Da'an heard the door of his rooms close. He went forward to it's interior and enjoyed the reassuring and caressing radiation of the violette structures. His hand stroked his face and he sensed the soft touch. He liked his human body. He felt well in it. When he moved the fingers of his human hands in slow-motion, they seemed so strange and creepyly fascinating. A similar emotion appeared when he followed Liam's movements sometimes. They evoked astonishment in Da'an.
Now he took off his human facade. Da'an watched the shining energy lines of his body and felt deep satisfaction. They shaped soft curves and created an interesting pattern. Ma'ru had loved them and thought they were beautiful. The Commonality had called him, Da'an, beautiful - before the war. Since the war against the Jaridians had started beauty and arts had no worth anymore. They had the power of spending short moments of pleasure but much more important was the survival of their race. This survival had only been possible by the achievements and sacrifices of every member of the Taelon-Commonality. Sacrifices. Yes, they had given a lot. Everybody had lost loved ones and was still missing their presence. Everybody had abandoned joy and entertainment to develop weapons and military tactics that did not contradict their philosophies for the simple reason that they helped the race that had thought them up to survive.
Da'an felt his fluent, graceful movements. What had become of them?
They had separated from the Jaridians to lose hatred and violence, to not be able to feel those emotions any longer. They had wanted to reach spiritual perfection, had wanted to live in a community that shared all their thoughts, feelings and memories, one in which the members were close. The concentrated energy had helped them and they had been on their way to reach their goal.
What had become of their philosophies? Da'an saw himself standing in front of the Synod. He had developed a new plan and presented his vision convincingly. The Taelon-race, mentally highly developed and physically weak, could employ other, inferior races, could use their low intelligence and exploit their bodily strength to fight against their enemies and to finally beat them. “A brilliant idea!” the Synode had agreed. The philosophic caste remained silent. And they still were.
What had they done? Da'an writhed. Again a memory crossed his mind. It had happened when the Taelons had visited Zelar. They had been greeted friendly. Queen Valaz, leader of the united peoples of Zelar, had even welcomed them as highly respected guests.
** Now she stood in front of him. “Da'an, I implore you! You are surely conscious of what you are doing to my race! Most of the experiments failed. Our warriors won't stand the strong energy weapons of your enemies. You know that, Da'an! So stop it, please!!” Da'an looked at her. Her five tentacles were twitching around her body and started to shine green, a reliable sign of fear and desperation. Also the rest of her body started to get coloured slowly. The soft creamy yellow became at first a warm moss-green but then darkened to the green of firs. He noticed that Zo'or looked curiously at Zelar. The atmosphere of the planet changed fast and again and again created new forms and patterns. Da'an searched Zo'or in the Commonality. He felt his amazement and fascination.
*Zo'or! You have to learn that to observe precisely is very important at such meetings. Look at the changing colours of Valaz' body! Every race has its own way to express thoughts and feelings with their body. It is necessary to decode those signals in the phase of investigation and intervention.* His student turned to the queen.
“Queen Valaz,” Da'an started, “if your soldiers are not employed now, the Jaridians will arrive at Zelar in three tileps.” His voice became more severe. “We have already waited too long. I gave in your requests again and again. Now there is no more time!” He sounded as cold as ice. Then he recognised that she had given up. Four of her five tentacles were knotted together on her back and the other one on her round head hung down feebly. They were almost black now.
“Da'an, please ... there ... there has to be another ...” Her voice got too weak to be heard although she still moved her lips.
“The troops will leave in fifteen karzats.” Queen Valaz broke down. Her attendants started to comfort her. Da'an turned away. Zo'or stood beside him, so close that he could feel his warmth. They looked into each others eyes for a long while. “I still have much to learn, Da'an.” Da'an smiled reassuringly at Zo'or.”**
Da'an groaned and dropped to the ground when he thought of what had happened next. Of course the Zelashian soldiers had had no chance. But it had never been intended that they defeat the Jaridians. They were too weak for that. It just had been their task to hold up the Taelons' enemies till stronger forces could arrive.
** “Da'an, the Jaridians will reach Zelar in 500 karzats.” - “Prepare our ship for ID-space, Zo'or.” Zo'or hesitated. He stepped towards Da'an. “Shall we not evacuate the Zelashian people? We could bring them back to Zelar after the attack of the Jaridians.” Da'an negated. “We would risk too much. The Jaridian-ships have not achieved top-speed yet. They could arrive earlier than we are expecting.” - “There are still millions of Zelashiards on the planet.”
Da'an mused regretfully: “Yes, it would had been better if we had not restricted the choice of soldiers that much. Then we would have had more time to get stronger forces to this sector. A tactical mistake of mine.”
When Zo'or did not respond, Da'an let his critical look pass him. “Zo'or, this planet and its inhabitants have to be sacrificed.”
Short after it, Zo'or's hands glided over the ship's controls. He allowed himself a last look through the virtual glass at Zelar before they started into ID-space.
“A good leader has to be able to do what it is necessary to do, Zo'or.”
This lesson of his mentor left deep traces in him. **
Something seemed to explode inside of Da'an. Guilt. He felt how guilt laid down on him, heavy and burdening. He could barely breath. He gasped for air and tried to sit up but again fell down. He felt as weighty as his guilt was and had the feeling to be glued to the ground. He screamed louder and louder. He heard his lament echo through the Commonality. What had they done? How had he been able to do this? A sob ran through his body and reached his thoughts. Tersolle, Sh'zasz, Lar, Silun, Paim, Lamak, Boloz, Kren, Dabole, Miman. Some of the planets they had exploited and destroyed. Consumed planets, now drifting coldly through space, annihilated, changed life that had been stolen its worth of living. Robbed by them, the spiritual race. They had done to others ... Da'an started to tremble fiercely and uncontrollably ... what had happened to themselves. Their mental unity had been taken from them, as had been their pleasure and the ideals of their community, their sense for beauty. And the philosophic caste knew nothing to say.
Da'an felt the care and compassion of the other Taelons. They touched him and comforted him with their caresses. Soon Da'an was surrounded by a soft tangle of voices. “It was necessary.” “We had to survive.” “You have saved us, Da'an.” “You have saved your race.” “Da'an, it was the right thing you did.” “Don't grieve!” And they took his guilt and shared it with him. Tenderly they whispered his name “Da'an!” “Da'an!” and they enfolded him in the ocean of their emotions and melted themselves with him.
“Da'an!” Even Zo'or sounded mellow. If you had once more the choice, would you change a decision?” Da'an let himself drift with this question. When he arrived at Zo'or there was only one answer. “No,” he spoke softly, “no.”
Da'an had stopped shivering. He found himself smiling on the ground of his private chambers. And a wave of love flew through him when he thought of the members of the Commonality, of his race. “They were worth it!” he whispered in Eunoia, “their survival justifies my acts.”
Still smiling, he took on his human facade again and entered the official rooms of the Embassy. In a short period Liam would arrive and escort him to a meeting.