Gunnar, please forgive me. I tried to keep our boy as far away from them as I could, mused Ortrun deep in regret as Silvan slipped the folded sheet of paper out of its sleeve. Straightening out the letter in his hands, for a few minutes the words it contained belonged to his eyes only. His arms shook, but in the two minutes it had taken him to finish reading the letter, they had become still again.
“What is it, Silvan? What are they ordering you to do?”
“Mother, it’s not an order,” he said, passing the letter to her. “It’s… an invitation.”
Her white-and-gold gown seemed to glisten under the light of the large lamp in the corner of the room. Such mourning garments were worn by the loved ones of deceased Titanians for one month, but Ortrun had gone a step further. She’d worn the same kind of gowns in honour of her late husband for nine years, coming up on 10.
Dear Duke Silvan Karesti of Titan, the letter began with a greeting of respect.
I’m sure you are caught up with the events of the past few days. Many of our brave men and women have lost their lives in what I can only describe as a perfect storm of catastrophic variables. The people that they should have come home to and the people that they serve need closure. They need a source of stability and continuity during the bloody days ahead. War is inevitable with the Martians and Terrans, but I do not want it to go any longer than it must in order to quell the threat that keeps trying to trample over us. We risk the lives of many more proud, dutiful soldiers and each day of fighting means more reasons for the other side to hate us and crush the progress we have made since your uncle His Highness Emperor Henrik’s rule.
However, not all of our brothers and sisters see it that way. Most notably is the great noble Calvo family. It is in their best interest that this war goes on as long as possible, and they will take every advantage to move into recesses of influence to make it that way. With the loss of so many of the Central Council in one event, they will certainly make it so that one of their line remains on it. They have many friends that they can count on throughout the Empire. I have no power it to stop it. Ever since your grandfather His Highness Emperor Haldor vanquished the Solich bloodline, the Calvo family has slowly begun to pack the niche they once filled.
So, Your Grace Silvan, I offer you a proposition. Since you are a direct male-line descendant of the Karesti bloodline, you can be appointed directly to the Council, bypassing the elections that every other prospective member must be part of to have at the chance at being represented by it. Your presence alone can deter them and their schemes. You can be the factor that prevents the war from becoming unreasonable and avaricious. Of course, you will be given the choice to step down once General Karesti completes her recovery. You may also choose to pass up on this offer altogether. But I advise that you try to think of all the possibilities that may come about if you do not take it up. Please send your response back to Headquarters by this evening.
Yours sincerely,
Lieutenant General Fabian Salomon
Acting General of the Titanian Military
“Silvan,” Ortrun asked once she finished reading the missive. “Are you aware of who the Calvo family are?”
“Aren’t they the second-wealthiest family in the Empire? After us?” he shrugged.
“That, they are,” Ortrun confirmed. “But they were once the third wealthiest. In between the reigns of both Karesti and Solich dynasties, they had consistently remained the third wealthiest. They were the one noble family that consistently kept their ranking in clout. Do you know why?”
“I don’t.” he shook his head.
“Because for the past millennium they have been the sole manufacturer of weaponry in the Empire. They have also dabbled in armor construction, but that is mostly done by the smaller noble families and the lucky odd commoner or two. They benefit from all wars, be they civil or against outside threats.”
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“They thrive…” wondered Silvan aloud, remembering when he was ordered by his cousin to witness the execution of a respected soldier only a few short months earlier. “Off of the blood of our people? Is that what you mean to say, mother?”
“Yes, my son,” Otrun nodded her head. “You get it. Your cousins, aunts and uncles have died with their weaponry. They’ve killed with their weaponry. No matter how you flip it, it’s always their weaponry. Your father too… they say it was a malfunction of a Calvo system that hadn’t been tested properly…”
Ortrun blinked the slowly coming tears out of her eyes. A decade on, the pain of losing the only man she had ever loved was still fresh in her heart. She knew it wasn’t simply a technical issue that had killed her husband, but a part of it, nonetheless. Silvan took the letter out of her hands and put them on an armrest. He took both of her hands in his and held them tightly.
“What should I do, Mother?” he asked with sincerity.
“What do you want to do, Silvan?” she asked. “To be in league with them… I can’t force you to do that. Whatever you feel is right… I’ll support you.”
Silvan straightened his spine and looked ahead at the blank purple wall behind his mother. She could practically feel a surge of Reserve rushing under the skin of his fingers, a sign of genuine resolve.
“I’m going to take up the Lieutenant General’s offer. I won’t let them kill more people unnecessarily. Thank you for telling me everything I needed to know, Mother.”
--
With clear breathing masks over their faces and hefty baggage in their hands, Meinrad and Klaudia stepped out of the vehicle that had brought them from the Solich castle to the four-storey housing building where the families of the Frei Squad resided on a quiet street in Xanadu City. At the front door were two men in ordinary Titanian coats and pants, but the two humans knew they were all but that. They were undercover guards from the military, their appearance meant to draw attention away from the building’s purpose as a home for non-Titanians. In fact, this was the only building on Titan where Terrans could live as non-slaves or soldiers.
The two plainclothes soldiers exchanged nods with the two humans, allowing them entry into the building.
“Well,” Meinrad sighed as he brought himself before the elevators alongside his colleague. “Here we are. Home.”
“Yep,” Klaudia agreed without looking at him, her eyes void of energy. “Home. I guess.”
“I can’t imagine the look on Eveline’s face when she finally sees her big sister again.” Meinrad said warmly, sensing Klaudia’s angst. The elevator doors screeched open, the boy allowing the girl to enter it first.
For the first time since the Anbieter announced the assault from his manor, she felt what she believed was a true smile on her face. To her, nothing on Terra had seemed genuine. None of the interactions, emotions, actions or words she said or done felt like they came from the bottom of her heart. But they weren’t supposed to. She and Meinrad had been sent on a mission—to locate successors to Kallista Laine’s movement and gather whatever information they could. And as a bonus, neutralise their top brass as well. They had accomplished everything they needed to. The only shortcoming was that Meinrad had waited two years to report back to Colonel Gerlachus of their success. But from then on, she wondered what would become of their lives. Would she live the life she had envisioned, or be thrown back into even more bloodshed? No. None of that mattered for the moment. All she wanted was to see her sister and parents.
Meinrad’s words of encouragement to Klaudia left him feeling bitter inside. Unlike his colleague, Meinrad only had his parents. He had never experienced the ups and downs of having a sibling, from the unruly fights to the warm hugs. To share blood with someone like that and to enjoy the experiences others took for granted, he was never able to. But that was why he wished to see Klaudia happy, more than anything. She was the closest thing he had to a sibling. He had only wished that he came to known her through better circumstances.
“I’ll see you later, Klaudia,” Meinrad said as the elevator opened up to the third floor, an area of the building that the Glynn family shared with the Ruders’.
“Bye, Meinrad.” Klaudia said, the doors leaving her secluded.
“Ah, well if it isn’t the boy wonder Meinrad!” a cheerful older man said as his son walked with him in the outside corridors.
“Welcome back, Meinrad!” Launo said, holding an arm wide open as the other was wrapped around by his father’s.
“Oh, it’s you two!” Meinrad said, letting go of his luggage. He pulled Lucia’s younger brother in tightly, being careful that he didn’t leave his father’s grasp. “Well, Launo. You aren’t so little anymore.”
The half-Titanian 12-year-old was already a finger width taller than the taller-than-average Terran boy, but he remembered his age as he squeezed him back.
“Am I supposed to stay small?” Launo chuckled as Meinrad pulled away from him.
“No one is,” Meinrad answered, before being pulled into the elder Ruders male’s embrace. “It’s so nice to see you, Mr. Ruders.”
“You seem so much older,” Mr. Ruders noted, hearing his voice, and looking at the very subtle lines on his face. “What happened?”
“What do you mean?” Meinrad asked.
“What did you see? On that planet?” the elderly man asked. It was obvious that with his age and copious amounts of trauma, he wasn’t in the greatest state of mind.
“I’d love to talk to you about it, but first I’d like to rest.”
“Oh…” Mr. Ruders said, allowing Meinrad to pull away. “Of course. Well, you go do that.”