The Behemoth was close, only a few days away from the Shehakim. Ben Michael did not want to leave his patrol, but the commands of the Shekinah were absolute. He had no choice but to obey.

When he arrived, Ben Michael expected to be escorted to the Kodesh Hakodashim, but the Ishim sent to attend to him were clearly leading him somewhere else. He did not say anything, though, as the Seraphim were not to speak to anyone of such inferior rank, nor were they to speak to him.

He was brought to a chamber that reminded him of the Kodesh Hakodashim, a featureless dome that instead of gleaming white was black as pitch all over. He would have been plunged in total darkness if not for the lamps the Ishim carried.

The opposite side of the chamber opened up and in strode the Erel of the Shehakim flanked by four Bene Elohim carrying a lamp in one hand and a sword of light in the other. The Erel stretched out his hand and the Ishim withdrew. Two of the Bene Elohim stepped forward to flank Ben Michael, so that they marked off the corners of a square.

The Erelim always looked grave, but the Erel of the Shehakim especially so. His face could have been carved from granite and none could tell the difference.

A shock went through Ben Michael. It could not possibly be.

Ben Michael held his tongue and it was only then that the realization sank in. The charges against him were not entirely spurious. He had allowed himself to fall under the Tempter's sway and betrayed the secrets of the Shehakim to the Amalekites. Death alone would not suffice to punish him for such sins.

But, no. He had not done what he did because he rejected their ways. He did it to prove they were right. But would that defense save him?

Ben Michael's heart sank. To be called a son of earth by the Erel meant that he was already as good as condemned. No one sent to the penitence chambers were ever heard from again. He thought his doom was complete in that moment, but it had only just begun.

While the conference two weeks ago only included command staff from the carrier level up, this meeting included even the young lieutenants commanding the Starstorm patrol escorts. Admiral Mfume insisted on bringing in commanders at all levels. The viewscreens in the conference room had to be split into several sub-windows to accommodate all the feeds coming in.

Admiral Mfume stood at the head of the conference table, looking around not only at the officers assembled with him in the conference room but also at those on the viewscreens.

Admiral Mfume's role in spearheading the reinforcements from 7th Fleet during the Battle of Ganymede continued to be one of the defining moments of his career. Anyone serving in 6th Fleet then would not forget it anytime soon.

"Our orders are to approach the Selene 03 artificial moon as a show of force that should hopefully bring the Empyrean to the negotiating table. Hope is not a strategy, however. If our intelligence is correct, we are severely outnumbered and should the Empyrean mass the whole of its naval forces against us, we will not survive direct combat."

With a nod to Captain Rajamani, Admiral Mfume continued, "This is why we must be prepared to engage in asymmetrical warfare should negotiation fail to materialize as an option. Our ships are faster, they have thicker skins, and a more varied arsenal. These all work to our advantage. We force the enemy to divide its forces and then whittle them down to nothing. The destruction of their seven expeditionary fleets will dramatically reduce the threat they present, but even that may not be enough. Their two orbital guard fleets and the colony's defenses alone are still a formidable challenge, but not an insurmountable one."

Admiral De la Rosa of the Two-Nine took advantage of the brief pause that followed to speak up.

Admiral De la Rosa held up his hand.

Showing the incredible self-restraint not to display any reaction to this, Admiral Mfume asked, "Have you voiced these concerns to the Marshal himself?"

Before Admiral Mfume could say anything in reply, Commodore Frazier raised his hand.

Admiral Mfume nodded and the Commodore stood up from his chair.

"Now, we could agree this is bullshit and turn back. Most of us would get court-martialed and SupCom would find yes-men to take our places and send everyone right back out and those yes-men would be just as rock-stupid as the orders they follow without so much as a damned peep against 'em. And they'd most likely get their dumb asses killed, and all hands with 'em.

"If you ask me, I'd rather have someone like the Admiral in charge, someone I know isn't following orders blindly but is trying to get as many of us out this bullshit alive while keeping SupCom from fucking it up worse than they are. But here's the thing: We all gotta be on board with this or we don't stand a chance.

"I'm with Admiral Mfume. Who else is with him?"

There were scattered murmurings. Dissatisfied, Commodore Frazier pounded his fist on the table.

The Commodore was answered by a more determined roar of assent from most, though not all the commanders present. Though Admiral Mfume did his best not to show any reaction to the display, anyone paying close enough attention could notice a slight glistening in his weary old eyes.

Commodore Liu answered him, saying, "The expeditionary fleet we have been engaged with, which has been dubbed the Alpha Fleet, has gone out of sensor range three times and each we get a reprieve equal to travel time to and from Selene 03 plus an extra two or three days at least. At our current position relative to Selene 03, we have at least six more days before we can expect to see the Alpha Fleet again."

Somewhat confused, Admiral Stonecroft asked, "And you are?"

With most of the dissent quelled for the time being, Admiral Mfume began to brief the assembly on the exercise plan that had been drawn up for them. Time was of the essence and even the most optimistic scenarios demanded swift action. If they were going to stand a chance against the Empyrean forces, they needed to pull together and soon.

The Erel of Metatron added, "A son has gone astray."

The Erel of the Shehakim stretched out his hand and pointed at Ben Michael.

Raising up both hands, the Erel of the Shehakim declared, "Behold, the unrepentant sinner. Even before his brothers, he cannot admit to the deeds done in the darkness."

Ben Michael could hardly believe what he was hearing. All those days of 'penance', being lashed mercilessly while voices shouted "Confess! Confess!" and never once was he told what he was supposed to confess. Part of him feared it would be this, but he dared not speak it. Now that he was faced with his crime, what would he say? What would he do?

He looked to Ben Raziel. Surely Ben Raziel would come to his defense. It was he who told Ben Michael to play the Tempter's game to prove the falsity of her words.

Ben Raziel made a slight, deferential bow to the Erelim.

Ben Michael could feel what little strength remained in his legs leaving him. Betrayed by not only his closest attendant but also his most trusted brother...

Before Ben Raziel or any of the Erelim could respond, a loud voice boomed throughout the chamber.

The Erelim and Seraphim all went down on their knees. The voice of the Shekinah outside the Kodesh Hakodashim? Never had it happened before. It was not supposed to be.

With head bowed and arms upraised, the Erel of the Shehakim asked, "What must we do?"

The six Seraphim replied in unison, "Your will be done."

The Seraphim and the Erelim of Metatron and Sandalphon withdrew, leaving only Ben Michael and the Erel of the Shehakim.

And with that, the Shekinah spoke no more. The Erel summoned Bene Elohim to take Ben Michael back to the penitence chamber. He knew he was going to be blotted out and it was as if he had already gone down into the grave. Though he still lived, there was no life within him. He was but an empty shell, dry bones to be scattered in a forgotten field.

It was quite different than dealing with the Sheolites. They always struck so suddenly. Even when you were a few hours out from engaging with them, you could easily ride an adrenaline high until it was all over. Plans always had to be made on the fly. You reacted and you reacted quickly. That was how the war had been fought for the most part.

Things were so much slower now, so much more deliberate. It gave you all sorts of time to think and thinking was not necessarily something you wanted to do a lot of before heading into combat.

It was Sean. Matt had practically forgotten that he was sitting right across from him.

Matt straightened himself up and started eating normally, even though he did not really feel like it.

Matt certainly hoped that was the case, but they would be dealing with more than just drones. Pilots below the squadron level had not been briefed on the details of the Empyrean forces, but that would be coming up soon.

How was he going to tell them they could easily be outnumbered ten-to-one? What was he going to say to convince them to fight in spite of the odds? When even admirals are openly questioning SupCom, how was he going to get some young lieutenant to follow orders without question?

He was going to have to find and answer to those questions and soon. It would not be much longer before they had to face the enemy. In order to give his men the confidence they needed to go forward, he would first need to find it for himself. It was easier said than done, but he had to find a way.

Now he just needed to believe it and then get rest of the Rittern to believe it as well.

Ben Michael was stripped of his penitent's robes and bound wrist and ankle to the floor. Once he was bound, the Bene Elohim who had brought him there withdrew. The time of Ben Michael's judgment had come.

He stared up at the distant ceiling to see what looked like blue mirror. Feeling the curve of the floor against his back, he realized it was a mirror too. It did not take him long to conclude that he was actually inside one of the greater swords of light that defended the Shehakim. So this was how sinners were blotted out. Perhaps it was the fate of the ascended as well.

As he braced himself for the end, the Shekinah's voice spoke to him.

Ben Michael did not say anything, but he was almost tempted to reply with a mocking 'amen'. What did he have to lose at this point? However, by not angering Her, his end did not come right away.

If the Shekinah were truly the Presence of the One among them, She would already know the truth and would not have allowed Ben Raziel's lies to stand. He corrected himself. Not 'She' but 'it'.

The Shekinah balked at this.

Defiantly, Ben Michael replied, "You... You are the blasphemy... A mere... thing... would dare to take God's name..."

Dropping all pretense, the Shekinah silenced the multitude and spoke with a single, harsh voice.

The more the Shekinah spoke, the more it exposed the lie that it was. If he had any tears left to shed, Ben Michael would weep for his foolishness and for the thousands held victim to the lie.

Ben Michael... No, he was not Ben Michael.

The Shekinah let out a great scream of pure animal rage. The mirror in the ceiling glowed and Ben Michael, no, Kyle Norris was engulfed in a blinding blue light.

Nothing remained when the light faded, but as if it was still compelled to answer Kyle Norris' dying words, the Shekinah spoke up again.