the darkness of space consumed them.  The screen went blank.  Tears were running down the Commander's cheeks.  "Each ship carried a hundred thousand women and children," he whispered, "going to be with their men on the secure planets behind their lines.  They never got there, any of them!  We sent a note of apology but how do you apologize for killing three hundred thousand women and children?"
"In a war," the old Speaker comforted, "we make mistakes, tragic mistakes.  As good as our intelligence is, they make mistakes.  They said the convoy was carrying supplies vital to The Imperials.  If the information had been correct, your strike would've been heroic.  We repeatedly asked The Empire to let us know where their colony ships and medical ships were.  'Til this incident they wouldn't.  Now they do.
You can't blame yourself forever for something that wasn't your fault.  You can't go into battle time and time again, to die, you can't refuse yourself a woman's love because you do not think you deserve an heir."
The Speaker waved his hand and the image of the three colony ships appeared again.  "The Imperials," he continued, "understand duty.  They understand courage.  Not one there blames you. Their anger has long faded.  Don't you think it's time for the anger in you to fade?"
"You know, you're really good!"  the Commander remarked.  He looked at the screen again and half heartedly waved his hand.  To his surprise it went blank.  "I will seek peace with them," he announced, "each and every one in the proper time and place.  Thank you, sir!  Good bye!"
He turned around and walked from the hall.  Stopping in the outer chamber he rested a few moments.  A young Speaker came up to him.  "May I help you, sir?" he asked.
"No," the Commander said.  "The old Speaker helped me...the one who used to be the Commander, though it amazes me a Speaker was ever a Squadron Commander!"
"I beg your pardon," the young Speaker replied, "but we have no such Speaker here!  None of us have ever had military experience."
The Commander looked down and noticed the young Speaker was holding several pieces of leather.  "What are those?" he asked.
"Oh, bookmarks," the young Speaker answered.  "I'm handing them out to visitors.  They were made by children.  Each has its own little message.  Here's a nice one, quite simple but from the heart;  'I love you.'  A child's blessing.  Would  you like it?"
The Commander took it.  It was new, perfect.  The two holes for the tags had not been punched in it yet but he knew some day they would be.  He looked back to the Most Sacred Place.  "Yes," he said, "you understand.  You understand better than anyone else can!"
A month later the offensive everyone had been waiting for came.  In ten years The Empire was pushed back to its capital.  All the Republic had lost was regained, and more.  A Commander who no longer wanted to fight returned with his wife and children to Eldrometa.  He knew some day, some how, by some means he didn't understand he would have to step through time and meet a very troubled young man.
He became the most respected Speaker on that world.  He told no one what he waited for.  The day after it came he knew his work was done, laid down on a bench in The Great Temple's park, and journeyed to That Other Realm Of Existence.  There, he found no enemies, only Friends he had not known.

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