WotH-2 Chpt 7

==War on the Horizon - Chapter 7 / Book 2==
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===The terrible Morning and Widows of the deceased===
Location: Beloria, Independent world
The day began with a funeral…
 
It wasn't the first funeral I'd overseen as the head of a mercenary company, and it wouldn't be the last. I had had men and women die under my command. I'd seen death up close and laughed in her face as she attempted to snatch my life from me. 
 
Regardless of how things went, there would always be a part of me that felt guilty for living when others died. There was something inside that screamed and railed against the cold and brutal reality of the world. I had done everything possible to ensure that those under my command lived. I Had nearly paid the ultimate price myself. But it was never enough. 
 
The bright young commander of the combat vehicle Fireteam would probably never walk again. Most of her command was dead. And Peterson's infantry had been whittled down to a mere handful before Sheppard had broken through and came to our aid. For all that people would believe that we had won, we had still lost.
 
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We had pried the ground-side leader of the Trade Federation out of his tank and began interrogating him. I knew I couldn't handle the questioning, so I withdrew myself and buried myself in other work. All of this resulted in what I was doing right now.
 
"Are you ready, sir?" Julia moved the hoverchair beside me. 
 
"No," I shook my head. "No one's ever ready for what we're about to do."
 
The two of us made our way to the first house, one of many we would visit today. 
 
"Mrs. Jefferson?" I questioned the woman who stood at the door.
 
The woman knew what we would say before we opened our mouths to speak again, and tears began flowing. 
 
"Please, come in." she choked out through broken sobs.
 
Entering the house, we helped her to a small sofa in the living room of their comfortable home. 
 
"Mrs. Jefferson," I allowed a tear to trail down before steeling myself for what came next. "I regret to inform you that your husband Kyle perished during the battle against the Trade Federation forces."
 
"How did he die?" She asked. 
 
"He was a hero," I tried to smile and failed. "One of our tanks was disabled, and the rest of the crew was injured. He pulled each of them out and into safety before finally succumbing to his injuries."
 
"And the bastards that killed him?" She lifted her eyes. A harsh, bitter anger shone through them. "What's going to happen to them?"
 
"We destroyed all of the droids." Julia said after a minute. 
 
"No," The widow replied. "What are we going to do to the Trade Federation?"
 
She wasn't the only one with that question, and after two weeks, we finally had an answer.
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===Soldiers sharing stories of the conflict===
"You understand that I cannot sanction this as the head of the Confederacy of Independent Systems," Dooku sat on the other side of my desk, a sad, tired look in his eye. 
 
"I know," I replied. "But if I don't retaliate, there will be even more consequences."
 
"You didn't let me finish," the older man smiled sadly. "I cannot sanction the action as the head of government. But as a friend, I wholeheartedly support this action."
 
"I thought vengeance wasn't something the Jedi favored?" I raised an eyebrow.
 
"It is good that I am not a Jedi, then," Dooku replied. "I understand the political ramifications of what will happen if you do nothing."
 
"I'll try to leave the Confederacy out of things," I tapped the desk. "But I can't promise that the Republic will have a good reaction to things."
 
"Beloria is an independent world," Dooku shrugged. "The politicians will scream regardless of what you do."
 
"Then I might as well go all out then."
 
We continued discussing plans for a little while before the other man departed; he had to return to Raxus and ensure that the CIS was seen as blameless in anything that happened in the near future. 
 
But I wasn't alone for long.
 
"Need someone to break you out of here?" Siri asked, her arms crossed underneath her chest. 
 
"My knight in shining armor," I grinned back. "Here to save me from the dreaded bars of paperwork!"
 
"There are droids that can do this," she picked up one of the sheets and frowned at the language she couldn't read.
 
"Sure," I agreed. "But I'd rather have a medium that no one can hack, slice, or understand outside of my inner circle."
 
"Right," she blew a piece of hair out of her eyes. "You look like you need a drink, and I want a story."
 
"What I need, is a damned cigar," I sighed. "But I haven't found any yet, so I'll have to settle for a drink."
 
I stood up and walked to the door, the Jedi Knight following as I closed and locked the door. 
 
So we headed for my house, I needed a break after two months of a hellish siege and living in the cockpit of my Warhammer, and Siri wanted to make sure that her friend wasn't too close to the edge.
 
"Listen," I said after I opened the door to my small house. "I already did my twenty-two today. You don't have to worry too much."
 
"I don't even know what that means," she frowned. "But no one needs to be alone in a time like this."
 
"We're corrupting you," I chuckled as I flipped lights on and pulled a mostly-full bottle of whisky out of a cabinet. 
 
"I suppose," she set the bottle down on the small four person table while I grabbed glasses. "Now, tell me what happened on the ground and I'll do the same for the space battle."
 
We shared stories of the conflict long into the night, the bottle still mostly full as we only drank sparingly when we needed to wet out tongues. Because sometimes, all you need to make it through the darkness is a solid friend by your side and enough ammunition to kill anything that stands in your way.
===Find some rest and peace===
"Hmm," I woke up gradually, for once the klaxon of my alarm clock having been silenced the night before. 
 
"Fuuuuck, that was some good sleep," I sat up and stretched, the endorphins making me sleepy for a moment before the fog of the morning vanished. 
 
Even through the stress, I had been able to find some rest and peace, and that was something I hadn't had in years. Then the warm body next to me shifted and the memories of the night before came back like an F-15 beating the atmosphere into submission.
 
"Whelp," I glanced at the nude blond next to me. "Might as well enjoy it."
 
I scooted back down and pulled the comforter back over me. I'd deal with that potential issue tomorrow…
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Chapter 2-7