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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pxOwb6QPgHQ
This place had been a home once.
Wind whistled through cracks in the permacrete like some lamenting banshee's howls. The wooden supports creaked beneath the weight of the crumbling hut, and thunder rolled across the lands as the skies above wept. Lorrd herself grieved for the fallen, just as her forgotten sons and daughters filled the air with songs of woe.
Not single sister remained, and those that Alexander may have called brother were scattered throughout the cosmos. He stood as the sole living testament to the great tragedy that had shattered his homeland.
Millions dead, trillions of credits lost, worlds swayed to the deathly promise of chaos.
A leader dead.
This was the state that the Dominion had found itself in. Surrounded on all sides by the enemy, her heroes' ashes having been scattered to the winds. Her people awaited the fall of the axe, and for a time, Alexander had been among them.
"The price of virtue is desolation now, is it not?" His voice was heavy with unspoken sorrow.
Another voice spoke, this one with an electronic edge to its words. "It is if you let yourself believe that."
A quiet sigh fell from the warrior's lips. "I hadn't imagined my home to have fallen into such a state of disrepair."
"Tends to be what happens when you leave for twenty years." The speaker materialized in the corner of Alexander's vision. Stanley's balding face was split with a mocking grin. "I sent out a message to [member="Marcus Itera"], but you know how he is. We haven't seen him in-"
"He'll come. We walked different paths, but we're still brothers." Alex affirmed. Stanley raised his hands in mock surrender. The warrior lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug and slung his rifle across his back.
"They need us." Stanley's voice was oddly quiet.
"I know."
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Alexander Ontonas stood in the center of the briefing room within one of the many police stations situated within Lorrd city. His helmet was pinned beneath his arm, revealing a mop of brown hair, a broken nose, and intense blue eyes. Day old scruff coated his pale face, and his brow was deeply furrowed. It was here that a number of initiates had been told to gather. Some were volunteers, others exceptional soldiers picked out from the rank and file, and even a few were criminals that had opted to serve their time behind a rifle rather than in a jail cell.Their transport had been discreet so as not to alert the locals, but the scent of change was in the air. Tensions were reaching the boiling point.
Lorrd's support of terrorist elements could not go unpunished. Her people were innocent, but her rulers were not. Her libraries of arcane knowledge could not longer be left to the hands of private citizens.
The Lord Commander's home would be freed. That was the beginning.
"State your names, backgrounds, and produce your means of identification before we begin." Alexander's tone brooked no disagreement or derision.