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[h1][b][color=f72f39]Alexander Kherol[/color][/b][/h1]
[h1][b][color=f72f39]The Last Ascendancy Commander[/color][/b][/h1]
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[h3]The Specky Sergeant[/h3]
[color=f72f39][b]His talent isn't commanding warriors capable of superhuman feats, but inspiring us peasants into warriors capable of superhuman feats[/b][/color][/center][hr]
[i] Memoir of Sergeant Treville Hamilton - Chapter 3[/i]

2368 AD 

Planet Ponin

Being part of the garrisoned militias had a lot of benefits to it. You still get to enjoy the benefits of being in the military while doing the least amount of work put into it. All you needed to do was just wake up on-time, assemble at the barracks at exactly two designated hours and make sure you don't goof up in your patrolling duty. You can enjoy the sunshine, local food and culture, as well as potentially getting a companion for how sleek the uniform of the Ascendancy looked. Personnel of the regime always looked the part. But whether or not they played the part though was up to scrutiny. We, however, didn't, shamefully enough. 

I wasn't buying into the prospect of having to deal with an uprising, let alone a full military intervention by the Rau've, but here we are. Circumstances behind this was shady, since lowly sergeants like me never would have even seen the faces of our superior officers, let alone knowing the intricacies of political mayhem. All I've heard from some NCOs were that the Ascendancy forces executed some Rau've caught in the crossfire of the revolt and that prompted their swift retaliation. Now they've completely collaborated with the rebels and turned the city states into massive fortresses to strangle us. All communications to the outside world were cut off, and even though we had our supplies, how long was it going to last? Even worse yet, our commander was killed at the very early stage of the invasion, and taking their place was an indecisive numbskull. Everyone was confused over which of their orders to follow and led to some of my comrades dead on the battlefield, without support nor rescue. 

I didn't think I was going to make it out of this alive. Or yet, in one piece at all. Morale was so low, the only thing keeping people from simply deserting was the threat of execution, either by the Ascendancy or the Rau've. Only miracle could help us then. 

You know the story already, however. Otherwise you wouldn't be reading this.

Grand Admiral Alexander Kherol. Or at the time, Commodore Alexander Kherol. 

I did not know how he got past the Rau've space fleet to land on Ponin, but all I knew was that despite his unexpected arrival, nobody really expected anything. To us, he was simply an Ascendancy's shill. He looked surprisingly young of course, but connections and descendants can get you everywhere in this world. 

But he was different. 

Without fail, every single day, I would see him walking through the ranks of his soldiers, sitting down besides them, chatting, asking us questions about the battlefield situations, our injuries or even just our personal lives. I've talked to him a few times as well. He was surprisingly chatty, talkative but down-to-earth an straightforward. He might come off mysterious, with his glasses and all, but he talked a commoner's language. He even called me 'dude' once. I couldn't make that up to be frank, but he really had a different aura to it than any other commanders I have served under. 

And it really was just the beginning of why we called him the Specky Sergeant. 

He called for a requisition of old plasma cannons from our military bases. They were poorly maintained, in disrepair and barely assembled, but he did those jobs anyway. He needed as many artillery batteries as needed, he told me. Then overnight, they were assembled, outside the outskirts on one of the fortified cities, Mido. But instead of putting them in a forest, he put them directly in front of the Rau've. Some of them so close to the city wall that they could shoot on us. 

As dawn rose above the hounding rain and thundering wind, his little known yet lionizing moment echoed.

[color=f72f39]"If you feel like hanging back, that's fine."[/color] He said. [color=f72f39]"Stay wherever you are and watch me take this city alone!"[/color]

I was one of those by his sides in this battle, either by coincidences or fate. Only a few platoons followed him, but like he said, he was going to take Mido alone, and he was doing it. I could see him from the front, in the thick of the fighting, bullets flashed over his head, speaking to his soldiers, tending their wounds, sighting the cannons himself, indicating to his other officers which positions to take up, animating all hearts with the confidence and daringness flashing in his gestures. 

We were scared. We were demoralized. We were confused. We wanted to go home, away from danger and death. But for reasons we couldn't describe, the rest of us threw ourselves at him and for him. Every sheep in the army turned into lions that day. 

Before the Rau've were able to mount a coordinated offense to dislodge the batteries, we demolished their walls with the devastating accurate artillery fire. Seeing our chances, the Commodore ordered the charge, once again at the head of the army. And we surged forward without hesitation. For hours, I fought right next to him. I cut down many enemies trying to strike the Commodore. I even took bullet meant for him. The wound knocked out my arm for good. And yet I still wanted to keep going. Just to push on a little longer, maybe a few minutes or even seconds. Because I didn't care how I am going to contribute, only if I did. Any energy I could muster was one put to protect my comrades and end this misery. 

Despite the effort to protect the commander, he still took a bullet to the thigh: a wound that came close to ending his life and radically changing the course of the upcoming conflict. Ironically enough, we didn't falter. Whereas our former general threw us into despair with a cannon shot to the eyes, the moment the news circulated through our veins, our blood boiled. Our swords filled with anger, our rifles loaded with corrupted fervour The man who we met barely months ago, was a unifying banner. And now that he was out of the fight, shouts to avenge our general quickly turned the army into a vicious mob. The soldiers held nothing back. Surrendered soldiers were mercilessly killed, some in the most gruesome way possible. Civilian populations were also not spared either. The bloodbath was only stopped when the antidote of the Commodore's survival were spread, along with orders to stop and proceed with the next stage of the plan. 

After successfully taking over the city, we set up the siege cannons right there to shoot down the Rau've ships.  But by that point the battle was already over. Fearing for their warships, they left the planet, taking whatever rebels they could, but the rest were left for the wrath of the Ascendancy. May God have mercy on their souls, I mused, because the Ascendancy certainly wouldn't. 

As for the Commodore, he survived without any long-term consequences after a surgery. He returned to the battlefield to roaring cheers of the soldiers. His name, the Ascendancy, victory. Because we had lived. Now, we trusted him. We were the Specky Sergeant's dear soldiers. We march with him, to the ends of the universe.

And we would.

The extraordinary service of young Alexander Kherol at Ponin led to his promotion to Rear-Admiral. It was only the first of his great achievements. Years of terror to be instilled on his enemies was yet to come...