Upon returning home, his sister Julia greeted him happily and handed him a piece of paper. It was her most recent report card. “Look, what did I say? All 100s.”

Julia was a bright student, and Bryce loved to brag about her to his coworkers, saying, “Once Julia is in the workforce, I’ll quit my job and take care of my father.” He had the utmost trust that she would do well in the future and that he could depend on her.

Snapping out of his daze, he praised her, “That's amazing! I’ll definitely cook something good tonight to celebrate.” She did a little spin and an exaggerated bow. “Why, thank you, good sir,” she said with a smirk.

Bryce shook his head and greeted his father, who was watching an old rerun on the couch. “I’m home,” he said lightly, trying not to trigger his father's PTSD. His father slowly turned his head, nodded, and returned to his show.

Bryce glanced at the television screen, which depicted a heartbreaking scene between a couple saying their goodbyes as the boyfriend was deployed to war. Tearing his eyes away, Bryce headed into the kitchen to make dinner. He was clumsier than usual, his mind preoccupied with how to bring up the job transfer to his family. He couldn't detail the mission but could reveal he’d be gone for up to five years. Bryce had never been away from his family for more than a month, making this news shocking.

After dropping the pan for the third time, Julia peered into the kitchen. “What’s the matter?” she asked worriedly.

“Nothing. Could you help me set up the table? I have something to talk to you and Dad about.” Julia nodded and set up the table as Bryce sighed, trying to figure out how to break the news.

Julia wheeled their father over to the table, who did not look too happy about eating away from his show. Bryce gave him an apologetic nod. His father gruffed in response. “Let’s eat first; I don’t want the food to get cold,” Bryce said, stalling. They ate in silence, the only noise being the television's soft sobs of a woman. Bryce could not taste anything, feeling sick with guilt.

Julia spoke first, “What is it that you have to tell us? You are making me nervous by dragging this out. Is it bad?”

Bryce put down his utensils, took a deep breath, and cleared his throat. “I have been transferred. Not by choice, but I’ll be away for some time.” Bryce paused to let them digest this. “For how long?” his father asked dryly.

“They said no longer than five years.”

Julia shot up from the table. “Five years?! You have to be kidding me!” She was enraged. Bryce covered his face with his hands, resting his elbows on the table. Julia started pacing and asked, “What kind of job are they making you do? Is it dangerous?”

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Bryce remained quiet, not wanting to reveal how dangerous the job could be. His father patted his shoulder, the first time since his accident. Tears welled up in Bryce's eyes. “I am sorry…” he choked out. Julia hugged him from the side and sighed quietly. “Just be safe,” she said with grief.

A vibrating sound came from Bryce’s pocket, an unknown number, most likely the person Frank was talking about. Shakily standing up, he said, “I have to take this.”

Stepping into his room, he clicked the accept button. “Hello?”

“This is Lorris. I work with Frank, and you have an appointment at the penitentiary for Orion Voss.” Bryce confirmed. “Are you available tomorrow at 9 a.m.? We can give you thirty minutes max and a car will be waiting for you afterward, where you will meet with Frank.”

Bryce checked his calendar. Tomorrow he was supposed to take the day off for his sister's final track meet. He sighed, hating to break promises, “Can we meet another time?” He could hear Lorris typing swiftly on her keyboard. “The only other open spot is at 2 p.m. tomorrow. Does that work?” Bryce hoped that she would have slots for another day but it seemed that Frank wanted to work more quickly than he originally had thought. “I’ll just do the 9 a.m. slot.” He hoped to get it over with as fast as possible and at least make the awards ceremony.

The call ended, and he heard retreating footsteps. Julia had been eavesdropping, which didn't surprise him. Entering the dining room, Julia was clearing plates and putting leftovers into containers.

“I got a call from work. They need me to go in at 9 a.m. tomorrow.” Julia nodded silently and kept busy. His dad was already dozing off by the television. Bryce smiled at the illusion of normalcy and started helping Julia with the dishes.

"Are you going to miss my track meet tomorrow?" Julia knew the answer but wanted to hear it from Bryce himself.

"I’ll try to make the awards ceremony but I can’t make any promises. Sorry- I am such a terrible brother."

Julia huffed and said, "Stop apologizing. It’s this good-for-nothing war that's the problem! We clearly are not going to win with how few resources and technology we have compared to the other side. This war has ruined our family, and now they’re taking you too. It is not fair." She poured out her grievances.

The war between Vecarro and Aitania had lasted seven years. Vecarro struggled to get resources as more planets sided with Aitania. By the third year, Vecarroan citizens called for an end to the war, but they were quickly silenced. No one dared to publicly oppose the war since then, but behind closed doors, everyone agreed it was as good as over.

"Perhaps the tides will turn?" Bryce said lightly. "What if the government has a master plan to reveal soon?"

Julia laughed and elbowed Bryce’s side, clearly taking it as a joke. "Let’s just finish these dishes. I have to put Dad to bed." Bryce nodded, also tired and wanting to end this disastrous day.

"Inmate 296B, you will have a visitor tomorrow morning. Behave." A prison guard knocked on Orion's cell bars, making a loud clanging sound and waking Orion from his unpleasant sleep.

"Lovely, can they take me out of this shithole?" he said with a forced grin, annoyed about being woken up.

"Prepare 296B for more community service in the yard," the prison guard said into his walkie-talkie.

"Crap," Orion covered his body with his thin blanket, in a more foul mood. "Damn Vecarroes."