“My lady, the third company has been forced to pull back past the valley of Tyr because of intolerable losses of men and equipment.”

A man spoke solemnly, clad in dusted and dirtied robes with a well-groomed grey beard and down turned eyes, finishing his report and saluting deeply before sitting down.

As the grey bearded man finished his report, a man to the left of him with back slicked and well-kept black hair spoke up loudly. Lacking a beard.

“What? That means the tenth company’s flank will be exposed. They can’t hold two fronts with their current forces. We have to reinforce them.”

He pointed a finger towards the holographic map that led to the valley of Tyr, just east of the tenth company. His face slightly twisted into a frown, barely discernable, but enough for those around the table to notice.

“My lady, I highly advice against reinforcing the tenth company. The empire has a knack for finding out where our transports and convoys are heading, and the looming threat of- impossible ambushes, would make the journey a high risk, low reward situation.”

A third man spoke eloquently, bald with no facial hair to speak off, even lacking eyebrows, sporting a mask of true neutrality as he stared up at her. Having taken a slight pause in his speech as he said the word “impossible”.

And she, she listened intently to the three of them, sporting her own mask of neutrality. Looking at the bald man as he finished speaking, the way he said impossible, not going over her head. Her elbow resting on the holographic table, whilst fingers played mindlessly with a small coin, golden with a lackluster glimmer, old as it was. Her eyes held the bald mans stare with no signs of moving away. She couldn’t. She was their leader, after all. She could never show weakness.

A fourth man spoke up, giving her an excuse to look away from the bald man as the fourth man warranted her attention. A man with bright red hair and an equally red, but unkept beard, highly unusual for a man in such a high position. Though she didn’t promote people for their appearances.

“If you suggest against reinforcing the tenth company, then what are you suggesting? If the tenth pulls back, we will leave the rest of our attacking forces wide open for the enemy to counterattack. In no time at all, the rest of the army will easily be out circled and overrun. We can’t pull the tenth back, but you’re also saying we can’t reinforce them.”

The room focused in on the bald man, a slight tension in the air as the red-haired man stared with an intensity that spoke of irritation. Bag underneath his eyes spoke of irritation not completely under control. Though, the bald man kept his mask neutral, no inclination towards any cracks in his facade.

“I dare not suggest anything, as that is for our lady to decide. I merely speak the facts as I know them. And the facts shown, show that our attack on the empire’s frontline had been going surprisingly well, and considering that we’ve yet to hear of more enemy ships entering orbit, I highly doubt the rest of the empire puts any import on this planet.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly at that, knowing full well that everyone in the room already knew this. Why would he bring it up then? Her eyes narrowed unconsciously, for amongst all the men around the table, she knew the bald man was the one who knew best how to use their words.

But she would not be the one to question him. Instead, the honor went to the black-haired man, as he spoke with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Yes, isn’t this why we did a frontal assault in the first place? If the report is to be believed, the enemy is trying to recruit numbers from the populace and therefore, must be lacking troops. If the propaganda posters are anything to be relied on.”

“Exactly. Our enemies may have the firepower, the artillery and orbital firepower. But they lack the men to sustain the fight. We have that, thanks to the tireless work of our outstanding leader.”

The bald man quickly inserted himself, then bowed deeply towards her as he gave a smile as fake as hers. She nodded to him, smiling faintly but gesturing for him to continue, for continue she knew he would. His smile quickly subsided as he spoke up once more with a face of neutrality.

“As you all know, we’ve ridden the highes of our rebellion since its inception by using clever maneuvering and guerrilla warfare, thanks to the power of the radio and a fervent army, leading us to a powerful position. One with a population, and planet on our side.”

He paused for a moment, looking out over everyone around the table before speaking up a little louder.

“But, as I see it, we’ve not utilized said population.”

The bald man turned away from her, voice going louder as he turned to the others around the small table, inside a big tent, hot and dry, smelling sweaty and damp. Her fingers continued spinning on the coin, but her attention grew focused on the bald man as he spoke more.

“I believe we would have already won, if not for the actions of the Varangians.”

Simple words spoken, turning a hot room chilly. One word holding so much power that it was almost forbidden. It was as if he was about to summon the boogyman.

“Because of the Varangians, the tide of war almost seems tilted in our enemy’s favor. Because of them, we can’t properly supply our lines. We can’t properly reinforce nor can we ever, EVER, feel safe. We should be seven in this room, but instead, we are five.”

The bald man grew quiet at that, closing his eyes as he uttered a silent prayer for the fallen. The rest of the room followed, even she, though she did not know the words fully.

As the silent prayer ended, the red-haired man spoke carefully with narrowed eyes.

“We already know this. Don’t talk like a politician and get to the point.”

“Very well. We know the Varangian’s weakness, their lack of numbers. If the reports are correct, we are facing three to five Varangians, far too few to cover an entire battlefield. What I’m suggesting is that we gather our forces and recruit volunteers from among the populace that are willing, arming them with what we can spare. Then, we do a frontal assault on the entire enemy line until the enemy breaks, where we will-“

“ARE YOU MAD?! Do you know how much bloodshed- how many people will die in such an attempt?!”

The red-haired man flared up in anger, standing up and slamming his fist down on the table. Bringing shame to his name, but ignoring it, for it isn’t the first time he’d done something like this. The grey bearded man looking slightly shocked at the proposition, while the black-haired man looked disapprovingly at the red-haired man.

And she? She did not like where this was going.

“No, I’m not mad. I just know that if we continue in the direction we are already heading, the Varangians will do to us what we did to them at the beginning of the war. In the long run, we will lose like this. For Oden’s sake, the third company pulling back is squarely because a Varangian attacked them, and not just any Varangian, but hel’s chosen. You know this too! We can’t sugar-coat it!”

The red-haired man clenched his teeth as the bald man stared defiantly up at him, the two staring deeply into each other’s eyes. Tension palpable. The red-haired man first to speak, slowly, almost as if using words to hold himself back.

“I’m not saying that the Varangians aren’t a problem. I’m saying that we cannot force our men and civilians into a planned suicide! Thor smite me, but I cannot let you speak of the best way to kill our people without opposition.”

“Then what do you suggest we do? If we want a chance at victory, we must be willing to sacrifice. Oden knows we have sacrificed more than we want, and yet we aren’t any closer to victory!”

“Yes, we have made sacrifices, but never with the intention to force them into their death!”

The red-haired man screamed back, face turning a shade of red as spittle flew across the table. The bald man remained calm, neutral, yet passionate as he shouted back.

“And look where it’s led us?! If we at high command aren’t willing to make the hard choices, then we will never stand a chance against our enemies, or the Varangians!”

The two seethed towards one another, anger clear on the red-haired mans face, a vein pulsating on the forehead of the bald mans otherwise neutral face. She looked on impassively, still rolling the coin around nimble fingers.

The red-haired man opened his mouth to speak, and she could immediately tell that this meeting would soon delve into a screaming match with no substantial benefit. Therefore, she did what she did best.

“Ahem.”

A simple cough, bringing the attention of the room towards her in an instant. The red-haired man swiveled his head towards her, anger clear in his eyes, staring with rage at whom had dared to stop him from spewing the truth. But as he saw her and her almost tired looking face, staring deeply back at him, he could do not but cringe, before quickly stammering.

“I-I’m sorry, my lady.”

She did not speak, instead, gestured for the man to sit. And sit he did. Then she gestured for him to continue speaking.

And speak again, He did, after taking a long and deep breath. While he calmed down, she turned her attention towards the rest of the table. The black-haired man looking between angered and contemplative, ill hidden. The grey-haired man seemed unsure on how to react, tired as he looked.

And as she turned towards the bald man, she blinked in slight confusion as she saw simmering anger, quickly replaced by a facade of neutrality. She blinked until the red-haired man spoke up again.

“I did not want to bring these plans up to this meeting, as I have not fully planned them out yet. But as you’ve so eloquently put it, we are in deep shit.”

The red-haired man paused, rubbing a muscled hand atop his weathered forehead, rubbing at it as he spoke with a slight hint of hesitation.

“I’ve written up plans for a way to deal with our Varangian problem once and for all. Without needless sacrifice.”

The red-haired man finished, stating the last words as he looked over at the bald man with anger hidden in his eyes, remaining calm. The bald man raised an eyebrow, lacking in hair, and spoke slowly, almost as if speaking to a child.

“And what plan, is this?”

“We will set up a trap for the Varangians.”

“A trap? One we’ve already tried once before. That failed miserably? Leading to the death of a battalion of our most elite troops with nothing to give for it?”

“I’m not a fool. I figured a trap would not work twice, especially one as obvious as the last. No, what we need is a trap that contains a bait so valuable that the Varangian’s will have to fall for it, even if they know it’s a trap.”

He said, punctuating his last word by crossing his arms, narrowing his brows and looking contemplative. She listened, and the coin around her fingers stopped. She listened, and she thought. Really thought. A second passed, and he spoke once more.

“Though what bait we could use, I still have not found. We’ve tossed the idea around of faking a secret weapon. Though, as the enemy seems to know more about us than we do, I doubt that would work.”

“And when do you think you’d complete this, “plan” to take down the Varangian’s?”

The bald man quickly asked, and the red-haired man seemed stumped for an answer. Massaging his beard ruffly, he grumbled loudly before slowly speaking.

“I think we’ll both find bait and complete the trap in about a month’s time.”

“A month? You think we have that time?”

The red-haired man looked unsure for the first time in this meeting, glancing over at her before answering.

“I do, if we secure our positions and maintain our standing amongst-“

“Secure our positions? Did you not listen at the beginning of this meeting? The men are fleeing! We are not in a position to wait, we must act! And act now!”

The bald man paused, looking over at the red-haired man, a tinge of anger creeping up in his voice. His arm shot out, a wide gesture before speaking more.

”We have to act now, for the very men we are supposed to lead are disobeying orders. And why? They heard from someone that hel’s chosen is coming to the battle!”

The bald man shouted out uncharacteristically, staring with furrowed brows at the red-haired man. A tense silence, broken as the bald man continued speaking, pointing fingers around the room.

“You all simply turn your heads down and pretend that the Varangians, and more importantly, hel’s chosen, aren’t as big of a problem as one would think. You don’t see as the soldiers cower behind sandbags, unwilling and unable to fire a single round because of the knowledge that maybe, MAYBE hel’s chosen are out there, coming to collect them for their final rest.”

“Pamphlets and videos of hel’s chosen going berserk on the battlefield is running rampant amongst our men and civilian populace. The very notion of going into battle petrifies our soldiers. Our caravans refuse to take important cargo, for they know they are prime targets for Varangian raids, and having their souls collected by hel’s chosen. Our recruiting offices are losing interest by the hour and our weapons dealers are refusing to work with us in fear that they, too, will be targeted by the Varangians.”

The bald man pushed a finger down on the holographic table, making it shimmer slightly while the bald man spoke almost fervently, a simmering anger hidden in his voice.

“If we wait, we will let a fire of disorder continue to spread. Disorder that soon, and mark my words when I say soon, will turn into a wildfire of chaos and discontent.”

His finger continued pressing, but he slowly, ever so slowly, stood up, leaning over the table and up and over the red-haired man.

“We must force our men, our soldiers and, most importantly, our people into battle before it is too late. We must be willing to make the tough choices, the sacrifices, for the betterment of everyone.”

He said and paused, looking away from the red-haired man as he looked over at the dark-haired man and grey-haired man. Each staring at him introspectively. One nodding along, the other looking unsure, almost timid.

“Did we not start this rebellion to overthrow the empire? To save those that can’t save themselves. To stop the empire from killing our sons and daughters in insignificant wars.”

The bald man said confidently, staring at the two as he waited for them. Two nods, one more determined than the other. And as it did, he turned towards her, standing tall as he looked down on her, eyes narrowed as he spoke quietly, yet loud enough for everyone to hear.

“You didn’t start this rebellion to hold weak soldiers in your arms and whisper sweet nothings into their ear. Now did you, my lady?”

She looked up at him, staring deeply into his eyes as he stared deeply into hers. She did not relent her stare, just as he didn’t. Her eyes narrowed though, for she realized that her attempt at comforting a broken man had been exposed.

And now, she looked weak.

This did not look good.

The attention of the room turned to her, quiet as if the words spoken were a dagger to the throat. One person taking it literally.

In one swift motion, she raised her hand and stopped her shadow from doing something reckless, seeing a glimmer beneath his cloak as he held a pistol pointed in the bald mans direction. Reckless, for she knew if something had happened, it would not bode well for her, or her rebellion’s future.

Instead, she held the bald mans stare as the room held their silence.

A silence that stretched for several seconds before she spoke up.

“I hear what you are saying, and I agree with you. I did not start this rebellion with the misconception that no one would die.”

A smile crept to the bald mans face, stopped as she quickly spoke before he could.

“But I also did not start this rebellion with the intention of recklessly wasting lives. We will NOT, do a frontal assault on the enemy position. We will NOT, forcefully recruit the civilian populace. It’s reckless and stupid.”

She said easily, still staring into his eyes, holding them and speaking as if to someone younger, even as he was older.

“Let’s say that we break through the enemy lines with your idea, and even kill one, or all the Varangians, in the assault. We will still be too weakened to keep our power over the planet, and the losses will only dissuade any future prospective recruits to ever consider our cause. And then, once the empire learns of their defeat, will simply send out another flagship to easily crush what little forces we have left. It will be a classic example of pyrrhic victory.”

The bald man narrowed his eyes, clearly displeased with her response, though returning a mask of neutrality on his face, still standing.

“And how would you know this, my lady? Clearly, your leadership and decisions haven’t gotten us far.”

Her shadow moved slightly at her side, not enough to be visible, but enough for her to notice. She always noticed when he grew mad. It was hard not to when one had known another since childhood. Again, she gestured for her shadow to calm. Calm slowly he did, albeit not because he wanted to.

Turning back to the bald man, she sighed, sighing like a mother after their child said something stupid.

“I know this because I’ve studied warfare ever since I was a child. My entire life has been battles after battles, be they during training or in reality. I haven’t gone a year without seeing a man die.”

Her voice was measured, calm and neutral. Though it gained in volume as she continued speaking.

“I have trained as a soldier, I have trained as a commander, and I have trained as a general. I know what will happen if we use everything we got in a vain attempt at trying to defeat our enemies in one battle. If it weren’t for me, this rebellion would already be dead in its tracks the second the enemy flagship hovered over our heads.”

Slowly, she stood, holding the bald mans eyes as she stared deeply into them.

“I know civilians do not make good soldiers. I also know that men who see their fellow men die beside them; do not make good soldiers. If we force an entire army of ill fitted and ill-trained men into what will be like lamb to the slaughter. What’s left will be nothing but a broken army.”

The bald man bit his cheek lightly before he spoke.

“You’re avoiding responsibility, my lady. It is because of you that people are dying. It is your weakness and indecision that kills our people.”

Again, the room grew deathly silent. The shadowed man with a finger on the trigger.

Yet, she remained calm, like snow in winter. A face impassive like ice on a winter lake. Speaking with a tone that held no anger, no malice, no- indecision.

“Yes, you are right. It is my fault. It is my fault that I did not study Varangians more when I had the time. For Varangians are an entity that defies all military logic.”

She looked out over the others in the tent, going from eye to eye as she made sure that she held their undivided attention.

“Military logic dictates that a raid on a supply chain must come from a position where they either ambush or strike fast. There is always a chance for the defender to notice, if they are vigilant enough. A Varangian does both, at the same time. From angles and positions where no man can ever hope to detect them.”

She spoke matter-of-factly, indifferently.

“Military logic dictates that a backline is covered by their frontline. Yet, we commanders and generals hide beneath orbital cloaks and move within dirty tents each day to avoid being killed by a single Varangian.”

More passions seeped into her voice.

“Military logic dictates that a single soldier cannot change the outcome of a battle. Yet, hel’s chosen makes even the bravest men cower behind sandbags with a simple utter of their name.”

She pushed a fist down onto the holographic table, leaning forward, yet standing taller than the rest within the room.

“I am only human. I did not- could not have foreseen how much three Varangians would do to change the tides of a war that encompasses an entire planet.”

She paused, going from eye to eye as they mulled over her words. Turning to look at the bald-man, she spoke before the silence grew too long.

“But I know my mistake now, and I even agree with what you say. We must act. And act immediately.”

Her eyes shifted person, looking towards the red-haired man whom looked up at her with a stern face, though slightly admiring.

“We will pull back our attacking forces, using the tenth company as a rear-guard while merging the retreating third company with the tenth.”

Pointing down on the holographic table, she pointed at each company and how they would maneuver to follow her orders. An eyebrow rose as she checked that everyone around the table had heard and understood. A nod followed, and she continued.

“During the retreat, we will have a diversionary attack on the enemy at Tyr’s valley, a diversionary attack that won’t accomplish much, except for the fact that I will personally lead it.”

Her eyes turned to look over at the bald man.

“A trap, with a bait so temptatios that they simply can not, not fall for it.”

She paused for but a single moment, taking a slow, invicible breath before speaking in an almost whisper.

“A leader that cannot put themselves in situations where they put their soldiers does not deserve to lead.”

She stated simply before sitting down. And as she did, the room exploded into motion as all shouted out in shock and surprise. Chaos as they shouted at both her and at one another. A room divided in two, one arguing for, one against.

Though, the bald man didn’t argue. Instead, he sat down, staring at her silently. She didn’t stare back, instead, feeling a heavy weight pulling her down.

Yes, she knew that this wasn’t their only choice. She had so many more she could do. But deep in her heart, in her soul, the second she heard the red-haired man talk about his plan, she knew it was the only way to kill the Varangian’s with the fewest losses. And it had to be her that was bait, it had to be her that carried out the trap.

She just knew it had to be like this.

She leaned back, back so that her shadow could easily lean down, listening intently as she whispered into his ear.

“Meet me outside.”

He nodded in response, and she nodded back. Then she slammed her fist down on the table violently, pulling the loud tent to her attention. Seeing their attention on her, she shouted.

“This is not something we will argue. This is an order, and you shall carry it out!”

Then, in a normal talking tone, she spoke slowly, almost softly.

“In case I fail, die or am captured, I appoint councillor Frey as leader of the rebellion. This is final and cannot be changed.”

She looked down at the bald-man. Down on Frey as he stared up at her. A face of neutrality, broken in a complex woven web of emotion. She smiled, very gently, as she said.

“Frey, you may not be a military leader, or truly understand what it means to send people towards certain doom. But you have earned the heart of the people, and you know how to garner the support of the nobles, surfacing through their web of lies with allies on our side. You see suffering where we only search for solutions. Without you, we wouldn’t have come this far."

Walking, she left Frey standing mute as he stared after her. The three others in the tent quickly stood tall as they saluted, shouting out in unison.

“Fare well, my lady!”

She nodded at them, walking slowly yet determinately out of the tent. Her shadow following closely behind.

Though, as she lifted the cover and took a step outside, a voice stopped her.

“My lady!”

Looking back, she saw Frey with a step forward, face twisted into an unreadable expression, switching from one emotion to another before ending with a slow breath in, and out.

Then, he did what their ancestors would deem the highest honor, a show of respect to only the highest of kings.

He bowed down on one knee, leaving the back of his head exposed as he spoke with a certain tension in his voice.

“Fare well, my lady. May the heavens bless your journey back.”

She nodded, turned away from the tent, and moved out. A shadow following closely behind.

Out into sweltering heat and the smell of too many bodies close together. Tents packed like sardines and people milling about, doing what soldiers did when they had nothing to do.

Two soldiers on each side of the tent immediately saluted as she exited, rifles held close to their chests as they stared out at nothing. She nodded at them and then started walking rather absentmindedly. Her shadow taking up step beside her, looking around as if searching for potential threats.

Walking past tents and saluting soldiers. Walking with a slow pace, nodding to each man and woman that saluted her.

She looked up, up at the sky with a sun that shone intensely, warming a planet that was already too hot. She breathed in, and out, heavily when she felt no eyes on her. Glancing sideways, she met the eyes of her shadow, smiling gently as she spoke.

“I will need to ask a favor of you. One that you will not like.”

The shadow looked over at her, a weathered face, riddled with scars both old and new. He nodded, albeit hesitantly.

“I need you to stay here.”

“No.”

He answered immediately, and she smiled even though she tried not to. Again, she took a deep breath in and a deep breath out.

“Please. I need you to stay.”

“I cannot, my lady.”

Her smile slowly faded. Again, she breathed, a scant breath as she steeled herself.

“Then I order you too.”

Almost meekly, she looked over at him. A face met hers, one of immeasurable disappointment, and. Sadness.

“Please.”

“Why?”

He asked, brows furrowing deeply into a marked face, marked with age and weariness. A face that had done too much, experienced too much. She stared into that face and found that she could not stare for long. Looking away, she answered.

“If I die, I need you to activate the AI’s.”

As she wasn’t looking at him, she could not tell what emotions played out on his face. Though his silence told her much.

Eventually, he spoke, quietly, far too quiet.

“My lady, are you sure?”

Breathing in, breathing out, she spoke just as quietly.

“No, no, I’m not. But you still have to.”

Again, silence. Broken soon after as he asked a simple question.

“Why, my lady?”

And instead of instantly answering. She laughed. But not a true laugh, not one born of having a good time, or a laugh born from a pleasant surprise.

It was a laugh of insecurity. One she hadn’t laughed since she had lost everything.

“You know, I have already asked myself that question.”

Her laugh grew quiet as she glanced down on the ground. Red and brown, hardened sand from far too many feet stamping it down.

“I have pictured my death many times.”

She suddenly said, and her shadow grimaced. A frown, tender and sweet, one of a grandfather not wanting to see their grandchild sad. But she didn’t see. Instead, she continued speaking as she stared down on her feet.

“I have imagined dying from a sniper. Dying from a stray artillery shell, dying from an assassination, or a gunshot, or any number of things. So many possibilities of death that I’ve honestly stopped fearing death.”

She said, slowly, turning her head up to look at the vast sky above.

“Yet, through all those scenarios, through all the death I’ve experienced and all the devastation the empire has caused, through all the fear. I never imagined I would activate the AI’s.”

She paused, smiling. A fake smile.

“I can’t imagine how it would feel to die to a Varangian. The brutality is just so, unimaginable.”

She shook her head and closed her eyes.

“How can an AI be worse than, them? How can an AI be worse than, hel’s chosen?”