Captain Cirrsseeto Quez,

It is with deepest regret that I must hereby submit my resignation from the Alliance military.

Actually, no. Almost every word of that is a lie. I have no regret over my decision to end my service to the Alliance. Like so many, I joined the Alliance to Restore the Republic for one simple reason: to fight the Galactic Empire. You know some of my service record; you are aware of some of the actions that I joined the Rebellion to atone for, and that I sought to help prevent. Now that the Alliance of Free Planets is no longer in the business of combat against the Imperials however, there is no room in the Alliance military for men like me. You don't need bad men to do bad things for a good cause any more; I have become obsolete.

What I should have said is that it is with deepest regret that I must excuse myself from your service. I have served with many men over the years, but few have earned my respect, and fewer still my trust, admiration, and friendship. Your resolve, morality, and conscience set you apart: standing beside you as your XO has been a distinct honour, and my single regret is that this decision will prevent me from remaining there. If anything were to have been able to change my decision, it would have been my loyalty to you, and it would have succeeded were it not for my loyalty to someone else. One of my former officers is lost, and in danger; and saving her matters more to me than I can ever admit with an Alliance uniform hanging across my shoulders.

While I may be a relic of the Alliance's past, men like you are what is needed to safeguard the Alliance's future. To that end, I have taken the liberty of attaching the personnel file of one of the few others that have earned as much of my trust and respect as you have. It is a poor substitute for standing beside you myself, but I will sleep easier knowing there is a man as dependable as him looking out for you.

Force willing, our paths will cross again, but if they do not know this: you are the finest officer I have ever served with, the finest leader I have ever served under, and the finest man I have ever known.

I have been, and always shall be, your friend.


Commander Jonathan Glayde John
John stared at the indicator blinking on the datapad screen, the glowing text the only light illuminating the otherwise dark room. Writing those words had been difficult enough, but dispatching the message was a far more difficult challenge to overcome. His heart was conflicted, acutely conscious of the fact that he owed it to Cirrsseeto to provide more of an explanation, and to deliver such in person; and yet equally aware that were he to stand in front of his Captain, no amount of resolve or loyalty or other confusing emotions would allow him to abandon Cirr's plight, not even to try and save Charlotte from hers. The Alliance had forced him into this, forced him to pick between Captain Quez and Lieutenant Tur'enne: and while it had not been a hard choice to make, it would be a hard choice to live with.

Slowly he exhaled, mustering every last scrap of resolution to force his finger to depress over the instruction to send. The screen flickered as the datapad transmitted the message to the local holonet, winging it's way to Cirrseeto's desk. Watching the confirmation message appear on the screen made it feel like the entire Maw had materialised in his abdomen, the tangle of black holes slowly devouring the last remnants of his soul.

He stood, and cast one last look around the room: his cabin aboard the Novgorod, the ship still grounded on Dac, still undergoing final repairs. It had hardly been full to begin with, his handful of belongings easily stuffed into a small bag; but the emptiness left behind felt all too vast. A few steps brought him to the door, a lingering glance settling on the one item he was leaving behind: the jacket of his Alliance uniform, hanging on the back of his chair.

His eyes fell away, a sigh escaping, his hand patting gently against the bulkhead. "You take care of your Captain," he requested of the ship, in little more than a whisper, "And look after my crew."