Tides of Change

[Jeremy Hunter]

Location:
Akaba - Citadel Babylonia
The Hanging Gardens

---

The Hanging Gardens. A club built in the heart of the Mountain Fortress known as Babylonia, it was the one club on Akabat that not just anyone could walk into. Even most of the base personnel couldn't enter this highly fortified club, and even fewer could claim they knew someone able to enter. The Hanging Gardens were made for only one breed of Agent, and one only.

Wedjat.

The Hanging Gardens was where those who did the dark work - the black ops, the shady business, the assassinations - would come. Once done, they exclusive club of booze, boobs, and music picked by the agents themselves (one per person, which did cause a few fighters when some guy tried to be the joker and say "Friday." He lost his pass). It was where they could come and drink, no matter the outcome. Where they could lose themselves to women who offered their services to those who did jobs most would decry as, yes, terrorism. Everyone working there either was Wedjat, or of a Wedjat family. Every person hired, would go through the same training Wedjat did. They understood the gravity of what they did, and they understood what these people did.

The work that would never see the light of day...or when it would, would never be accepted. Collateral, if all else failed, was justified by the Order...even if they hesitated, every Wedjat would nuke a liner, they'd kill thousands to save trillions. Such agonizing decisions, decisions that kept them up at night...these people had this Garden as their sanctuary, and the days it was crowded were the days of true celebration, when Agents returned home, no matter the outcome. After Minor...the small area for Wedjat never was full. It never was truly going to be full.

But here...here, in the Wedjat's secure Mountain Base, a base four years in the making...and today, it was quiet. The owner, Jeremy, was out of system, leaving the bar to Ayaki Miyoko...or he would have, but she was in Rheinland, with the Bundschuh. Aqua was with him as well...and thus, the bar was left to a Wedjat agent named...

Jack.

And currently, Jack was pouring Shieldbreaker a tall glass of gin. "Long day?"
"I just lied to about a hundred people." He said, swirling the glass. "You could say that."

---

Akabat, Osborne Academy
Ten miles north of Akhetaten


"You are the best. Those who graduate from Collister are good. Those who graduate from Osborne, are great. Every single one of you has passed the tests of the last year while studying here. You have flocked from all corners of Sirus - Liberty, Rhienland, Bretonia, Kusari. Crete, Crayter, Malta. Yes, even some of you have come from Gallia, like Agent Alexandrie. But here, your origin just means your heritage. You are no longer Libertonia, Kusarian. Cretan, Crayterian, Maltese. You're Order. You are Order. And from here, you become the guardians of humanity, preservers of what we have built. We are few, but we are strong. From the Svizra, we breed strength. From the Fedayeen, we breed teamwork. And from the Osiris, we breed determination. One day you will find yourself more then just a pilot. Every one of you will make a difference. Even if your life is short, your life has become important. It is you who is the wall upon which darkness inevitably will break, you are the blade through the fire, the shield that guards the innocent. You will fight, you will buy humanity time.

And every one of you will be remembered as heroes. No matter if your name is forgotten or emblazoned across an Academy, a base, or history. You pilots will be remembered as the few, the brave, who decided to do anything for their species. And it is from this academy we will show the Nomads what fear is. We will show them determination, we will show them what it means to fight.

We are the Order, and we are here. Toledo was devastating, but now we are here. Akabat is slowly being turned into our home, and Mu is now our bastion, our citadel. Oathkeeper is gone from orbit, but now we have new guardians, new sentinels. You. Go forth pilots, and prove your worth. From the Districts to Akhetaten, from the shores of Nasser to the icy Razgriz Straits Science Complex, you are yet a new generation."

A pause, letting it sink in. The graduates filled the room, some even standing. Osborne Academy was one of the more complete buildings, though this wing was still being constructed.

"One day, some of you will command our mighty Osirises, our rare Gebs, and our advanced cruisers. Half will command our heavy gunships, and rest will be our fighter corps. But do not feel as if staying in the Fighter Corps is bad...no, it was three Anubis wings that breached Omnicron Major, it was fighters that dove into the heart of the swarm and unleashed hell. But today, we have not one Osiris, but many. We have not three fighters, but dozens. Unlike the First Nomad War, we know our enemy, and our enemy no longer has the element of surprise. One of you could be the next Trent. Another, the next Zane. Maybe, one day, the next Golanski, the next Hunter or Brandon...you could be our next leader. Only time will tell, pilots.

So, congratulations on graduating this academy. Giza Base has received a delivery of fighters. Since Bolevara has decided to not grace us with his divine presence, probably with Agent Miyoko, Veteran Agent Johnson will guide you. Make us proud, pilots. You're dismissed."

As they filed out, Shieldbreaker leaned on the podium, head down. "...half of them won't make it past the first month..."