"Access granted. Welcome, Centurion". The door to the chamber opened as a figure stepped in, staring at every element in the space that held the Council of Elders its name. Walking slowly, as if taking one last, thoughtful look at everything, the young man stood in front of Pedro Maniaco's picture.
"It's time." He pulled something from his pocket. It was a medal, the "Estrella Purpura", earned from being wounded in battle. The man held it in his hand for a few seconds, then placed it right under the painting.
"She'll understand.", he whispered.
He then took a minute and looked out the window, the beautiful twilight of sunset bouncing off of the Centurion's uniform. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but also knew things had to go on, and sacrifices made for the future.
It was all just barely clear in his mind. 'Sometimes things have to end.. just to assure one day it could all be resolved, and a new beginning granted to those who put everything they had on the line.. for a dream.'
Believing he had heard footsteps, the Corsair turned back and walked away towards the bar and the hangar bay.
"It is a cold universe until you know God as your Father, and then it becomes a home. Even the next life simply becomes the Father's house, home."
—David Pawson
