Tweet of the Day: Writing: Writer’s Block
Four of pairs of eyes scanned multiple holo-screens in the dark. They displayed a panoply of intelligence reports from troops movements to market reports. At the center of this web of information sat the Commander. Nobody under his command knew him by any other name. For the last decade he led a large number of survivors inside an old batarian military base deep within a moon of the gas giant Verush. The base was meant as a fall back position in case of a war with one of the Citadel places. A place where the leadership of the Hegemony in-exile would continue the fight against their enemies. But none of those for whom the base was meant to protect ever escaped Khar’Shan when the Reapers attacked. Soon after they struck the Hierarchy’s bases on Verush’s moons. They destroyed most of them.
But not all of them.
Not this one.
As the Reapers spread around the galaxy, the Commander gathered the survivors, expanded the existing facilities, trained the men under his command, and waited.
From his lonely perch he witnessed the defeat of the Reapers on Palaven and Earth. He saw the mad dash by Balak to retake Khar’Shan, only tob e obliterated by the Reaper as they retreated. He observed as the Reaper remnants continued their brutal occupation.
Then he acted.
He sent out feelers through the former regime fragmented intelligence network. Small teams of covert operatives fanned out across the galaxy to gather key resources. He cultivated links with key resistance leaders on Khar’Shan. His agents infiltrated pirate bands, slaver groups, and political advocacy groups. All the while he waited, in the darkness.
A voice only message came through the comm, “Package delivered and primed for activation.”
The Commander smiled. The waiting was almost over.