Come gather 'round people

Wherever you roam

And admit that the waters

Around you have grown

And accept it that soon

You'll be drenched to the bone.

If your time to you

Is worth savin'

Then you better start swimmin'

Or you'll sink like a stone

For the times they are a-changin'.

Bob Dylan - “The Times They Are A-Changin'”

“Nassat, will you please stop fidgeting?” Raichret said exasperated, as she readjusted the starburst medal hanging around his neck. “You look splendid in your new uniform if you’d just leave it alone.”

Nassat sighed in resignation as Minister Singh and Marshal Antuma shared a chuckle at his plight. “I don’t understand what the issue is, Captain,” Leandra said with a grin. “You were perfect at the ceremony. You should be proud.” She smiled at Raichret. “And having your betrothed present the award was the pièce de résistance. TNN’s numbers will be huge this cycle.”

“Minister, while I appreciate the Tetrarchy’s recognition, I would have much preferred to stay an inconspicuous sergeant,” Nassat said. “I do not deserve this promotion, nor do I deserve this medal.”

“Captain Nassat, what you think you do or don’t deserve is immaterial, I’m afraid,” Antuma chimed in. “First off, I don’t think you’re seeing your accomplishments objectively, and second…we need you to be a hero.”

The newly promoted and decorated Saurotaur winced at the word “Hero”. “I only did my duty, Sir,” Nassat said, “and I was very lucky.”

Leandra shook her head and leaned forward. “Nassat...for better or worse, you’ve been thrust onto a much bigger stage. I’d apologize for that if it weren’t for the fact it was my insistence…and Marshal Antuma’s...that put you there. Even though the ceasefire is holding, for now, we are in a much more dangerous position than we ever were...and that’s where you come in.”

“I do not understand,” Nassat replied. “I am merely a soldier. There are thousands of others just as deserving of these honors...perhaps even more so. Could we not give it to one of them?”

Antuma burst out laughing. “Certainly...if you can find me another soldier who single-handedly captured the Khonhim commander, thereby helping to end the war. Consider yourself fortunate we didn’t make you a General.”

Nassat blanched in horror. “You wouldn’t, Sir...would you?”

“In a heartbeat, Captain,” Antuma said, as all traces of humor left his face. “The Minister is correct...the current situation is more perilous now than it ever was, even though the fighting has stopped. And you, my friend, are our secret weapon.”

“Me?” Nassat squeaked.

“Yes, you,” Leandra informed him. “We humans are all too familiar with this kind of situation, thanks to our rather colorful past.” She leaned back in her chair and regarded him. “Tell me, Captain, now that the Khonhim have ceased their attacks and are negotiating with us to end the war, what do you think happens next?”

“I...had assumed they would return to their homeworld,” Nassat stammered. “We would focus on rebuilding what we lost, and begin disbanding our military since it is no longer needed.” He paused for a moment, as he considered that. “Perhaps we would keep a token force, just in case.”

“Oh boy,” Minister Singh sighed, rolling her eyes, “have you got a lot to learn about how things work in the real world.” She waved her hand as Nassat began to object. “I don’t mean that the way it sounds, but I stand by it. Let’s say you’re correct, that the Khonhim return to their home planet...assuming we allow them that. What’s their next move?”

Nassat blinked. “I...do not know,” he admitted. “I would hope they would see the error of their ways and chart a new course for their society.”

Leandra snorted. “Hope all you want...but I can tell you right now that will not happen. Nassat....ten thousand years ago they were all but exterminated, and they’ve been nursing a grudge ever since. This was just a setback. If we allow them to return home, they’ll begin rebuilding and rearming all over again...and the next time we see them, they’ll be a hundred times nastier than they are now.”

He suddenly felt physically ill. “Are you saying our only course is to...finish what my ancestors started?” Nassat looked to Raichret for support, but she showed no consternation at this possibility.

“Not necessarily...but I won’t lie to you Captain, it could well happen,” Antuma said. “At the very least we must keep a close eye on them, which means building up our forces to even greater levels, with even more powerful ships and deadlier weapons...and keep it there, for generations to come.”

“And that, my dear,” Leandra said as she turned to Raichret, “is where you come in.”

“Me?” she squawked, echoing Nassat’s own earlier reaction.

Singh nodded. “You were the very first Triumvirate citizen to volunteer for military duty,” she said. “We looked into your background, and we’ll be relying on you to encourage others to enlist, to help foster a new tradition, one of service to the Tetrarchy.”

She and Nassat stared at each other in shock, as they felt the walls close in. “And if we refuse?” Nassat asked.

“That would be unfortunate,” Leandra said, “but I think we can help you both to see reason. Honestly, what did you think your future held? After all the publicity...and believe me, we’re just getting started with that...did you think you could retreat into the woodwork? Retire to a farm, raise a family in quiet anonymity?” A wry smirk appeared on her face. “Or perhaps return to your old Order and take up the robes again? I know the Venerable Eashray came to see you, hoping you’d do just that.”

Nassat looked like he had tasted something sour. “No...not that,” he said in disgust. “I told him...that was no longer an option.”

Leandra chuckled. “In fact, I believe you used some rather colorful language to send him packing,” she grinned. “I can only assume you learned those phrases from us humans...no Saurotaur ever told someone to ‘Stick your offer where the sun doesn’t shine’.” Nassat flushed with embarrassment, as she shrugged. “As much as you might wish to find some secluded corner of the galaxy to live out your lives, it’s not in the cards, I’m sorry to say.”

“You cannot order us to play these roles,” Nassat said with a hint of anger, holding Raichret’s hand.

“In fact, we can,” Antuma replied. “You’re both still in uniform...and if you check the fine print of your enlistment papers, you’ll see they read ‘For the Duration’. To be blunt...the war is over when we say it’s over.”

“Look...we’re not the bad guys here,” Leandra said before Nassat could work up a hot retort. “I know how all this must sound to you...and if you’re seeing this as a kind of prison sentence, I’m sorry to say there’s some truth to that. But we’re not here to threaten you, or force you to bend to our will, though you may wish we had.” She graced them both with a melancholy expression. “No...the chains I’m ensnaring you with are far more insidious, I’m afraid.”

The Minister rose to her feet and went to the Saurotaur pair. “Nassat, Raichret...we need you. The Tetrarchy needs you. Your people need you...even more now than they did before the war. I can find anyone to carry a rifle, or treat the wounded...but there is no one else at the moment who can offer us what you can, in terms of publicity and morale. Like it or not, it’s your duty. Both of you.”

Nassat had been moments away from taking Raichret’s hand and storming out...but the word “Duty” brought him to a crashing halt. His heart sank as he recognized the trap before him...and realized there was no way they could avoid it. “This is to be our life then?” he asked. “Forced to be forever pulled by your strings? A mere performer for your publicity campaign?”

“It won’t be all bad,” she assured him. “I can guarantee you two will have the biggest wedding the Triumvirate has ever seen. You’ll lead parades, your faces will be everywhere, and there won’t be a single citizen that won’t fawn over your every word, and wish they were you. And in time, with luck and barring a catastrophe...someday you’ll have my job.”

Raichret shivered...and not from the cold. Nassat held her close as he glared back at the Minister. “And you are that certain you can maintain your grip on us, even then? When we could walk away, with no one to stop us?”

“No,” Leandra said quietly, “because by then, you will understand the necessity of it...just as I do.”

A foreboding silence filled the room as they dwelled on that until Antuma spoke up. “There’s another reason we need you Nassat...two, in fact. Tell me, how would you describe the Khonhim? Being completely honest, I mean.”

The sudden change in topic gave him pause, as he considered his answer. “Warlike, all too comfortable with bloodshed...even barbaric,” he said at last.

The Marshal nodded in agreement. “Remind you of anyone?” he probed.

Nassat flushed. “Sir, I did not mean to imply…” he began, as Antuma waved his apology aside.

“It’s all right...we humans can acknowledge our own shortcomings,” he said. “The thing is, we have a lot in common with the Khonhim...too much, in fact. Now that we are creating a military again, after all these years, there will be those who will want to use it...and what better enemy to test our mettle against than them? It wouldn’t take much to set us off either...and if that happens, all bets are off. We could end up destroying everything we’ve worked so hard to achieve...unless there is someone who belongs to neither camp who can act as mediator.” A dry chuckle passed his lips. “Someone civilized to keep the two barbarian tribes from slaughtering one another.”

“But...it sounded as if I was to be nothing more than a figurehead,” Nassat stammered.

“At first, perhaps, but that won’t last,” Antuma explained. “It can’t, not if there will be anything resembling long term stability...which brings us to the second reason.” He nodded at Leandra, who picked up the thread.

“Less than a year ago they treated humans like unruly children in the Triumvirate,” she said. “Fear of the Khonhim changed the equation...and we shamelessly took full advantage of it. We’ve leveraged ourselves into the preeminent role of this new society, but now that the war is ending there will be those who will demand a return to the status quo.” She paused for a moment, and then said, “I can assure you that is not happening. We earned our new position, and we are not giving it up. Not without a fight.”

Nassat barely repressed a shudder. “So...we have simply exchanged one threat for another?” he said in despair.

“I hope not, Nassat, but like Kwasi, I too know my people. Once we get our hands on power, we don’t give it up…unless there is someone there to speak for the other races. Someone they trust. Someone who’s proven themselves strong enough to stand against even the most formidable of enemies. And...that’s you.”

“How can you place all of this on my shoulders?” Nassat demanded. “I am only one being, and even with Raichret at my side, I cannot do all that you demand of me.”

“You must gather people you trust, of course,” Antuma nodded. “Build up your own power base, one separate from ours. In fact...I believe I can help with that,” he smirked, before pressing a hidden button. “Show him in, please,” he spoke into the intercom.

The doors slid open, as a human in uniform marched in, coming to a halt in front of the incredulous pair of Saurotaurs. “Sergeant Jehiel Lin reporting for duty, Sir!”

Nassat stared in shock. “You? But...you’re human.”

“Think of me as being on indefinite loan,” Lin said with a smile. “Besides...you’ll need someone to teach you all the dirty tricks they’ll throw at you,” he said jerking his head towards the other humans. “Unless you’d rather not have me on your staff.”

Nassat rose to his feet. “Nothing would honor me more than to have you at my side,” he said, suddenly overcome with emotion. He held out his hand in the human way, as Lin grasped it firmly. “I will find it difficult to have you calling me ‘Sir’, however,” he admitted.

“You’ll get used to it…Sir,” Lin smirked.

After all the hammer blows they had hit them with, Raichret could no longer contain herself. “But...we won the war,” she blurted out. “How can it end like this?”

Marshal Antuma sighed. “We only won the first battle,” he corrected her. “The war, I’m afraid, is just beginning.”

THE END