Chapter Text
Ring System #777
The World of Od Lagna - “Lagna”
Dragon Kingdom of Lugunica
Lugunica Capital - Royal Castle
Baron Leip Barielle repeatedly tapped the table, unable to completely conceal his impatience. For many months, from when sickness first struck the Royal Family, he had run himself ragged, helping shore up the chaos due to their incapacitation. The Baron had built himself up as a staunch believer in the Royal Family’s continuity, embarking on infamous tirades against what he decried as the “cowardly infidels”. Of course, this wasn’t done solely out of patriotism or loyalty, the main goal being to expand his political influence. His efforts were not in vain as they won him a seat at the Royal Family’s table, both metaphorically and, currently, literally. However, while fruitful, one could also argue that they merely brought him to the first step in his goal of shaping the future of the Kingdom. Naturally, he was irked, even if it was the King himself who irked him so with his tardiness.
His mood was soured further as he met the gaze of Roswaal L. Mathers across from him.
‘Damn clown…’ Leip scowled internally as Roswaal, almost as if reading his mind, deepened that uncanny smile knowingly while closing one of his eyes.
The two of them sat at opposite lengths of a long rectangular table in a moderately sized chamber. The room featured two sets of grand double doors - one serving as the sole entrance, while the other led to a balcony, highlighting its elevated position within the Royal Castle.
They were not alone. At one end of the table sat Prince Fourier, his appearance pristine, as if the harrowing battle for his life just months ago had never occurred. Julius Euculius stood at attention beside him, serving as his escort. On Leip's side of the table were Bordeaux Zergev and Miklotov MacMahon, while Crusch Karsten, accompanied by her attendant Felix Argyle, and Reinhard Van Astra, representing House Astrea in light of the current head's... indisposition, took their seats by Roswaal.
Miklotov donned a wry smile. It was not lost upon him that the seating arrangements divided the older and newer generation of Lugunica’s political elite.
‘Ahhh …. Today’s youngsters never cease to impress, leaving us old folks in the dust.’ Of course, he knew this division was likely unintentional, but he could not help indulging in the stereotypical musings of an old man. He was soon to depart this world, but before then, he would exert his utmost to help guide them and Lugunica. That was, in fact, the purpose of this small gathering of the Royal Family’s most trusted: to further delve into the Kingdom’s current quagmire in more detail than was appropriate with the nobility and public at large.
Prince Fourier, for his part, exuded energy and determination, eager for the meeting to commence. Over the past few months, he had immersed himself in the backlog of reports regarding the Kingdom’s current state and was deeply disturbed to find that the Royal Family and Kingdom alike decayed in sickness. Alongside Crusch, Felix, Julius, and Reinhard, he had thoroughly discussed the pressing issues and potential courses of action. Today was the day to present their proposals to His Majesty and hopefully secure his approval, backed by the political old guard.
The occupants of the room remained silent, stewing in their own thoughts, when the double door entrance swung open revealing the Captain of the Royal Guard, Marcos Gildark. Then, after Marcos stood to the side, holding open the door, another individual walked in.
“Your Majesty!” All previous inhabitants of the room immediately stood from their chairs and knelt, one knee to the floor with heads down.
“Please rise. I apologize for my tardiness.” King Randohal offered generously, motioning at them all.
“No, your Majesty, there is nothing to apologize for. We all serve at your discretion.” Leip rose more slowly than the rest.
The King only smiled warmly before heading towards the other, empty end of the table, taking a seat with Marcos at parade-rest behind him.
“We will now commence this council meeting.” With a regal aura, Randohal Lugunica thus proclaimed solemnly.
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“While we cannot definitively rule out the possibility of this being a assassination plot engineered by our foreign adversaries, for a multitude of reasons stated, I believe it quite unlikely to be the case.” The first order of business had been to go over the investigation of the attack on the Royal Family, for which Miklotov gave his unfiltered opinion.
King Randohal clenched his fist tightly as anger and grief flushed his face. “But it is true that this was a deliberate strike against the Kingdom! Against my family! Am I to believe that, not only do we have no recourse, we also have no leads as to who may have perpetrated this tragedy! Nothing out of the ordinary or suspect leading up to it?”
“I deeply apologize, your Majesty. As the Captain of the Royal Guard, both the failure to prevent this heinous crime and produce any actionable findings in the investigation fall on me.” Captain Marcos bowed his head deeply, intent on accepting any consequence, including even the bereavement of his life.
The King said nothing as he too understood Marcos’ sentiments. The rational part of him knew that perhaps it was unavoidable. The Divine Dragon did nothing to intervene, the Kingdom’s best healers were ineffective, the Court Mage had not the slightest idea of the cause, and the Royal Knights could come up with nothing.
But the last words of Marcos caught Prince Fourier’s attention. “No actionable findings you said? Does that mean there were findings?”
“Yes, your Highness.” Marcos confirmed as everybody looked to him in curiosity. What were those findings that he did not see fit to share until now?
“As part of our investigation, the Royal Knights questioned all staff within the Royal Castle as well as audited the Royal Household records.” This was obviously standard procedure, and the others continued to listen as Marcos recounted.
“A few weeks before the sickness first struck, a kitchen maid had been fired, jailed, and fined for the repeated theft of royal plates and cutlery. Some of the stolen goods were never recovered, and, shortly after her release, she was found murdered in the slums. No doubt as a result of her being unable to upkeep her end of the deal while attempting to sell them on the black market.”
Everyone only shared confused glances as Marcos was right. While distasteful, this could hardly be considered relevant, let alone actionable.
“A detail about this unfortunate story does bother me however.” Prince Fourier mused out loud in a contemplative voice, chin resting on a fist.
“It is true that the Royal Coffers are in a sorry state, but we are still able to pay the staff, are we not? While I myself take a fancy to our plates and cutlery, I find it odd anyone would risk such a well-paying job for what only amounts to a few days of their wages.”
However, judging by the skeptical looks, it seemed that those suspicions were not shared.
“Your highness, your majesty…” Leip rubbed his clasped hands obsequiously. This line of questioning was utterly useless and only derailed from things of higher importance. “While you are certainly correct, such logic can hardly apply to the peasants, what with their notorious shortsightedness and lack of noble chivalry. It would be a waste to attempt to understand such minds, especially given the value of your time.”
King Randohal smiled thankfully at Leip, taking his flattery at face value. “Perhaps it is as you say, but as this Kingdom’s nobility and rulers, is it not our responsibility to try to understand the hearts of our subjects?”
“Urgh…” Leip’s voice caught on his throat, unsure how to respond.
Roswaal, still smiling mysteriously, offered a lifeline. “Perh~a~ps we can table this discussion for l~a~ter as we seem to be getting nowh~ere~ with this topic.”
“I do agree with the Margrave. Your majesty, should the opportunity arise, we will most certainly act decisively.” Miklotov added kindly. “But we must discuss in detail the many issues that plague Lugunica.”
King Randohal sighed, resigned. “Yes, yes you are correct. Our people are suffering and we must do everything we can to alleviate their burdens.” While his words certainly sounded magnanimous, the King knew that he would be effectively sidelined (though not intentionally with disrespect) for the rest of the meeting. Randohal may have been a fool, unsuited for rule, but he was not foolish enough to lack such self-awareness.
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“Lugunica’s economic situation is perplexing to say the least. According to the many noble reports of feudal land taxes, taxable earnings across many domains have drastically declined. Particular categories of concern include merchant activity and goods production. From engaging with the merchants within the Karsten domain, it appears the former can be partially explained by general uncertainty given … the current political situation. However, when personally speaking to them, I was struck by the notion they were not entirely forthcoming.”
Bordeaux snorted at the last bit. “That is hardly surprising with these merchant types. Likely hiding away some underhanded business strategy like the coin-rubbing rats they are.”
“While I would put it somewhat differently, I concur.” Crusch acknowledged with a nod.
Miklotov closed his eyes momentarily in contemplation. “I see. Margrave, do you have any thoughts regarding the decline in goods production?”
“As you may kn~o~w, the industrial city of Costuul produces magicreation tools and machines ess~en~tial for producing all manners of g~oo~ds. I can only confirm that dem~an~d for such capital investments have decl~i~ned which aligns with the current situ~a~tion.“ Roswaal shook his head slowly in apparent dismay with his arms up in mock wonder.
“I would assume a similar story exists for the ground dragon industry in Flanders, Sir Reinhard?”
“My apologies, Lord Miklotov… my father does not involve me with the running of the Astrea estate.” The mood turned awkward at the mention of the notorious good-for-nothing who likely did not even involve himself in said running. “All I can add is that many of the ranchers I have talked to are discontent with their slow business.”
“Hmm…This is to be expected. The poor harvests these past few years have left the common people less wanting of non-essential goods and, as a byproduct, the means to produce and transport them.” Miklotov mused out loud before narrowing his eyes. “Though, this hardly explains the Commerce Guild’s reports on the rise in prices across all goods, not just foodstuffs.”
Bordeaux’s thick eyebrows furrowed as well. “....One would expect their prices to decrease whether due to lack of demand or foreign merchants smelling potential profits…”
‘That damn bastard, Russell… What the hell does he think he is doing?!?’ Bordeaux gnashed his teeth. As the treasurer of the Commerce Guild by day and leader of the 6 Tongues at night, it was his job to anticipate such anomalies before they became a problem. Yet, he had not heard a single report regarding this!
“Perhaps the Commerce Guild may have a better idea as to why this may be happening.” Miklotov tilted his head at Bordeaux. The message was subtle but clear. Leverage his connections via Russell Fellow. “Regardless of what we might find, the problem remains. This rise in prices threatens our citizens’ very means of survival. We must decide on a course of action.”
Silence took hold over the room, everyone in thoughtful contemplation.
“If…..” A sudden bright idea lit up in King Randohal’s mind. “If the issue is that our citizens do not possess enough money to live their lives, perhaps we can increase their wealth by mixing other metals with the silver and gold coinage?”
“Your Majesty… that is….” Leip coughed awkwardly as everyone but the King shifted in their chairs uncomfortably.
Prince Fourier, to his credit, remained composed with a neutral expression. Inwardly, however, he was on the verge of dying of second-hand embarrassment.
“Lord Miklotov?” The King glanced at the old man. Did he perhaps give another idiotic idea again?
“Oho… Yes, your Majesty… Increasing the circulation of coinage would certainly stimulate the economy in the short term, but unless we address its underlying issues, I’m afraid it would only exacerbate inflation in the long run.” Miklotov explained kindly. “Though, it is surely a decisive, bold move if the opportunity presents itself.”
“Ah… yes, yes you must be quite right.” Randohal gave a strained, apologetic smile that gave everyone an inexplicable sense of shame.
While it pained him seeing his father embarrass himself by showing his ineptness, Fourier saw an opportunity to present his own ideas, ideas that wouldn’t be so easily rejected right after that of another member of the Royal Family had been so.
“Ahem. We can all agree that restoring confidence among the merchants and, hence, the circulation of goods, will reduce supply side price pressures.” He then motioned towards Julius and Crusch. “Unprecedented times call for unprecedented solutions! We believe that the Lugunican economy is in need of an external stimulus. Foreign investment if you will.”
“Your highness!” Leip raised his voice in disbelief. “You cannot possibly mean to invite foreign interference into Lugu-”
Miklotov raised a hand, bidding Leip’s silence. “Oho…. a curious idea. Do you have something in mind?”
“Well it would be undignified of me to pass off a friend’s most inspiring idea as my own, so I will leave it to Sir Julius to go into more detail!”
“I am honored for the praise, your Highness.” Julius smiled, bowing slightly before raising his voice to address the room. “If I may, the Euculius family has had business dealings with the Hoshin Company of the Kararagi City States for many years now. We believe that entering into a strategic partnership would rally merchant sentiment and revitalize commercial activities.”
“Though many nobles will not take k~i~ndly for a foreign competitor to step on their t~oe~s….” Roswaal drawled on. “But I certainly don’t see the h~ar~m….” The production of magicreation tools and machines were exclusive to Costuul - their demand would naturally result from any increase in economic activity and production.
Fourier only waved those concerns away. “I am sure we can hammer out the fine terms of any business dealings with the Hoshin company when the time comes, so that all stakeholders will profit. But the point remains! In return for broader access to the Lugunican markets, the Hoshin Company brings in capital investment to boost production and enhances merchant logistical capacity!”
Bordeaux, however, only grumbled. “Just the idea of relying upon what amounts to foreign charity is upsetting, especially given Baron Leip’s concerns regarding foreign interference.”
“Yes! Your Majesty, should we allow this Hoshin Company into the Kingdom, we could soon find critical assets and infrastructure under the financial influence of a foreign power!” Leip jumped at this opportunity to interject. “They could leverage this influence within Lugunica to hinder or obstruct economic activity!”
“Which would hardly leave us worse off.” Fourier noted flatly. “Furthermore, such obstruction would be harmful to all parties! I profess that while this may result in more entangled interests and affairs between Lugunica and Kararagi, such entanglement may work out in our benefit!“
“My, it seems your studies in governance have borne fruit, my Prince.” Miklotov nodded in seeming approval, a small smile growing. "We cultivate more thoughtful diplomatic measures, and the deepening ties between the two nations diminishes the likelihood of conflict."
“And should tensions come to ah~ea~d, any investments in business and infrastructure remain physically in Lugunica, enabling their s~ei~zure.” Roswaal smirked distastefully as he gave his own pragmatic viewpoint.
“This sounds wonderful!” Randohal beamed pridefully at his son. As a father, how could he not when he proved far more capable than him!”
Miklotov nodded in agreement while Bordeaux and Leip donned complicated faces. In theory, this all sounded well and good….
“But are we certain we can secure the cooperation of the Hoshin Company?” Leip gave one last half-hearted attempt at disagreement. To invite another major player into Kingdom politics at this moment in time….
“You can leave that to Sir Julius and I!” Fourier answered quickly and decisively. “We have already scheduled a meeting with the chairman, Anastasia Hoshin. We will most assuredly return with good tidings!”
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“As a result of these mounting pressures, public unrest has surged significantly in recent years. These disturbances only serve to further undermine the stability of Lugunica. Can we truly call ourselves nobles if we cannot even maintain control over our own people?” Leip rose from his seat, his voice rising with intensity. In the midst of his impassioned speech, he clenched one fist while extending his other arm wide, sweeping it across the audience to emphasize his words.
The meeting had shifted focus to the growing social unrest among the common citizenry. While a plan of action had been devised to tackle the underlying causes, the immediate symptoms still needed to be addressed. To stem the bleeding, as it were.
“Just get to the point. What exactly do you propose?” Bordeaux’s stern wariness was unaffected by Leip’s display.
Leip swallowed softly, choosing his words with deliberate caution. “The common people are the lifeblood of this Kingdom. For their own safety and the Kingdom's stability, we must ensure order. I propose we expand the routine patrols across Lugunica.”
He then appealed directly to the King, taking full advantage of all the fruits of worming his way into Randohal’s good graces. “Your Majesty, if you would permit, I would be honored to take charge of this endeavor in your name. For the sake of the continued peace and prosperity of this Kingdom.”
King Randohal smiled warmly at Leip, clearly moved by his loyalty and passion for the realm’s well-being. “Yes, that sounds like an excellent idea. Does it not?” He then turned to the rest of the assembly, seeking their agreement.
‘Ah…. This will certainly be difficult…’ Miklotov thought worryingly. The idea itself, broadly speaking, had merit, but the problem lay in who was proposing it and their obvious ulterior motives. He could not openly state that Leip was untrustworthy to lead this endeavor, especially since the man had clearly secured Randohal’s favor. Any opposition would have to be based on sound logic, something Leip would undoubtedly have a rebuttal for.
“There is a major issue,” Crusch interjected, her tone blunt. “The Kingdom’s knights are already stretched thin, maintaining order in the Capital and other major cities. They can barely keep up with the current patrols as it is.”
“Unfortunate! Yes, very unfortunate indeed!” Fourier interjected, swiftly stepping in to counter Leip’s potential maneuver to seize control of the knights. “Moreover, we already have plans in motion to reform and expand the Kingdom’s knighthood—currently a mere 2,000 strong!” He motioned towards Crusch and Marcos who both nodded solemnly, the latter hearing this for the first time but agreeing with the Prince regardless.
At those words, Leip smiled internally. The armed forces of Lugunica could not be considered a particularly centralized institution. Unfortunately for him, control over the most influential component, the Kingdom Knights, was locked down under the esteemed Captain Marcos Gildark, the Royal Family, and, by trusting relations, House Karsten.
"Of course, you are absolutely correct." Leip replied smoothly. "Instead, I propose we more effectively leverage existing forces, such as levied conscripts, garrisoned city guards, and local knights, through the centralization of their command."
Rather than waste energy vying for the Kingdom Knighthood, a pursuit likely to be thwarted by more opportunistic nobles, Leip focused on gaining control over the non-chivalric forces. Most nobles would have scorned the idea of courting power from the commoners, seeing it as beneath them. But the Baron understood that even cannon fodder had its uses.
“But would that not infringe on the r~igh~ts of the other nobles? Such conscripts and local knights are subservient to their liege l~or~ds.” Roswaal spoke in mock bemusement.
"Oho, Margrave Mathers makes a valid point," Miklotov mused, his voice thick with experience. "The last time Lugunica saw any semblance of centralized military command was during one of the Kingdom’s greatest crises, the demihuman war. I fear, should we attempt anything of the sort now, it would only stir the pot, exacerbating tensions among the nobility." He paused, his eyes narrowing as he measured out the consequences.
‘Tch… wily old coot’ Leip mentally cursed the old man. "We can frame the lending of local forces as voluntary, a gesture that demonstrates the nobles' commitment to upholding the King's peace," he suggested. "As for the garrisoned city guards, rotational patrols between cities can be coordinated, ensuring that both the cities themselves and the roads connecting them are adequately secured."
‘You have really thought this out, have you not…’ Fourier could not help but feel a grudging respect for the man. Leip may have been ambitious, constantly courting the Royal Family, but he was also impressively meticulous, always ensuring every detail was accounted for.
A short period of silence only confirmed the similar thoughts of the others.
“Well it seems you have truly come up with a brilliant solution, my old friend! If there are no other objects, then I give you my permission!” Randohal exclaimed happily, oblivious to the mood.
It was neither a complete victory nor a total loss for any party. Leip would not gain command of the Kingdom Knighthood, but it seemed inevitable that he would secure partial control over the less-chivalric forces. Ultimately, objections raised were little more than expected political maneuvering; in the end, the need for order prevailed, and that was a goal no one could afford to ignore.
“Then let it be so.” Miklotov sighed. “Unless you have any other motions?”
“Just the one…. It is a difficult topic to broach, especially given the recent tragedy, and I do not intend to discuss this in much detail today.” Leip lowered his raised finger and gave a sideways glance at Prince Fourier. “But Prince Fourier is of marriageable age and my adoptive daughter, Priscilla Barielle ….”
Said Prince only blanched at such a shameless play for power.
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Ring System #777
The “Trinity Descendant”
Joint Earth-Mars-Belt Colony Ship
In LEO Orbit Around The World of Od Lagna - “Lagna”
“Fucking hell….. Either of you ever seen something like that in the other systems?”
Captain Marisol Khetrek of the Trinity Descendant could only breathe in disbelief as she, Kenichi, and Rogers stood over the central console of the command deck.
“Hearing about it is one thing, but actually seeing it is completely different.” Kenichi stared at the holographic projection of the planet.
No, calling it a planet, even in the loosest sense, would be a misnomer. What they were witnessing could only be described as a world, but unlike any world they had ever seen. It was neither spherical nor terrestrial like Earth, Mars, or any of the other Ring Gate colonies. No, it defied the very laws of physics. Before them stretched a colossal continental plate, encircled by vast bodies of water. Broad and rectangular, the structure bore a concave curvature, arching outward toward the system's star while waterfalls drained into the hollowed interior of the curve.
Kenichi recited the readings from the ship’s preliminary scans before trailing off. “Orbital eccentricity around its star, axial tilt and rotation, effective gravity … everything about it behaves like a normal planet, nearly identical to Earth but….”
“Indeed. It looks almost like God himself just tore a chunk off a planet’s surface, if I do say so myself.” Rogers noted ambivalently, seemingly unbothered. “I’d wager the only reason why it hasn’t collapsed in on itself is due to that energetic mass below it and that mysterious field.”
If one were to imagine this world as a surface fragment of a once larger, Earth-sized planet, then at its heart lay a mysterious, energetic mass where the core would typically reside. It blazed with an intense, blinding whiteness, its surface undulating with shifting rainbow hues. The mass, roughly spherical in shape, churned with violent turbulence, expelling waves of energy that resembled solar flares, casting a radiant, chaotic glow across the void, water from the cascades dissociating as they drew nearer to it.
‘It hurts to even look at it…’ Kenichi noted to himself, his discomfort having nothing to do with the brightness. Rather, its pulses and undulations… it all felt so unnatural, even while just staring at a projection of it through the central console.
He looked sharply at Rogers. “Mysterious field? Around the world we intend to make landfall? Mind explaining that to us AND why you didn’t say anything back when we were in geosynchronous orbit?” The sour expression on his face told the man everything he thought about not alerting them of this BEFORE they burned within 35,786 KM, past the tidally locked moon where they could observe the world from a safe distance.
As Kenichi waited for a response, he clenched both raised fists before opening his hands, commanding the holographic projection to zoom in on the world’s structure. The display focused on a spherical field centered around the core, its radius precisely calibrated to envelop the world like a protective shield, reaching the Karman Line at roughly 100 KM above the surface.
“To be honest, I don’t care what sort of game the higher-ups are up to.” Marisol growled as she glowered at him. “But Rogers, I SWEAR, if you withholding information causes even so much as the slightest scratch to my ship, I’m going to have you sucking hard vacuum, colonial authority or not.”
Rogers only slightly frowned, seemingly unperturbed by neither the ire he garnered from them both nor the prospect of being thrown out an airlock without a suit. "Ah, while I don’t exactly appreciate such threats, rest assured, there’s absolutely no cause for concern. As far as we can tell, the field appears to be projected by that energetic core. You’ll likely also observe a few smaller orbs of energy flitting about the surface of the field. They are also quite harmless, assuming you don’t, shall we say, make direct physical contact…”
Marisol’s eyes hardened even further, literally screaming “ELABORATE”.
“...as they will explode. Together they seem to play a vital role in keeping energy gradients smooth and the entire structure intact” He continued with a strained smile. “As for my omission earlier, well, I simply deemed it unnecessary at the time. We’re dreadfully behind schedule and, frankly, there wasn’t time to waste dallying near the moon."
As a matter of fact, Rogers wasn’t entirely in the wrong, given that they had spent over a day, deploying a communications satellite in geosynchronous orbit between the world and its moon.
“Courtesy of the joint colonial authority!” He had exclaimed while fussing over this and that. The man had even joined in one of the spacewalks, helping install and configure necessary modules, earning at least some respect from everybody on board. Kenichi himself could appreciate Rogers’ efforts in helping solve the issue of the world’s communications shadow every hour or so. The Trinity Descendant certainly couldn’t orbit so far away from the colony, stressing the capabilities of any transport shuttles containing people or goods. But something caught his attention.
“Hold on.” Kenichi raised his hands. “As far as we can tell? Who’s we ? It sure as hell isn’t us! And be specific! I want to know exactly where this information is coming from!”
The smile on Roger’s face remained, but, and Kenichi wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, it seemed like it no longer quite reached his eyes. “Numerous surveys were conducted, their reports only recently declassified by ONI and released to the Transport Union. I understand your concerns. I truly do. But I’ve been assured that the past ten years were far from wasted. Every effort has been dedicated to ensuring that any future colonists would be safe... well, relatively speaking, considering the current inhabitants, what with their penchant for waving around sharp implements of course."
(A/N: ONI - Office of Naval Intelligence, United Nations Navy Military Intelligence Agency)
“Any more physics-defying fuckery that we have to worry about from this godforsaken world and system?” Marisol sharply countered sarcastically.
“From the celestial structures? I’ve explained all the most pressing things that come to mind, but I’ll point you to the relevant surveys. Though I must warn you, there is a veritable mountain of data.” Rogers shrugged as he fiddled with his terminal, drawing the attention of both Marisol and Kenichi to their own devices. “However, and I’m sure you’ve heard of the reports. A notable minority of the local inhabitants possess abilities that are, to put it mildly, quite alarming. Incredible strength. Unmatched speed. And even the ability to produce phenomena we’ve, for the sake of convenience, labeled as magic.'"
“...Well, so long as they stay stuck in the mud and don’t show up in orbit, that’s your problem.” She jerked her chin towards Kenichi.
He only sighed, massaging his forehead. “Yeah, I’ve read them… over a thousand systems with habitable worlds. And we just had to settle the one filled with magical superhumans … and demihumans.”
“Which is why I am here on the behalf of the joint colonial authority you’ve all had such misgivings about!” Rogers interjected with reassuring levity.
He continued to smile wryly as the other two raised an eyebrow, apparently impressed at this new display of self-awareness. “Oh don’t look so surprised. While I do find the friction between us regrettable, my being here is a necessity to ensure relations between the colonists and natives proceed smoothly. We can’t have anyone commit some faux pas and end up with their head on a spike!”
“Which would be a real pain to deal with, especially back home.” Kenichi grumbled.
“Oh?” A look of mild curiosity flashed Marisol’s face. “Why would that be? Couple colonists biting off more than they can chew. Bite the dust. Not like that isn’t anything new. So what?”
The captain’s question wasn’t without merit. At roughly 2 billion KM from Earth to the Sol Gate, up to 1 million KM between any two gates within the Ring Space, and another 2 billion KM to a new system’s habitable zone, perilous situations were bound to occur. The crew skimping on fuel and supplies. A fusion drive conking out while en-route. Accidents while orbiting and deorbiting. The colony itself collapsing due to in-fighting, exotic natural disasters, dangerous alien wildlife, etc. Earth, Mars, and the Belt would, of course, attempt to answer any calls for aid, but space was vast. Sometimes, a ship simply wouldn’t make it in time, leaving nothing but legitimate salvage for the would-be rescuers.
"No. It's one thing if a colony fails due to logistical issues or other such complications. But it's entirely different if it's eradicated by a civilization of humans. That... is a diplomatic situation." He replied darkly, staring at the world’s holographic projection.
“Diplomatic? What, Earth and Mars so eager to recognize the sovereignty and right to self-determination of other peoples all of a sudden?” Marisol barked in sarcastic laughter. Fat chance.
It had taken the Outer Planets Alliance enormous efforts to secure Belter’s equal representation within Sol System politics through the formation of the Transport Union. Saving both Earth and Mars from utter annihilation after they lost control of their own protomolecule-based weapons projects, developed through the sacrifice of over a million Belters. Helping crush the uprising led by a deranged terrorist who masterminded the stealth asteroid strikes on the two planets killing billions, sparking the Free Navy conflict. And now, she was supposed to believe they fully recognized these primitive civilizations as equals?
“Hell, I doubt even the Belt would consider them anything more than a profitable curiosity.” Marisol bitterly added. Given her life experiences - smuggling contraband, gunrunning, raiding merchant ships, and fighting both against and alongside the inners - she understood how fortunate she was to be pushing 60. It was undeniable that life was improving for Belters as a whole. And yet, she could not help but lament how this newfound wealth was changing them. The rebellious, resourceful fire that once defined Belters seemed to be fading, replaced by an increasing similarity to the Earthers and Dusters. Duplicitous. Greedy. Cruel.
(A/N: Inners - Colloquial term for people from the inner planets Earth and Mars, Duster - Derogatory term for Martians, Skinny - Derogatory term for Belters)
“”Diplomatic situation” … is putting it gently.” Rogers motioned awkwardly with one arm while scratching the back of his head. “Mr. Natsuki. Perhaps it would be best if we explained in clearer terms… so that we are all on the same page regarding the stakes.”
Sighing tiredley, Kenichi learned closer with both arms supporting himself on the console and began to level with them. “You’re right Marisol. They very likely don’t. But the powers that be have public mandates they must fulfill which means this colony will happen, one way or another.”
Indeed, 10 years had proven to be the limits of the public's patience when it came to holding off on experiencing a literal fantasy world. It was a telling reflection of humanity's sorry state, long accustomed to the cold sterility of steel, stone, and glass, drowning in technology and industry. The prospect of a medieval fantasy world stirred within many the naive, nostalgic dreams of childhood, their imaginations igniting with wonders.
“But public opinion is fickle.” Kenichi continued, having witnessed his fair share of colonists come to the sinking realization that Earth hadn't earned the title "Cradle of Humanity" without good reason. “This is a medieval world, regardless of any fantastical elements. All it takes is one recording, transmitted across Sol. A colonist’s head on a spike. Their body hanging as crow food.”
“And, recognition or no, the UN, MCR, and Union will have to respond to one of their citizens being murdered by a foreign state. A matter of pride if nothing else.” Rogers added while nodding in confirmation.
Kenichi’s face turned even grimmer. “And if things escalate too far …. Well the navy boys don’t play around.”
“Going in without being invited, occupying other people’s shit, and glassing any opposition….. Guess some things never change.” Marisol snorted darkly. “But I get it. If the colony has to happen, guess we gotta at least try to head off any shitstorms.”
“Sounds an awful lot like we’re trying to justify our part in all this as just “being the lesser evil”...” Throughout history, it was common for those complicit in systemic evils to justify their actions as attempts to "limit the damage," all while attempting to shirk responsibility. Kenichi himself was acutely aware of the hypocrisy in his role, essentially taking part in the colonization of a less advanced people. Perhaps it was inevitable, this world's fate sealed the moment the Ring Gates opened. Yet, that didn’t make his active participation any less distasteful, no matter the justification.
“Oi. You aren’t getting cold feet now , are you?” Catching his muttering, Marisol interrogated him.
He looked up solemnly, face filled with resolve. “No. Absolutely not. I had plenty of time to mull this over even before I accepted this role.” Kenichi’s purpose was clear. He would do his job, continue searching for his son, and try to do right by everybody the best he could.
Rogers smiled wanly. “Then shall we head to the shuttles?”
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“Dropship 1, this is flight. Standby for final clearance to drop.”
Mechanical hums echoed through the dropship’s hull as preparations were made for separation from the Trinity Descendant. Inside was relatively spacious, the dropship a larger civilian variant derived from the militarized models used by the UN or Martian Marine Corps and capable of holding 50 people (albeit uncomfortably but at least without turning the occupants into tenderized meat during liftoff or descent).
“Roger that. Awaiting clearance.” The pilot replied, seated in the upper cockpit area.
Below in the passenger compartment, Kenichi fiddled with his seatbelt and gear, finishing with a final check on his holstered pistol, feeling the cold steel and polymer composites beneath his touch.
Across from him, his only fellow passenger, Rogers sat relaxed, hands clasped over his lap as if he were waiting for a routine flight. The man, too, had just finished checking over his sidearm, his movements fluid and precise, releasing the magazine with a quiet click, inspecting the chamber, sliding the magazine back in smoothly, and ensuring the safety.
Kenichi stared pointedly. “You seem to know your way around that handcannon.”
Rogers’ lips curled into a half-smile. "I’ve been around the block a few times. Just a precaution, of course. It wouldn’t do to galavant about unarmed."
“And would they even be useful … you know. Superhuman abilities and all?”
Kenichi was only answered with a shrug. “So I’ve been told, but I truly hope we never come across the occasion to find out for ourselves.”
“No disagreements there. Especially if we’re just heading down to secure a village charter.”
The "mission" seemed straightforward; Kenichi and Rogers were tasked with making landfall and securing a village charter, an official document that would grant the colonists rights to land, control of productive activities, and even a degree of independence under the rule of a noble. According to Rogers, this world’s villages typically existed at the mercy of whichever noble's domain they fell under, their inhabitants bound to the whims of their lord. What the colonists sought, however, was something different, something more ambitious. They aimed to lay the foundation for a settlement that would eventually grow into a city resembling the “Great Cities” of this “Dragon Kingdom of Lugunica”, where governance was instead dictated by a strict legal framework, paving the way for complete autonomy.
“Though, tell me. How exactly is this supposed to work? We’re just gonna waltz into a noble’s mansion and go: “Hey, you mind letting us create a semi-autonomous region where we’ll settle 500 villagers from - what was the story again?” Kenichi paused, wracking his mind for the exact term.
"Beyond the Great Waterfall." Rogers prompted, a hint of amusement in his voice. "And it's not just a story, it's the truth! Well, at least the truth as they can best grasp it, given their... rather limited understanding of astronomy. Though, I suppose they aren't entirely to blame, considering the utterly unnatural structure of their world."
“Right. Right. And what about the out-of-the-blue absurdity of this request?” Kenichi crossed his arms skeptically. At this point, he had no doubt Rogers had something in mind, but the man seemed to almost relish having others jump through hoops to get an explanation.
“There’s no need to worry. I won’t bore you with the details, but there’s been quite the amount of legwork done prior to our arrival. Ah, think of it as recompense for the months-long delay in the Ring Space!”
Kenichi opened his mouth, as if about to speak, but then hesitated, the words fading before they could escape. "...I see. I won’t ask, but as long as you’re committed to the success and safety of our people, that’s enough for now."
Rogers couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Haven’t I made that clear all this time?”