Seated in his massive chair at the head of the conference table, the Founder seethed with rage. What more can
be done to crush this
uprising?
He had to find a new tactic. This situation was causing him more frustration than anything else he’d experienced in his 130 years of life.
One of the Classad, the Ashamine government's highest council, made the unwise decision to break the heavy silence, “Perhaps, if we met some of their demands and change some of—“
“We have already discussed that!” the Founder roared, vibrant orange eyes burning into the man. He felt the fires of the dark star roaring within him. He wanted to release his fury on these old men, to burn them for their failure to destroy the dissidents.
I must calm myself,
he thought, trying to relax his clenched jaw. These men are of no use if I alienate them.
Why had he been so prone to anger lately? He had never acted like this as a younger man.
“What I mean to say,” he continued, almost regaining his usual charisma and poise, “is that we have already developed that idea to its logical conclusion. The Divisonists’ propaganda is particularity virulent. Their strongest weapons are peaceful protest and the ability to spread false information as if it were
a disease. If we give into their demands, we'll look guilty. They will use that to infect and recruit even more of the Ashamine population. We cannot negotiate. We are the ones with power, and we must use it to fight their insidious agenda.”
He paused, his mind once again running through the history, tactics, and information they’d discussed in prior sessions. In the next instant, his mind leaped to a conclusion it had previously missed. What if...
he thought, a sadistic grin touching the corners of his mouth. I’ll have to approach this carefully
. Most of the Classad would be opposed, unable to bring themselves to do what must be done. That was fine. The Founder was used to issuing such orders. He had the perfect person in mind to perform the task. If not knowing the plan will
keep
the Classad’s conscience
clean, then so be it.
They don't need to know.
Their only real purpose was to offer advice and carry out his edicts anyway.
The Classad hadn't always been this weak. The Founder remembered when he'd learned the secret history, how the first Founder had answered to the Classad.
The Ashamine Charter stated: “The Founder is to lead, but he is directed and held accountable by the Classad.” The Charter’s creators had chosen a man much too smart and determined to be ruled by committee, however. Twenty years into his term, the Ashamine was under the total control of the first Founder. This history had been suppressed, of course, and no one but the current Founder himself knew of it. This was all for the best.
The original
Founder would have approved of this course of action,
he observed, the thought bringing him out of his reverie. “For the time being,” the Founder resumed, fully back in his relaxed persona, “let's continue to search for alternative solutions. Now, we should move on to other, more gratifying business.” He could see the Classad relax as he spoke.
“From the intelligence briefings we've received, it’s fairly
evident we’ve almost exterminated the Entho-la-ah-mines. The war is nearly at an end. They only exist on a handful of planets, their forces growing weaker by the day.” This statement brought on a buzz of excitement and anticipation the Founder enjoyed. “Furthermore,” he continued, “I'm told by the Ashamine Forces that we are close to discovering the hidden Entho worlds. The Engineering and Building Division has also informed me they will be ready to start developing these new colonies as soon as they are cleared of the insects.” Everyone will celebrate my achievements
when we annihilate those bugs and expand the Ashamine’s borders. Everyone except for the Divisionists.
This thought drove the thorn back into the Founder's mind and his mood soured again. Humanity needed the abundant resources on the Entho worlds, and if they had to destroy a bunch of interstellar insects to get them, then so be it. The Divisionists can go bugger themselves in the fires of the dark star,
the Founder thought. They can protest all they want. We
will take those
worlds, just as
we’ve taken all the others.
The discussion about the war continued awhile longer, a few of the Classad talking about this or that until the matter had been fully reviewed. The Founder brought the meeting to an end by dismissing each of them personally.
After they left, he returned to his chair at the head of the table and brought out his personal communicator. “Crasor,” he said into the device, and after a few moments, a clear, soft-spoken voice replied.
“Yes, Founder?”
“Are you back on Ashamine-2 yet? I have need of my Facilitator.”
“Yes, I just arrived. I can be at the palace shortly.”
While he waited for his Facilitator, the Founder thought about the man. Crasor Tah Ahn was a skilled operative. He’s the best I’ve ever seen.
He wouldn't be the Facilitator if he was anything less.
The Founder remembered the time he had spent meticulously researching personnel who would best fit his newly created title of Facilitator. At the end of the search, he had summoned Crasor and asked, “1st Class Enlightened Tah Ahn, will you be my aide?”
“I will do anything you ask of me,” Crasor had replied, his devotion evident.
“Anything? Anything at all?”
“Of course. You are the supreme leader of the Ashamine. Your word is law.”
The Founder's Commandos hadn’t wanted to lose Crasor, and with good reason. The man's skills were far superior to any other operator the Founder had researched. Over the eleven years Crasor had been his Facilitator, the Founder had grown quite fond of the man. He wouldn't call him a friend, but he was certainly closer to him than he was to anyone else.
“Founder,” a voice said, and he looked up to see Crasor enter the room.
“Facilitator,” the Founder replied, using the title because he knew Crasor enjoyed it. “Thank you for coming.” He gestured at the chair to his right and Crasor sat down. “How was Traynos-6?”
“The bridge fell,” Crasor replied, excited eyes betraying his calm voice.
“Everyone was taken care of?”
“Yes. The scene was compelling and contrary evidence non-existent.”
“Perfect,” the Founder said, smiling. He was glad that, unlike the Classad, his Facilitator got things done. “I have a new project for you.”
“What can I do?” Crasor asked, leaning towards the Founder.
“There is business I need you to conduct on Noor-5,” the Founder answered. “I have a surprise for the Divisionists, a bit
of a message in fact.” As he explained the details, Crasor's mouth curled up into a sadistic grin. He felt the same smile grow on his own lips, knowing Crasor would execute his plan perfectly.