C'TELLE The world cleared from a haze but it was replaced by boisterous sound and the sight of countless people, all chanting and cheering as they practically sprung about the place. The walls of this establishment looked a little too thin to be proper – some sort of material that flapped and billowed in the wind – it seemed like more of a tent than anything. Entrance flaps to the tent were pinned back so you could see outside, displaying a beautiful gradient over the sky with the last glimpses of the sun just dipping below the skyline. Frost coated the grass, but inside the tent, the joy of celebration kept everyone warm. “COMPANY, ATTEN-TION!” Bellowed a voice over the din, belonging to a man who stood to the back of the tent. Almost immediately everyone snapped around to look to him – C’Telle included. This man was known as one of the higher-ups in this military organisation, easily identifiable amongst a crowd. He was a very large man, both in height and in stature, with cropped fur which made him ‘bald’ by Caitian standards but sporting a glorious, fuzzy beard around his jaw. “LISTEN UP! I am well aware that you already know this, going by the rabble going on in here, but I would like to make it official! The Caitian-Ferasan-Kzinti Coalition have officially been pushed back from this district! And it is thanks to all of you!” - C'Telle woke up. Or it felt like he did. He had an odd feeling, like he was missing something. His wild happiness faded into confusion as one hand reached up to his left eye in a perplexed fashion. He wasn't sure why; nothing was wrong with it. He blinked. Both eyes felt fine. It was so strange. He felt a crawling feeling, and it felt like his brain was swimming in honey. What the... what? What was going on? Right. The celebration. You're probably just tired, C'Telle. The heat of the people pressing against him in the tent was energizing, and his confusion dissolved as he was whisked away back into the wild joy, the cheers that pounced against his ears in response to the higher-up's words. - For a good few minutes the cacophony was filled with generic military speech - pointing out names and the accolades they would likely get, highlighting people's individual feats. At one stage, the burly Caitian's gaze cut across the crowd, singling C'Telle himself out. "And for one of our youngest recruits! The highest honour will be presented for someone so young yet so brave, for dragging one of his comrades to safety despite the Kzinti firing upon him from all directions! This is the mark of a true soldier!" The man pushed his way through the crowd until he was right there by C'Telle's side. An arm was wrapped around the smaller one's shoulder, almost crushing a little. "You should be proud of yourself, son! You proved yourself well today!" - C'Telle must have looked as though he had just been gifted the gates of heaven themselves. He stood at attention, hardly believing this to be true. "Thank you, but i was just doing me duty, sir! I'm honored though, sir!" He beamed and laughed as his friends punched his shoulders and congratulated him. He felt pressure on the back of his eyes and fought not to cry out of happiness; his smile wavered and his held his chin high. This was everything he had ever wanted. Everything. His chest swelled with pride. - "Oh, please! Just doing your duty is something to celebrate! Out there we have people who refuse to join up, we have pacifists and people who run from the heat of battle, we have those who give themselves blighty wounds to get themselves out of combat! You are one of the youngest of this battalion and yet you have shown true courage today - you are doing our people proud!" He let go of the younger Caitian's shoulder but stood back, letting the others in to surround him and cheer him on. "It won't be long and you'll be on the fast-track to a promotion. Advanced tactical training, leading your own team... It's all right around the corner." - My own team! Advanced training! "I- T-thank you, sir! I'm honored, sir! I'll do my best to prove myself worthy!" And he vowed he would. His heart pounded in his ears, and he felt like his heart would sprout wings and fly away. I'll go above and beyond. I'll show him that I can do it, that I can handle it. I'll do it! He grinned wildly as people pressed closer around him, congratulating him, touching his shoulders, thumping him on the back. "With the Coalition out of this district, where are we going next? What are your orders for me, sir?" - "Our battalion will stay the night and then head south, towards the vast sea. Rumour has it that the Ferasans have been attempting to import seafaring vessels from the Nausicaan shipyards. We're unsure of their intentions, but the sooner we stop them, the better. We'll pack up our camps, destroy anything we've left behind, and then begin the journey." He spoke up then, grinning a sharp-fanged smile at the others who had gathered around. "And I trust we shall drive them out once again, just like we have done here! The power of Cait prevails!" - C'Telle growled low at the mention of the Ferasan's supposed plan. "We'll crush them!" He howled. For the glory of Cait! (Or something!) He saw flashes in the corners of his eyes as other Caitians raised their hands and showed, teeth and claws glinting. "I anticipate tomorrow greatly!" - "For the glory of Cait!" He echoed, just moments after C'Telle had thought it. "Now, come," he stated, lowering his voice a little so it was just between himself and the Ensign. With one hand on the younger Caitian's shoulder, he guided them towards the front of the tent so they could stand in the doorway, breathing in the cold air. The sun had just dipped beyond the skyline now, the red glow which had encompassed the land dimming to black. "I have something important that I must speak with you about, young Hsashar." - C'Telle immediately stood at attention. He noted the last remaining tendrils of sunlight that reached for the tent, bathing the world in a deep, bloody red, before fading into inky blackness. Crisp air filled his lungs and his breath curled into mist in front of him. He felt like he could run for miles. God above, he loved his world. "Yes, sir. What is it, sir?" - "I didn't want to bring this up in front of the others -- I know that you're good friends with many of them." He gazed out into the night, watching a handful of insects begin to hover around the crisp grass, almost like they were doing a little dance. It was the first time in many days and many nights - it was hard to remember - that things had been so still here. "I've heard rumours that you're thinking about other places that you might end up when this conflict is over. Now, all of this may well just be rumours... But you aren't thinking of leaving us for Starfleet any time soon, are you?" - "Rumors, sir? Who-" C'Telle looked stunned. How- Who had fuckin' snitched??? It wasn't a serious thought. Not at all, not yet. He had thought of it occasionally, in passing, perhaps mentioning it to someone offhandedly or as a joke. In Starfleet, he would get a much wider range of action. But he would never leave his post! He loved Cait, he loved his friends, he loved fighting for his world. "Sir, I- no, sir, never, sir!" Inside he felt surprise, fear, and anger. Rumors? Spread by whom? "I promise you will never see that come to pass. My place is here." He said this firmly, even aggressively, raising his chin. Starfleet could never give him what he had here. The pure, raw, pulsing energy of the fight. The suspense, the risks. Starfleet didn't have that. Curse them and their diplomats. - "Oh, thank the stars," the military officer stated, allowing the stern, strong-shouldered pose that he had adopted to dissipate in favour of something more relaxed. He shook his head, smiling. "This is the issue when you start going about proving yourself. There will always be others out there who are trying to do better than you - who are jealous of you, and would do anything to claim your glory as their own. Don't worry about the rumours -- I'll have them shut down." He paused, his gaze moving away from the land that was bathed in that inky black of night, and looking towards C'Telle instead. "As long as you're certain that you'll stay here, with us." - "Absolutely, sir." He felt a bitter taste like bile in his mouth, accompanied by irritation. Perhaps the older Caitian was right, and people only wanted to steal his glory! Curse them. He would climb to the top once all of this was over. The older Caitian knew better, right? So what he said was probably true, or at least accurate. It didn't even cross C'Telle's mind that someone such as a military higher-up could be wrong. "I can shut them down myself, sir, if you tell me who's responsible." C'Telle said icily. Certainly not his friends... - "Oh, no, there's no need! Don't you worry about those rumours. Like I say, people are just jealous of your fast progression and your strong performance! But don't you worry - go ahead and celebrate with the others before the morning comes." He blinked, those cat-like eyes suddenly being replaced. One eye changed to a murky black, one to a piercing red. "For the glory of Cait." Turning, he entered back into the tent -- and the celebration went on, as did the night.