Elazar's Dilemna

What will they do to him for taking on a role he was not qualified to take on?

He stared out the window at the stars as they sped by. The knots in his stomach tightened even more as he thought about returning. His thoughts had taken him millions of miles away from the Galactic battleship on which he now stood. In his mind, he was standing there on Lydea, his beloved planet, standing at the edge of the viewing platform looking out over one of the planet’s largest mountains, the Grand Dame. Tears were beginning to form in his eyes, as suddenly the door’s signal sounds. Blinking a few times, he turns and faces the door.

“Enter,” he says with a slight tremble in his voice.

The door slides to the left with a whoosh, and a man enters.

“OverLord,” the man salutes as he says the word.

The protocol requires officers to salute with their clenched left fist held over their heart, which is obviously on the right side of their chest and to stand at attention until addressed.

“Please, Qol,” the OverLord said, swinging his hand as if he were brushing away a Crolerian Fly, “no one else is around.”

He and his SubLord often banter about the protocol surrounding the OverLord’s position.

“Yes,” Qol said, grinning and breaking protocol by stepping out of attention and walking over to his friend, “But, I know how much it bothers you, so I cannot stop doing it.”

Qol stops as he gets near the window at which Elazar was standing.

“You were thinking about it again, right?”

“What makes you think that?” said the OverLord, while still blinking quickly to brush away any evidence of tears.

Elazar could see the concern in his best friend's eyes, as Qol said, “I know you, my friend, I know how you feel.”

“Yes you do,” said Elazar, as he turned to face out the window again, “It’s been a long time. I thought that we were never going to be able to return.”

“It did seem that way, didn’t it,” responded Qol, “We spent so many years on this planet and have gotten fond of it.”

Qol turned to the window and noticed the stars as well, as he said, “How do you think they will respond?”

“Now that,” quipped the OverLord, “is the big question. Isn’t it.”

The OverLord was smiling as he turned back to face his friend.

“That first day was a ‘real trip,’ as our friend, Ambassador Pérez, likes to say.”

“Right!” said Qol, “When we first saw all those photos of them having sex, we thought it was material that they used for teaching their young.”

Both men broke out in laughter.

Elazar reached out and grabbed Qol’s shoulder, as he laughed, and said, “How about when we found out they had over six thousand languages. I wondered how in Cleora they were no at constant war with each other.”

“No, no,” interjected Qol, “Remember when the Education Module’s Minister was concerned when the humans sent their people up to the moon in their rocket … and then it took them four days to get there.”

Both men laughed for a while until the OverLord finally stopped and faced his friend and gestured to a seat.

“Sit,” he said, as he sat in his favorite chair himself.

“Thank you, Qol,” he said smiling, “I needed that.”

Qol sat but said nothing.

“By the way,” asked Elazar, “Why did you come to see me?”

“The Education Module’s Minister asked me to check with you on the protocol when we land.”

“What about it?”

“Well, seeing as how you became the OverLord, in the strangest manner in our history, they wondered if we were to follow the same protocol when we land?”

Elazar’s mind went back to that day when the meteor had struck the Lydea Prime. Within hours he found himself promoted to the rank of OverLord because all of the ship’s officials were meeting in the module that was hit. After immediate and necessary repairs, the remaining ranking personnel of the ship met and, according to the established procedure, selected the highest remaining officer and promoted him or her to the rank of OverLord. That was how Elazer, a lowly Prilate, found himself the ship’s commander. Normally, a person will go through years of experience before they might have even a slight chance to become an OverLord.

“Tell them to make up new procedures if they have to, I am in no shape, nor have any inclination, to worry about that.”

Qol stood and snapped to attention as a jest, and turned and walked out of Elazar’s Quarters.

The OverLord leaned forward and placed his head in his hands.

We will see.

***

“Arrest him!” Ordered the Planetary OverLord.

The Planetary OverLord’s words were still thundering in his ears as the soldiers grabbed him and started to pull him. Elazar turned left and right as he looked into the angry faces of his fellow citizens of Lydea. Their screams and slurs as they shouted at him, hit him as though they were pounding on him physically. He could not believe that they would have responded in this manner.

“Pretender!” shouted someone from his left, as someone from his right also shouted, “Faker!”

Elazar turned to look up to the three moons of his planet, as tears ran river trails down his face. The worst thing was the face of his best friend, an angry face, right before him yelling, “Elazar! Elazar!”

The OverLord sat up in his bed and said, “Wha, what? Huh, What’s going on?”

“You didn’t answer the door chime,” said Qol, “I thought something might be wrong so I let myself in.”

“No, don’t worry, my friend,” said Elazar, “What going on?”

He turned and looked at the chronometer, “It’s three in the morning!”

“Yes,” said Qol, “You are needed.”

Elazar, with Qol’s help, dressed quickly and headed to the Lydea’s Bridge.

Once there, Elazar looked to the view screen at the front of the Module and saw his beloved Lydea on the screen.

“How long before we arrive?” He asked no one specifically.

“OverLord, …” began the Navigator.

“20 Hours,” answered Qol, overstepping the answer of the Navigator.

Elazar continued staring at the screen as Qol moved closer to him.

“You heart beating any faster?” he grinned.

“Shush,” replied the OverLord, as he noticed one of the officers turn at Qol’s jest. Joking with the OverLord in public was a ‘no, no,’ and highly inappropriate on the Bridge

“You spent too much time among the humans!” whispered Elazar.

Under his breath, Qol responded, “Look who’s talking.”

Qol is right. I did spend as much time among the humans as I could, while still dealing with my responsibilities aboard the Lydea.

***

I need to hurry, or I will be late. The Planetary OverLord is expecting me to be on time. No one has told me how they feel about the handling of my role as the commander of the Lydea due to the accident. Commanding her as the OverLord has truly forced change on me. But, ah, there they are.

Elazar walked into the Bridge of the Lydea and stood, weal-kneed, before the illustrious rulers of the planet. He walked to stand before the Planetary OverLord and saluted.

“Relax, Elazar,” said commander under his breath, with a whisper of a smile, “You’re not going to be hung … yet”

Just at that moment, the Planetary Ministry entered. As the highest civilian selected among the populace, she held the highest authority on the planet Lydea.

Both Elazar and the Planetary OverLord snapped to attention. Elazar walked forward and stood at the spot he had been told to do so earlier.

The Planetary Minister began speaking.

“The custom of our people has long been that someone must first be a soldier for no less than 50 years to become a Battleship’s OverLord. Along with the many years of experience in battle and leadership over the staff and warriors of the ship, the OverLord must demonstrate the capacity for the position. Elazar has accomplished none of these.”

His heart sank upon hearing those words. Was he going to be disciplined?

“Except for the last,” she continued, “Having had the role of OverLord thrust upon him, Elazar, who held the rank of Lord Prilate, at the time, accepted and took on the responsibility as a proud Lydean.”

The Planetary Minister paused as was the custom of the Lydean Politicians, and then continued, “Today, we will make official the title of OverLord to Elazar.”

The Minister turned to Elazar and the Planetary OverLord and nodded her head at the Officer.

The OverLord turned to a nearby table and opened a glass box. From it, he lifted the insignia of an OverLord. He then turned back to Elazar and pinned it to his uniform.

***

“Elazar!”

His eyes snapped open.

“Elazar!” yelled Qol staring at Elazar wide-eyed.

The memory of that fateful day rushed into the memory of the OverLord.

Elazar sat up quickly.

Is this a dream?

He quickly scanned the room and his eyes fell on his uniform.

No. There it is.

His heartfelt as though it was going to burst from his chest, just as it had on the Bridge the day before.

“Got you,” said Qol, “Didn’t I?”

“Yes,” said the OverLord of the Galactic Battleship Lydea, smiling, “Yes, you did.”