The bridge over the river Yangzhao had crumbled, its solid edifice being now nothing more than rubble and scrap washed away into the Thean ocean.

A few miles north of its position stood the Piper’s encampment – a series of bonfires flickering against the night. The army of freed slaves was finally beginning to feel that their trials might soon be over. Liquor pilfered from the offices of the Overseers was rolled out by Marvin and now sloshed within their parched throats, while others even now kept up their training, waiting for the inevitable command to take the city that loomed in the distance, across a clear field and unblocked road that ran from the old bridge to its venerable gates.

Saku – the seat of House Hitogi.

Within those walls walked the envious Masters shitting themselves at the prospect of the liberators’ army that was marching their way. Their reserve forces were shattered. Even with their sturdy walls, they wouldn’t stand against the might of the Pale Lady and the Shai-Alud. Nothing, not even the screamer killer squads of Keth-Tari had managed to bring them down. And so, as they buried their loved ones – their Brothers and Sisters in arms who had been lost in the battle of Yangzhuo – they still retained hope in their hearts.

The light of dawn would bring the greatest triumph the Pipers had ever seen – the overthrowing of a Prince’s city and the righteous slaughter of its people.

So when Marcus Graham walked among them, they hailed him, young and old, as the hero who was about to lead them into another victory. But, oddly enough, he waved them away – his mind seemingly elsewhere. He trekked through the camp like a man possessed by the spirit of Akira himself – a man whose eyes were locked in a prison of war he couldn’t break from. Most of the Pipers simply but this down to their General’s stern demeanor. They couldn’t imagine the pressures of leadership just as he probably couldn’t imagine the stresses of bondage had had on them. They therefore let him pass without comment or questions as he made his way to the human section of the camp, towards another man who was currently drinking alone.

At the edge of the forest, Marvin sat cross legged, looking out at the looming giant of Saku, his mind meandering around every crevice and turret of its towers. The strange star-shape the Prince had constructed as the wall perimeter always seemed odd to the human once-farmer.

“A star-fort,” the voice of his commander suddenly said from behind. “An almost perfect replica at that.”

Marvin turned to see Marcus standing before him, weary beyond his years.

“Aye?” he said. “You’ve seen this kinda defense before?”

“A few examples. Never one so authentic,” Marcus replied before nodding at the bottle Marvin was holding in his hand. “Room for one more?”

“Always, lad. Pull up a patch of dirt and quench yer thirst on this.”

He let Marcus take a liberal swig of his drink – a heavy, vomit-inducing concoction whatever it was – but one which provided a real punch to the gut once you’d downed enough.

“H-holy…” Marcus coughed. “That’s – that’s quite a kick.”

“Har!” Marvin roared. “Tell me you ain’t a drinker without telling me you ain’t a drinker.”

“I’m more of a scotch kinda guy.”

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“A wha?”

“It’s a blended – you know what? Never mind. You’d have to taste it to believe it. It’s not really a ‘hard drinker’s’ libation. You drink it in sips, savoring the taste.”

“Huh. There ain’t never been a spirit I ain’t tasted. But that don’t sound like it could get you fucked up quick enough.”

“You’d be surprised,” Marcus smiled.

Both men then looked out at the city that was their destiny – each man wondering, secretly, where the other’s thoughts were going, here.

“I owe you my thanks,” Marcus said. “The Hakka carts won the battle when I wasn’t there to lead. We owe our victory at the bridge in large part to you.”

“Ach, don’t be thanking me, lad,” Marvin said as he took another swig of booze. “That ain’t the way we Pipers think. All together or nothing at all – that’s the Piper way.”

“Mari’s way, you mean.”

“Our way, lad,” Marvin laughed – a little awkwardly this time. “Sure, the Pale Lady and the Matriarch, Amygdalis rest her, might have started the movement. But we’re the ones who broke the chains, then the chains of our Brothers. And now you’re part of that, too.”

“Forgive me, Marvin. I didn’t mean to sound like I doubt your mission.”

“Not at all, Marc. It’s your mission too after all, ain’t it?”

Marcus looked at the wrinkled face of the man. Every ridge and scar in his skin was probably carved there as a result of years of hardship working in fields, then Yokun camps, and now on the battlefield. But was there something in there that also spoke of compassion?

“You know why I came to this part of the camp tonight?” Marcus asked. “It’s because I wanted to be among my own kind for the first time since ever coming to this world. It sounds selfish. Probably even xenophobic. But I think there’s some comfort in feeling part of a group, even if that group is full of people you’ve never even met before. There’s power in that, don’t you think?”

“…aye, lad,” Marvin replied slowly. “Aye…I, I suppose there is.”

Marcus took the bottle from him and gulped down another mouthful of the rotten stuff. He then gestured to the waving humans huddled round their bonfires behind them.

“You’ve all managed to build a community out of shared pain,” he said. “It’s our suffering that brings us together if nothing else. That’s why you all exist under one banner – that of the Pipers. That’s why you’re stronger than the Yokun Masters. Unity has made you powerful.”

Marvin had seen intensity in a man’s eyes before, but what he now saw in the face of the Shai-Alud was a fire the had been lit in the depths of the earth, among the ratmen, where the man sitting before him had committed thousands upon thousands to their deaths. Only now, sharing a drink with this man, could Marvin see that his own advanced age meant nothing in the wake of this ‘lad’s’ wartime experience.

“But what happens when the Yokun start suffering because of us?” Marcus asked. “What happens when their cause becomes survival as opposed to the preservation of their Empire? You think they’ll take their impending extinction sitting down? No – every man, woman, and child in their cities will fight against us with just as much ferocity as we’ve fought to break the chains that bound you all. I’ve seen it in my own world. I’ve seen it here, too. I’ve made mistakes, Marvin, that I don’t intend to ever make again. And one mistake I’ve made is believing that one hate is better than another’s’ hate.”

Marvin leaned forward, caught up in the Shai-Alud’s sudden rigor.

“Why are you telling me this, Marcus?”

“Because vindictive slaughter will win you nothing but slavery to your base, primal instincts. They won’t help you when the time comes to finally negotiate a new, lasting peace. If you want a new world, Marvin. If you want to see your home village again, and still be the man you are now, I need you to promise me something: lead your men to victory in the battle to come, but do not allow them to assault the civilian populace of the city.”

Marvin’s eyes went wild as he heard the command, his face looking past Marcus to the jovial men behind.

“Look, I ain’t one for vindictiveness, but…how can I stop them from taking matters into their own hands? They’ve watched their parents suffer at the hands of Yokun.”

“They’ve watched them suffer at the hands of slavers, Marvin. If they don’t understand that distinction, then how is it they’re able to work together with Takeshi and his unit?”

Marvin licked his lips, chewing the thought in his mind.

“You’re asking me to protect the enemy, son.”

“I’m asking you to consider what moral high ground you’ll have to stand on if you stand back and allow the wholesale slaughter of innocents.”

“Heh. You should speak to Karliah on that front. For a lass like her, there ain’t no innocent Yokun in a city of Hitogi.”

“I’m not talking to her,” Marvin stated, grabbing the bottle from Marvin’s pudgy hands and tossing it away. “I’m talking to you, Marvin. Because I can trust you. Human to human. There’s good in you, and there’s a spirit of compromise in you that’s yet to be broken. You’re the man who’s the first to tell a campfire story and lead the units in song. You’re the man they look to for a positive outlook on any situation. You’re the man who mucks in with his men and won’t balk at the prospect of sharing his booze with his commanding officer.”

Marvin blinked. “You’d really trust a man like that?”

“That’s the only kind of man I can trust.”

Marvin looked at him like he was being asked to rein in a bull before it was released to meet its Matador.

“Shit Marcus,” he said. “You have a higher opinion of me than I do.”

He stood up, wobbled, and then extended a hand to his General.

“But – fine. I’ll back you. If only because yer a man who can handle his drink and still string more than two sentences together. The Prince though…him and his men are another story.”

Marcus was almost sure he wasn’t. But he accepted the hand of his comrade anyway.

“Leave them to me,” Marcus told him, looking out at the imposing city as dawn began to creep over the hills. “If we play this right, they won’t even be a problem.”