"Zarik, no matter what happens, I hope you can remain calm… I only pray that what I've done today will not become the beginning of the end for the Federation's century-old legacy."
General Kaelen spoke these words quietly, then slowly rose to his feet and walked toward the hatch, his steps faintly trembling as he descended the gangway.
Zarik stood in silence, eyes fixed on that departing figure, his gaze subtly quivering. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but in the end, swallowed the words.That silhouette stabbed deep into his heart—like a blade slicing open an old, unhealed wound long dried by time.
"This is the only way…"
he screamed silently in his mind,
"The only way for this Federation to have a future!"
He clenched his jaw, his expression growing increasingly bitter. A few crystalline drops welled up at the corners of his eyes, slowly trailing down with the tide of emotions—soundless, yet unbearably heavy.
The Longbow-class light cruiser's forest-green hull slowly rotated, its aft thrusters glowing brighter with a pale blue flame. At the precise moment it reached escape velocity, the entire warship flashed, vanishing into a streak of light that surged toward a distant stargate, deep within the star system.
He would never forget—that moment, at a hidden base somewhere in the depths of Federation space, when he stepped off that Longbow-class cruiser.
General Kaelen didn't say a single word. Just as he had done years ago at the academy, he reached out and smoothed the creases on Zarik's uniform.
The passage of time had already weathered the old general into a man full of age and weariness—but the years had also shredded his heart into a bloodied, raw mess.
...
"Lieutenant Colonel Zarik, welcome to Kagarde."
A soft yet clear female voice cut through the faint rumble of the docking bay, reaching his ears and pulling him out of the tangled web of memories.
Standing before him was a poised female officer, tall and composed. She wore a sharply tailored black dress uniform, the blood-red insignia on her epaulettes catching the overhead lights with a subtle gleam. Yet despite the aura of authority her uniform should have evoked, the calm smile on her face resembled more a quiet lamp glowing in the deep of night—so steady it was hard to look away.
"Laura Tang, Deputy Director of Intelligence, Kagarde Security Fleet." She introduced herself with practiced ease, her gaze as still as a lake but her voice bearing the unmistakable clarity and firmness of a soldier.
"Effective immediately, you will be taking over as Director of Intelligence. Please follow me to Fleet Command—someone is waiting for you there."
As she finished, she raised her right hand and gave a crisp salute.
Zarik returned the salute, his motion slightly stiff, as though his body had yet to fully shake off the inertia of old habits. He drew in a quiet breath, his eyes pausing momentarily on Laura Tang's face, then stepped forward to follow.
"The general… He puts me in a place like this and gives me a post like that. Just what is he planning?"
Zarik followed closely behind the female officer. The faces they passed were varied—some calm, some indifferent—but every time his gaze met those of the young soldiers around them, he felt it. A familiar and dangerous glint in their eyes—something that resonated with his own blood. It was a kind of burning faith, fierce and absolute, and he knew that scent too well. Once, it had been his.
He frowned slightly. A strange tightness gripped his chest, a sensation he had never experienced before—one not of memory or sorrow, but of fear. A fear that came from something unnamed.
"The General… He placed me in the most dangerous corner of the Federation,"
Zarik thought to himself, his eyes flickering between the resolute figure of the female officer beside him and the blood-red twin-headed eagle fluttering in the distance.
"What is your true belief, sir?"
Carrying that unspoken question, he boarded the shuttle alongside the officer. As the doors closed, the docking bay disappeared from sight, and so did the molten gazes behind them. But Zarik knew—they had not extinguished.
As the shuttle descended toward the orbital station, passing through the atmospheric veil, fire licked its hull from the friction. Yet what Zarik truly felt was not the heat from reentry—it was the blaze that lay below.
On that azure planet beneath them, beyond the veil of ice and cloud, there was something burning. Something fiercer than any faith written in the stars.
"Colonel, you've always been a role model to soldiers like us. Your bravery during the 'Azure Emerald' incident—it's what inspires us to keep moving forward."
Sitting across from him, Laura Tang finally broke the long-held silence in the cabin. Her voice was soft, but it carried the earnestness and reverence of someone speaking to a figure they deeply admired.
Zarik didn't answer immediately. He simply lowered his gaze and pulled an old cigarette case from the inner pocket of his uniform. With practiced ease, he flipped it open, took a cigarette, and twirled it lightly between his fingers.
Striking a flame, he lit it and took a deep drag. Smoke curled around him, casting shadows that deepened the lines on his face.
"There are no heroes,"he said slowly, exhaling a cloud of smoke. His voice was low and hoarse.
"I'm no role model. I was just one of the lucky ones… the ones who happened not to die on that planet."
He paused. The haze blurred his eyes from view, making it unclear whether it was the smoke or something deeper that veiled his expression.
"But there were many more people down there… who will never see the light of tomorrow again."
As he spoke, his gaze drifted toward the window, as if piercing the thick hull of the ship and seeing once more the sky before the fall.
"If I could go back to that moment, I'd rather not be a hero. I'd rather stop that tragedy before it ever happened. I came back alive, and the Federation pinned the word 'hero' on me."
He paused.
"But every time I close my eyes, all I see are the familiar faces from Azure Emerald."
He didn't finish the sentence.His voice seemed to sink into a depth where even echoes could not reach.
The woman across from him fell silent.From the weight in his voice, and the fleeting suffocating despair in his eyes, she felt the crushing history she herself had never lived through.
The words she had spoken earlier—words of admiration—now rang harshly in her mind.
She looked at the man before her, burdened by a past too heavy for any one person to carry, and saw in his eyes that momentary collapse, that breathless pain.A quiet shame began to rise within her.
She regretted bringing up Azure Emerald.Regretted the ignorant cruelty of pressing on a wound that had never healed.Regret painted slowly across her face.
As if reading her guilt, Zarik slowly turned his head toward her.
"You don't need to dwell on it," he said softly, without a hint of blame. Instead, his voice carried a weary kind of comfort. "It wasn't your fault."
He raised his head slightly. Smoke drifted from the corner of his lips, like memories that could never be touched.His eyes met Laura's, filled with a calm, enduring pain.
"In their propaganda, of course they only show you what a 'hero' is supposed to look like—glory, sacrifice, victory.It's the polished version, handpicked for remembrance and manipulation.But behind that word... the ones who never got to see tomorrow—they're just numbers in a report.Or worse, they're called a 'necessary cost.'"
His voice dropped with the final words, almost gritted through clenched teeth. There was a quiet fury in it—restrained, but unmistakable.
He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply from his cigarette, and turned his head toward the shuttle's window, falling into a long silence.
Outside, the contours of Kagarde Prime's landmasses were gradually coming into view.
"Azure Emerald was like that. So was Myuretan... And if you look back far enough, they've done it before," he said at last.
His voice was calm now, but there was something colder than rage beneath it—something sharpened by time and memory.
"Every time, they mask the cost with grand, hollow narratives about 'the era.' About sacrifice for the greater good. They bury the names and the pain beneath patriotic slogans and reports."
He paused, still watching the distant surface below.
"But tell me—who gets to decide who is 'the cost'?"
Laura Tang took a paper cup and filled it with warm water from the small dispenser at the rear of the cabin, then handed it to Zarik.
"Drink a little," she said gently, her tone softened with a trace of subtle concern.
"That's exactly why I support you."
She paused for a moment, her gaze fixed on the anger and sorrow that still flickered behind his eyes.
"Here on Kagarde, many soldiers understand you — and believe in you. So when General Kaelen proposed your transfer, Commander Alton Graver agreed almost without hesitation."
Zarik took the paper cup and held it in his hands. His fingers gently traced the rim as he fell into a brief silence before asking,
"So what exactly do you expect me to do in Intelligence? I'm just a fleet officer. I never studied anything related to intelligence work."
"For us, you don't need to do anything special. Our goal is to protect you."Laura Tang smiled meaningfully.
"As for what you really have to face… You'll understand once you meet that person."