Weekly Drabble #187: TLA - For The Glory (Patreon)

This week we've got a bit of a treat, but before that - the drabble prompts are 'victory everlasting' from LystAiP and 'the other side was victorious too' from Pyro Hawk. I've had a bit of a brainworm on and off about the Calnian Hegemony for a while now, a few different ideas about them. This is one of them (which may or may not become canon - for right now it's just a 'what if?') I may end up doing at least one other take on them (or may not) so we'll see how things go. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

~

The Glory:

It is silent now.

That is not a good sign. No faint rumble of power coming from below decks nor the clinking and shuddering of the halting air circulation system. The last of our ship’s systems have finally failed.

I can already sense the atmosphere becoming heavier. It will get harder to breathe over the next few days and then... then there will only be silence aboard The Glory. Our one boon, if it is such, remains the size of the intact decks; it will take time for this now-unrecycled air to become toxic. There remains no possibility of repair, not with the damage to The Glory.

I continue to tell my survivors to endure and not to give in to despair, but I am aware that in all likelihood this log shall be found upon an unsouled wreck. I say otherwise for the sake of morale, but here I am able to speak the truth.

Soul-count remains as it was since my last record. Three hundred and seventeen survivors remain, but that number will descend as the unscrubbed air weighs heaviest upon the injured. I expect one third soul-loss within the next two days, with that number rising to totality before end of this eight-dawn. Rescue will not arrive in time. We are all going to die.

Some of The Glory’s pride already know this, but they keep it to themselves as I have. There is no need to cause a panic which will only deplete our limited air supply faster. I have never lied to my prides before, and it feels wrong to fade having done so now, but the faint hope of rescue must endure for their sakes.

We have lost communication with Sacrament. Pride Commander Ushab’s last report was of severe structural distress and he feared an imminent bulkhead collapse that would destabilize and breach Sacrament’s intact regions. It seems as that fear was justified.

In preparation for that, he requested that his spouses be informed of his love for them. He also collected short messages from Sacrament’s survivors to be passed to the named recipients. I have appended this documentation to this log. I believe I shall follow Pride Commander Ushab’s example and ask the same of my pride, especially now that total soul-loss appears inevitable. I am forced to wonder now that whether it would have been better to die directly in the flare and heat of battle rather than cling to life aboard a hulk, thinking of a rescue that in all likelihood will not arrive in time.

Would it be better, I wonder, to die like Ushab and his pride – a minute or two of agony in the void before the fading light? Or like we aboard The Glory, breathing in our own toxins and thinning air for days until weariness puts us into the final sleep? Not all fates weigh equally in this calculation; I still remember the screams of Exaltation’s crew as they were boarded and overrun. Death comes to every soul; I know this. There is the manner of how it comes, though...

Speaking of such a thing, I believe that now is as good a time as any to make use of my Exception. My younger sister Min hopes to become an officer in the fleet. She has been inspired by Pride Commander Sōn’s example (and she has told me, my own). She is intelligent, keenly driven and would be an immeasurable asset to any vessel fortunate enough to have her. I have always been extremely proud of her and it cuts to my quick to utter these words, but I must. Her entry is to be rejected. She is not to be allowed to serve the Hegemon in any military capacity or by any measure that would see her placed in direct combat. That is my Exception, and I would see it honoured.

I will record a message for her later; I am starting to feel weary.

Eighty-eight against one. That is the equation that I was required to solve, and I have. We have achieved victory and driven The Trespasser from our space. I hold to that. I remind my crew of that. We did not break. Every soul upon these vessels will fade into the light, but we accomplished our mission. Victory is ours and none can take that from us.

In previous entries, I have spoken of the battle, but I wish to reiterate this for those who find these records. We did not break. Eighty-eight against one and though it cost the throne each of those eleven eights, we held the line. I have never been prouder to serve the Hegemon, nor seen such clear examples of the Mandate of the Throne. Eighty-eight fought and died. I knew all of those ships and all of the pride commanders who led them into this battle. The Trespasser was put to flight. It now knows of our resolve and our certainty in dominion. The Hegmon will not be cowed by unsouled machinery, especially unfleshed machinery.

We fought well. I want to make that clear. I have listed all the vessels and members of my over-pride who served with distinction above and beyond the call. Remember them, and remember us.

After Sacrament fell silent, we have had no other communications with any other vessels of the fleet. It is possible that I and my three hundred and sixteen remaining pride are the last survivors out of a quarter of a million of servicers and titled. Perhaps there are others who will be rescued. It will be good if some do survive.

We fought for the Hegemon and for the Mandate of the Throne, but we did so at great cost. Our souls will fade, and even our names may pass from knowledge, but the victory we have secured will ring throughout the Domain and from there to the entirety of our galaxy and birthright. Ten hundred worlds already beat to the sound of our drums. Soon it will be twenty. Thirty. Ten hundred hundred. It is a trite saying and one we have grown too used to quoting, but this victory proves it. We are inevitable.

I am proud to have played a part in achieving the destiny of our species, though the price be my life. It is a trade I would make willingly again even knowing what fate lies in store for me. Still, I would not see my sister pay it as I have. She will be spared the horror and the bloodshed of the unsouled beasts that oppose us and only know the plenitude and safety of the Hegemon’s peace.

I am growing tired so I must end this log. After I rest, I will speak to my remaining subsidiary titled and the pride itself to tally what remarks they wish to make to for this record. My next entry will contain them. I suspect it will be my last.

Our victory today is but the first step; The Trespasser has been driven back. Do not give it the chance to return, nor reclaim what we have died to take. Hound it. Chase it. Mark it for death. Never give it rest or pause until it is nought but scattered atoms or submits to our rightful dominion over these worlds. Honour our sacrifice with that and our souls will fade with light.

Supreme Pride Overseer Ijita, record close.

-recovered from the unsouled wreck of CHIS The Glory, command unit of Fleet Estir 91-3/88.