DDM Serial
The North Star, Part 12: The Resurrection Begun 
By Bryan Thomas Schmidt 

  The funeral 

was an affair of state attended by government leaders and the upper crust of Korelean society. The entire military officer corps attended along with a few lower ranked soldiers who carried the ashes and performed the traditional fallen solder's salute. 

   As the incoming Supreme Commander, Kryk was given an honored place on the dais. He'd been asked to prepare remarks in tribute to his mentor, and he'd do his best, when the time came, to conceal the restlessness he was feeling.  

   The General's death was a true tragedy for his people, no doubt. Some of the leadership was already questioning whether the war was a mistake. Kryk wanted to get back to the fighting and prove them wrong. The Koreleans had experienced some setbacks, for sure, but the Coalition had lost more ships, and the prisoners they'd captured at Regulas had provided very useful information. Kryk was convinced the Koreleans had the advantage. 

   As the ceremony continued, he thought about the wife and sons he'd lost in what the Coalition and Korelean governments both called “a scientific accident.” At the time, the governments had wanted to demonstrate that their border agreement was a partnership and not a separation.  

   He'd tried to convince his wife, Bryl, to have no part of it. “It's our honor to serve the Empire, my love,” she'd argued. “Your life is dedicated to serving our people, and ours must be as well.” 

   “The boys are too young.” 

   She touched his cheek, her hand soft and gentle. “No harm will come to them, my husband. The experiment is safe. The leadership has assured us.” 

   The experiment had involved supposed medical advances. All the leading officers' families were encouraged to participate along with some of the leadership. But something had gone terribly wrong, and the equipment had killed his family while most of the other participants survived.  

   He'd gotten official condolences and apologies from both governments. They'd offered financial reparations and other consolations, but Kryk refused them all. None of them would bring back his family. He was alone and starting over. 

   After that, he'd poured himself into his work, determined to distinguish himself and rise through the ranks so that when the time came, he would be ready to take his revenge. Despite the involvement of Korelean scientists, the radiation device had come from the Coalition, and he held the Coalition responsible for his family's deaths. Now he could charge them with killing Rohg and Grat as well. 

   But destroying Coalition military ships wouldn't be enough. He wanted revenge on the leadership and scientific community. So the Koreleans had to win this war. They had to subjugate the enemy. Then he could take the revenge he'd so long imagined. 

    “Commander Kryk?” 

   He heard his name and looked up. The Bishop was motioning to him. Time for my speech. He nodded and stood, moving forward to the microphone. He'd brought no notes. He'd known immediately when asked what he wanted to say. This was his moment. He would not waste it. 

   “The death of our Supreme Commander is a tragedy for our people,” he began. “For many military officers, he was our mentor, a role model. For a few, like myself, he was also a friend. But now his life has been stolen like so many others by the terrorists of the Coalition. The time has come to call them into account. We can no longer accept their savagery against our people. We must respond with savagery of our own. All of us, not just the military, must prepare ourselves for battle. All of us must be ready to destroy our enemy and defend our families no matter what the cost.” 

   He paused a moment scanning the crowd. All eyes were locked on him and many were shouting in agreement and waving their fists in the air. He smiled as he saw the lights on the cameras he knew were broadcasting the funeral throughout the Empire.  

   “In the tradition of the Korelean prophets who called us to resist the missionaries; those who disrespected our people and tried to erase our traditions and conform us to their views. Like the prophets, I call on you to defend the honor of our people, to declare again: 'We will not lie down and be subjugated again. We are the Koreleans! We are the future!'” 

   He watched as the crowd took up the chant, filling the air with the historical victory cry. “We are the Koreleans! We are the future!” 

   After a few moments, he smiled and raised a hand to calm them. As they quieted down, he continued: “Defend the honor of General Grat and all those who have died defending and protecting you. Don't let their deaths be in vain. We make our own future. We make our own history. The time is now.” 

   The crowd erupted in applause as he nodded and stepped down from the platform. As he turned and returned to his seat, he saw the impressed faces of the leadership and other officers on the dais. If any had doubted his leadership potential, they couldn't now.  

   In the weeks to follow, he saw his speech replayed over and over on the news channels. He saw it printed in newspapers and heard it quoted in cafes. It was a proud moment. The only way it could have been better were if his wife and Rohg had lived to see it. He had solidified his legendary status. They would follow him anywhere now. 

   He'd moved into the Supreme Commander's office the week after the funeral. He'd moved into the official quarters as well, an extravagant home on a hill above the capital. It was far more space than a single man would ever need, large enough to hold receptions and official events, but the Supreme Commander was expected to live in a manner appropriate to his rank. 

   Colonel Borz had been assigned as his personal aide. He'd been given Grat's flagship, but he'd ordered a Destroyer to be outfitted for his use. He would fight the North Star head on. A Korelean cruiser couldn't destroy her, but Korelean Destroyers were higher tech and more powerful than those of the Coalition. 

   Borz entered his office with the daily reports and waited quietly just inside the door.  

   “Come in, Colonel,” he said, looking up from his desk. Borz approached and handed him the reports. As Kryk began glancing through them, he smiled. “When will my new flagship be ready?” 

   “I'm told two days, sir.” 

   Kryk smiled. Ahead of schedule. He was glad he didn't have to employ his rank to move things along. He'd have to do that soon enough. 

   His policies would be different than those of his predecessor. Grat was a great soldier, a skilled leader, but the time had come for more demanding leadership. It's not that Grat was soft, but Kryk was harder. He would tolerate no weakness, no incompetence. He expected all military personnel to fight to the death. There would be no surrenders, no mercy, no compromise.  

   It was the dawning of a new day for the Korelean military, and Kryk was certain his way would lead to victory. 

   “Have the crew prepare for immediate departure as soon as the ship is ready,” he said as he set aside the reports; the usual boring drivel that came with command. Like Grat, he would remain on the front lines. He would lead by example, and he would demand nothing of his men he didn't demand of himself. 

   “Yes, sir,” Borz said. “Your meeting with the leadership was moved up to ten, sir.” 

   That left him only an hour. “I need those figures, Colonel. I must prepare my presentation.” 

   Borz nodded. “I'll send them to your computer right away.” 

   “Let this be the last time I have to ask, Borz.” His tone left it clear that he meant more than just the figures. 

   “I will not disappoint you, General.” 

   Kryk smiled. Borz was weak, already a disappointment. For one, he had no ambition. He was content to rise on the coattails of his superiors, and Kryk despised such weakness. Men should fight for what they wanted. It proved their seriousness, their dedication. 

   “I know you won't, Colonel,” Kryk said. “Call a meeting of the command officers for tomorrow morning. Those in the field will attend by satellite link.” It was time to let them know what would now be demanded of them. 

   “It will be as you command, General.” Borz stiffened and saluted then turned and hurried out the door.  
 

   Kryk glanced at the vidscreens behind his desk. His call to arms was replaying on three news channels. They will never forget me. I won't give them the chance. This is the day of redemption. Redemption for their people and redemption for himself.  

   He heard a ding as Borz's figures arrived on his computer. He turned back to face it and focused on preparing his presentation. 

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