Page 26 of Koha'vek
Chapter Sixteen
General Vyken Dark
My holographic projection flickered into the central chamber of the Federation High Council, and I instantly felt the familiar burn of scrutiny, even from across a dozen light-years. They sat in a perfect arc: eight consular booths, two from each of the significant power blocs, arranged like royalty or watchful gods. Behind them, the seal of the United Galactic Federation shimmered brightly, a sapphire metallic blue against the nearly white marble of the chamber wall.
“General Dark,” Councilor Lin-Har intoned, her voice crisp. “We’ve received your petition and supplemental evidence from Cyborg Protector Blackwood. You may begin.”
“Councilors, what I’m about to present won’t sit well with some of you. It doesn’t sit well with me either,” I paused long enough to let that sink in. “But just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t consider it.”
I activated the evidence packet provided by Protector Blackwood on a large holo screen that appeared beside my projection. It featured a series of interviews and footage of the Mesaarkans and their daily activities in a small community. There were Mesaarkans tending gardens, building shelters, gathering around fire pits with human females and mixed-species children.
“There is a Mesaarkanrefugee colony hidden deep in the Colorado wilderness,” I said. “Forty or more at last count. All are confirmed deserters from the Mesaarkan military.”
I let the silence stretch.
“Many have human mates. Some have children. They are not part of a larger plot. They have no military weapons. No fleet contact. And they are not seeking power or expansion.”
Councilor Gavarn’s voice cut in sharply. “And you believe them?”
I met his gaze squarely. “I didn’t say I trusted them. I said I’ve seen no evidence they’re lying.”
I continued. “They simply request: Asylum. They want the right to remain on Earth without fear ofarrest or deportation to Mesaark, where they would face prison or death.”
Councilor Na’shuri, ever the diplomat, leaned forward. “And your recommendation, General?”
I inhaled slowly.
“I fought the Mesaarkans for ninety years. I watched friends bleed out on a dozen worlds. I’ve been rebuilt more times than I care to count. Ihatedthem. Still do, in some part of me.”
That got their attention.
“But these individuals didn’t start that war. Many were conscripted. Others defected the moment they saw what their leaders were doing. Some helpedus. One of them—Koha’vek—assisted Protector Blackwood during a high-risk civilian rescue. Not for reward. Forjustice.”
Councilor Rios crossed his arms. “So, you propose we let armed deserters settle peacefully among our citizens?”
I shook my head. “They’re not armed. And they won’t be.”
I tapped the control panel at my side, pulling up a clause from my draft proposal.
“We recommend that allmilitary-grade or energy-based weaponsremain banned under the terms of asylum.
To ensure survival in wilderness conditions, non-automated tools—such as bows, spears, and mechanical traps—should be allowed for subsistence hunting only.
All such tools will beregistered and monitoredthrough a Cyborg Command liaison, under direct oversight.”
Councilor Lin-Har raised a brow. “And you’re volunteering someone for that position?”
“I already did,” I said. “Blackwood.”
That earned a few murmurs.
Na’shuri tilted her head. “You’re aware this may cause unrest among surviving war veterans?”
“I am,” I said. “But we don’t punish beings for what others did in their name when they’ve chosen to live in peace.”
Another beat of silence.
Then Councilor Gavarn scowled. “And if they break that peace?”
