Chapter 5: Council
"How interesting. For some reason, I feel quite nostalgic today," a gorgeously stunning Mornan muttered softly, a breathtaking smile playing on his lips as he stared out the window of his simple office.
That same office was located at the very top of the largest structure on Paradis, easily towering over ten thousand feet high. A behemoth referred to as The Hold.
"…That's what you say almost every single day, Sir," said Ophilia, a female Remarta with flawless bright blue skin that glistened brilliantly in the suns rays. Her bright yellow eyes were complemented by her silky raven-dark hair that flowed calmly down her back.
A smooth thin spade-tipped tail swayed gently behind her as she lounged in the visitor's chair of the office, scrolling through Paradis's Social Hub site—which she built herself.
She was the Mornan's assistant, secretary, and one of his closest friends.
The strikingly stunning Mornan, Bastian, was the Sentinel of the N-0-A-1 Star System. Or the Prime Life Star System, as he liked to call it.
He was a White Mornan, with flawless snow-white skin and velvety silver hair.
His bright purple eyes turned towards Ophilia with a slight gleam.
"Do I? Oh my. I suppose my mind tends to linger on the past too much whenever I'm unoccupied," he mused as he rested a palm against the window.
"That's why I often try to keep myself busy."
Ophilia stopped scrolling on the device attached to her wrist for a moment as she looked up at him with a blank expression.
"You have over 1,240 documents waiting for your review, sir."
…
Bastian remained silent for several moments, then let out a small cough.
"Well… not that busy," he muttered. "What I meant to say was, I enjoy living in the present. Appreciating all the wonders life has to offer me, for as long as I can. It's far easier to ignore how suffocating it is that way."
He turned to Ophilia again with a smile. "You should learn to live in the present as well, my dearest Ophilia."
Then, his eyes widened slightly as he thought of something.
"Actually… no, wait, you shouldn't," he corrected, knowing she'd probably book the fastest flight out of Paradis, if she did.
"You should learn to live more in moderation. I still need you here after all," he said with a nod, pleased with his quick recovery.
His gaze returned to the horizon as a defeated expression crossed his features. "Tell me, Ophilia. Do you ever wonder how it must sometimes feel for the non-Renegade souls living in this vast and unforgiving universe of ours?"
"The ones who believe they have no power to change anything. And have only ever known the terror and chaos brought about by the Humans."
His tone grew distant. "I'd imagine life must feel quite hopeless for most of them, at times."
"After all, the Humans could succeed at any point and wipe out all life in this universe. They could even enslave us, like they did before."
He paused for a moment. "…Then, there's also those who don't dwell on things far beyond their reach or control. Who believe all of this is inconsequential."
"They live their best lives, as if the end of reality would be the same as every other day. To them, there's no difference in them dying tomorrow in a random accident, a sudden illness, old age—or to a Human."
He smiled faintly. "Sometimes, I wish I could be like that."
"But unfortunately, I know far more than both groups, and therefore must carry the burden that accompanies that knowledge. That is our job as Renegades. To give every species in the universe enough hope and drive to keep going, while they leave all their fears and worries to us."
"And yet… It seems we have failed once again," Bastian muttered softly as a sudden murderous aura emanated from him, causing the over ten thousand feet structure to tremble from the slight release of his Heart essence.
"Ronin! That... pest. To think a nobody like him managed to slip out of the Empire discreetly and make his way to this Galaxy. For him to cruelly massacre so many lives so silently. It fills me with so much rage," he growled angrily as his fists clenched.
Ophilia observed Bastian with a somber expression for several moments.
Eventually, she let out an audible breath. "Do you still intend on attending the meeting with the High Commanders to discuss what happened?" she asked curiously.
She had spent the last few hours organizing a meeting between the relevant parties as quickly as possible.
Bastian exhaled, his calm front returning.
"Of course I do. I am simply... stalling a bit. I already know how troublesome it will be."
His eyebrows drew together in a frown. "This universe is changing fast. And yet those old geezers are too stuck in their selfish ways to see reason."
Bastian thought of the countless bright lives that had been snuffed out for a long while. And then, he thought of the Renegade who had put an end to Ronin's terror.
"Still… I can't believe that the boy, Arbus, managed such a feat once again."
"And yet, the Council still seeks to suppress such a talent, simply because of his origins," he scoffed. "Even Nash. It irritates me to no end."
He strode towards the dark high table at the center of his office as his eyes raked over the opened files scattered across it. "The Emperor himself commanded us to let Arbus live as he wanted. And yet, I still have to fight tooth and nail just to make him a Sentry. It's quite shameful that some of them even wanted the boy detained after the second Reincarnator attack on Tarok—which he stopped," he said with a frown. "…And now he's in the spotlight once again, for killing another Reincarnator, no less. In a way, he's done more than I have. Considering I've only killed one myself," Bastian mused.
"That's just because you're lazy, Sir," Ophilia replied curtly.
Bastian coughed animatedly. "Anyways, I have to convince them of his worth to the Renegades this time, and why he should be allowed to ascend the ranks normally."
"It should be simple, given his achievements. But as I said before—those geezers are quite stubborn."
Finally, he turned to the pyramid-shaped clock on the wall.
"I suppose it's about time I head to the meeting. I think I kept them waiting long enough."
He glanced at Ophilia. "After it's done, I'll head to my study. I want you to bring Arbus and the Renegades I asked to escort him there."
Ophilia groaned slightly. "Why can't I just get someone else to do that?"
Bastian smiled pleasantly.
"Because you're my assistant."
He turned to a seemingly normal wall and moved forward, as it slid open to reveal a passageway.
Eventually, Bastian reached the corridor leading to the gathering room of the Council, a somewhat amused expression crossing his face as he observed the thirteen powerful commanders standing animatedly against the walls.
Each of them served as retainers for the Head Commanders currently waiting inside for his arrival.
They all bowed as they finally noticed his approach, some more than others.
He said nothing to them as he strode toward the door with a steady pace.
***
"That scoundrel. He must think it's funny to keep us waiting so long."
"Honestly, it's disheartening that a lazy brat like him had to be such a genius!" High Commander Oti bellowed with a scowl on his left face. He was a towering male aTer from the planet of Tar.
His race, the aTers, were known for their bright purple skin and three conjoined faces attached to their head on multiple sides: one in front for happiness, joy, contentment, surprise, and various other jovial feelings; one on the right for sadness, disappointment, despair, fear, and other melancholic emotions; and finally one on the left for anger, rage, annoyance, irritation, indignation, hostility, and other wrathful expressions. Thanks to the Sentinel, Oti's left face got the most use whenever he visited this moon.
"Give him a little more time. You know how he likes to arrive fashionably late," came Tera, the High Commander and Queen of the Remarta.
Her full, voluptuous figure was complemented perfectly by her raven-dark luscious hair that reached the floor, and a silver spade-tipped tail twice her size.
The meeting room they were occupying was a spacious silver chamber with a mundane and modest design, due to Bastian's peculiar tastes.
At its center stood a humongous pitch-black round table, where all twelve High Commanders usually sat around.
Besides Oti and Tera, there were eight more High Commanders present.
Tristan, the only other Mornan on the Council, besides Bastian. He had glistening silver skin and cascading blonde hair that reached his shoulders.
Silver Mornans ranked fourth in the hierarchy of the Mornan race, in terms of both strength and status, higher than white Mornans. That had not been the outcome in his case. He was Bastian's closest friend and eternal rival for over a decade now. He was the Head Commander in charge of every Mornan settlement in this star system.
Bel and Zub, twin rulers of the Shadon Collection, closely resembled shadows given solid form. They grew stronger together, a trait that had made it easy for them and past Shadon rulers before them to rise to the rank of High Commanders and beyond in pairs.
Iberia, High Commander of ten out of the seventy planets in the star system, was a Bocheander. A race of green, blob-like shapeshifters who could take any form.
He managed the trading network across every planet in the star system.
Aztec, an old Aurnex and the Head of the star system's Mesh department—responsible for crafting and managing the technology and weapons of the Renegades. Aurnexes bore a similar appearance to Mornans for the most part, the only differences being their extra pair of arms and eyes.
They were the most intelligent species in the entire universe, and the second most prominent race. Aztec was in charge of seven planets and twenty moons located in this star system.
Respen, the oldest member of the Council presently, and Head of the Renegade Investigative department in this star system. His overall build was similar to that of a Mornan, but his skin was made up of a metal-like substance. His face lacked any facial features.
His species, the Qus, communicated by sending thoughts straight into the minds of others.
Umber, the newest member of the Council. He hailed from a civilization on a moon, orbiting the remains of a once massive planet.
The very same remains Paradis circled.
His species was a relatively newly discovered one, that was officially recognized 200 years ago.
They could not survive without their moon's unique atmosphere, so a special suit—much like a spacesuit—had been crafted for them. Its glass was fully obscured, hiding his true form beneath.
And finally, Nach Grimm, the chief and leader of the Tarokian race in this system.
His bright red skin and towering figure were features of his race.
His dark hair was plagued by countless grey strands brought on by his old age.
He was the father of Angel Grimm, the disgraced princess of the Tarokians.
And the grandfather of Arbus Kaelen.
The last two High Commander seats were empty for now, left vacant after their previous occupants fell in a battle in another star system.
Creak!
"Sorry for keeping you all waiting for so long. I had, um… important matters to take care of," Bastian said with a smile as he walked through the door.
Oti's left face scowled as he watched Bastian stride over to the head of the table.
Bastian took his seat as his smile suddenly faded.
"Now, shall we begin?"