Eirik was deeply annoyed. He had nothing to do. Every job was done, every weapon cleaned and put in storage, training schedules updated, supplies accounted for, and every other little job or task he could think of was already done. This left him with nothing to do. He hated it. Having nothing to do made him think about previous choices he made. And with those thoughts came doubts

Did he do the right thing? Make the right call? Had he made errors that had not yet manifested? Eirik sighed as he got up from the chair at his desk and made his way to the small bathroom, stopping in front of the mirror.

He looked at his own face. He was 35 years old and he saw the wrinkles that had started forming. The crows' feet near the eyes and the lines of worry that were slowly becoming etched into his forehead. There were new scars as well, they were probably souvenirs from his last few fights His eyes had changed. Where they once were open and full of life and happiness, they were now... not colder, but more guarded. Calculating. The eyes of an aging warrior.

And there it was. Aging. He was getting older and it was happening faster than he approved. He felt hands wrap around him from behind and leaned his head back against Freja. "I am getting older." He said. There was no regret or anger in his voice. Merely a statement of facts.

"I can tell, you are greying in the sides," Freja said with a smile as she fiddled with his hair.

"Not helping!" Eirik groaned "I hate getting older. I can feel it. Every year my movements become a tiny bit slower, I get fatigued a little easier, and I START PLANNING THINGS!!! IN DETAIL!! I never plan out things properly..." Eirik was actively pouting at the end of the last sentence.

"I think it makes you look distinguished," Freja said and started braiding his hair, swatting away his hands when he tried stopping her.

" You know I am going to straighten it out as soon as you are done. I always do." Eirik mumbled, accepting his fate as her life-size doll for the moment.

"I know, but I still love doing it. So what is really bothering you?" She asked,

"...How do I know I have done the right thing?" Eirik said after a long moment.

Freja stopped for a moment and looked at him in the mirror, "The right thing?? In regards to what?"

"Las'Tai and Trasti. Libertalia. Joining the wat right after being handed an Ex Machina out of it. Hunting Dalle. Take your pick?" Eirik listed off the things he could remember off the top of his head.

"Are you asking me if you have done right by being yourself?" The words could be taken as making fun of him, but her sincere look told him otherwise.

"I guess so.." Eirik chuckled "But I still worry. Not so much for myself, but for those that have chosen to follow me. Their well-being is tied directly to my ability to make the right choices as a state leader, and surrounding myself with good advisors to supplement my knowledge in the areas where I am lacking. My actions and choices will determine the fate of thousands upon thousands of beings... How do I know I am doing the right thing?"

Another deep sigh escaped Eirik, "I am doing my best, and when I have things to do, I can keep my mind occupied, but as soon as I get downtime like this, the doubts start creeping into my mind. And I cannot afford to doubt. Doubt leads to fear and fear paralyzes the mind. I can't afford to lose momentum, not for the next long while. Even when this business with Dalle is done, I cannot afford to relax. There is still the war effort and afterward, there will be the political fallout of seceding from the Terran Empire during wartimes...

HA, talk about a shitshow waiting to unfold. You can be sure their legal representation teams are having a field day in preparation for the tribunal hearing of all the races to 'allow me' to do what I have done. And I am going to have to do something no one has ever done before, in order to get away with all of this." Eirik looked over the finished result of Freja's braiding and he hated to admit that he actually liked the result. Small braids all being tied into a single large braid laid down his neck like a ponytail. It looked intricate without being overly feminine.

Freja spun him around by his shoulders and looked him deep in the eyes, her stare burning its way through his mental defenses and he felt her gauging his emotions. "And what is it you are going to have to do, love?" She asked.

"I am going to stand in front of the entire tribunal and tell them to suck it. That if they don't like it, they are welcome to send their armies, violating their oldest and most sacred non-aggression treaties in the process. The implications of doing so should be enough to keep those idiots bickering for 7-10 years at the very least." Eirik grinned as he continued, "And after the first year they are going to be busy trying to prevent splinter factions of their own from breaking out, once their people see that I get away with it. The chaos is going to be glorious!"

"An agent of chaos, forever and always," Freja said, smiling.

"You wouldn't love me if I was any different!" Eirik said and kissed her.

________________________________

Colonel Holm-Hansen was content. The war was escalating with Terra shipping out more troops, ships, and weapons with each passing day. They had been sluggish, the famous Terran temper far exceeding their initial ability to carry out any meaningful operation. It had taken time and had been difficult, but now the gears of war were turning once again. And oh, how they turned. Recruiting centers for the army could not keep up with the millions of young men and women practically demanding to sign up.

The navy was constantly demanding more ships, unable to make full use of the influx of volunteers and draft service members until they got said ship, and the factories were competing in begging and groveling to be allocated military contracts and the raw materials that came along with them to produce the war material needed.

The Kloxna was a formidable enemy, able to field uncounted millions of troops on the ground. But they were using ancient tactics. Infantry waves rolling against the enemy. While quite effective against an unprepared enemy, Terrans had perfected both the attack style and the defensive measures against it back in their early industrial era, during the first World War. But the Kloxna high caste was learning quickly. One among them, Tai'Tanu by all official reports, had taken to employing Terran mercenaries of unknown origin, letting them train her soldiers in guerilla tactics.

This had been a setback, but only a minor one, corrected in less than a week with a few choice orders and updates on security doctrines. But it still made hunting them down much more difficult. "Those damn lizards are fast and naturally camouflaged. They disappear into the undergrowth like a fart in the wind!" He thought to himself as he read the latest reports from the frontlines. "At least the ships and crews Eirik allocated to our supply lines have been doing good work." He mused.

He thought it strange, to think of his grandson as an equal. The thought had come so naturally, but the implications were enormous. "Was this your ultimate goal, Eirik? To cement yourself among the greatest of us, at your young age??" Benny wondered. He was immensely proud of Eirik, despite their current internal conflict. He would never try to take away from the things Eirik had accomplished in his young life.

"But what price are you paying, I wonder. You have been near death more times than your mother should ever need to know. I have read your prepared last will more times than any man should. And I have insisted on doing this because I am the reason you are how you are. I knew what I was doing, training you from the day you could walk as I did with your brothers.

But where they shine as individual soldiers, worthy of songs and legends in their own right, you shine as a leader and commander. My greatest achievement. The result of a Nordic bloodline traced back at least 500 years and distilled into a single man of indomitable will. You will rattle this known galaxy, but I fear you follow your own morals more than the ones we all agreed on..." Benny's thoughts were cut short as his private computer pinged with a message. He read the title and froze.

Hey granddad.