Timeless Assassin

(Next Day, Zone Twelve Military Base, Central Command Office, 10:02 AM)

Veyr stood outside the Major's office, clipboard in hand, posture relaxed but not careless, as the guards beside the doorway barely glanced his way before opening the heavy metallic door and waving him in.

The room was sparse, utilitarian, yet clean and orderly, just like its occupant.

Major Halsten looked up from his desk, eyes sharp behind thin-rimmed glasses, as he flipped a page on the report he was reading.

"Lieutenant Aaron," he said, gesturing to the chair across from him without breaking rhythm. "Please submit your monthly report."

Veyr stepped forward with practiced ease, handing over the necessary paperwork before taking his seat, letting a brief silence stretch as the Major skimmed through the top sheet.

*Turn*

*Turn*

Once the rustle of pages slowed, Veyr cleared his throat. "Sir, There is a request I would like to make, should you permit it—"

"Oh….What?"

"I'd like to propose something outside the usual routine…. Something to invigorate the troops"

Halsten raised an eyebrow but said nothing, prompting Veyr to continue.

"It's been over three decades since the last full-scale war, and while peace is welcome, it tends to soften the edges of our readiness. I believe a joint inter-zonal drill between Zone Twelve and Zone Eleven would be a timely measure to evaluate our actual preparedness."

The Major exhaled through his nose, setting the report aside as he leaned back in his chair.

"You think we're growing lax?"

"I think it's better to know that we're sharp than assume it," Veyr replied smoothly. "Especially with the Cult's Dragon being targeted recently. If retaliation does come, I'd rather we weren't caught sleeping."

Halsten was quiet for a moment, fingers steepled in thought.

"The Cult won't move so soon. Their pride's been wounded. I doubt they'll strike back hastily…. Also, according to our spies within the Cult, the current Dragon's Army has barely had 6 weeks of basic combat training. They are by no means ready for a war." he said at last, voice even, eyes narrowing slightly. "Still… your point stands."

He tapped the report once before nodding.

"Go ahead. Coordinate with Zone Eleven. Pick a date, draft the outline, and loop in the other Lieutenants. Let's shake the dust off the edges while we still have the luxury of time."

"Yes, sir," Veyr said with a respectful nod, before turning on his heel to leave.

But just as he reached for the door, the Major's voice cut through the quiet once more.

"Lieutenant… what's your understanding on when the Cult may strike?"

Veyr paused, his hand still on the door handle, as his expression remained composed while his mind took an extra beat to respond.

"I don't know, sir. I'm not very good at predicting the future," he said, glancing back over his shoulder. "But I'd prefer that we be ready for whenever that day comes."

The Major let out a quiet hum, the barest flicker of a smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

"You're right, Lieutenant. I appreciate you taking this initiative. I'll make sure it's reflected in your annual report."

He returned to his files, flipping one open before adding, almost offhandedly, "Also… don't worry too much about us being unprepared. We've learned a lot from our mistakes over the last three decades."

His gaze lifted, steady and unblinking.

"So the next time a Cult army tries to invade our planet… they'll be met with a big surprise."

Veyr's eyes widened for a split second, but he quickly masked the reaction beneath a crisp salute.

"Understood, sir."

And without another word, he stepped out, closing the door gently behind him.

—------------------

Veyr walked back from the Major's office with his head hung low, as he brooded over the important points that he had uncovered in his conversation.

Two things had become unmistakably clear to him now….

Firstly, there were spies within the Cult's ranks that were fairly well informed and active.

Although it was hard to say as to how deep they had infiltrated the Cult ranks, but it was at least up till the middle level, where the Righteous Faction did not need to rely on long-range scanners or intercepted broadcasts to gather intel anymore, because the very moment any large-scale movement was announced to the troops, the news was sure to reach enemy ears almost instantly.

Once the Cult mobilized its soldiers, once the attack on Planet Koral was declared openly, even in the name of preparation or training, someone would talk.

And the Righteous Faction would hear it, and that too in a real time window, after which preparations to counter that threat would begin.

Secondly, and perhaps more concerningly, the Major's closing statement bothered him.

The confidence that the Major seemed to have in a hidden ace that was supposedly developed after learning from past mistakes, was something that bothered Veyr, as such unknown variables were always the most tricky to handle.

'We need to find out what is the source of the Major's confidence,' Veyr thought, his fingers tightening against the edge of his report, as his pace slowed.

'If I walk into planet Koral with an army of half trained soldiers, I at least need to have certainty in strategy, or I'll just lead my men to slaughter.'

Veyr realized, as after weeks of struggling with his identity, Veyr had finally begun to accept his role as Dragon and the responsibility that came with it.

It was exactly as Leo had told him.

In the end, this was 'his' war.

The Dragon's Army wasn't fighting for the Cult's Elders or its Doctrine.

They were fighting for him.

And if they were willing to follow him into battle, willing to bleed and die on a foreign planet under foreign skies, then the least he could do was ensure that they were walking into conditions that favored their survival.

'I'll speak to cousin. He's always seen five moves ahead, even when I couldn't see one. If there's a way forward, he'll find it.'