Lay down

Your sweet and weary head

Night is falling

You have come to journey's end

Sleep now

And dream of the ones who came before

They are calling

From across the distant shore

Why do you weep?

What are these tears upon your face?

Soon you will see

All of your fears will pass away

Safe in my arms

You're only sleeping

What can you see

On the horizon?

Why do the white gulls call?

Across the sea

A pale moon rises

The ships have come to carry you home

And all will turn

To silver glass

A light on the water

All Souls pass

Hope fades

Into the world of night

Through shadows falling

Out of memory and time

Don't say

We have come now to the end

White shores are calling

You and I will meet again

And you'll be here in my arms

Just sleeping

What can you see

On the horizon?

Why do the white gulls call?

Across the sea

A pale moon rises

The ships have come to carry you home

And all will turn

To silver glass

A light on the water

Grey ships pass

Into the West

Annie Lennox - “Into The West”

It should be raining, Chechla thought, as she looked over the gathered crowd. Why is it not raining?

Her brother reached out and took her hand, sharing a private moment, as Leandra Singh rose from her chair and ascended the small dais, taking her place before the podium.

“Friends, honored guests, I wish to thank you for coming today as we pay tribute to a great hero, someone who earned the respect of all who knew him. Someone who, despite a lifetime of pacifism, took up arms to defend his home and way of life. Someone I came to call a friend, and whose courage and integrity left me forever humbled. I refer to General Nassat...the Hero of Three Wars.”

A hush fell over the throng, a mass of bodies that spread out in every direction. Leandra turned to look at the twins and the individual seated beside them. “It is perhaps fitting that on this day, as we honor Nassat, we also celebrate the signing of the Constitutional Amendment admitting the Khonhim race as full partners in the Tetrarchy.” A smile came to her face. “For Nassat was someone who believed in Peace, above all else. That we have put an end to the conflicts we have waged for so long...I know in my heart, this would have brought him joy.”

Chechla glanced at the woman to her left...Chikkij Kowzhach, formerly the Deputy Dhyaksh, now the first Khonhim Minister. There was no way she could be as calm as she appeared, the young Saurotaur was certain of that, but then she was a politician, long practiced in concealing her true emotions.

“If there is any comfort to be found on this day,” she continued, “perhaps it is knowing that Nassat did not face the end alone...for at his side stood his comrade-in-arms, a man he once called his enemy...the Dhyaksh Jiyazh Ghuuyaz.”

This time Chechla saw the Khonhim woman react, her pain as real and as palpable as her own.

“The pair met in battle, many years ago,” Leandra went on, “and despite that, found common cause. I know they faced the end as they lived...with courage, and a refusal to surrender.”

She took a moment to gather herself before motioning to the twins. “The children of General Nassat are here today to unveil his monument,” she told the crowd, as the twins stepped forward, “and I know that he is here with us in spirit, watching over us...just as he always has.”

Chechla gripped the rope leading to the drapery, taking a deep breath as she gave it a firm tug. The cloth fell away, revealing a bronze statue on a marble base, her eyes wet as she saw the image of her father, dressed not in his uniform, but the prayer robes she always associated with him. She felt Taichist’s presence at her side as the twins bowed their heads...and said goodbye.

“Father would have hated it,” Chechla said quietly, many hours later.

“He would,” Taichist agreed. “He always shunned the spotlight, even before Mother’s death. And the statue…” Somehow, he managed a wry grin. “I think it would have horrified him.”

A wet sob and laugh burst from his sister’s chest. “It would, wouldn’t it?” she got out. “Even though it is a good likeness.” She smiled for a moment and then looked away. “I miss him,” she whispered.

“As do I,” her brother agreed, taking her hand before turning to her. “Do you think...he was proud of us? At the end?” he asked.

Chechla slowly faced him. “...I do,” she said at last.

“Thank God that’s over,” Leandra sighed, as she led her guest into her office. “I never cared for funerals...especially for someone like Nassat.” She went to the sideboard and began to pour. “But that isn’t the reason I wanted to speak with you.”

“It feels strange,” Chikkij Kowzhach admitted, looking around, “as though I were an interloper in this place.”

Leandra cackled as she handed the newly ordained Khonhim Minister a glass. “I know how you feel,” she chuckled, taking a seat across from her. “Thirty years and I still catch myself asking, ‘What the hell am I doing here?’”

They sipped their drinks in silence for a moment until Chikkij spoke up once more. “Prime Minister, while I am grateful for all you have done to weld our races together, I fear what comes next. There are many out there, your people and mine, who remain unconvinced joining the Khonhim to the Tetrarchy is wise. Many on both sides who believe it to be a mistake...and will fight this new union to their dying breath.”

“You’re right to be worried,” Leandra nodded. “The road ahead will not be an easy one. The old Triumvirate types are still squawking over humanity taking a place beside them, and given the blood spilled on both sides, these many years…” She spread her hands, encompassing everything around them. “It will be an uphill fight, every step of the way.” She drained her glass, setting it aside, and then rose to her feet. “Thankfully, it’s not my problem anymore,” she smirked.

The Khonhim blinked. “....What?” she said in disbelief and horror. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m done, Chikkij,” Leandra sighed. “Thirty years I’ve held this post...and that was thirty years too long. But it was necessary...important, even. I’ve fulfilled my role and done what I came to do. What lies ahead, cementing the Khonhim people into this society, that’s a job for my successor.”

Her head spun at this revelation. “But...who will lead the people now?” she asked. “How will we even choose your successor? Who is best qualified? How...?” she sputtered, as Leandra raised her hand.

“Don’t worry...I’m not about to dump a succession crisis in your lap as my final act,” she smiled. “It’s all been taken care of….even if I had to twist a few arms.” The grin on her face grew even wider, and the twinkle in her eye was unmistakable.

“Then who...?” Chikkij demanded...only to come to a screeching halt as Leandra began to snicker. Her eyes went wide as Singh’s private joke landed. “...you...you cannot be serious,” she whispered. “This is madness...I cannot be Prime Minister!”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Leandra corrected her. “It has to be you. There’s no way they’d accept another human at the helm, not after the way I’ve run roughshod over them for so long. But by the same token, it can’t be one of the old Triumvirate races either. Hell, the Ronin are still reeling from all that’s happened, and as for the Ophipterans and Saurotaur, if it was up to them their first act would be to tear up the Amendment we just signed, and send your race packing.” A forlorn look came over her, as she stared off into the distance. “Which would mean war…again.” She sighed and looked back at her counterpart. “We can’t afford another war, Chikkij. None of us can. The next one would destroy all we have built, and I’ve worked too damn hard, been through too damn much, to let that happen.”

The Khonhim Minister…Prime Minister...felt as if the universe was closing in around her. “I’m not ready,” she whispered.

“You’re ready,” Leandra smiled, “and if not...you’ve got about an hour before we make the announcement to get ready.”

“But...but....what am I supposed to do?” she wailed.

“Well, if you want my advice?” Leandra said in conspiratorial tones. “Put them to work coming up with a new name for the government.”

Chikkij just stared at her. “...what?” she asked.

Singh smirked. “It’s perfect...just the kind of nonsense to keep them occupied while you get some real work done. Besides, you can’t keep calling it the ‘Tetrarchy’...and if you go with ‘Quintumvirate’, or some such, what happens if someday, someone else wants to join?” She chuckled at that. “I lean towards ‘Confederation’, myself...but it doesn’t matter what you call it. Just make sure it works.” Leandra reached out and placed a hand on her arm. “I didn’t make this decision lightly, Chikkij. I chose you for a reason.”

She swallowed and bowed her head. “I wish Jiyazh were here,” she mumbled. “I miss his counsel.”

“He’d be the first one to tell you to accept the post,” Leandra replied. “He’d hate it...but he knew a good deal when he saw one.” She sighed once more. “I wouldn’t worry too much about the old Triumvirate...it’s Earth you must monitor. I may have shown Hélène Fujimoto the door, but she’s not done yet. Expect her to be the focal point for whatever opposition party we humans come up with...and while you’re at it, make sure you keep Governor Szabolcsi on a short leash. He’s still on the fence, and it wouldn’t take much for him to fall back into old habits.”

“You...would betray your own people?” Chikkij said in shock.

“I have had much bigger concerns than just Earth for a long time,” she pointed out. “We sink or swim together, never forget that...especially when the Khonhim push you to take full control, and settle some old scores. Because they will…count on it.” She flashed the Khonhim a grin. “Worst come to worst...pull a weapon on them. It worked for me.”

Chikkij shook her head, taking a long, calming breath before slowly rising to her feet. “Prime Minister...a part of me thanks you for all you have done,” she said quietly.

“And the other part?” Leandra prompted.

For the first time, Chikkij Kowzhach chuckled. “That part wants to beat you senseless.”

Singh guffawed. “Now I know I made the right choice,” she grinned, taking her by the arm. “Time to face your adoring fans…Prime Minister,” Leandra smirked, as she led her towards the Great Hall.

The trio was silent as they made their way up the small rise. As they arrived at the top Tango unslung the pack she was carrying, gazing out across the valley below.

“Hell of a view,” Musashi murmured.

“Yeah,” she agreed softly, before fishing a bottle out of her ruck and passing it to Graybird. He took the proffered spirits and cracked the seal, taking a healthy swig before handing it off.

Tango removed the brass urn from her pack as Musashi took a long pull of whiskey, wiping his sleeve across his lips as she walked to the cliff’s edge. She unscrewed the lid and poured out the ceremonial ashes contained within, watching them fall before the wind carried them away.

She felt a nudge at her side, pulling her from her reverie, turning to see Musashi offering her the bottle. Tango passed the urn off to Graybird before taking the proffered drink, letting the liquid fire slide down her throat.

Graybird resealed the empty vase as Tango closed her eyes, holding the bottle out, upending it and pouring the rest of the whiskey on the ground.

The three old warriors stood in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Tango stuffed the empty bottle back in her ruck, taking the urn from Graybird and shoving it inside. She stood gazing off in the distance as her teammates shared a glance, before turning and heading back the way they’d come, leaving her in solitude.

Tango wasn’t sure how long she remained at that spot, but finally she sighed, adjusting her pack, as she took one last look at the horizon.

“See you around, Whisper,” she said softly, before turning away from the cliff and walking back down the bluff to rejoin her comrades.

THE END