The day of the Shargara Conference neared. It was only two sleeps away. The Anbieter, Jay and Aulis worked tirelessly to reiterate which units would be stationed below which parts of the manor property, and which exit points they would use to take the Titanian delegation by surprise and create a quick slaughter. At least, as much of a slaughter as they could given their opponent’s sheer strength, technology and ability to mobilise. Once significant opposition closed in on the manor on that day, they would wait for Rask and his forces to deliver another beatdown, before retreating through the tunnels and get as far as they could. They knew that it would take at least a few days for the Titanians to make sense of what happened, especially with so many of their top brass expected to be present. They would take that chance to put together their next moves.
The day would appear to on as normal on the manor. Dozens of tenants living in the nearby village—or really just a more rural neighborhood of Shargara further from the city centre—would be out in the fields, harvesting the last of the summer’s crop as the growing season was winding down. Inside the manor, the Anbieter's servants would be setting up furniture and banners sent from the Ministry of Colonial Affairs to prepare the venue for the event. Some of them would clean around the house as usual, while others helped their master prepare his appearance for the visit of the Governor of Terra.
As he sat in front of a mirror, one servant styled his hair while another sprayed perfume over his suit.
“It’s been… so many years since I wore a formal uniform like this.” he told the man standing in front of him with a bottle of perfume in his hand.
“I know. It doesn’t feel natural to you.” Jay said.
“I’ve worn the same clothing as you and everyone else for the better part of three decades. It feels… disgusting, having to wear this.”
“You won’t have to for much longer…” Jay said. Egon couldn’t think of anything to respond to that. He knew the reality of the situation.
“Not to throw you to the wolves or anything but… when you told Ma the war’d be over soon, were you aware that you were lying?” the southerner man asked.
“You think that after being separated for two years, I’d hurt her more by telling her that it would be the last time she’d see me? Us Titanians… our lifespans are only about two-thirds that of the average humans. It doesn’t make sense for us to make connections outside our immediate family when we drop dead so—
“Living among us has made you Terran, brother,” Jay patted his master’s shoulder. “In some ways… I think you’re more human than us.”
Egon beamed at his foster brother’s remarks.
“I needed to hear that.” he said, putting his hand over Jay’s.
-
With his chin up and a practiced smile on his face, Egon Linden opened the front door to his humble home. Before him was a tall man in a suit of armor, and behind him were two armed guards. It was clear that despite his attire, he was not a soldier.
“Good evening, Governor Ness,” the host said, grasping his guest’s elbow in the Titanian way. “I’m pleased to have you here. Come in.”
Behind him, a small entourage of people holding box-like structures emitting flashing lights gawked at them. Cameras. A group of journalists had arrived to document as much as they were able to of this rare, if never before done, meeting.
“The pleasure’s all mine, Baron Linden.” the Governor said, his voice not very amused nor bored. He stepped inside and directed his guards to close the door behind them.
“Please, take a seat in the parlor room. I’ll have a servant pour you some chai.” Egon kindly offered, leading them to the room.
“Chai? I appreciate your politeness, but that beverage isn’t of the tastes of the mainland.” Ness declined, but it was really a rejection. A rejection of the Terran ways that had been imprinted on Egon.
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“Of—of course,” Egon accepted, guiding his guest and his guards through the entrance hall, where servants filed in and out of storage rooms, arranging chairs in rows and tables at the centre. “Well, where would you like to start?”
“I have orders to perform a quick inspection of the venue,” the Governor said. “I hope you won’t mind me taking a look around.”
“Not at all, Governor.” Egon said with a calm front. In reality, he was hoping that the Governor wouldn’t be too nosy, lest his secret tunnel entrances be found out. Ness was a blunt and straightforward man—the perfect kind of person to be running a Titanian territory.
--
“I gotta know what they’re talking about…!” Stefan whispered as he walked with his neck slightly bent forward with urgency.
“Are—are you out of your mind?” Meinrad said in a similar volume, trailing right behind him.
“I’d rather listen to them now and burn the guy and the rest of those freaks down later!” Stefan grumbled, fists clenched at his sides as he took a turn, where just up ahead a ladder bolted into the wall was situated, leading upstairs to the entrance through a painting.
“It isn’t our place to be—
“Meinrad,” Stefan said, stopping at the bottom of the ladder. “I’ve been told that… I’m an irrational person. That’s not something I totally disagree with. So, before I bash their heads in in a couple days… why don’t I give myself a purpose to?”
He really took Anwen’s words to heart, I guess.
“I’m not going to stop you,” Meinrad shrugged. “But consider that something of a reminder. You’re not getting another one.”
He’ll have to see the horrors of war himself. Can’t say I didn’t warn him.
“Thanks, but I won’t need one.” Stefan said.
“Suit yourself, pal.” Meinrad shrugged.
None of this will matter in a few days.
Stefan’s hands prepared to grab a rung, but the sounds of shuffling feet above him made him freeze. Meinrad, growing frustrated of his responsibility to watch over Stefan, was about to head back but did the same as the other boy.
“I see you’ve come across a painting of my parents.” Egon said with somewhat of a sigh.
“The Late Baron and Baroness…” Ness said. “How long has it been now? Twenty years?”
“It has.” Egon sighed.
“Unfortunate to hear. The Baron and Baroness worked hard to maintain our claim on this continent, as did your forefathers. I know you do the same.” he said.
Because they didn’t have a choice.
“Yeah,” Egon nodded. “I’m glad that they were able to instill their values in me before they were gone.”
“I can see that,” Ness beamed professionally, not necessarily exuding kindness. “Whoever painted this is an excellent practitioner of our arts.”
Stefan slowed down his breathing as much as he could. He could practically feel the man on top of him as he inched closer towards the wall with the art on it. The Anbieter knew Stefan was there, inferred by his previous behaviour.
“Indeed,” Egon said. He felt antsy. For someone who led the way to non-Titanians and non-southerners for two years, he felt like dashing out of the Governor’s presence and throwing furniture around. The conversation was far outside of his comfort zone. “Oh, by the way, you can take your armor off. It’s nice and cozy, no need to worry about your skin cracking under the brutal sun.”
“Oh, yes, of course.” the Governor said, retracting his helmet into his suit via Reserve-aided telekinesis, revealing a man in his early 40s. As a Titanian, he was practically elderly even though he still looked like he was in his prime. Any noticeable aging only happened in the last few months of a Titanian’s life, and many didn’t even get to that point by the end of their lives.
“Master!” a southern-accented man sung out from the kitchens. Egon and Ness turned their heads to see Jay standing outside the doors, holding a tray with two cups of hot, brown liquid in them. “Your chai is ready, as you requested.”
Ness subtly raised an eyebrow.
“Ah, well,” Egon chuckled. “I’d forgotten I had them prepare it while we were going around the rooms. I forget how good it tastes sometimes.”
“I… suppose a sip will be fine,” Ness relented, avoiding hurting his host’s sentiments. “To the parlor?”
“Right this way.” Egon said, allowing his guest and his guards to lead while he trailed. He gestured for Jay to follow them.
You saved me, Jay. Great thinking, Egon silently praised as he and his guests sat at chairs in the parlor. Jay left the tray on a table before taking his leave.
“Two things Lieutenant General Salomon asked me to tell you,” Ness said as he put down his cup, having forced down as much of the foreign beverage as he could in one gulp. “Firstly, this conference will be a media conference. That is, all the decisions related to it—you know, with requisitioning the land—it’s already been done on Titan by the Central Council. We’re only going to use the conference to spread the word.”
“Alright.” Egon nodded.
“And secondly, you have been asked by the Central Council themselves to prepare a short opening speech for the event. To start it off with a bang, in the words of Major General Sjogren, since you were born and raised here and can attest to the benefits the continent has for us. Do you get where I'm coming from?”
“I can do that. It'll be no problem at all, Governor.” Egon said readily. He was waiting for the chance to get such an opportunity. Instead of singing praises for riches of the Terran continent, he would declare war.