Chapter 28: Chapter 28: The Hour of Triumph

Not long after the final detonation, the remaining Republic garrison forces were quickly wiped out. The Imperials wasted no time securing the city, capturing any Republic prisoners they could find and finally tending to their own wounded and dead. Fires were put out and shattered units regrouped and counted their losses. Reserve troops marched into the streets and blocks and kept a watchful eye over the civilians. 

In the planet’s orbit, the remaining ships of the Republic fleet withdrew with most of their ships damaged but still intact. Once again, a battle between warships was different than a battle between two infantrymen. The latter could be decided in seconds. The former could take weeks if there was sufficient ammo and fuel. 

The Imperials did outnumber the Republic in terms of ships, but despite bringing down a handful of lighter Republic escorts by using bombers and heavy assault fighters to destroy their engines and then finishing them off with artillery fire and missiles, there was little they could do to keep the majority of the Republic ships, especially the larger ones with thicker shields and dense networks of point defense turrets, from simply jumping away. 

Even as the shooting stopped, the logistical nightmare for the victors had just begun. Officers of all levels counted and reported the losses within their units. Medics set up hospital tents and tended to the injured. A handful of combat engineers looked at the war-torn city, with its demolished buildings and burning streets, and wondered how long it would take before the city could be restored to even a fraction of its former appearance. Landmines deployed on the streets by the Republic defenders were carefully disarmed and removed. 

In the end, all the information about the current state of the city and the infantry division was passed to the head of the 329th Infantry Division, General Pierre, who then sent the reports to his own superior. As the general suspected, his superior was hardly happy with the results. 

“8,000 civilian casualties. Almost all of the local mining equipment destroyed. We will need to ship in new replacements from off-world, and even then planetary mining output may take weeks, if not months, to resume. And here I thought I can not have a lower expectation of the Imperial Army.”

General Pierre has always considered himself to be a man of good temper compared to his peers, but as he sat in his command center in the landed Raven-class command ship and listened to the scolding words coming from the hologram-projected figure, he could feel his cheeks turning red. The fact that he had all his colonels in the room with him certainly didn't help.

“With all due respect, commodore, it was the Republic forces who detonated the local infrastructure. There was nothing we could do to stop this. I lost thousands of men in the siege…”

On the hologram was a young woman in a naval officer uniform. She was in her mid-twenties. The general was at least a decade older than her, but she was talking to him as a superior. This was Commodore Thea, the commander of the 195th Silver Lance Fleet and the overall director of the Imperial campaign in the Diego System. 

“I don’t care about your casualties, general.” The commodore scoffed. Thousands of infantrymen? How much would it cost to replace them? Was it more or less than the cost to replace a corvette in her fleet? “My fleet has decimated the Republic armada over Diego Prime and secured the orbital shipyard with most of its production capabilities intact. We need the raw materials from Diego-Nine to start producing our own warships, and here you are telling me it will take at least weeks to resume mining?”

“We have bigger problems than just delayed mining, commodore.” General Pierre replied. “Mining equipment isn’t the only thing we desperately need here. The Republic garrison blew up many components of the city designed to sustain its people. As of now, the local population has little food and water. They don’t even have enough energy in reserve to keep the heaters on. We will need immediate supply runs if we want to keep the local population alive. If we don’t get these supplies, the question becomes if we can resume resource output, not when.”

“How many people do you have to sustain?”

“Around 90,000 civilians. My men are still taking an inventory of the resources available, but apparently, most of the supplies delivered to and stored on the planet, from food to water to mining equipment, belong to a Republic corporation. The corporation kept everything in one place under lock and key…and everything got blown up.”

Commodore Thea frowned. She knew enough about the United Republic of Dorn to know corporations held a large sway in the republic. It was unsurprising that a company would hold the most power on a remote planet like Diego Nine. Hell, the orbital shipyard on Diego Prime didn't even belong to the Republic. It was a piece of property of the Lemma Corporation, one of the main defense corporations in the Republic. 

She was uninterested in how things were on the planet or how the people lived, but the results of the corporation’s influence on Diego Nine presented her with quite an issue. 

Logistics was always a huge issue in interstellar warfare. Hell…the first lesson for any admiral was logistics. It took an obscene amount of resources to transport supply to a different system, much less a different sector. The further the ship had to travel, the more space it had to use to carry fuel and the less supply it could carry. The solution was obviously to send bigger ships that could carry more cargo each trip, but bigger ships also cost more fuel to move and were more expensive, so…

It was common to see situations where a thousand Venya dollars were spent to transport one Venya dollar of resource to where it was needed. Producing the resources was never much of an issue. Transporting the resources, on the other hand…

This was also why it was so important for systems to more or less be self-sustaining. Diego Prime produced warships using the minerals from Diego-Nine. The people of the system were mainly fed with food produced on Diego Secondary. Sure, it was possible to bring in raw materials for Diego Prime from other systems, but it would likely be so expensive that it was cheaper to build a shipyard in the resource-mining system instead.

“The assault on Diego Secondary is still ongoing. The resource reserves of Diego Prime and Diego Five are barely enough to sustain their own populations.” Commodore Thea said to herself quietly before making her decision. “Here’s what’s going to happen, general.”

“You will collect all the supplies available on the planet and start rationing to both the civilian population and your men. Hand the supplies out in amounts as small as possible without causing riots. This will buy us time.” She continued. “In the meantime, I will do whatever it takes to collect as much supply as possible from the rest of the system and send them to you. I will also be making a request for resupplying from other systems, but I can make no guarantees. As you know, this theater is not a priority for the offensive.” 

“This will buy us time.” General Pierre admitted. “But to what end?”

“This will buy us time until we can secure Diego Secondary, which is the main agriculture world in the system. The local Republic garrison knows the importance of the planet. That’s why they’re putting up a good fight, but we will take them with its food reserves intact. I will make sure of it.”

“I see, commodore.” General Pierre nodded. “It will be done.”

As the meeting came to an end and the figure of Commodore Thea faded, one of the colonels in the room snapped. 

“Who does she think she is? She is nothing but a damn kid leagues away from the battlefield! What does she know of our sacrifice?” 

The colonel conveniently forgot the fact that the same could be said for him and everyone in the room right now. 

The response he got from his general wasn’t what the colonel expected. 

“The commodore comes from House Thea. Her grandfather is a close confidant of Lord Vitz himself. Her father is a grand admiral in the Sector Military Command. Her mother is a vice admiral in the Command. Her three older sisters are all admirals in Battlefleet Silver Lance. I appreciate your sentiment, Colonel Kai, but I suggest you keep your mouth shut for your own well-being. It is not our place to comment on the commodore’s personality.” General Pierre said quietly as he turned and stared at the colonel. 

“I…yes sir.” The colonel froze before lowering his head, knowing the general only meant well. Saying these things was dangerous for someone in his position. A colonel like him was nothing in front of an Imperial House. A member of another House of equal strength could criticize them in public and House Thea would simply laugh it off, but a mere colonel? 

House Thea could have him assassinated and no one would say a word in protest. Not for him. 

“Colonel Voss.” General Pierre turned to one of the men in the room. “I want you to handle the rationing. Collect all the supplies you can find among the local population. I don’t care how. Use lethal force if necessary. We need these people, but it would be foolish of them to think this gives them any leverage over us. Some casualties are acceptable.”

“Yes sir.” Voss nodded with a cold smile. Obviously, the people wouldn’t just surrender their limited food and water, which meant this was a brilliant mission for someone like him who enjoyed hurting people just a little too much. 

As the general said, the Imperials couldn’t let all 90,000 civilians on the planet die, but that didn't mean the Imperials had their hands tied. A few hundred, or even a few thousand, casualties were acceptable as long as the cause could be justified. 

“Colonel Patricks. Your unit was in charge of rounding up the prisoners. How many did we capture?”

“A little over 200. Most of them are civilian volunteers or militias. Should we go with the standard protocol?” 

“Yes. Identify and interrogate anyone of potential value and incinerate the rest in public.”

“General…” One of the colonels spoke up. The other men in the room looked at him and raised their eyebrows. Colonel Gavin, one of the replacements for their unlucky colleagues who mysteriously disappeared a while ago. A few of the colonels secretly scoffed and watched this exchange with interest. As officers who made their way up from the bottom, they were happy to see an academy graduate make a fool of himself. 

“With all due respect, is that really the best course of action for us?”

Colonel Gavin knew he was new, but even a new officer like him could see a connection between how hard the Republic troops fought and the treatment by the Imperials of those who surrendered to them. The Republic troops had no chance of victory or escape, and they still almost fought to the last man. The reason behind it should be obvious to everyone in this room, but for some reason, no one was willing to do a thing about it. 

Before he could make his point, General Pierre snapped at him and gave him a warning look. The look was enough to tell him to shut his mouth. 

“I saw the list of the Republic vehicles and equipment we captured. Where are they stored now?” The general moved on not-so-subtly, disappointing the colonels who wanted to see Colonel Gavin make a fool of himself in public.

“The vehicles and light weapons are kept in Fort Samsa. The 5 S71 starfighters are in Starport Cinder. The two locations are each under the protection of two infantry companies.” 

“Very well. I will ask if they are to be salvaged for parts.” General Pierre agreed before moving on to a much more important topic. He paused and tapped his fingers on the desk. “How’s the morale of the troops?”

“Many men are shaken due to the casualties suffered.” One of the colonels admitted. “The 6th Regiment alone lost over 800 men. Twice that is injured. At least 200 men won’t be returning to the battlefield again.”

“The overall casualty for the entire division is around 6,000 dead or injured. The Republic troops used the terrain against us. It’s not surprising that morale is low.” General Pierre nodded. “I am thinking about enacting Order 109. The troops need to be given some inspiration, and the civilians…many of them picked up arms against us. Teaching them a lesson on what happens to those who resist the Imperium will help with making them more obedient when we need to put them back to work.”

Most of the colonels were visibly excited by the general’s words. They knew exactly what Order 109 was. The lone exception was Colonel Gavin. Like the others, he knew about the order, and that was why he looked concerned. Once again, he contemplated saying something, but he kept his mouth shut nonetheless. 

“I agree, general.” One of the two female colonels nodded, a small smile on her lips. “My boys will be happy to let off some steam after the fight.”

“It is proven that Order 109 will make the men fight harder, sir. I think it’s a great idea.” Another colonel agreed.

General Pierre scanned the expression of his officers, keenly noting their positive reaction. He paid some extra attention to Colonel Gavin, the lone exception. “In that case, I want a list of names by the end of today.”

“Yes sir.”

The meeting went on for another half an hour. As it came to an end, all but one of the colonels left the room. Soon, as the door shut, General Pierre and Colonel Gavin were the only two people remaining. 

“General,” As they were in private, Colonel Gavin brought up his concerns again, his voice quiet but forceful. “I have a few questions I would like to ask.”

“Very well.” General Pierre nodded. “Go on. Speak your mind.”

“General, why are we torturing and killing our prisoners of war? I know it’s been tradition for centuries, but it’s obvious this is a terrible idea. And Order 109…the only thing we are doing is getting our enemies to fight harder than ever before. If our enemies know they will be burned alive after surrendering, why would they surrender? If we had a better reputation, most of the garrison force on this planet would have likely yielded to us when we arrived with overwhelming force. Instead, they decided to fight to the death! They did it because we forced them to!”

Colonel Gavin had no issue with violence. He was still the same man who watched a mother and daughter get burned alive in a public square and commented on how the mother should’ve turned her husband in to avoid this fate. He was fine with burning the enemies of the Imperium. His concerns were from a strategic point of view. 

Unlike the brainwashed, unarmed, and heavily monitored Imperial civilians, the Republic soldiers and civilians had the means to do something other than submit to Imperial authority. They had a far more tempting option. They had the means to fight the Imperium to the death, and that was exactly what the Imperial brutalities were inspiring them to do.

General Pierre sighed. “You are as inquisitive as always, Jason. I have always respected that side of you ever since you were a boy.” He paused. “Know that right now, I am not talking to you as a general. I am talking to you as your uncle. Everything I say, it is with your well-being in mind.“

Colonel Gavin nodded as General Pierre leaned back in his seat and continued. 

“Yes. All the brutalities we commit against our enemies are counterintuitive to our overall objective of claiming victory over the enemies of the Imperium. I know it. You know it. And if a fresh colonel like you knows it, then you can bet every officer in the division with some experience knows it. But no one said a word of objection. No one but you. Do you know why?”

“No, general.”

“Because it’s dangerous to do that.” General Pierre explained quietly. “As you surely know, the Imperium has been torturing its enemies ever since its very beginning. We have burned and castrated and flayed and gutted our foes. So tell me…when do you think this tradition began?”

“Sir?” 

“It began at the command of the First Leviathan, Jason. Our ancestors tortured their enemies with the blessing of the First Leviathan, the father of the Venya Imperium. This was something the First Leviathan believed was the best course of action to take against any who dared stand against the Imperial cause, so now, as you stand here and object to what we have been doing for centuries…you are saying the First Leviathan is wrong and that you, a simple colonel from a middle-class family, know better than the founding father of our Imperium.” 

“General, I…”

“Every single Leviathan after that followed this tradition, and so did all of the Lords and Ladies that served under them.” General Pierre continued. “Do you really think none of them noticed how problematic this is? But none of them said a thing. Yes, many Lords and Ladies chose to treat their prisoners with some respect, but none of them openly criticized these actions in the wider Imperium. Even for an Imperial House, implying that so many of their ancestors and past Leviathans were completely wrong is a dangerous thing to do that can lead to their downfall. And you, a colonel? What makes you think you can do what even an Imperial House considers risky?” 

“But…but it is wrong!” Colonel Gavin insisted. There was a fire in his eyes as he spoke words that could potentially seal his fate as a traitor if the wrong people heard him. “It is in the Imperium’s best interest to see that! Only then can we liberate more people from the hypocrisy of the Republic and the Empire…”

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“Even if it is wrong, it is up to the Leviathan to see it for himself and choose to make this change!” The general snapped. He had hoped to convince the young man to do the smart thing and shut up, but it seemed like the man was a little too loyal to the Imperial cause for his own good. “Who are you to decide what is the best thing to do for the Imperium? It doesn’t matter if this is the right thing to do! Just thinking that you have the right to ponder the possibility that the First Leviathan made a mistake is enough for your execution! Let someone else worry about making these changes, Jason!”

General Pierre knew what Jason failed to understand, likely because of his lack of experience, was that this was far more than an issue of tactics and strategies. It was also a question of politics. The Imperium preached to its population the idea that the Leviathans were given the mandate of the stars to rule over the Imperium. They were taught that the Leviathans were born perfect, and only they could lead humanity to achieve its full potential among the stars.

Of course, whether the people believed this propaganda was another issue. Maybe some did. Maybe others secretly mocked it in their head. However, the story remained, and it was repeated again and again over the centuries until many, maybe even the Leviathan himself, started believing it. 

Maybe the First Leviathan was indeed a hero. Maybe he was just a clown who got really lucky. Who he was didn't really matter as much as who the Imperium believed him to be. 

The current Leviathan could make the changes if he wished. After all, he was also a receiver of the mandate of the stars. It would be reasonable for him to think he knew better than his grandfather. For anyone else, thinking they had the option could be a fatal mistake. 

“You don’t have a say in this.” The general added as he watched the young Colonel Gavin engulfed by his thoughts. “A Leviathan can enact systemic changes like this across the Imperium. A Lord or Lady can decide what to do within their sectors. You…a colonel with three thousand men under his command? The only thing you can do is follow the decrees of Lord Vitz to the letter and keep our own thoughts to ourselves. And guess what? Lord Vitz ordered his warriors to maim and burn the foes of the Imperium, and so that is what we will do!”

He shrugged. “The same goes for me. You think I have a say in this? If I tell my men to treat the Republic prisoners with respect, I will receive a visit from the division’s ISC Overseer soon.”

“What about Order 109?” Colonel Gavin countered. “Lord Vitz didn't order this!”

“Indeed. It is my decision to issue Order 109, but I believe it is beneficial in the short term,” The general simply stated. ”and in the long run…we have committed so many atrocities. What is one more added to the count?”

There was a sense of apathy in his voice. A lot of people would suffer and die under Order 109, but so what? The general was being a patient teacher to Colonel Gavin, but his care was only limited to the young man. To others, especially the Republic civilians, General Pierre was still nothing short of a monster.

The young colonel stood there in the middle of the office, paralyzed. For his entire life, he had seen the Venya Imperium as the greatest nation in the galaxy and, like many of his friends in the academy, swore to do everything he could to serve in its defense. Yet at this moment, he was aware of something that could help the Imperium more than anything he hoped for, and…and he had to stay silent about it?

In the academy, he was taught that for a soldier, obeying the orders of his superiors was above anything else, but obeying orders wasn’t the solution here. For the first time in his life, the young man’s view of the world was challenged. 

“I suggest you put some thoughts into this.” The general finally proposed. “Go back to your unit. Think long and hard about what I said, but for your own sake think twice before you share your thoughts with anyone else. I want the best for you, Jason. Your father and I were brothers in arms. I would be long dead without your father, and in return now that he is gone, I will do my best to teach and protect you. Know that I will never hurt you. Other people, on the other hand, even your colleagues…they may see this as an opportunity to take you, and maybe even me, down. Be careful who you trust” 

Colonel Gavin gently nodded. Despite all the doubts his uncle’s words fostered in him, he knew the general’s intentions were good. Slowly, he made his way out of the office, his fate forever changed by the conversation that just went down. 

---

Five days later. 

Athena slowly walked down 72nd street. She was no longer in her Indominated-class power armor. Instead, she was in a slick black and red officer’s uniform. An Arbiter-S sidearm rested in the holster hanging from her side. 

The 72nd street was still mostly in ruins. It was one of the main streets in Prosperity, going right through the city from north to south. During the assault, the Republic garrison brought down three buildings onto the road to stop an armored column from the 1st Armored Brigade from reaching the city hall. 

Now, three days after the assault, most of the rubble was still there after some brief safety examination to make sure the wreckage wouldn’t suddenly explode. People on foot could climb over the building wreckage, but there was no way for vehicles to go down the 72nd. 

The sounds of gunshots, scuffling, and screaming could be heard both far and close. They were mixed with cheers and laughter. It should be an odd combination, but knowing what was going on, Athena had to say none of this was unexpected. 

When she, along with the other captains in the 3rd Infantry Regiment, was told by a strangely pale Colonel Gavin that Order 109 was given and that 20 names were required from each company, she had to admit she didn't react well. In fact, if it wasn’t for the fact that she quickly entered the game to give herself some time, she might look as distraught as the colonel. 

“Commander, what is Order 109?” Athena could remember Nova asking her. The assistant could see and hear anything Athena saw and heard, but Nova didn't have Athena’s memories. 

She remembered herself answering Nova in a quiet, cold voice. 

“Order 109 is also known as the Hour of Triumph. It is often enacted by the authority of an Imperial military commander when the unit under their command accomplished its objective despite massive casualties. It is both a reward to the soldiers and a punishment for the enemies.”

There was the sound of something hard hitting something made of flesh. Athena turned around and watched two Imperial soldiers, in similar uniforms as Athena, with batons in their hands. A man whose further details Athena couldn’t see was laying on the ground in front of them. He raised his hands and begged for mercy, but the two Imperial soldiers simply brought the batons down on the man again and again until he was no longer making any sound.

“The Hour of Triumph lasts for a full hour. During the hour, Imperial soldiers are no longer restricted by any rules or regulations. They will get to do whatever they want to an area and everyone inside, and I do mean whatever they want. Loot. Murder. Torture. Rape. Nothing is off limits.” 

In a jewelry shop on the left of the road, Athena could hear a series of gunshots. She turned and watched as a trio of Imperial soldiers emerged from the building, their pockets full of their fresh loot. One of them returned his sidearm to his belt.

“Sometimes the entire unit will participate in the Hour of Triumph. More often, the officers will select the best and most valiant troops in their squads, platoons, and companies who will participate in the process. It is meant to reward the brave while incentivizing the others to do better so next time, they can be the ones selected. All NCOs and officers willing to participate are automatically eligible…although most high-level officers won’t bother with this. They have…higher standards.” 

“What are you going to do, commander?” Athena remembered Nova asking the question carefully, and she remembered her own quiet, ghostly answer. 

“The only thing I can. I am going to give him the 20 names he wants.”

The Imperials made the proper preparations before the brutalities even started. Since they still had use for the city itself, only a few blocks were designated to be the area where the Hour of Triumph would happen. These blocks had an estimated 3,000 civilians combined. A small portion of the city’s population of 90,000. In addition, any important people within this block, such as engineers or veteran miners, were identified and evacuated before the process began. They were too valuable to die like this.

Soon, as the Imperials locked down the rest of the city, the participants of the Hour of Triumph made their way into the blocks. 2,400 troopers and a number of officers were sent into the blocks with permission to do whatever they wished in the next 60 minutes.

The people from these areas fought the hardest against the Imperials, and now their families and friends would pay a dear price for it. This would, hopefully, serve as a warning to all those tempted to take up arms against the Imperium.

Athena remembered the moment when she gathered the 20 troops in her company and told them they were chosen. She could remember the glee in the eyes of many of them. 2 of the 20 men rejected the offer, but the rest went along happily, excited for the chance to torture and maim innocent, civilians as they wished. 

One of the 18 men who were thrilled was a young conscript. When his sergeant handed Athena the man’s name, she went through his files. The conscript was 19 years old. The child of a doctor and a lawyer who was on track to go to law school, he was conscripted into service and finished basic training only two months before this deployment. Most of his squad was wiped out in the brutal assault on the city. This young man alone survived, and the slaughter must have changed him. When Athena made the announcement, the teenage boy looked like a kid in a candy shop. 

He knew exactly what was going to happen during the Hour, and he looked forward to it. A few months was all it took for this young man to go from a kid who had likely never taken a life before to a monster excited by the thoughts of doing whatever he wanted to a defenseless city.

When the Hour began, she decided to step into these squares and do the only thing she could. Observe. She forced herself to remember everything she witnessed today. Every cry for help that was often quickly silenced. Every burst of gunshot. Every Imperial soldier that stepped out of houses and stores with their belts loose and their pockets full. 

A lot of Imperials would die soon. She would make sure of it. She always knew she would have to kill many Imperials soon to protect the terran bases she would put on the planet, but what she saw here added a personal side to things. It would make things…easier. 

There was the sound of someone screaming coming from a two-story house on the left of the road that caught the young woman’s attention. Athena frowned and kept walking, but as the screaming continued for longer than it should, she finally paused and, after a brief thought, turned and headed into the house. 

Once Athena stepped into the house, she immediately noticed where the screaming came from. 

Two Imperial troopers were in the living room of the house. One of them was cutting his combat knife into the bloody and battered body of a man on the ground. The pool of blood on the floor showed this had been going on for a while. Not far away, another trooper was holding back a young brunette woman who had been stripped mostly naked. The young woman cried and screamed as the man was tortured, and the Imperial trooper with his arms wrapped around her waist clearly took pleasure in that. 

The trooper holding the woman back was the first to notice Athena. He quickly released the woman and stood up, an action that alerted his comrade who was torturing the man with his blade. 

“Hey, this house is taken!” The trooper with the combat knife complained, but he was quickly interrupted by his pal who recognized Athena’s rank. The uniform Athena wore wasn’t meant for combat purposes and clearly displayed her rank.  

“Sir!” The second trooper snapped a salute. “How may we be of your service, captain?”

Athena glanced at the two troopers. She didn't say anything, instead walking right up to the young woman. Before anyone could speak, Athena reached out and grabbed onto the chin of the young woman and forced her close to examine her. 

“Get out.” Athena finally said, tilting her head slightly as she licked her lips in pretended anticipation. “This one is mine.”

Athena knew exactly how the power structure in the Imperial Army worked. If she chastised the troopers for their brutality, it would be suspicious. What would not be suspicious was an officer taking the prize of a pair of random troopers. Bullying was common in the Imperial Army. What could these men do? Complain to their own captain? Most captains would just laugh it off. No one would challenge one of their equals for something this insignificant. If anything, their captains would jump to defend one of their own.

The two troopers looked at each other, clearly unhappy by the abrupt demand, but what could they do? Just because they could loot and kill civilians during the Hour of Triumph didn't mean ranks were no more. Athena was still a captain, and disobeying her command was a really bad idea. 

“With all due respect, sir, we got here first…” The first trooper tried to protest. 

“Yes sir!” The second trooper interrupted his friend as a look of impatience climbed onto Athena’s face. The smarter trooper forced out a smile before grabbing onto his pal and pulling him toward the door. “Enjoy your time, sir.”

As the two men left the house to search for new prey, Athena took a step back. She could sense the young woman’s eyes land on her. The look in her eyes was a mixture of fear and hatred. It didn't bother Athena. Fear was expected. Hatred was only normal. 

She made her way to the man on the ground and frowned as she scanned his injuries. It was far from pretty. The trooper with the knife was an absolute sadist. He gutted, castrated, and partially amputated his defenseless victim, likely just for the fun of it. Perhaps in the trooper’s twisted, broken head, this defenseless man was somehow responsible for the casualties his unit suffered in the assault.

There was an empty syringe on the ground next to the man, and Athena knelt down and picked it up. 

“Adrenaline.” She said quietly before pulling out her sidearm and taking aim at the man’s head. 

“What are you doing?” The young woman cried out in fear and tried to stop Athena, but it was too late. With a single pull of the trigger, a bullet went through the dying man’s skull, killing him on the spot and putting him out of his misery.

“He was beyond saving. The adrenaline shot was the only thing keeping him alive. I just made the inevitable come quicker.” Athena simply stated as she returned the sidearm to her belt and faced the young woman once again. Even not considering her Starcraft units, she wasn’t afraid of an unarmed civilian girl. 

She sat down on the sofa next to the young woman, who flinched away from her. Athena sighed. This young woman would likely be traumatized by this for the rest of her life. There was little she could help with that. All Athena could make sure of was that the young woman wouldn’t be tortured and killed during the Hour of Triumph. 

For a few minutes, the two of them just sat there in silence. The young woman expected Athena to make a move on her, but Athena never did. As much as Athena enjoyed being with women, she wasn’t going to take advantage of this girl. Not when there was a mutilated dead body a few steps away that used to be the girl’s family member. Athena didn't consider herself a good person, but she was better than this. 

She wasn’t too worried that this would draw suspicion. They were the only two people here. She wasn’t talking, and she doubted this young woman would go around the city complaining about how a female Imperial officer didn't touch her. Even if it did happen, Athena had many excuses to choose from. Perhaps she was just satisfied with watching the girl squirm. No one would question her for something this stupid. 

From time to time, Imperial soldiers would stumble into the house and immediately be chased away by Athena. Most of the participants for the Hour of Triumph had low ranks as high-level officers had easier opportunities if they wanted to have some fun. As a captain, Athena was likely one of the highest-ranked officers present. 

Finally, after 30 minutes went by, Athena received a message from her earpiece, signaling the fact that the Hour was over. She stood up and, before leaving, turned back to the young woman. 

“I know you hate us. You should. But the fact is that, as of now, we hold this city. Go against us, and you will suffer and die.” She glanced at the body on the ground. “I suggest you be smart in the near future. Do what you’re told and you will likely survive. Who knows? Maybe this planet will be back in Republic hands in a few years.” She scoffed at the end.

Athena phrased her words so that even if someone overheard her, they wouldn’t grow suspicious of her. She hoped that, despite the hatred the young woman had of her, she would listen to her advice and survive under Imperial rule. Indeed, the future was unknown. Maybe one day the Republic would return. The only thing set in stone was that the dead would have no hope left. No potential to be saved.  

Even as she left, Athena never bothered to ask the young woman for her name, and she never gave the girl her own. 

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One more chapter showing the Imperial side of things. Athena starts setting up her terran forces next chapter...

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