The hall aboard Safe Haven station was packed with people. The Reapers of Sirius had assembed. Juan Zavala waited to address the crowd patiently, near the edge of the stage which was raised at one end of the hall. He did not personally know the man speaking before him, but he found his words weak and lacking the fire and passion that would stir people's minds and hearts into action.
The man finished speaking and stepped down from the stage, giving Zavala a nod. He nodded back politely, and stepped up onto the raised platform.
“Reapers.”
He spoke without a microphone. His voice carried through the hall to the assembled men and women of the Reapers of Sirius. Calm, clear, accented by his Maltese upbringing, tinted with the depth of age.
“Reapers... I stand before you today with a simple message. A message which each of you, in the depths of your heart, soul, mind, know. Our duty is to bring this message to the masses. To the legions of Sirians who live in the dark turmoil of oppression, violence and warfare. To those who's lives are governed by the ill-will of the few, who's existence is ruled over by material concern, by greed, a lust for superiority, by warfare and violence. These are the people to whom we will bring our light.
The face of our enemy changes over time, but its soul remains the same.
The Corsairs. A brave people who have struggled against the odds to survive on an inhospitable and barren planet. Their bravery and courage is overshadowed by the expansionist and aggressive ideals of the oligarchical Elders. Their belief in their own superiority brings torment to the people of the Omegas. Hardship and loss to their own.
The Outcasts. The people from whom I am partly descended. An afflicted and cursed people, who's freedom has been curtailed by the very planet which they call home. Their Dons seek to bring Sirius under a Maltese thumb, by spreading their curse. Forcing many into slavery, and many others into a state of reliance.
The Hessians. A people who's fight started against a totalitarian regime in Rheinland. However their goals have shifted from that noble fight. Now they are little more than petty pirates, masquerading behind the very ideology which drove the people of Sol from their homes.
The Sirius Coalition Revolutionary Army. The remnants of the great enemy. Their actions are inexcusable. There is no forgiveness in our hearts for them. The Coalition of Sol destroyed all that which humanity had built. Drove our species to a state of desperation, homelessness. Casting humanity deep into the void, with little hope of survival. The war of Sol brought us closer to outright extinction than any other event in human history. Their abhorrent ideology hides its true colours beneath a veil of “good will”.
They are the red tide. Drowning the people of Sirius in a sea of collectivism and non-identity. Non conformists are met with death. Free thought and will? A thing of the past, under Coalition rule. This would be life under the Coalition. This is no life at all.
We stand today in a unique position, Reapers. We are placed, poised, to strike down these evil doers. The Corsair Elders, the Outcast Dons, the hypocritical Hessians and the dictatorial Coalition.
To cut their tongues and let their blood soften the sword of violence. This is your duty, Reapers.
We are the striking lightning that clears the oppressive air. The beating of our drums is the thunder, heralding the rains which wash clean and feed the barren land.
We are hope and death. We are freedom. We are the Reapers.”
He stood for a while surveying the men and women gathered infront of him. He nodded his approval to them, and stepped down from the stage.
Safe Haven was crowded... Zavala doing his speech. Reyes expected his thoughts to contradict hers. Her head overwhelmed with thoughts, she yet stepped out of the closer crowd, her arms swinging off all doubts, and proclaimed out loud:
'You seem to forget what we have been before and what ideals we've always served, Zavala!'
As the looks shifting towards her, she waited. These were extremely terrifying seconds for her, for she has never done the kind of speeches like this. But for her, what has to be done will be done.
...
She was born into a Corsair family on Crete. Raised by parents who could not fully care about their children, as Anna was far from being the only child, she was left in loneliness and blue.
In her teens, she'd dream about being a hero who would bring peace into the entire universe, ending bloody riots and obliterative civil wars. And there was not a single doubt that she wouldn't become.
Her dream came true when she met Reapers face to face, near her own homeworld. At desperate attempts to convince brothers and sisters to cease fire and negotiate instead, she heard that the Reapers are somewhere close... So close that she couldn't miss the chance to join their cause. Quickly grabbed her Titan, she launched off Crete, with bitter regret of what it has become, and prayed that Reapers would hear and listen. So they did.
Through her life as a Reaper of Sirius, she has proven extreme loyalty to the Minister and outstanding dedication to the goal of her life: stopping the gunfire to save lives, be it pirate or an officer. In last months, however, she noticed changes in Reapers' priorities. It was her job to remind her men of what it took to get where they all were.
...
'Of all people, Juan, I expected you to think with a cold head.
With joy I remember the moment when you allowed me to join and fly under Reapers flag. It was nothing but an honor, and a childish dream slowly coming true. My dream. The dream of peace in the entire universe. Obviously a remote one to achieve, yet it brought me to you, Reapers, allowed to use your faith and your exceptional skills to put an end to wasting lives. Lives of future diplomats, musicians, artists, architects, scientists... This list can go on and on.
These are lives which, by accident, were caught in the wrong place and at the very wrong time. And I will remind you again: prematurely ended lives. The Hessians, Outcasts, Coalition... Corsairs - all of them deserve to live a little longer. If we fight against these people, we merely condone to what we've always sought as chaos and devastation. Instead, Reapers, we should convince to cease all the hostilities and gunfire!
We are strong. And I shall remind you why: the strength is held not within your guns, which end numerous lives before they even cherish the slightest joys, but in your mind. Your word is a weapon which should give people hope! Hope they've always sought for. Guns serve us another purpose - that is to calm those who wish to stay blind and deaf to our saying.
If that is the moment to change the universe for the better, then this is time. I am putting my trust into you, Reapers, and hope your heart will point at the right choice. '
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