In honour of a new year - A story by Ciar Meara
The figure at the end of the table stood up and suddenly the room fell into silence, it was man, tall and seemingly young, but his eyes mirrored his true age, alive but tempered with knowledge and patience, eyes who had seen it all it seemed with a gaze that could very well look into another mans face and peer right into his soul.
The man spoke, "My friends" he said, "for yet another year we gather here to feast with those we call our brethren our brothers in arms I see many a familiar face here, faces I have dined with dozens of time already, faces I trust and would die for, but it pleases me to see new faces as well, you few who have been found worthy to join us are welcome here as much as these old men who I know already"
A rush of laughter resonated in the massive hall that was the dining room but was quickly stop by a subtle movement of the speaker’s hand.
"Our organisation continues to thrive and I have every confidence in the capabilities of every man in this room as I am sure you yourself have confidence in those that serve under you. Yet work remains to be done, we must not falter in our end goal a goal I have been striving for for longer then I can remember"
The man face showed a flutter of emotions and continued to speak but now he no longer spoke to the audience he gazed outside the large hall's view port where an asteroid belt hung suspended in the vacuum of space orbiting a distant brown sun for a moment the man was lost in thought but he quickly gathered his wits about him and
continued to speak but his voice had grown hard and his expression even harder.
"As I said we must not falter, we must always remember what we are doing and why, we are no longer what we were, we are more, and failure can not be an option, not this time..."
As the man sat down slowly somebody seated next to him stood up, raised his cup and spoke
"Our lord Hardin is right we must never forget our roots, what we stand for and what we believe in. That is why this banquet is hold every year to reaffirm our pledge to PIE inc and what it stands for, so I raise my cup to you milord, to PIE and to the Cause!"
As fleet admiral Golan drank his cup dry a roar of approval hailed his last statement and every cup in the room was dry within moments and while slaves refilled the cups for every guest the banquet began in earnest, and another year
was heralded with a Grand PIE banquet.