Post by EmperorMyric on Dec 28, 2023 12:00:28 GMT
Natar:
It was a sunny morning, you couldn’t have asked for a finer start to a day. The air was crisp, chilly even, but not freezing. The sound of wildlife chirping and chattering away was matched by the equally calming rustle of the dew-cooled breeze rushing through the long grass that flanked the lazy, cobbled road winding through the meadows. Beside the path, trees periodically stood guard like lazy sentries that gave shade and shelter to those pedestrians taking the trip.
Sat overlooking it all, basking in the dawning sun sat the quiet, yet grandiose home that ruled over these lands: Thalerno Hall. The approach to the house was a rudimentary one. Traditional attitudes to Teliran country homes was to isolate them from the clamour and troubles of the world beyond the pastures of nature. To that end, there were no roads nor landing pads, only a quaint, rolling bridlepath that took strollers up to the compound. The place was a virtual bubble from the chaos of the drama and din of politics beyond.
The family of that same name resided within and were expecting their guests. The Thalerno clan were older than their own country: Kalethia. They had persevered it all and for centuries been a name of respect, prestige, and honour. But they had for decades fallen upon hard times. Ousted from their places in national and international governments alike, humiliated among their peers and coerced by those that coveted their lost power. That decline had been initiated by none other than the Union of Worlds.
Since then the Thalerno’s had been awfully quiet. The family’s patriarch, the elder Massiney Thalerno, had been ousted by the Union of Worlds as the Administrator of Natar’s space operations and, with it, the house’s fall from grace had been determined. Now the Unionists were back, and this time they wanted to talk to Lord Thalerno, not oust him. He hadn’t replied to their official and unofficial requests for audience; instead his staff had confirmed their invitation to the manor on his behalf.
There was no sign of a welcome party, or anyone for that matter beside an old gardener in green overalls messing with the flowers some distance from the door, waiting outside for the Manor’s guests. Instead, the entrance to the place was firmly shut with only a large brass knocker, shining in the morning light, to greet a guest.
Khamir was a changed man.
He cycled up the path towards the mansion, no ornate top of the line antigrav bike for him, a traditional peddle bike had been his choice. Sweat covered his brow, he had been cycling up hill a while back but he enjoyed the physical nature of it. The Siege of the Embassies incident in Tesfeld had deeply affected Khamir, with him needing to have therapy back in Union space for well over several months.
But he had chosen to return to Natar after, he had merely stated he didn't want the rebels to win. He didn't want them to keep him from his job.
He had kept his had down though after coming back. He wasn't the official Union ambassador anymore, that title had fallen to someone else, another poor soul. No, Khamir had come back as a diplomatic liaison, working with various ASN governments on advisory roles or communication between the official ambassador and said governments. He wasn't sure if it suited him yet, in all honesty he would very much like to retire to somewhere like this.
The peddling helped keep the anxiety at bay. After all Khamir had a hand in Thalerno's ousting. He didn't want the man to be ousted, he only believed he was doing the right thing for Natar. Now that Arcamavir was in power...
He sighed to himself as he finally approached the manor. Pulling up and placing his bike by the side of the property. He wasn't dressed in official uniform, instead wearing some of the local casual garb which he found comfortable. He straightened himself and tidied himself from the ride before finally knocking on the great door with the brass knocker.
Each bang on the large wooden doorway emanated a thunderous boom that resonated from the other side. Even so, with a place as large as this, there was no certainty anyone could’ve heard it. Nearly a minute went by before the firm, metallic clunking from the entry indicated the deactivation of several locks from within. With a groaning creak the door pulled ajar, only a little, for the head of an old, Teliran woman to emerge from the other side. It was clear by how little she opened the door that she was neither certain of her visitor nor trusting of his intent.
“Yes, can I help you, young man?” She called out from the gap, in spite of Khamir’s own age.
"Yes, I am here to see the master of the house. I am expected"
He had puffed himself up to look important and play the part.
"Ambassador Khamir, or rather ex-ambassador"
He was still not used to the fact he did not hold his old station even after all this time. Khamirs entire life had been changed at that First contact event, he had seen these people grow into something truly unique, he could not help but feel almost like a proud parent, or even one of them entirely.
Still it had come with its pitfalls, Khamir just hoped that Thalerno had not invited him here to kill him or something outrageous.
Giving a somewhat steely look, the old lady nodded. Soon enough the door creeped open to give access to Khamir. Before him waited an entrance hall, grandiose in size and lined with antiques. Nothing here seemed news, it was like the place had been a time capsule preserved from centuries past in perfect stasis. Oil paintings lined the walls, telling stories of great lords and ladies in their prime. The only thing that lit up their faces was the mild flickering of chandelier candles from high above.
“I’ll be a moment… I will go and find him…” Khamir’s escort explained before the elderly woman went hobbling off, up some stairs, and disappearing through a side door.
Khamir was left with the echoing ticking of some distant clock from a place unseen. Every door was shut to him, bar one: A small passage door leading to what looked like a cupboard room to the side. Its door was ajar and, from within, a warm glow of a light left on emitted. The room inside was small, little bigger than a boiler room, but its walls were cased with photos, pictures and cut-out column articles.
The storyboard told a story hitherto unseen. It started with photos so old that they lacked colour, first presenting the fuzzy representation of what was clearly a young Teliran boy with his mother and father. In the next photos were a young man, clad in military garb from a different time, one of bolt-action rifles and propeller planes. A later photo presented a proudly suited middle-aged figure, surrounded by similarly pleased peers, all in arms and smiling for their camera shot, the first representatives of the ASN.
The same Teliran man reached his zenith under the glow of the room’s lightbulb as a painted portrait proudly mantled an older Thalerno, his portrait after election to Administrator of the Space Authority; followed by a grainy, colour-drenched polaroid of him and Captain Volkus in the snows of Aphanesia as he handed his Talisman over to the Union.
The last wall showed the end to this story.
Over a dozen different photos were pinned, now clear in resolution. Stood at the podium of the ASN was Thalerno; his head cowed in shame as a newspaper clipping, cut out below, declared:
“Thalerno ousted over peace proposal, Union Intervention empowers coup!”
A light cough from behind indicated that the old Administrator himself had arrived. Turning around, Khamir would be met with neither the visage of a hostile foe nor of any danger. Before him stood, clutching onto his brittle, ancient cane, the fragile form of Thalerno.
When the Union had first arrived, the man had already been an elder, but now it looked rather like a fall or push could endanger his very life. His skin was deadly pale and looked like it was closer to consuming warmth than radiating it. Evidently not even the cell regenerations and therapies of a modern world were enough to outpace the age of a man who had predated colour television on his world. A small tube fed from one of his pockets to his arm and the glasses upon his face indicated that the man was well past medicine or healthcares ability to keep up. His clothes were not of the aristocratic elegance he had formerly been known for, and instead he was garbed in dirt-caked overalls that revealed he had been the gardener tending among the flowers outside.
The old Lord gave a quiet smile and stayed silent for a moment before joking.
“The last time we met, Ambassador… I suspect I was the louder, and more energetic of the two of us…” The frail old Teliran chuckled.
Khamir could not help but study the story in detail, his hand almost going to touch the photos. He smiled, staring at one in particular.
The Polaroid, of Volkus and Thalerno, such a simple picture. The Union had entire archives of full HD footage from that event but this, this photo spoke far more to Khamir. This moment was likely the most important moment in Natars history, it was just one side motion for the Unions. But he remembered it clearly, the blistering snow and ice and the tense nature of the first contact. They had almost come to blows! But a friendship had been forged there, something unexpected.
His face soured at the sights of the end. Khamir had been an instrument for removing the man, he deeply respected Thalerno, much, much more than the bastard Mose Tetlisun who had followed. But he could never have allowed Natar to destroy its own future to such a lowly band of corporate pirates for lack of a better word. Natar was now a beacon in this galaxy, he just wished he had never had to sacrifice this mans career to help it achieve such.
Khamir, despite being a diplomat, hated politics.
The cough caused him to break from his thinking and turn. He had expected the man to show his age, but this almost knocked the wind out of Khamir, to see such an individual he had enjoyed working with reduced to this, it saddened him.
"I do believe that to very much be the case" Khamir smiled fulling turning to face the old man "It has been a long time, I am sorry I never came sooner, the events in Kaban... I had to go away for a while"
Thalerno frowned, giving a solemn nod to the former ambassador.
“I had heard you were involved in that sordid affair… I wish you had been spared such danger… No one ought to suffer such suffering.”
He could’ve used the circumstance as an opportunity to hurl an ‘I told you so’ at Khamir. Thalerno had always championed the position of social stability over progress, after all, and the Tesfeld troubles that had struck Khamir were a direct result of such social upheaval. Yet Thalerno had long since moved on from what he once was.
“Humanity favours a quiet, bright morning over the darkness of the night… There’s no reason for me to keep you in the darkness of this manor. Come, come…” He waved before he began to hobble back out of the mansion; grabbing his shears on his way out.
Despite his apparent senility and fragility, the Stadtholder made quick speed to attend once more to his flower beds. It was clear that, in the isolation of his estate, the former Administrator had long found peace with the world in tending to his bubble of tranquility.
“So… Ambassador…” He huffed as he cut away at stems and put the detritus to a pile at his side, “...I presume you have come to visit me for a reason…?”
"It was of my own choice and doing, I just wish so many had not perished. I was the lucky one, but I still see it all in my dreams" He sighed. But he was thankful that the old man had not used it as a chance to bite him. It made Khamir relax, it meant this entire ordeal was not going to be snarky side steps and repressed disagreement.
At his comment the ambassador nodded, following the old fellow out into the dawn. He respected Thalerno for his tending to the flower beds, it made Khamir wish he had taken up such a hobby to staunchly stick to. He was going to inquire about the flowers before the ex stadtholders comment caused him to realign.
"I have. It is no secret what happened between us. All I can say is, I am sorry. But I do not fully regret my actions, I hope you can understand that." He let the hard part out first.
"But I also know you are far from blind, the political situation of this planet is on a knife edge. I wish I could say it wasn't my peoples fault but it is, Natar needs stability. But you already know that, the issue that you likely do not know, is that my home is also on a knife edge. There is concerns of a behind the scenes agency acting in the Union, I believe they already are acting in Natar to push certain directions. If current knowledge is to be believed likely to bring them into the war as an ally. I cant do anything back home, but perhaps I can try help here, to ensure the chaos that I helped create comes to an end. To do that though I need help"
"I know how absolutely ludicrous this sounds given everything, but I know if anyone can understand political gravity it is you"
A sigh was let out by the old man amongst the shrubs at the mention and apologetics for the ambassador’s past debacles with Thalerno. Still working away at the flora, pulling away at the weeds, he commented back,
“We all make our decisions for good reasons, Ambassador. Every person in history, from best to worst, made their calls believing they’re doing more good than harm. In the short or long term. If you do not regret your calls, then that is for you to stay.” He gave a smile back before huffing along with his work.
While Khamir couldn’t see the old administrator’s face, and while he continued working as before, the ambassador’s explanation was matched by an attentive silence. He didn’t say a word or noise throughout. By the end, the lack of any change to the man’s disposition could’ve made one suspect he hadn’t even heard any of it. After a few moments, however, Lord Thalerno with an unsteady balance, and several frustrated grunts at his aching limbs, rose up to his feet once more and looked the diplomat in the eyes.
‘Maybe one day your peoples will face the same potential for our history to be extinguished as we faced today. Should that day come, you may trust that we will not forget the fateful choice you made for us this day.’ He recited like it had been etched in stone.
“I made that guarantee to Captain Volkus upon the first meeting of our peoples. We have not forgotten your aid, mercy and charity, and the favour that is owed with it.” He nodded.
“I shall aid you however I can…” He fraily smiled before adding a simple: “However…”
“...My help isn’t of much value anymore I'm afraid.” He went on, “I might know people and connections, but most of those have either moved on or don’t care much for an retired politician with little more to give in politics.” He shook his head.
“It’s my granddaughter you’ll want. Maisinara. If anyone, besides him, can help you, it’ll be her.” His voice was both affirmative and authoritative, there wasn’t a shed of doubt in his mind about this determination,
“She’s already inherited the political roles I once harnessed… The networks I managed. She leads and organizes the old camp in the assembly, and was the only real challenge to Mose in his heyday. Fortunately, she’s not far today.” The senile noble gestured with a twitching finger off down a rolling hill away from the manor. At the edge of meandering riverbank was the distant figure of two figures, one being a woman.
“I don’t think she trusts a Union official dealing with me.” A dry laugh followed.
“I must warn you though… I might of made my peace with the past… But Mai is much younger than I… And she isn’t quite so reconciliatory as I have grown. Tread lightly, I beg.” With that, the Administrator gave a silent smile and nod,
“I’ll leave you to it… Now, I must go. I have some Turkey Oak plants that need inspecting a few fields over… It has been nice to see you again, Ambassador.”
"I understand" Khamir stated simply with the old mans reply about the Unions own fate.
As he explained that it was his daughter who was to be Khamirs best hope he couldn't help but feel a pit in his stomach of anxiety. He knew very much how Mai both distrusted and disliked the Union. And he could perfectly realise why, she had even campaigned during the election to curb Union influence and ties stating that they had undermined Natar, in that regard she would likely be quite personal given how Khamir was the literal threshold through how that event played out. He had to try though, this wasn't just for the Unions benefit but the ASNs as well.
"Thank you old friend, I cant help but think I would feel the same way about another Union official at the moment" He gave a sly joking smile.
"I will try not to cause any issues, at least I'm not wearing the uniform. It was good to see you again as well, maybe next time you can teach me a bit of gardening?" Khamir bowed before turning to stare at the figures in the distance.
He took a deep drawn out breath before beginning to walk his way over to them. His mind racing over the prospect of getting shot or not, at least it would be a nice place to go out.
“I hope there will be a next time. But everyone’s time runs out eventually, and I suspect I'm running a bit short” Massiney quipped with a carefree tone.
With one last, rather weak bow the aristocrat took his leave and hobbled in the opposite direction to that of Khamir. The unionist’s descent down the hill led him to a path that snaked through the long grass and unkept reeds that guarded the riversides. It took him to a simple, old bridge made of brick. Standing atop it was Maisinara Thalerno, who was hunched over the bridge’s side and watching as the water flowed below. She was clad in finery fitting of her a woman of her station. Ceremonial cloaking, refined metallic bracelets and finely tailored garments. None of it was too significant to encumber or break her figure.
Beside the noblewoman flanked a suited man. He was a humanwearing a pair of unstylish spectacles and an unseasonably dark, urban business suit. Maisinara was saying something to him, but they were too far to distinguish any of the words as her eyes turned to watch the ambassador advance. With nought more than a respectful kowtow, the man descended from the bridge; giving a polite nod and ‘Good morning’ to the ambassador as he passed and left Maisinara to deal with the diplomat.
The lady did not appear to change her demeanor as Khamir joined her upon the bridge. She instead returned her gaze to the riverbank with an unamused look upon her face. Things turned greyer as clouds drew overhead and broke the shine of the rising sun into shards that fed onto the distant rolling fields. The two were left in the bleak, cold lights of an overcast which quietened the boisterous morningsong and left the rumbling of the water flowing beneath to dominate the soundscape.
“What do you need from me, Ambassador? There can be no other reason for your wish to come here.” She frankly inquired; her posture unchanging.
The final comment by Thalerno made Khamir saddened, he knew that in all likelihood this was the last time he would ever see the man. He was very old and had been when Khamir had made first contact, he gave a friendly salute as he walked away. He still respected the man greatly.
But as he was already questioning the second individual alongside Lady Mai Khamir felt the sun hide behind the clouds and a cold breeze blow over him. He nodded in respect to the unknown man as he walked off before the flat statement brought Khamir back in from his surroundings.
He placed a hand ln the side of the bridge, looking into the water for a moment.
"I need an ally, and I need help." His tone was matter of fact but he turned to look at her and smiled "I know very well your thoughts and reaction to that statement and I entirely understand why. There is a sickness on Natar, and in the Union of Worlds, something behind the scenes which I had a hand in helping without knowledge of. I fear that I have no power at home, I cannot fight it there, but here with the right help I believe I can help Natar break free of its clutches. I know your well aware of the current political climate, what you likely don't know is that the Union is experiencing similar. Karma I know, but I need someone who has very defined goals and ideologies, someone who believes in what their fighting for" He kept his palms open and his body language relaxed, Khamir also never raised his voice like he was trying to blend with the water.
He knew he would receive a barrage in return or be asked to leave in all likelyhood.
“I have lived here all my life, Mr. Khamir. I don’t need you to inform me of the sickness that has taken root in my homeworld. I have seen it first hand. I have been trying to fight the corruption and degeneracy that has been rotting the principles that once defined my peoples ever since your actions decades ago. You say you need my help to fight the influence of the Union on my world… Why? This weakness and lack of integrity is the doing of your empire. Unless you plan on a coup against your empire, why are you so concerned for the power of your people here?”
She turned with a both distant and skeptical look. The noblewoman could barely hide her disdain for Khamir.
“I do not offer my support and help according to the highest bidder like the kind of politicians you once put in power, Mr. Khamir. I support people on the basis of whether they are my friend, or my foe… And as far as I can see you have been nothing but an enemy to me and my family. You destroyed my father. He was a proud man, and with pride to his name, and he achieved great things. You squandered that with your little playtime as Kingmaker the moment Tetlisun offered to prostitute himself out to your empire for power. So why don’t you run off to the Arcamavir and promise him a milicent in exchange for the keys to Natar to fix things yourself? He is a great asset to the Union, after all.”
"Because the power of my people here could spell the doom for a lot more than just those at home. If this issue was confined to the Union I could walk away without worrying about coming to you, I could try fight at home and undo the damage that is even now being caused. But you and I both know that the Unions power does not end with just its own territory." Khamir fully expected her reply.
"Arcamavir is no friend to the Unions ideals, neither was Tetlisun. I respect your father, he still is a great man. But your nation would have fallen had he capitulated to that company. I believed at the time I was doing the right thing, and I am sorry but I do not regret that. Although I do regret what happened after. I understand you believe I am your foe, and that the Union is your enemy. Ironically, that is the very drive I need. There are forces at work within the Union that intend to go further than ever to achieve their goals. If you think that me playing kingmaker in order to try save your people brought down Natar I get it, I do, but the Union that is now will go far, far further to ensure that they get what they want. And not just on Natar. The sickness will spread, you do not want Union hegemony or power on Natar, and given what my government is turning into and the information I have been told, I do not want that either."
He sighed.
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend. I am sure you have heard the term. I am not asking for us to be friends, or even cordial. I am asking for help in undermining and destroying the connections and influence here of my own government, something I am sure you wish to see done"
“Thank goodness Natar was protected from corporate exploitation by putting Mose in power.” Maisinara shot back with sharp sarcasm to Khamir, “How can you so stoically defend your notions of principles and ideals when you contributed to the precedent of intervening and meddling in other society’s affairs?” Her stare was a skeptical one.
“How do I know that your alternative would be any better. Why would a strong Union of any kind be better for the world? Why should a slave have to choose between a kind master or a worse one when both should be fundamentally opposed?”
Giving a moment to let the tranquility of their setting return her to bubbling mood back down to a simmer, she sighed.
“Supposing I did agree to aid you. What would you have me do? I don’t lead gangs of thugs or criminals; nor will I condone a campaign of political murders against unarmed men and women. Did you have something in mind for me to put my people and their effort towards?”
Khamir did not choose to rise to her baiting for deeper and further conversation on the topic of rights, wrongs and what ifs regarding the past. Her father had told him to be careful, and that was a rabbit hole that they would endlessly fall into over never seeing eye to eye. What was done was done.
"I would not ask you to commit any acts of violence madam." Khamir plainly stated. He had quite the fill of his violence anyway.
"I would ask you keep your direction, keep picking at the Unions influence here publicly. If you and your people can, eat away at it behind the scenes too. Out those who openly or secretively deal with my nation, denounce them and make their allegiance known. Any means by which my nations influence and avenues of power can be curtailed I believe will firmly help. Public opinion is against my people, that in itself can be a potent weapon when that pressure is applied to specific individuals and corporations"
Khamir’s counterpart remained quiet for a moment.
“I presume you have some kind of dossier of people to look out for? The types working for your empire from among our ranks?” Her voice called out before adding shortly after:
“I hope you realize that any kind of scandal of this nature will surely promote nativism across this planet, and stand to the detriment of your cause - Regardless of what side you are on.”
"I do"
His reply was to the point. And he held out a small data card for her to take.
"These are the individuals I am aware of. I am know what this will do, believe me I am fully in understanding of the ideological shift this will incite. But what my government is becoming, what it is doing behind the scenes goes against everything the Union stands for. I do not wish to see anyone else dragged down by it anymore."
He stared down into the water below.
"I hope this is enough"
Maisinara seized the card and gave it one, distant look over it before putting it away. She was unemotive; unresponsive, for several moments. When she did finally honour his action with a response, it was to give a mild, curt nod and polite appreciation.
“Thank you. Former Ambassador. I will use this to the best of my ability… But many of these types are still in active government: roles of potency and protection. There is only one man with the ruthless, murderous political experience and bloody contacts to deal with those who are secure from persuasion or scandal.”
She grimaced.
“Mose... But I presume you already have plans to get him back into the fold?”
Khamir was thankful that she had taken the list and was willing to undertake this. It was like a huge weight lifted from his shoulders.
However his tension did not ease, especially when she mentioned the previous Stadtholder.
"Yes, such plans are already underway by someone I trust very closely. He has retired from the political life, but his assets are sadly needed to avert further disaster. Worry not, I would not ask you to associate nor work with him even with this endeavour" Khamir understood that would simply be a step into the realm impossibility. It would not be fair to ask that of her anyway.
“Then I believe we have little else to discuss, Former Ambassador.” She emphasised the latter words to almost denote the fact that Khamir, on paper, should have no influence or role on Natar. Gripping to the information with both hands, she kept her eyes on Khamir before gesturing for him to leave.
Turning back to the waterway below, Maisinara withdrew once more to the steady flow and soothing babble of the brook.
“Safe travels.” Were her last, parting words as their meeting concluded.
__
Elsewhere, a different Unionist was meeting a different statesman of Natar. Mose Tetlisun, the Peasant-Stadtholder, had undisputably been a man for which the world shook. Fate did not make him; for he made fate - At least, that had been what people said of him until his eventual downfall. Not even the machiavellian cunning and machinations of a political workhorse like Tetlisun was enough to abate to social tidal waves that had come with the crash of the galactic markets. The galactic depression had hit few places harder than Natar, and now the name ‘Tetlisun’ was synonymous with inequality, corruption, and quiet autocracy.
Amplast Manor was the home of the reclusive puppetmaster of Natar. Amplast Manor was the former home of the lord that had sponsored Tetlisun as a child into finer education. Tetlisun had long since replaced his old ruler as owner of the estate and brushed the old nobility of the region aside in favour of creating his own self-styled petty fiefdom from where he could dwell.
An old, relatively modest stately home comprised of gnarled wood and melting glass, Amplast had once sat surrounded by verdant farmlands and even a village. Since Tetlisun’s rule, it had been replaced by nothing but forest and wilderness that made the house an enclave; isolated from the outside word by a sentry guard of tall, overgrown forestry that nearly reached the horizon. Had it not been for a single, unlit road, the place would’ve been entirely unreachable.
Saffire reached the premises at the turn of midnight. The exterior was bathed into the pale, slightly green, glow of Natar’s moonlight. There was no light from the inside, nor from without, not even the wilderness showed any sign of life or activity, and the only sound was the hush of the wind through the trees. Moving towards the entrance, Saffire was flanked by what had once, presumably, been flowers beds. Now they were overgrown plumes of gnarled thorns and wilting weeds.
From her approach, though, Saffire might’ve sworn to the sight of a shadow peering quietly from a second-story window down upon their angelic guest. It disappeared the moment Saffire got a slight indication of its presence; leaving the Unionist with only the faintest inkling that she had been watched.
Entry to the place was permitted by the visage of an old, bumbling butler, after an ominously long knock on the door. The aged staff-man preferred to use as few words as possible with the house’s visitor. Besides offering to take any kind of belongings, and an offer of a drink, he said little before departing to find his master.
“Follow the music.” Was his only advice.
The lobby that Saffire was left in was a completely different climate to the one Khamir had experienced at Thalerno’s residence. When the last Union visit to this place had occurred years ago, the entire building was illuminated for guests. It had been ablaze with life as the de-facto Capitol of the ASN during that time, with toadies and bureaucrats occupying every room with the activities of ceaseless work. No place in the house felt abandoned.
Now the entire place was dead; lit only by the slight light that fed through the windows and Saffire’s own unnatural glow like a torch in a haunted house.
Its beams creaked with each gust of wind that whistled through the house’s unheated rooms. Where once there was art on walls and furniture abound, there was nothing but the silhouettes on the dust-ridden wallpapers and floorboards where things had once been. Where once the sounds of dozens of staff reverberated the place, now there was the hollow tick of a clock unseen. It felt like the whole place was utterly unoccupied.
What had once been a proud, beating heart of the whole planet’s power and pride, had been gutted into nothing more than a weak facade of what had once been.
There was one sound, however, that did loom above all others: Music. An echoing, reverberated melody that called from down the endlessly system of black halls and unkept hallways.
It crept through the corridors like a sorrowful lure: A violin and piano humming in a painful symphony.
Sadness was all that Sapphire experienced as she had entered the house.
She had known about the various conditions in which Telirans lived, their races preferred affinity to darkness and low light conditions and the usual architecture and furnishings. And yet, everything here screamed to her of a deep, deep melancholy. It had seen better days, and had now fallen out of the light just like the person who lived here.
In a strange way she could very much relate, even as her own glow helped guide her through the dreary mansion.
The music was her second guide, its tones drifting through the manse to bring her to her charge.
She kept moving, slowly and respectfully to the old place but she said nothing aloud and kept as little noise from herself as possible as if to respect the tune. She wore a traditional orange and red dress, modelled after some of her mothers. It contrasted massively with her surroundings, as did her wings and glow. Everything told her she should not be in this place.
Still she approached close to where the music was coming from, hoping to find a man who might be able to help her cause.
Each step Saffire took was met by the creaking and groaning of the aching floorboards below; each step brought her closer to the depressed ode emanating from down the hallways. Steadily, she approached her destination: A crack of light piercing through a doorway slightly ajar. As she got closer, the violin forming the duet of the song faded and left just the piano to provide its empty serenade.
Saffire opened the door to meet a room that, unlike the rest of the mansion, was filled with the orange glow of lit candles that hung from a simple, iron chandelier and from alcoves in the rooms of this humble study chamber.
To one corner sat a work table lingering beside a few untouched bookcases and a grand clock that had stopped ticking long ago. Upon the surface of the study desk were dozens upon dozens of documents. Paper, PDA, books, that formed a mountain of correspondences, inquiries, and whatever else. It seemed like the one place in the facility that had been kept somewhat alive, albeit any hint of organization had gone to the wind.
The other side of the room was occupied by the musical instruments that perched beside metal filing cabinets, a safe, an archaic gun closet with a rifle. Only two bullets kept with it behind the glass of the cabinet. Mounted over the fireplace nearby was the skull of some grand animal from the planet. Sat behind a grand piano positioned in the corner was the fallen Stadtholder. Beside him was an unoccupied violin, its user was gone.
Mose Tetlisun was continuing to calmly play as Saffire made her entry. The look on his face as he played showed just as much of a lack of emotion as he had been known for over his years of premiership. He looked like a perfect, unmoved automaton, even despite all the delapidation of his greatness that surrounded him. Tetlisun had been the perfect machine, but the emotion and desires of those who did not share his heartlessness had rejected him from the very system he made. Now, like a machine, he seemingly continued to operate and behave just as normal, despite the fact he had been thrown aside.
Finally, with his performance ended, he quietly put down the key cover of the piano and turned his gentle attention over to Princess. Wordlessly, the former statesman rose from his stool, strolled around the table to the middle of the room and silently took a deep bow of regal respect to the Union royal.
“Madam Princess… Thank you for coming.” His voice was hushed, like years inside this dead and isolated mansion had brought his speaking volume to that of a moth, “...How may I be of assistance…?”
Saffire studied the room even as she politely stood by the door, waiting for Mose to finish his song and acknowledge her. It was simply rude to interfere, and she listened to the melancholic music while studying the remains, and the fallout of such a once powerful man. He was still powerful of course but it very much seemed like the fight had left him.
"It is good to see you again Mr. Tetlisun, its been a long time since our rather... eventful last meeting" She smiled, stepping into the room further.
"I am here for a bit of a dual errand, one as you can very well expect is politically motivated based off numerous occurrences in the last few years, the other" She grinned "Is to continue our chance without a psychotic individual ruining it unannounced" the last part was uttered in jest. Her presence seemed to help illuminate the room that little bit more.
“Likewise, your majesty.” The Teliran nodded politely. He didn’t seem to move or react by the presence of Saffire’s size as she loomed overhead. He was far more attentive to her statements.
“...I will be happy to see what I can do for you, whatever the request may be. As I recall our last conversation ended as I warned you that the relationship between the interdimensional states and the natives of this galaxy were heading towards catastrophe.” He cocked a brow,
“If I didn’t know myself better I would call myself a holy prophet.”
"Indeed, your prediction was on point."
She walked around the room slowly, admiring various objects and details.
"Before we were interrupted, I also tried to warn about threats which could become a danger to the entire galaxy, I believe we both were prophets" She stared at a particular object, not looking to Tetlisun as she talked.
"Tell me, I have an odd question and I think only you can answer. What is it like... To be free? Of the politics? Of the burden?"
Mose took a glance to scan for whatever Saffire was transfixed on as he paced the room. The inquiry by the Princess made the Stadtholder stop. He looked like he had been insulted.
“Free…? Miss Saffire, I believe you are mistaken. I am not free; I never was. This…?”
He waved his arm about the office,
“...This is not freedom. This is pointlessness and abandonment. The moment you lose your position, and your importance is spent, you become a useful insight, then a curious relic, then finally a nuisance. Freedom is to be free of obligation, and to be free of being depended on is to be alone.”
He stood upright; straightening his back and adjusting his suit.
“But I am not alone, though close to it I may be, and I am not useless… I am merely in dormancy. I will fix this little derailment in due time, just you wait.”
"I see." Her response sounded sad, Tetlisuns situation sounded much like hers had once. Or perhaps still was...
"I am glad to hear that you are still hard at work pursuing your own plans. You asked how you may be of assistance. I will spare you the details of what you already know, Saljir Arcamavir is going to fall, and fall hard after possibly some of the greatest national self sabotage ever seen. The issue is once the power vacuum starts it will be a free for all. What you may not know is, my nation is not entirely playing its cards face up"
She sighed, looking to sit down but realising her size made it awkward to use regular chairs. Instead she carefully sat down in front of the fire on the floor.
"The Union that you dealt with does not exist anymore"
Just saying those words hurt her.
"There are factions at work within that seek to cement the Unions power in the galaxy and bring it back to where it once was during the 2nd Ancerious war. Only this time, without any of the civilian interference or accountability. They seem to believe that what must be done must be done, by any means. The ends justify such. They have been working for a long time, I believe Eiastens death was directly related to this. He was ever at odds with the old guard of the military and they removed him as an obstacle. Esme is now in power and I firmly believe she is their puppet although I doubt she realises that. Already this faction has been attempting to subvert allies and enemies a like and right now Natar is likely one of their main focuses. They want the ASN to militarise, and fight on their side against whatever threats present themselves. If they cant have it, they will try ensure no one can"
She held her hands up to the warm flames. Dark memories danced in those fires.
"I do not want to see my nation cause political devastation on another out of controlling need. I cannot merely speak out about this, but we are trying to undo this before it becomes a public problem. I need your help to undermine Union influence in Natar, especially when Arcamavir falls"
Tetlisun never waivered in his interest in what the Princess had to say. He stood patiently, and maintained eye contact throughout. He made no effort to display disregard or carelessness throughout the briefing. Yet when Saffire concluded, the former Stadtholder simply gave a shake of the head and refused,
“No.” He politely refrained, “If a shadowy cabal seeks control over Natar’s government, then they may have it - They’ll find it of little use, just as the past cabals and conclaves and camarillas have. I have learnt with time that taking leadership of Natar is a fool’s errand; one that attracts people to it like a wasp trap and ensnares them in a cycle they cannot escape until they are chewed back out depleted. I spent a decade attempting to bring control and order to Natar; to fate. But I discovered that change and control isn’t found even when one control’s an empire.
With a wave of a hand the statesman wildly expressed:
“I have little care now for the politics of nations now. The idea that governments are the means to control and guide the future have been proven an illusion. The likes of the panopticon have proven that much.” His eyes locked onto Saffire, “Why should I care about the fates of nations and governments when they will disappear in the blink of an eye in the grand scheme of the universe? When they mean so little? No, the future- our future, lies in control of something greater…!” His eyes lit up with a spark of passion, or possibly madness. Whatever it was, it made the Stadtholder smile and point to Saffire.
“Once I finally have the control I need- Then I will have the ability to bring order and control to the galaxy in full, then whomever controls Natar or wherever else will be meaningless. At that point, I assure you Princess, you will not need to worry about an extremist Union militarist regime marching around.”
Sapphire was indeed surprised at the statements, her face moving from one of solemn mourning for her own people to one of confusion.
Until he mentioned the Panopticon and a vague statement about control. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly and the feathers on her wings changed momentarily in their angle with a ruffle.
"And what something greater is that? Was is this control you need? You speak of the Panopticon, but they have destroyed the minds of so many for that control"
“The Panopticon have fell short by clasping at some ethereal pocket world to harvest people’s souls into. Their power is admirable but their goals are so bland… They’re too uninspiring.” He responded as he passed over to his desk.
“No. True power lies in something less separate and distant… Something that allows one to control…” Tetlisun knocked his hand on the wooden table surface twice with a grin.
“...The fabric of reality itself. To be reality, to be fate. At that point you wouldn’t be A God, you be Be God. Nothing bound to the threads of the universe could surmount a being, an all-seeing force of that kind.”
She raised an eyebrow.
"And how do you intend to accomplish that Mose?" She was wary now, Tetlisun had always been calm and rational, a political legend. But this was talk from someone who sounded utterly unhinged.
Had she come to him in vain?
The aging Teliran gave little more than a tap to his nose in reply,
“If I hadn’t learnt the importance of discretion and secrecy, Princess, I would not have gotten far in politics.”
Just then Tetlisun’s attention was diverted by the sound of a creak. It came from behind a door close to the piano. It was slightly ajar. The former Stadtholder let out a tired sigh before turning back to his guest.
“Come out, Carilei.” He demanded, pinching at the bridge of his nose with annoyance, “Now.”
Out from behind the door emerged a small girl. She was Teliran, and yet certain characteristics like her skin tone and forehead weren’t quite aligned with the biology of the planet’s native sapient species. Tetlisun looked down upon her as she approached, she did not reciprocate the eye-contact, instead preferring to keep her face to the floor like a dog caught misbehaving.
“Princess Saffire, this is my daughter and political project: Carilei Tetlisun.” He placed a hand upon her shoulder.
“She was a High Imperial genetic project. I did not want her, but the situation commanded that I consent to her creation. Now, one day, she will take over from me.”
Carilei remained silent.
Sapphire initially looked at the child and smiled, happy to see her. But that happiness very rapidly flitted to despair as Tetlisun talked, and she realised that the young girl did not even lift her eyes to look at her. She had the look of a girl already defeated by life, consumed by another's dream.
That hit the Princess harder than she had ever realised, and she failed to conceal the look of horror on her face.
"You are seeing her as a project? Mose, children should not be used as weapons, they are not tools, please do not forget that she is alive, that she can feel" Sapphire seemed to reach out a hand towards the girl in compassion and in some attempt to illicit a positive response.
She remembered her time as a weapon, little more than a puppet for another cause. One that brought endless death and destruction to the people she was meant to protect. The thought of that being done to another, it boiled inside her. Igniting an anger that she had not felt in a very, very long time...
"Dont do to her what was done to me"
“On the contrary, Princess Saffire.” The former Stadtholder of Natar contended, “I am ensuring she will be spared what you were not.”
He lifted a finger, almost accusingly,
“You had great potential, yet you were not prepared with the fortitude to defend that power from the world. The world is a scheming, conniving, anarchic place, Princess Saffire, and you were too naive to see that before you were exploited by it. It was precisely your lack of preparation that left you exposed to the manipulation of another.”
Tetlisun patted his daughter’s head.
“I will not allow Carilei to be susceptible to such weakness. She is my project because she is worth my time; because she has the promise to achieve what I could not, with less than what I had.”
“Two kinds of people exist in this life: Those who are born to rule, and those who are born to be ruled. Fools have thought this to be a hereditary nature, but the reality is that it is a state of mindset.”
Carilei atleast raised her head. The face of a young child was countermanded by the expression of a child who had had their creativity diminished.
“I am not a tool to others. Others are a tool to me.” She politely refrained in eloquent Galactic Common.
"I misjudged you mose" She retracted her hand from the child as she realised the hooks were already in too deep.
"No living thing is a tool to use young one, I just hope some day you come to learn that" She spoke to Carilei.
"I was taken, tortured and turned into a monster. That is not lack of preparation, it was strength of realisation that I broke free. People are not tools, nor do they exist to rule or be ruled. I see that our paths have long diverged Tetlisun, I am sorry for taking up your valuable time"
Her face was one of contained rage, the glow of her aura brightening the room more as her wings went stiff.
"I just hope one day you break free"
One might expect Tetlisun to have responded defensively or with similar liveliness to the criticism of the Princess. Maybe it would’ve even been better, more reassuring, than what Saffire got. Instead, she received nothing. Like a blank automaton, Mose Tetlisun disposition remained unchanged. He stared at her with unemotive eyes and replied:
“My outlook has not changed. My views are as they have always been. The Union will have what help I can muster, you may trust me on that. But I must warn you, there is a storm brewing on Natar, and not even Arcamavir’s departure will dissipate the clouds, the military already have their talons over our civilian government - All they require now is a better statesman; preferably a Pro-Union one, and the Reservists will have Natar’s alignment.”
"There is a storm coming for this galaxy Mose, I fear Natar, the Union and countless others are just small parts of it. I..." She visibly shuddered as in calming an inner rage.
"...Thank you for your support. But I am afraid I must take my leave" Her face moved to that of an impassive observer, emotionless and cold. It was one of her greatest testaments to mental fortitude to internalise her emotions. At a greater cost down the line of course.
"I am... Glad to have caught up with you again. The Union will do what it can to aid Natar but as stated I cannot guarantee that will be in your nations best interests. Perhaps in time we may both be able to overcome our demons, our nations as well"
She gave a cold bow, taking one glance at the young girl.
Genuine sadness crossed her eyes for a fleeting moment as the Princess saw in those child's eyes her own at her weakest ebb.
Walking from that room was the hardest thing Saffire had ever done since coming to the Ancerious galaxy, the tears that flowed after ones of guilt and powerlessness.
“To have demons, Princess Saffire. One must have regrets.” The Teliran coldly replied, his face ever devoid of life. The calculating machine of a man paused for a moment to let the Union Royal depart for the door before finishing by concluding, “Learning from mistakes? Useful. But one should never be so weak as to regret.”
The former Stadtholder nodded, raised a hand, and allowed Saffire to leave to the escorting lamplight of his butler. Mose Tetlisun and Carilei remained in the music room to the fading candlelights as the darkness of the Teliran Manor once more resumed.
It was a sunny morning, you couldn’t have asked for a finer start to a day. The air was crisp, chilly even, but not freezing. The sound of wildlife chirping and chattering away was matched by the equally calming rustle of the dew-cooled breeze rushing through the long grass that flanked the lazy, cobbled road winding through the meadows. Beside the path, trees periodically stood guard like lazy sentries that gave shade and shelter to those pedestrians taking the trip.
Sat overlooking it all, basking in the dawning sun sat the quiet, yet grandiose home that ruled over these lands: Thalerno Hall. The approach to the house was a rudimentary one. Traditional attitudes to Teliran country homes was to isolate them from the clamour and troubles of the world beyond the pastures of nature. To that end, there were no roads nor landing pads, only a quaint, rolling bridlepath that took strollers up to the compound. The place was a virtual bubble from the chaos of the drama and din of politics beyond.
The family of that same name resided within and were expecting their guests. The Thalerno clan were older than their own country: Kalethia. They had persevered it all and for centuries been a name of respect, prestige, and honour. But they had for decades fallen upon hard times. Ousted from their places in national and international governments alike, humiliated among their peers and coerced by those that coveted their lost power. That decline had been initiated by none other than the Union of Worlds.
Since then the Thalerno’s had been awfully quiet. The family’s patriarch, the elder Massiney Thalerno, had been ousted by the Union of Worlds as the Administrator of Natar’s space operations and, with it, the house’s fall from grace had been determined. Now the Unionists were back, and this time they wanted to talk to Lord Thalerno, not oust him. He hadn’t replied to their official and unofficial requests for audience; instead his staff had confirmed their invitation to the manor on his behalf.
There was no sign of a welcome party, or anyone for that matter beside an old gardener in green overalls messing with the flowers some distance from the door, waiting outside for the Manor’s guests. Instead, the entrance to the place was firmly shut with only a large brass knocker, shining in the morning light, to greet a guest.
Khamir was a changed man.
He cycled up the path towards the mansion, no ornate top of the line antigrav bike for him, a traditional peddle bike had been his choice. Sweat covered his brow, he had been cycling up hill a while back but he enjoyed the physical nature of it. The Siege of the Embassies incident in Tesfeld had deeply affected Khamir, with him needing to have therapy back in Union space for well over several months.
But he had chosen to return to Natar after, he had merely stated he didn't want the rebels to win. He didn't want them to keep him from his job.
He had kept his had down though after coming back. He wasn't the official Union ambassador anymore, that title had fallen to someone else, another poor soul. No, Khamir had come back as a diplomatic liaison, working with various ASN governments on advisory roles or communication between the official ambassador and said governments. He wasn't sure if it suited him yet, in all honesty he would very much like to retire to somewhere like this.
The peddling helped keep the anxiety at bay. After all Khamir had a hand in Thalerno's ousting. He didn't want the man to be ousted, he only believed he was doing the right thing for Natar. Now that Arcamavir was in power...
He sighed to himself as he finally approached the manor. Pulling up and placing his bike by the side of the property. He wasn't dressed in official uniform, instead wearing some of the local casual garb which he found comfortable. He straightened himself and tidied himself from the ride before finally knocking on the great door with the brass knocker.
Each bang on the large wooden doorway emanated a thunderous boom that resonated from the other side. Even so, with a place as large as this, there was no certainty anyone could’ve heard it. Nearly a minute went by before the firm, metallic clunking from the entry indicated the deactivation of several locks from within. With a groaning creak the door pulled ajar, only a little, for the head of an old, Teliran woman to emerge from the other side. It was clear by how little she opened the door that she was neither certain of her visitor nor trusting of his intent.
“Yes, can I help you, young man?” She called out from the gap, in spite of Khamir’s own age.
"Yes, I am here to see the master of the house. I am expected"
He had puffed himself up to look important and play the part.
"Ambassador Khamir, or rather ex-ambassador"
He was still not used to the fact he did not hold his old station even after all this time. Khamirs entire life had been changed at that First contact event, he had seen these people grow into something truly unique, he could not help but feel almost like a proud parent, or even one of them entirely.
Still it had come with its pitfalls, Khamir just hoped that Thalerno had not invited him here to kill him or something outrageous.
Giving a somewhat steely look, the old lady nodded. Soon enough the door creeped open to give access to Khamir. Before him waited an entrance hall, grandiose in size and lined with antiques. Nothing here seemed news, it was like the place had been a time capsule preserved from centuries past in perfect stasis. Oil paintings lined the walls, telling stories of great lords and ladies in their prime. The only thing that lit up their faces was the mild flickering of chandelier candles from high above.
“I’ll be a moment… I will go and find him…” Khamir’s escort explained before the elderly woman went hobbling off, up some stairs, and disappearing through a side door.
Khamir was left with the echoing ticking of some distant clock from a place unseen. Every door was shut to him, bar one: A small passage door leading to what looked like a cupboard room to the side. Its door was ajar and, from within, a warm glow of a light left on emitted. The room inside was small, little bigger than a boiler room, but its walls were cased with photos, pictures and cut-out column articles.
The storyboard told a story hitherto unseen. It started with photos so old that they lacked colour, first presenting the fuzzy representation of what was clearly a young Teliran boy with his mother and father. In the next photos were a young man, clad in military garb from a different time, one of bolt-action rifles and propeller planes. A later photo presented a proudly suited middle-aged figure, surrounded by similarly pleased peers, all in arms and smiling for their camera shot, the first representatives of the ASN.
The same Teliran man reached his zenith under the glow of the room’s lightbulb as a painted portrait proudly mantled an older Thalerno, his portrait after election to Administrator of the Space Authority; followed by a grainy, colour-drenched polaroid of him and Captain Volkus in the snows of Aphanesia as he handed his Talisman over to the Union.
The last wall showed the end to this story.
Over a dozen different photos were pinned, now clear in resolution. Stood at the podium of the ASN was Thalerno; his head cowed in shame as a newspaper clipping, cut out below, declared:
“Thalerno ousted over peace proposal, Union Intervention empowers coup!”
A light cough from behind indicated that the old Administrator himself had arrived. Turning around, Khamir would be met with neither the visage of a hostile foe nor of any danger. Before him stood, clutching onto his brittle, ancient cane, the fragile form of Thalerno.
When the Union had first arrived, the man had already been an elder, but now it looked rather like a fall or push could endanger his very life. His skin was deadly pale and looked like it was closer to consuming warmth than radiating it. Evidently not even the cell regenerations and therapies of a modern world were enough to outpace the age of a man who had predated colour television on his world. A small tube fed from one of his pockets to his arm and the glasses upon his face indicated that the man was well past medicine or healthcares ability to keep up. His clothes were not of the aristocratic elegance he had formerly been known for, and instead he was garbed in dirt-caked overalls that revealed he had been the gardener tending among the flowers outside.
The old Lord gave a quiet smile and stayed silent for a moment before joking.
“The last time we met, Ambassador… I suspect I was the louder, and more energetic of the two of us…” The frail old Teliran chuckled.
Khamir could not help but study the story in detail, his hand almost going to touch the photos. He smiled, staring at one in particular.
The Polaroid, of Volkus and Thalerno, such a simple picture. The Union had entire archives of full HD footage from that event but this, this photo spoke far more to Khamir. This moment was likely the most important moment in Natars history, it was just one side motion for the Unions. But he remembered it clearly, the blistering snow and ice and the tense nature of the first contact. They had almost come to blows! But a friendship had been forged there, something unexpected.
His face soured at the sights of the end. Khamir had been an instrument for removing the man, he deeply respected Thalerno, much, much more than the bastard Mose Tetlisun who had followed. But he could never have allowed Natar to destroy its own future to such a lowly band of corporate pirates for lack of a better word. Natar was now a beacon in this galaxy, he just wished he had never had to sacrifice this mans career to help it achieve such.
Khamir, despite being a diplomat, hated politics.
The cough caused him to break from his thinking and turn. He had expected the man to show his age, but this almost knocked the wind out of Khamir, to see such an individual he had enjoyed working with reduced to this, it saddened him.
"I do believe that to very much be the case" Khamir smiled fulling turning to face the old man "It has been a long time, I am sorry I never came sooner, the events in Kaban... I had to go away for a while"
Thalerno frowned, giving a solemn nod to the former ambassador.
“I had heard you were involved in that sordid affair… I wish you had been spared such danger… No one ought to suffer such suffering.”
He could’ve used the circumstance as an opportunity to hurl an ‘I told you so’ at Khamir. Thalerno had always championed the position of social stability over progress, after all, and the Tesfeld troubles that had struck Khamir were a direct result of such social upheaval. Yet Thalerno had long since moved on from what he once was.
“Humanity favours a quiet, bright morning over the darkness of the night… There’s no reason for me to keep you in the darkness of this manor. Come, come…” He waved before he began to hobble back out of the mansion; grabbing his shears on his way out.
Despite his apparent senility and fragility, the Stadtholder made quick speed to attend once more to his flower beds. It was clear that, in the isolation of his estate, the former Administrator had long found peace with the world in tending to his bubble of tranquility.
“So… Ambassador…” He huffed as he cut away at stems and put the detritus to a pile at his side, “...I presume you have come to visit me for a reason…?”
"It was of my own choice and doing, I just wish so many had not perished. I was the lucky one, but I still see it all in my dreams" He sighed. But he was thankful that the old man had not used it as a chance to bite him. It made Khamir relax, it meant this entire ordeal was not going to be snarky side steps and repressed disagreement.
At his comment the ambassador nodded, following the old fellow out into the dawn. He respected Thalerno for his tending to the flower beds, it made Khamir wish he had taken up such a hobby to staunchly stick to. He was going to inquire about the flowers before the ex stadtholders comment caused him to realign.
"I have. It is no secret what happened between us. All I can say is, I am sorry. But I do not fully regret my actions, I hope you can understand that." He let the hard part out first.
"But I also know you are far from blind, the political situation of this planet is on a knife edge. I wish I could say it wasn't my peoples fault but it is, Natar needs stability. But you already know that, the issue that you likely do not know, is that my home is also on a knife edge. There is concerns of a behind the scenes agency acting in the Union, I believe they already are acting in Natar to push certain directions. If current knowledge is to be believed likely to bring them into the war as an ally. I cant do anything back home, but perhaps I can try help here, to ensure the chaos that I helped create comes to an end. To do that though I need help"
"I know how absolutely ludicrous this sounds given everything, but I know if anyone can understand political gravity it is you"
A sigh was let out by the old man amongst the shrubs at the mention and apologetics for the ambassador’s past debacles with Thalerno. Still working away at the flora, pulling away at the weeds, he commented back,
“We all make our decisions for good reasons, Ambassador. Every person in history, from best to worst, made their calls believing they’re doing more good than harm. In the short or long term. If you do not regret your calls, then that is for you to stay.” He gave a smile back before huffing along with his work.
While Khamir couldn’t see the old administrator’s face, and while he continued working as before, the ambassador’s explanation was matched by an attentive silence. He didn’t say a word or noise throughout. By the end, the lack of any change to the man’s disposition could’ve made one suspect he hadn’t even heard any of it. After a few moments, however, Lord Thalerno with an unsteady balance, and several frustrated grunts at his aching limbs, rose up to his feet once more and looked the diplomat in the eyes.
‘Maybe one day your peoples will face the same potential for our history to be extinguished as we faced today. Should that day come, you may trust that we will not forget the fateful choice you made for us this day.’ He recited like it had been etched in stone.
“I made that guarantee to Captain Volkus upon the first meeting of our peoples. We have not forgotten your aid, mercy and charity, and the favour that is owed with it.” He nodded.
“I shall aid you however I can…” He fraily smiled before adding a simple: “However…”
“...My help isn’t of much value anymore I'm afraid.” He went on, “I might know people and connections, but most of those have either moved on or don’t care much for an retired politician with little more to give in politics.” He shook his head.
“It’s my granddaughter you’ll want. Maisinara. If anyone, besides him, can help you, it’ll be her.” His voice was both affirmative and authoritative, there wasn’t a shed of doubt in his mind about this determination,
“She’s already inherited the political roles I once harnessed… The networks I managed. She leads and organizes the old camp in the assembly, and was the only real challenge to Mose in his heyday. Fortunately, she’s not far today.” The senile noble gestured with a twitching finger off down a rolling hill away from the manor. At the edge of meandering riverbank was the distant figure of two figures, one being a woman.
“I don’t think she trusts a Union official dealing with me.” A dry laugh followed.
“I must warn you though… I might of made my peace with the past… But Mai is much younger than I… And she isn’t quite so reconciliatory as I have grown. Tread lightly, I beg.” With that, the Administrator gave a silent smile and nod,
“I’ll leave you to it… Now, I must go. I have some Turkey Oak plants that need inspecting a few fields over… It has been nice to see you again, Ambassador.”
"I understand" Khamir stated simply with the old mans reply about the Unions own fate.
As he explained that it was his daughter who was to be Khamirs best hope he couldn't help but feel a pit in his stomach of anxiety. He knew very much how Mai both distrusted and disliked the Union. And he could perfectly realise why, she had even campaigned during the election to curb Union influence and ties stating that they had undermined Natar, in that regard she would likely be quite personal given how Khamir was the literal threshold through how that event played out. He had to try though, this wasn't just for the Unions benefit but the ASNs as well.
"Thank you old friend, I cant help but think I would feel the same way about another Union official at the moment" He gave a sly joking smile.
"I will try not to cause any issues, at least I'm not wearing the uniform. It was good to see you again as well, maybe next time you can teach me a bit of gardening?" Khamir bowed before turning to stare at the figures in the distance.
He took a deep drawn out breath before beginning to walk his way over to them. His mind racing over the prospect of getting shot or not, at least it would be a nice place to go out.
“I hope there will be a next time. But everyone’s time runs out eventually, and I suspect I'm running a bit short” Massiney quipped with a carefree tone.
With one last, rather weak bow the aristocrat took his leave and hobbled in the opposite direction to that of Khamir. The unionist’s descent down the hill led him to a path that snaked through the long grass and unkept reeds that guarded the riversides. It took him to a simple, old bridge made of brick. Standing atop it was Maisinara Thalerno, who was hunched over the bridge’s side and watching as the water flowed below. She was clad in finery fitting of her a woman of her station. Ceremonial cloaking, refined metallic bracelets and finely tailored garments. None of it was too significant to encumber or break her figure.
Beside the noblewoman flanked a suited man. He was a humanwearing a pair of unstylish spectacles and an unseasonably dark, urban business suit. Maisinara was saying something to him, but they were too far to distinguish any of the words as her eyes turned to watch the ambassador advance. With nought more than a respectful kowtow, the man descended from the bridge; giving a polite nod and ‘Good morning’ to the ambassador as he passed and left Maisinara to deal with the diplomat.
The lady did not appear to change her demeanor as Khamir joined her upon the bridge. She instead returned her gaze to the riverbank with an unamused look upon her face. Things turned greyer as clouds drew overhead and broke the shine of the rising sun into shards that fed onto the distant rolling fields. The two were left in the bleak, cold lights of an overcast which quietened the boisterous morningsong and left the rumbling of the water flowing beneath to dominate the soundscape.
“What do you need from me, Ambassador? There can be no other reason for your wish to come here.” She frankly inquired; her posture unchanging.
The final comment by Thalerno made Khamir saddened, he knew that in all likelihood this was the last time he would ever see the man. He was very old and had been when Khamir had made first contact, he gave a friendly salute as he walked away. He still respected the man greatly.
But as he was already questioning the second individual alongside Lady Mai Khamir felt the sun hide behind the clouds and a cold breeze blow over him. He nodded in respect to the unknown man as he walked off before the flat statement brought Khamir back in from his surroundings.
He placed a hand ln the side of the bridge, looking into the water for a moment.
"I need an ally, and I need help." His tone was matter of fact but he turned to look at her and smiled "I know very well your thoughts and reaction to that statement and I entirely understand why. There is a sickness on Natar, and in the Union of Worlds, something behind the scenes which I had a hand in helping without knowledge of. I fear that I have no power at home, I cannot fight it there, but here with the right help I believe I can help Natar break free of its clutches. I know your well aware of the current political climate, what you likely don't know is that the Union is experiencing similar. Karma I know, but I need someone who has very defined goals and ideologies, someone who believes in what their fighting for" He kept his palms open and his body language relaxed, Khamir also never raised his voice like he was trying to blend with the water.
He knew he would receive a barrage in return or be asked to leave in all likelyhood.
“I have lived here all my life, Mr. Khamir. I don’t need you to inform me of the sickness that has taken root in my homeworld. I have seen it first hand. I have been trying to fight the corruption and degeneracy that has been rotting the principles that once defined my peoples ever since your actions decades ago. You say you need my help to fight the influence of the Union on my world… Why? This weakness and lack of integrity is the doing of your empire. Unless you plan on a coup against your empire, why are you so concerned for the power of your people here?”
She turned with a both distant and skeptical look. The noblewoman could barely hide her disdain for Khamir.
“I do not offer my support and help according to the highest bidder like the kind of politicians you once put in power, Mr. Khamir. I support people on the basis of whether they are my friend, or my foe… And as far as I can see you have been nothing but an enemy to me and my family. You destroyed my father. He was a proud man, and with pride to his name, and he achieved great things. You squandered that with your little playtime as Kingmaker the moment Tetlisun offered to prostitute himself out to your empire for power. So why don’t you run off to the Arcamavir and promise him a milicent in exchange for the keys to Natar to fix things yourself? He is a great asset to the Union, after all.”
"Because the power of my people here could spell the doom for a lot more than just those at home. If this issue was confined to the Union I could walk away without worrying about coming to you, I could try fight at home and undo the damage that is even now being caused. But you and I both know that the Unions power does not end with just its own territory." Khamir fully expected her reply.
"Arcamavir is no friend to the Unions ideals, neither was Tetlisun. I respect your father, he still is a great man. But your nation would have fallen had he capitulated to that company. I believed at the time I was doing the right thing, and I am sorry but I do not regret that. Although I do regret what happened after. I understand you believe I am your foe, and that the Union is your enemy. Ironically, that is the very drive I need. There are forces at work within the Union that intend to go further than ever to achieve their goals. If you think that me playing kingmaker in order to try save your people brought down Natar I get it, I do, but the Union that is now will go far, far further to ensure that they get what they want. And not just on Natar. The sickness will spread, you do not want Union hegemony or power on Natar, and given what my government is turning into and the information I have been told, I do not want that either."
He sighed.
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend. I am sure you have heard the term. I am not asking for us to be friends, or even cordial. I am asking for help in undermining and destroying the connections and influence here of my own government, something I am sure you wish to see done"
“Thank goodness Natar was protected from corporate exploitation by putting Mose in power.” Maisinara shot back with sharp sarcasm to Khamir, “How can you so stoically defend your notions of principles and ideals when you contributed to the precedent of intervening and meddling in other society’s affairs?” Her stare was a skeptical one.
“How do I know that your alternative would be any better. Why would a strong Union of any kind be better for the world? Why should a slave have to choose between a kind master or a worse one when both should be fundamentally opposed?”
Giving a moment to let the tranquility of their setting return her to bubbling mood back down to a simmer, she sighed.
“Supposing I did agree to aid you. What would you have me do? I don’t lead gangs of thugs or criminals; nor will I condone a campaign of political murders against unarmed men and women. Did you have something in mind for me to put my people and their effort towards?”
Khamir did not choose to rise to her baiting for deeper and further conversation on the topic of rights, wrongs and what ifs regarding the past. Her father had told him to be careful, and that was a rabbit hole that they would endlessly fall into over never seeing eye to eye. What was done was done.
"I would not ask you to commit any acts of violence madam." Khamir plainly stated. He had quite the fill of his violence anyway.
"I would ask you keep your direction, keep picking at the Unions influence here publicly. If you and your people can, eat away at it behind the scenes too. Out those who openly or secretively deal with my nation, denounce them and make their allegiance known. Any means by which my nations influence and avenues of power can be curtailed I believe will firmly help. Public opinion is against my people, that in itself can be a potent weapon when that pressure is applied to specific individuals and corporations"
Khamir’s counterpart remained quiet for a moment.
“I presume you have some kind of dossier of people to look out for? The types working for your empire from among our ranks?” Her voice called out before adding shortly after:
“I hope you realize that any kind of scandal of this nature will surely promote nativism across this planet, and stand to the detriment of your cause - Regardless of what side you are on.”
"I do"
His reply was to the point. And he held out a small data card for her to take.
"These are the individuals I am aware of. I am know what this will do, believe me I am fully in understanding of the ideological shift this will incite. But what my government is becoming, what it is doing behind the scenes goes against everything the Union stands for. I do not wish to see anyone else dragged down by it anymore."
He stared down into the water below.
"I hope this is enough"
Maisinara seized the card and gave it one, distant look over it before putting it away. She was unemotive; unresponsive, for several moments. When she did finally honour his action with a response, it was to give a mild, curt nod and polite appreciation.
“Thank you. Former Ambassador. I will use this to the best of my ability… But many of these types are still in active government: roles of potency and protection. There is only one man with the ruthless, murderous political experience and bloody contacts to deal with those who are secure from persuasion or scandal.”
She grimaced.
“Mose... But I presume you already have plans to get him back into the fold?”
Khamir was thankful that she had taken the list and was willing to undertake this. It was like a huge weight lifted from his shoulders.
However his tension did not ease, especially when she mentioned the previous Stadtholder.
"Yes, such plans are already underway by someone I trust very closely. He has retired from the political life, but his assets are sadly needed to avert further disaster. Worry not, I would not ask you to associate nor work with him even with this endeavour" Khamir understood that would simply be a step into the realm impossibility. It would not be fair to ask that of her anyway.
“Then I believe we have little else to discuss, Former Ambassador.” She emphasised the latter words to almost denote the fact that Khamir, on paper, should have no influence or role on Natar. Gripping to the information with both hands, she kept her eyes on Khamir before gesturing for him to leave.
Turning back to the waterway below, Maisinara withdrew once more to the steady flow and soothing babble of the brook.
“Safe travels.” Were her last, parting words as their meeting concluded.
__
Elsewhere, a different Unionist was meeting a different statesman of Natar. Mose Tetlisun, the Peasant-Stadtholder, had undisputably been a man for which the world shook. Fate did not make him; for he made fate - At least, that had been what people said of him until his eventual downfall. Not even the machiavellian cunning and machinations of a political workhorse like Tetlisun was enough to abate to social tidal waves that had come with the crash of the galactic markets. The galactic depression had hit few places harder than Natar, and now the name ‘Tetlisun’ was synonymous with inequality, corruption, and quiet autocracy.
Amplast Manor was the home of the reclusive puppetmaster of Natar. Amplast Manor was the former home of the lord that had sponsored Tetlisun as a child into finer education. Tetlisun had long since replaced his old ruler as owner of the estate and brushed the old nobility of the region aside in favour of creating his own self-styled petty fiefdom from where he could dwell.
An old, relatively modest stately home comprised of gnarled wood and melting glass, Amplast had once sat surrounded by verdant farmlands and even a village. Since Tetlisun’s rule, it had been replaced by nothing but forest and wilderness that made the house an enclave; isolated from the outside word by a sentry guard of tall, overgrown forestry that nearly reached the horizon. Had it not been for a single, unlit road, the place would’ve been entirely unreachable.
Saffire reached the premises at the turn of midnight. The exterior was bathed into the pale, slightly green, glow of Natar’s moonlight. There was no light from the inside, nor from without, not even the wilderness showed any sign of life or activity, and the only sound was the hush of the wind through the trees. Moving towards the entrance, Saffire was flanked by what had once, presumably, been flowers beds. Now they were overgrown plumes of gnarled thorns and wilting weeds.
From her approach, though, Saffire might’ve sworn to the sight of a shadow peering quietly from a second-story window down upon their angelic guest. It disappeared the moment Saffire got a slight indication of its presence; leaving the Unionist with only the faintest inkling that she had been watched.
Entry to the place was permitted by the visage of an old, bumbling butler, after an ominously long knock on the door. The aged staff-man preferred to use as few words as possible with the house’s visitor. Besides offering to take any kind of belongings, and an offer of a drink, he said little before departing to find his master.
“Follow the music.” Was his only advice.
The lobby that Saffire was left in was a completely different climate to the one Khamir had experienced at Thalerno’s residence. When the last Union visit to this place had occurred years ago, the entire building was illuminated for guests. It had been ablaze with life as the de-facto Capitol of the ASN during that time, with toadies and bureaucrats occupying every room with the activities of ceaseless work. No place in the house felt abandoned.
Now the entire place was dead; lit only by the slight light that fed through the windows and Saffire’s own unnatural glow like a torch in a haunted house.
Its beams creaked with each gust of wind that whistled through the house’s unheated rooms. Where once there was art on walls and furniture abound, there was nothing but the silhouettes on the dust-ridden wallpapers and floorboards where things had once been. Where once the sounds of dozens of staff reverberated the place, now there was the hollow tick of a clock unseen. It felt like the whole place was utterly unoccupied.
What had once been a proud, beating heart of the whole planet’s power and pride, had been gutted into nothing more than a weak facade of what had once been.
There was one sound, however, that did loom above all others: Music. An echoing, reverberated melody that called from down the endlessly system of black halls and unkept hallways.
It crept through the corridors like a sorrowful lure: A violin and piano humming in a painful symphony.
Sadness was all that Sapphire experienced as she had entered the house.
She had known about the various conditions in which Telirans lived, their races preferred affinity to darkness and low light conditions and the usual architecture and furnishings. And yet, everything here screamed to her of a deep, deep melancholy. It had seen better days, and had now fallen out of the light just like the person who lived here.
In a strange way she could very much relate, even as her own glow helped guide her through the dreary mansion.
The music was her second guide, its tones drifting through the manse to bring her to her charge.
She kept moving, slowly and respectfully to the old place but she said nothing aloud and kept as little noise from herself as possible as if to respect the tune. She wore a traditional orange and red dress, modelled after some of her mothers. It contrasted massively with her surroundings, as did her wings and glow. Everything told her she should not be in this place.
Still she approached close to where the music was coming from, hoping to find a man who might be able to help her cause.
Each step Saffire took was met by the creaking and groaning of the aching floorboards below; each step brought her closer to the depressed ode emanating from down the hallways. Steadily, she approached her destination: A crack of light piercing through a doorway slightly ajar. As she got closer, the violin forming the duet of the song faded and left just the piano to provide its empty serenade.
Saffire opened the door to meet a room that, unlike the rest of the mansion, was filled with the orange glow of lit candles that hung from a simple, iron chandelier and from alcoves in the rooms of this humble study chamber.
To one corner sat a work table lingering beside a few untouched bookcases and a grand clock that had stopped ticking long ago. Upon the surface of the study desk were dozens upon dozens of documents. Paper, PDA, books, that formed a mountain of correspondences, inquiries, and whatever else. It seemed like the one place in the facility that had been kept somewhat alive, albeit any hint of organization had gone to the wind.
The other side of the room was occupied by the musical instruments that perched beside metal filing cabinets, a safe, an archaic gun closet with a rifle. Only two bullets kept with it behind the glass of the cabinet. Mounted over the fireplace nearby was the skull of some grand animal from the planet. Sat behind a grand piano positioned in the corner was the fallen Stadtholder. Beside him was an unoccupied violin, its user was gone.
Mose Tetlisun was continuing to calmly play as Saffire made her entry. The look on his face as he played showed just as much of a lack of emotion as he had been known for over his years of premiership. He looked like a perfect, unmoved automaton, even despite all the delapidation of his greatness that surrounded him. Tetlisun had been the perfect machine, but the emotion and desires of those who did not share his heartlessness had rejected him from the very system he made. Now, like a machine, he seemingly continued to operate and behave just as normal, despite the fact he had been thrown aside.
Finally, with his performance ended, he quietly put down the key cover of the piano and turned his gentle attention over to Princess. Wordlessly, the former statesman rose from his stool, strolled around the table to the middle of the room and silently took a deep bow of regal respect to the Union royal.
“Madam Princess… Thank you for coming.” His voice was hushed, like years inside this dead and isolated mansion had brought his speaking volume to that of a moth, “...How may I be of assistance…?”
Saffire studied the room even as she politely stood by the door, waiting for Mose to finish his song and acknowledge her. It was simply rude to interfere, and she listened to the melancholic music while studying the remains, and the fallout of such a once powerful man. He was still powerful of course but it very much seemed like the fight had left him.
"It is good to see you again Mr. Tetlisun, its been a long time since our rather... eventful last meeting" She smiled, stepping into the room further.
"I am here for a bit of a dual errand, one as you can very well expect is politically motivated based off numerous occurrences in the last few years, the other" She grinned "Is to continue our chance without a psychotic individual ruining it unannounced" the last part was uttered in jest. Her presence seemed to help illuminate the room that little bit more.
“Likewise, your majesty.” The Teliran nodded politely. He didn’t seem to move or react by the presence of Saffire’s size as she loomed overhead. He was far more attentive to her statements.
“...I will be happy to see what I can do for you, whatever the request may be. As I recall our last conversation ended as I warned you that the relationship between the interdimensional states and the natives of this galaxy were heading towards catastrophe.” He cocked a brow,
“If I didn’t know myself better I would call myself a holy prophet.”
"Indeed, your prediction was on point."
She walked around the room slowly, admiring various objects and details.
"Before we were interrupted, I also tried to warn about threats which could become a danger to the entire galaxy, I believe we both were prophets" She stared at a particular object, not looking to Tetlisun as she talked.
"Tell me, I have an odd question and I think only you can answer. What is it like... To be free? Of the politics? Of the burden?"
Mose took a glance to scan for whatever Saffire was transfixed on as he paced the room. The inquiry by the Princess made the Stadtholder stop. He looked like he had been insulted.
“Free…? Miss Saffire, I believe you are mistaken. I am not free; I never was. This…?”
He waved his arm about the office,
“...This is not freedom. This is pointlessness and abandonment. The moment you lose your position, and your importance is spent, you become a useful insight, then a curious relic, then finally a nuisance. Freedom is to be free of obligation, and to be free of being depended on is to be alone.”
He stood upright; straightening his back and adjusting his suit.
“But I am not alone, though close to it I may be, and I am not useless… I am merely in dormancy. I will fix this little derailment in due time, just you wait.”
"I see." Her response sounded sad, Tetlisuns situation sounded much like hers had once. Or perhaps still was...
"I am glad to hear that you are still hard at work pursuing your own plans. You asked how you may be of assistance. I will spare you the details of what you already know, Saljir Arcamavir is going to fall, and fall hard after possibly some of the greatest national self sabotage ever seen. The issue is once the power vacuum starts it will be a free for all. What you may not know is, my nation is not entirely playing its cards face up"
She sighed, looking to sit down but realising her size made it awkward to use regular chairs. Instead she carefully sat down in front of the fire on the floor.
"The Union that you dealt with does not exist anymore"
Just saying those words hurt her.
"There are factions at work within that seek to cement the Unions power in the galaxy and bring it back to where it once was during the 2nd Ancerious war. Only this time, without any of the civilian interference or accountability. They seem to believe that what must be done must be done, by any means. The ends justify such. They have been working for a long time, I believe Eiastens death was directly related to this. He was ever at odds with the old guard of the military and they removed him as an obstacle. Esme is now in power and I firmly believe she is their puppet although I doubt she realises that. Already this faction has been attempting to subvert allies and enemies a like and right now Natar is likely one of their main focuses. They want the ASN to militarise, and fight on their side against whatever threats present themselves. If they cant have it, they will try ensure no one can"
She held her hands up to the warm flames. Dark memories danced in those fires.
"I do not want to see my nation cause political devastation on another out of controlling need. I cannot merely speak out about this, but we are trying to undo this before it becomes a public problem. I need your help to undermine Union influence in Natar, especially when Arcamavir falls"
Tetlisun never waivered in his interest in what the Princess had to say. He stood patiently, and maintained eye contact throughout. He made no effort to display disregard or carelessness throughout the briefing. Yet when Saffire concluded, the former Stadtholder simply gave a shake of the head and refused,
“No.” He politely refrained, “If a shadowy cabal seeks control over Natar’s government, then they may have it - They’ll find it of little use, just as the past cabals and conclaves and camarillas have. I have learnt with time that taking leadership of Natar is a fool’s errand; one that attracts people to it like a wasp trap and ensnares them in a cycle they cannot escape until they are chewed back out depleted. I spent a decade attempting to bring control and order to Natar; to fate. But I discovered that change and control isn’t found even when one control’s an empire.
With a wave of a hand the statesman wildly expressed:
“I have little care now for the politics of nations now. The idea that governments are the means to control and guide the future have been proven an illusion. The likes of the panopticon have proven that much.” His eyes locked onto Saffire, “Why should I care about the fates of nations and governments when they will disappear in the blink of an eye in the grand scheme of the universe? When they mean so little? No, the future- our future, lies in control of something greater…!” His eyes lit up with a spark of passion, or possibly madness. Whatever it was, it made the Stadtholder smile and point to Saffire.
“Once I finally have the control I need- Then I will have the ability to bring order and control to the galaxy in full, then whomever controls Natar or wherever else will be meaningless. At that point, I assure you Princess, you will not need to worry about an extremist Union militarist regime marching around.”
Sapphire was indeed surprised at the statements, her face moving from one of solemn mourning for her own people to one of confusion.
Until he mentioned the Panopticon and a vague statement about control. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly and the feathers on her wings changed momentarily in their angle with a ruffle.
"And what something greater is that? Was is this control you need? You speak of the Panopticon, but they have destroyed the minds of so many for that control"
“The Panopticon have fell short by clasping at some ethereal pocket world to harvest people’s souls into. Their power is admirable but their goals are so bland… They’re too uninspiring.” He responded as he passed over to his desk.
“No. True power lies in something less separate and distant… Something that allows one to control…” Tetlisun knocked his hand on the wooden table surface twice with a grin.
“...The fabric of reality itself. To be reality, to be fate. At that point you wouldn’t be A God, you be Be God. Nothing bound to the threads of the universe could surmount a being, an all-seeing force of that kind.”
She raised an eyebrow.
"And how do you intend to accomplish that Mose?" She was wary now, Tetlisun had always been calm and rational, a political legend. But this was talk from someone who sounded utterly unhinged.
Had she come to him in vain?
The aging Teliran gave little more than a tap to his nose in reply,
“If I hadn’t learnt the importance of discretion and secrecy, Princess, I would not have gotten far in politics.”
Just then Tetlisun’s attention was diverted by the sound of a creak. It came from behind a door close to the piano. It was slightly ajar. The former Stadtholder let out a tired sigh before turning back to his guest.
“Come out, Carilei.” He demanded, pinching at the bridge of his nose with annoyance, “Now.”
Out from behind the door emerged a small girl. She was Teliran, and yet certain characteristics like her skin tone and forehead weren’t quite aligned with the biology of the planet’s native sapient species. Tetlisun looked down upon her as she approached, she did not reciprocate the eye-contact, instead preferring to keep her face to the floor like a dog caught misbehaving.
“Princess Saffire, this is my daughter and political project: Carilei Tetlisun.” He placed a hand upon her shoulder.
“She was a High Imperial genetic project. I did not want her, but the situation commanded that I consent to her creation. Now, one day, she will take over from me.”
Carilei remained silent.
Sapphire initially looked at the child and smiled, happy to see her. But that happiness very rapidly flitted to despair as Tetlisun talked, and she realised that the young girl did not even lift her eyes to look at her. She had the look of a girl already defeated by life, consumed by another's dream.
That hit the Princess harder than she had ever realised, and she failed to conceal the look of horror on her face.
"You are seeing her as a project? Mose, children should not be used as weapons, they are not tools, please do not forget that she is alive, that she can feel" Sapphire seemed to reach out a hand towards the girl in compassion and in some attempt to illicit a positive response.
She remembered her time as a weapon, little more than a puppet for another cause. One that brought endless death and destruction to the people she was meant to protect. The thought of that being done to another, it boiled inside her. Igniting an anger that she had not felt in a very, very long time...
"Dont do to her what was done to me"
“On the contrary, Princess Saffire.” The former Stadtholder of Natar contended, “I am ensuring she will be spared what you were not.”
He lifted a finger, almost accusingly,
“You had great potential, yet you were not prepared with the fortitude to defend that power from the world. The world is a scheming, conniving, anarchic place, Princess Saffire, and you were too naive to see that before you were exploited by it. It was precisely your lack of preparation that left you exposed to the manipulation of another.”
Tetlisun patted his daughter’s head.
“I will not allow Carilei to be susceptible to such weakness. She is my project because she is worth my time; because she has the promise to achieve what I could not, with less than what I had.”
“Two kinds of people exist in this life: Those who are born to rule, and those who are born to be ruled. Fools have thought this to be a hereditary nature, but the reality is that it is a state of mindset.”
Carilei atleast raised her head. The face of a young child was countermanded by the expression of a child who had had their creativity diminished.
“I am not a tool to others. Others are a tool to me.” She politely refrained in eloquent Galactic Common.
"I misjudged you mose" She retracted her hand from the child as she realised the hooks were already in too deep.
"No living thing is a tool to use young one, I just hope some day you come to learn that" She spoke to Carilei.
"I was taken, tortured and turned into a monster. That is not lack of preparation, it was strength of realisation that I broke free. People are not tools, nor do they exist to rule or be ruled. I see that our paths have long diverged Tetlisun, I am sorry for taking up your valuable time"
Her face was one of contained rage, the glow of her aura brightening the room more as her wings went stiff.
"I just hope one day you break free"
One might expect Tetlisun to have responded defensively or with similar liveliness to the criticism of the Princess. Maybe it would’ve even been better, more reassuring, than what Saffire got. Instead, she received nothing. Like a blank automaton, Mose Tetlisun disposition remained unchanged. He stared at her with unemotive eyes and replied:
“My outlook has not changed. My views are as they have always been. The Union will have what help I can muster, you may trust me on that. But I must warn you, there is a storm brewing on Natar, and not even Arcamavir’s departure will dissipate the clouds, the military already have their talons over our civilian government - All they require now is a better statesman; preferably a Pro-Union one, and the Reservists will have Natar’s alignment.”
"There is a storm coming for this galaxy Mose, I fear Natar, the Union and countless others are just small parts of it. I..." She visibly shuddered as in calming an inner rage.
"...Thank you for your support. But I am afraid I must take my leave" Her face moved to that of an impassive observer, emotionless and cold. It was one of her greatest testaments to mental fortitude to internalise her emotions. At a greater cost down the line of course.
"I am... Glad to have caught up with you again. The Union will do what it can to aid Natar but as stated I cannot guarantee that will be in your nations best interests. Perhaps in time we may both be able to overcome our demons, our nations as well"
She gave a cold bow, taking one glance at the young girl.
Genuine sadness crossed her eyes for a fleeting moment as the Princess saw in those child's eyes her own at her weakest ebb.
Walking from that room was the hardest thing Saffire had ever done since coming to the Ancerious galaxy, the tears that flowed after ones of guilt and powerlessness.
“To have demons, Princess Saffire. One must have regrets.” The Teliran coldly replied, his face ever devoid of life. The calculating machine of a man paused for a moment to let the Union Royal depart for the door before finishing by concluding, “Learning from mistakes? Useful. But one should never be so weak as to regret.”
The former Stadtholder nodded, raised a hand, and allowed Saffire to leave to the escorting lamplight of his butler. Mose Tetlisun and Carilei remained in the music room to the fading candlelights as the darkness of the Teliran Manor once more resumed.