoughts—would you like to hear more? Does this story interest you? What works, what does not? Where have I made grammatical errors? No questions, comments, or critiques are off the table—I have come here for your feedback and you have paid for the privilege, so give it freely.
Thank you, and God Bless!
Ad Jesum Per Mariam