"What all this crap about BDE and Farfalen claiming they have a blockade around Tholatin doing on my desk? You do know I'm leaving in less than ten minutes. I have no time to deal with this."

"Yes, sir, but..."

"But what? Make it quick."

"They are claiming they do have one and we have said..."

"So say something then. Obviously if they can hear us then there is no blockade. Have INN do a report on the war or something. Now go."

"Yes, sir."

The door slammed shut behind the retreating figure of one of his secretaries. These people just did not understand the principle behind the fact that they were in a civil war. You can't bug someone with extra-galactic affairs when they're trying to fight a losing battle of great importance. Something had to be done about this in the future. His com-link buzzed.

"Your transport is ready, General Gantar."

"God, good. I will be there in a few moments. Did General Mont send over a handful of Knights?"

"He did, sir."

"Good. Gantar out."

Transil Gantar was untested in battle for the obvious reason that the Tholatin Republic no longer waged a straight forward war on an enemy. Instead they chose a less direct, more covert way of hindering the enemies ability to wage war with the intent of helping their allies.One could not argue with the fact that it was not as effective, but the extremists would argue the point anyways.

"Bloody Northeners. All have to be so pushy and we wanty. I'm gonna go up their and shove a Southern foot up their ass and see what they have to say then."

Sliding his shoulder holster on and then attaching his sword to his belt, he walked to the door and then out of the room. Knowing it would likely be some time before he was able to return didn't make his feelings about destroying the enemy any different. If they were going to listen to some offworld morons that only wanted to make them look like idiots then he would make them idiots.

Once they felt the Southern's military superiority, despite the fact that the Northerners outnumbered the southerners by at least 2-1 odds, they would falter. Then they would go back to what they had once been: law abiding citizens of the Republic. At least he hoped that would happen. General Mont had told him that all the tactics you learned in military school would not work here as well as they did in scenarios. Things just didn't work that way.

I guess it's up to me to come up with a new way to beat them, then.

Nobody seemed to notice him as he walked down the hallway towards the docking bay. Only days earlier they had been bombarded in the initial wave of battle byt about twenty missiles. Only a handful of them had made it through but their targets were decimated as a result and more people were tending to wounded than working in the military complex. He couldn't fault them though. Wounded needed taking care of, but surely the ones still in the building could show him due respect.

Shrugging it off as them being preoccupied by the fact that they could die at any moment at the hands of the Northerners, he stepped into the hangar bay and walked towards his ground transport and the Knights waiting for him. Climbing aboard, he took a seat in the center as the rest of the members of their team climbed aboard and took their seats in the enclosed vehicle.

"To the lines, pilot. And make it as fast as possible."

General Travert Gree of the Northern Army stood currently within his office at his command center close to the lines of the war. He looked down at his strategic maps and holograms before the door slid open and a runner came in.

"My apologies, General, but there is a man here to see you."

"Well, show him in then," Gree said as he continued to pour over his maps.

As he focused on a more recent movement of Southern troops, a man in a white suit and black shoes walked in with a black cane clutched in his left hand and a pair of dark circular sunglasses covering his eyes. He stared straight ahead as if the wall behind the General wasn't blank.

"Good day, General Gree," the man said as he stood there calmly.

Gree looked at the man again as he walked around the table. The man's head didn't even shift as he did so. This confused Gree as he also noticed a small weasily man standing at the door with a look of boredom on his face.

"Who are you?" Gree asked calmly as he walked now directly to the left of the man in white.

"I am Tir Esias. I represent an organziation who is interested in seeing the Northern forces win this war," the man said as he seemed to stare through the General.

"Oh? What exactly does your organzisation get out of it?" Gree asked skeptically

"Money, of course," Esias said, his lips curling into a smile, though never turning his head towards Gree.

"So, you're mercenaries. What exactly can your group do for me that my own men can't?" Gree asked coldly, his distaste for soldiers of fortune coming out in full.

Esias just smiled wider at that question and seemed to detect Gree's attitude. He finally turned towards Gree, yet he seemed to still be staring through him.

'What is wrong with him?' Gree thought now as he looked at the man before it hit him as to why this Tir Esias never seemed to look directly at him.

He's blind!

Gree's mind staggered as he realized that the blind man was now facing him directly as if he knew exactly where he was. That was the most disturbing thought of all. How could a man with no physical sight know exactly where he was standing?

"You seem distressed, General. Is there a problem?" Esias asked with that smile still on his face.

Gree stepped back from the man in shock that he could sense something like that. Whoever this man was, he had talents few others did or could.

"No, nothing. But what exactly would you're organization do for us?" Gree asked uneasily.

"We can do things your own forces cannot. With Tholatin split, you need an ally who can steal information for you, no? One who can operate in the South?"

Esias just continued to smile after saying that. It was clear he knew what he was talking about. Gree walked to the right and was disturbed to find the blind man turning with his motion until he stopped. It was unnerving.

"So, how much do you want?" Gree asked.

"What can you afford to pay us?" Esias asked calmly.

"Eighth hundred thousand. No more, no less," Gree said, giving him a false estimate.

The blind man actually chuckled at that offer.

"Don't lie to me, General. I know when people are lying to me," Esias said as he stood there.

Gree was unnerved now. This man had caught him in his bluff when no one should have been able too. The current financial facilities of the North were being kept secret to keep the South from doing anything with that information.

"Very well, I believe we can pay several million," Gree said coldly.

"Good, I assure you that you won't be disappointed with the results, General. My organiztion always lives up to its deals," Esias said cooly.

"What exactly is the name of your organiztion, Mr. Esias?" Gree asked curiously.

"Now, if I told you that, it wouldn't be a secret," Esias replied whimsically as he turned and began to walk to the door unaided, which only surprised Gree even more.

Before exiting however, the blind man turned and faced the general again.

"I have a bank account in the North Shares Bank. You will transfer half of the payment to it if you accept. Once we have done our job, you will then pay us the other half."

"What makes you think I'm gong to accept your offer?" Gree demanded.

"Oh, you will," Esias said before turning and exiting unaided. The weasily man who Gree had just remembered had been in the room also quickly followed.

As the door closed, Gree walked over to his desk and fell into his chair where he poured himself a shot of Tholatin whiskey and threw it back quickly. He coughed for a moment, since he'd only started drinking with the start of the bloody and destructive war. After his coughing fit had ended he pulled the maps up and again and set to work shoring up defenses and making plans for other operations. The offer of the blind man lingered in his mind constantly through that as the disturbing meeting replayed in the back of his mind over and over again.

"Some of our spies seem to think that the Northerners are more routed into the offworlders ideals than we first thought. There seems to be an increasingly small chance of victory other than totally destroying their military."

"Did you ever have a doubt as to whether we would have to destroy them, Major? Listen to me. Read my lips if you have to. There will be no surrender in this war. Not from either side and even though I intend to win there is a distinct possibility that we could lose. We are heavily outnumbered and the trainees will not be ready for another week or so."

"Yes, sir, but..."

"No but's, Major. I'm not joking around. This is my operation and it will be fought as I intend to fight it."

The Major fell silent at this. General Gantar was known for his ruthless intent to kill all enemies no matter who they were or where they were from. If they opposed him, the only thing in his mind was that they should be defeated in any manner possible. His teachers at the academy had feared passing him for that reason. They thought that if he was put in charge more people than necessary would die as a result.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now shut up so I can think."

The Major had given him a touch of a headache that was on the verge of becoming a major one. If he didn't watch it he was going to have a headache bigger than the ones he'd had while thinking about leading the Southern forces. Originally he had wanted to back down for lack of experience. Such a large and important war did not deserve to be led by an untested leader such as himself. He'd asked for General Mont to be put in charge, but High Command had said he was the one in charge no matter what.

"If it is a war the Northerners want, it is a war they will get. And it will be a bloody war with many casualties on each side but there's will be worse. We will have to out-think them in order to win."

"That's what they say, sir."

"They say a lot of things, Major. They say I may be one of the greatest military commanders in Tholatin history or I may be the worst. It all rides on this war and how it is played out. Well if it is a show they want, it is a show they will get. And it will be the grandest show they have ever seen."