Posted by Fleet Captain Kelly Bordeaux (Commanding Officer) in Kublia Tais- Capital World of the Galactic Union -Four weeks prior to the arrival of the Elders… When the past doesn’t match the present or the future
Sunlight bathed the occupants of the room in a warm buttery glow. The glass was designed specifically to make it appear as if sunbeams were drawn to each of the people sitting around the table giving anyone looking at them the impression of an ethereal glow. The impact was lost on those around the table but to anyone else in the room, the scene denoted an almost tangible presence of power and spirituality. One seat however seemed to almost radiate from the sunlight. This seat was held by the Rectoress: The one woman that held dominion over every life in the Galactic Union.

She wore a gown of white that while appeared to be simple had taken hours to tailor. The bodice clung tightly to her torso attached to what looked like a floor-length pencil skirt. The material was fitted so perfectly it appeared as if it were a second skin yet when she walked the fabric of her dress became more voluminous giving the impression the Rectoress floated instead of walked. The pure white fabric also held filaments of opalescent thread which reflected the light making the Rectoress appear to elicit a shimmering aura with every step or flick of her hand. The only jewelry she wore was an ornate necklace of gold in the filigree style of their language with the words faith, hope, and love stacked on top of each other to make it appear like an upside-down triangle.

A perfectly manicured nail, painted in an opalescent white, tapped the arm of the golden throne on which she sat. The woman was icily beautiful with jet black hair, piercing jade eyes, and a creamy flawless complexion. The face and body appeared ageless except for the small lines beginning to meander from the corners of her eyes. The weight and strain of her position in the Galactic Union caused the Rectoress’ lips to pull into a perpetual straight position where they were neither smiling nor frowning. Today, however, the red lips dipped at the corners matching the simmering fire raging in her eyes.

“And why am I just finding out about this now?” Her voice cut through the room like an icy breeze. No one dared speak or offer a reason. Senators and protectorates alike looked everywhere but at the woman on the throne staring back at all of them. On some level, she found it amusing. The pompous peacocks were always strutting about with their shrill voices and colorful rhetoric when blame was to be placed on someone else. When the fault was theirs, the men and women in the room cowered like small children in a thunderstorm.

The soft and slippery woosh of the pneumatic door opening drew her attention a half-second before the entering occupant spoke. “Because every person in this room has forgotten their duty to the Divine.” His steps and gait were strong and purposeful radiating an almost tangible ripple of power and control throughout the space. All eyes snapped to the man entering. All words hovering on the lips were choked back. Fear and foreboding rose up in the room like a mist causing most to suppress a shiver as he walked past them.

Adar Vyce was the Supreme Commanding General of the Galactic Union. His reputation was well earned in the Union. He had risen among the ranks in his career from a teenager in the regimental corps to becoming the last and final voice of the military. He was the visual opposite of the Rectoress. Vyce was clad in all black, with boots polished so immaculately they appeared like liquid onyx. Only his cape and a few small metal bars to denote his rank separated him in theory from his men; however, only the Rectoress’ face was more well known. The yellow eyes, pale-bluish skin, and snow-white hair framed a stony, craggy visage marred with scars that crisscrossed his face from battles long since fought and won. The most striking was a long gash that ran from his hairline to his left cheekbone diagonally. His presence sucked the noise in the room as if it were the vacuum of space. No one moved, praying the General’s attention would not fall upon them.

“Never stop your enemy from sliding off the path of enlightenment. It will only allow one to defeat them faster for their own stupidity for those that do not fight with the passion of the Divine will rot in the oblivion of hell.” Adar Vyce barked out the creed of the military and the motto before falling to one knee with his head bowed. The movement was sharp and crisply honed from years of practice. He held it just long enough to pay due homage to their leader before erecting himself. “Rectoress, I have assembled a small exploratory task force. Grant me the blessing to lead one hundred divisions of our most faithful to this Milky Way Galaxy to rescue the Elders and return the Prism.” Normally stoic and stern, Adar’s voice and gaze projected the fanaticism on which the Galactic Union was based. Vyce was a devout man, serving the Union with a passion few could match. This was different though. It was an unbridled excitement that only years of training could contain and one voice could quash.

Rectoress of the Galactic Union