A Blade Reforged

[Cptn Irae Varen 0]

A single silver coin rolled gently between Captain Irae Varen's slender fingers in the darkness of his ready room. On the side facing him was the visage of someone lost to history—likely one of the earliest Terran Emperors—someone who'd not lasted long enough in power to merit anything more than a few silver coins that were now almost utterly worthless.

 

Varen's grandfather found the coin years ago on Earth. He'd past it along to his son, who gave it to his son as a reminder that vigilance was the ultimate price of power. Just because you achieved your goal did not mean that fate would be kind. Of course being a mere Captain in the Imperial Starfleet had not been his ultimate goal. That, however, was the subject for ruminations of another time.

 

Considering the task it had been to break the crew of their habits that had formed under the Command of the prior master of the Excalibur, Varen was rather pleased he'd managed to mold them into an ideal crew in only a few months.

 

The transformation had been nothing short of miraculous really. When he assumed command, they were a load of weak-minded individuals who's discipline wouldn't have cut it a week on most Imperial garbage scowls, let alone one of the primer vessels in the Fleet. Yes, Excalibur's edge had become dull; but like a fine smith, Varen had reforged the blade and turned it into a sharp, slicing weapon that could stike down who ever opposed the Empire.

 

Now the blade that had been reformed would be tested in battle. Excalibur led a fleet of vessels bound for Wakith. A group of rebels had begun fermenting there, and the Excalibur would see to their utter destruction.

 

When he'd assumed command of the Excalibur he would have been apprehensive about taking the ship into such a scenario, but he knew now that the crew was ready to carry out whatever orders were given. They were ready to bring peace by the sword.