"Bang!"
The entire door tore free of its frame and flew into the command center like a leaf ripped loose by a gale. It tumbled several times through the air, then slammed into the floor and skidded more than ten meters, plowing a deep furrow through the polished tiles before crashing into a bank of consoles and smashing the precision equipment to pieces.
Dust and smoke filled the air.
Then golden light poured through the doorway.
Saul walked in.
Saul swept his gaze across the command center. He saw the shattered consoles, the holographic screens still flickering on the walls, and the Dataslates and documents strewn across the floor.
Then his gaze settled on the two figures in the center of the room.
Aun'Ve and Monta stood side by side.
Aun'Ve held the standard-issue saber in his right hand, its tip angled toward the floor. His left hand rested behind his back, his posture straight as a pine. There was no fear on his face, no anger, only a profound calm, still as twilight.
Monta stood to his left, half a step behind him. The old general held his ceremonial sword across his chest. Though the blade had never tasted blood, in his hands it now exuded a formidable menace.
Saul stopped.
About twenty meters separated him from Aun'Ve.
Their gazes met.
They held two utterly different kinds of light. Saul's golden eyes were like burning stars, filled with the strength and weathered experience of nine lifetimes.
Aun'Ve's deep-blue eyes were like two bottomless pools, reflecting a civilization's pride and defiance.
The silence lasted several seconds.
Then Aun'Ve spoke.
"You are Saul."
It was not a question but a statement. His voice was calm and clear, without the slightest tremor.
"I am," Saul replied.
"On the day Farsight died, on