Distortion

[Omicron]

Golanski leaned back in his chair first, instantly recognizing which Hessian he is talking about. He had met her in person, finding her far more reasonable and practical than he had ever given her credit for in the past. Commander Marquez finished, losing composure and any grace of an Order officer he had while walking into this room. His eyes betrayed some revelation. “The portrait you’ve painted…” How he would have guessed that out of untold billions this art piece represented much younger General Major Anna Heinrich, perhaps a bit idealized image of hers. After all Luciano’s wife was meant to be dead. Leaning forward from his chair, fingers intertwined as he laid his elbows on the console in front of him.


“I had seen many outlandish things, some of which should not have happened and yet this is the world we live in. I know the Generalmajor, I had met her in person. Highly focused, highly trained professional. Less ideological oriented minds do not cross her out of fear. Those of higher moral fibre follow her as a hero. Some others would consider her necessary evil.” Admiral paused, eyeing up the officer in front him. His tone did not betray any malice or any obvious attempt at manipulating the scenario in his favor. “You had served The Order without a fault. While I cannot prevent you from meeting her forever, the exact timing is dependent on the good gesture of The Order. What exactly are you attempting to change, Commander? A resolution? To get your old life back?”

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