Line Cmdr. Sundeelia: Remembrance, Part 4: “Departure”
Understand, dear reader, I am not seeking sympathy or even your empathy in the sharing of these remembrances. This is simply a process by which I can remember and perhaps help others by sharing my experiences during the ancient Galactic wars. I have been told by my mentors and my own awareness that many who work alongside President Trump and other “White Hats” are some of those who also fought in these long distant wars.
In this matter, distance does not make the heart grow fonder. The repressed memories of loss and violation of one’s family, country, and star system go deep. Anyone of you who have fought in wars during recent times will understand the effect of post-traumatic stress syndrome experienced by those who have been wounded and have watched their comrades die around them. You wonder why you survived. You take on a needless sense of blame for an event not of your own making. And some are driven mad by the atrocities they have witnessed, coming from both sides of the battle. War is not honorable or decent, but sometimes it needs to be fought to save your own people from extinction or being taken over by a repressive enemy. It is more difficult for those whose ancient civilization has never needed to fight before, to be suddenly confronted by an aggressive enemy that threatens all that you hold near and dear. Such was the case of the Sirian people when we were first attacked at the first incursion against our people and star system. In the years that followed, we became hardened to war, as all of our people endured great hardships and loss of family members. We were also determined to win ourselves free. We knew what became of a people who allowed these interlopers to subjugate their people… slavery. And as devoted followers of the Father God, we did not wish to lose our freedom to live and pray as we wished to… so we chose to fight back.
In the years that followed the death of my brother and the completion of my training under the auspices of the Pleiadian Commander, Lord Lyonell, I had become a tough and canny warrior, succeeding in surprising our enemy many times. Thanks to my training in the “art” of war, I became hardened to its necessities. It was only when I visited my Father, Lord Chananda, when he took me aside to visit the grave of my brother, Tazo, that I allowed any emotion to overtake me. I made that pilgrimage every year on the day when my brother and his ship were shot down. Tazo died. I didn’t. I was far away and couldn’t save him. Any soldier would tell you that I was suffering from survivor’s guilt and they would be right… but we were too busy fighting to pause to think and consider what this seemingly endless war cost us personally and as a people.
One day my Father took me aside. I was on a well-needed break between campaigns to drive the enemy out of Sirian space. As I gazed upon my Father’s serene face, I knew that he had something of great significance to tell me. We were standing in a quiet garden, filled with the blossoms of pear trees and wisteria. I realized that spring had arrived and that I had been too preoccupied to see it, so much had I changed from the little boy who used to play in this same garden with his younger brother. I blinked back tears and concentrated on my Father’s compassionate sea-green eyes.
“You still miss him, don’t you?” came my Father’s soft voice.
“Yes…and the others who have been lost to us,” I added, choking down my emotions.
It may surprise some to know that at this moment it had been 300 years since my brother had died. I was a man full-grown, with a son and daughter of my own. Due to our war status, Tazo had decided not to take a mate until after his 125th birthday. He died at 118 years. Depending on our caste, status, and life plan, our people lived typically from 300 to 700 years of age. Few made it to old age in these days, but I managed to preserve the family line in the person of my son. My Father was ageless, extremely long-lived, but such were the Sons of Krishna, of a high spiritual evolution. I was honored to be his son, but personally felt I fell short of his high ideals and dedication to the service and the people.
“Delos… your mind wanders…” Father’s deep resonant voice broke through my thoughts, once again.
Again I looked into those sea-green eyes, “What is it, my Father?”
Lord Chananda smiled, startling me a bit. I stared at him closely. Yes, I detected a faint smile on his full crimson lips. “My son, we have discovered a way to protect our world.”
“How is that so?” I queried.
The tall lord smiled, again, a bit wider…”It was from your own son that this idea was conceived.”
Delos thought, “Ah, my son… the priest.”
The green eyes twinkled as my Father looked at me. “Yes, the priest… who may have found a way to protect our world…forever!”
“How so?” Okay, now I was curious. I had not seen my son for years. He spent most of his time in the great Temple that stood at the highest point of our great city, Sirust. This was the Temple dedicated to Lord Krishna, Son of Vishnu, and our great religious leader of our people.
For those of you with little or no awareness of Sirius A or our capital city, Sirust, I give you the words of one of our more recently incarnated daughters, the Princess Trillia Gia Cavioush:
“The largest city on Sirius is called Sirust. If you would combine New York City with Paris and add Los Angeles and Mexico City you would come close to the size of our city. It is approximately 1000 miles wide. Most of our land is tropical and at times feels hot and sticky. Yet there is a section where the grains, vegetables, and our fruits are grown that has a cold winter with strong winds. Some of the plants we seeded upon your land are wisteria, lilies, daffodils and citrus fruits. We also brought to Earth our falcons and peacocks.
The geography of our isle is one of the soft rolling hills in the farm areas and our largest city Sirust sits along a large ocean where we harvest seaweed and fish such as herring and what you call shrimp. All of our temples are built atop our holy hillsides with Lord Krishna’s temple upon the tallest. We have our gold mines on the other side of our isle. We eat a diet of fish grown in fish farms along the coast of the seas as well as raw sushi. We enjoy greens and kelp, citrus fruits, spicy vegetables, rice and rice noodles, puddings and many enjoyable liquids.” https://thestarseedhighway.com/sirius/
Ah, dear reader, you may wonder at how I can wander to and fro along the timeline of my lives…it is easy. Just look into the center of your being and discover there your own personal copy of the Akash, an electronic record of all thoughts, deeds, hopes, past, and future that exist in the eternal Now of Creation.
I backed away from Lord Chananda and wearily asked him, point-blank, “How can we protect our people from these enemies of ours?”
The tall lord stepped away from his son’s side and pulled down a branch of a blooming tree so he might smell the flowers. “We will think a forcefield into being, as a collective.”
I was astonished at his answer. It was true; our people were powerful psychics, but to collectively bring such a forcefield into being? I could not fathom it but felt my Father’s sincerity and belief that it could be achieved. I was dumbfounded, speechless.
For a moment, I pulled at a wisp of wisteria bloom that dangled in front of my eyes, staring blindly out at the garden I no longer saw in front of me…only seeing the countless dead who had died as a result of the attacks of a relentless enemy. I was appalled at what I regarded to be pure foolishness. At that moment, I had even lost faith in my beloved Father, who had ever been the source of wisdom and comfort for me, especially after the loss of my brother and the death of my mother a year later. My heart felt cold, removed… distant.
My voice…my telepathic voice…was cold and distant as I spoke to my Father. “I must leave now and say goodbye to my mate, who awaits me in our quarters.” I bowed abruptly, turned and nearly ran from the garden.
Before I reached our rooms, I slowed down, thinking…”I should go and apologize to my father.”
Still, I continued on, soon reaching the rooms I shared with my mate, where we had raised our two children during the times when I was home between campaigns and battles.
My mate stood there quietly. Her long white-blonde hair was gathered up into a casual chignon, with a light tumble of curls resting on one shoulder. She was dressed in a simple long dress, with a minimum of jewelry, and her gold earrings dangling beneath her fine light hair.
She intuitively knew my different moods and so she spoke softly now. “You are leaving, again, my love?”
“Yes, my love,” I replied, tenderly, wondering at the sensitivity of this lovely woman who had shared my life for so many years. I traced her strong cheekbone with a forefinger. “We have had reports of enemy ships near our outer defenses. Since I am the Commander of the Fleet, I must go out myself and investigate.”
Another pair of green eyes gazed intently into mine, bringing up the memory of my recent encounter with my Father. My mate, Anya, caught my thought… “You saw your Father?”
“Yes.” She knew from my tone that the subject was closed for now, but still, she ventured a question, “Did he tell you of our plan?”
I stared at her somewhat sharply. She started back and then regained her composure. Anya had been brought up with the most exquisite of manners.
“Ah,” was all she said. She understood that I did not approve, but then she would. She knew me well.
“When do you leave?” she asked, changing the subject.
I replied, “Tomorrow morning.” I continued on relentlessly, “The Golden Lily is returning from its latest cruise to Sirius B and C. They’re going to pick me up by shuttle at the starbase outside of Sirust.”
Anya nodded, her delicate face subdued. I knew that she suffered whenever I was gone long and for that I was sorry, but I was a warrior and knew my duty. Or at least I thought I knew it… As a high caste Sirian woman, Anya also knew her duty. I was sorry for what she was about to go through, but I knew that she would do so with all the grace and dedication to our customs that she could muster.
What I did not tell my relatives, what I could not tell them were my plans for an all-out offensive against our enemy. The plan was to remove their presence from our star system forever. I knew I was going into battle, yet I hesitated to share the knowledge that I would not be returning, ever again to these people I loved. I was going to my death.
Thus we come to the end of this part of my remembrances. There is more to come…
Once I was a Sirian warrior; today I am a Pleiadian woman, a crew member on a great Pleiadian flagship. No, I am not allowed out on the many ships that patrol your space. Nor do I engage the “enemy” in battle. Given my past lives, these things are forbidden me by our Head Commander and my uncle, Lord Adrigon VaCoupe.
Now, I endeavor to clear those memories of the ancient wars from my Light Body so I may continue on with my soul evolution and serve my chosen people with an even greater capacity for devotion and dedication. So life continues… and so our lives touch those whose essences were a part of our own long ago.
Peace to all,
I AM Sundeelia VaCoupe, Line Cmdr., of the Pleiadian Flagship, The White Winds
© All Rights Reserved, Elizabeth Ayres Escher, www.bluedragonjournal.com
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