Our Darkest Days: Echoes

[Ishara Alastor]

With the smallest gesture, the Queen Mother summoned an obedient servant towards her.

“You, there. Send word to the Arbitrator – inform them that the vessels command now lies with Commodore Farani.”

The attendant bowed deeply before hurrying away, followed by Ishara's eyes for only a moment before the Hapan Queen returned her attention to Aaron Belargic. With his arms folded behind his back, decked out into the royal blue and gold of the Navy, he looked like a toy soldier – a game piece, the pawn to Ishara's queen. A little smile curved into her thin, darkened lips.

“...We wonder, Commodore, if you have heard news of the recent Imperial triumph in the Galactic Core.”

[Aaron Belargic]

Considering the question, Aaron arched one eyebrow a fraction. What lay beyond the borders of the Consortium might as well have been a vast and lifeless void, for all he was concerned. The affairs of the so-called Galactic Empire and their rebellion had so little impact upon the Hapes Cluster.

“No, your most exquisite majesty, I regret that I have not...”

[Elaine Alastor]

Elaine often wondered if there had been something in the past that had made her mother so.. implacable. She was as hard as diamonds, and as unfeeling and cold. Her will was absolute. Chume Ishara was to be obeyed, at all times, not reasoned with, petitioned to, or questioned. If her word was unfair, there was no choice but to submit because..that was just the way things were, but her own daughter wondered, why? Surely even a Queen Mother of Hapes was capable of mercy and feeling?

At the mention of the Core, Elaine's head lifted ever so slightly, then tipped toward her mother in interest. She was not privy to life beyond the Mists, so this was a rare opportunity for news, even if it too seemed tainted with a foreshadow of ill tidings. If she could take a man's career from him in the space of a few words, what then was this news that she seemed almost..giddy to bestow upon him?

[Ishara Alastor]

Ishara gently tapped one arm of her throne and the tell-tale blue light of a holographic image rose into the air between herself and Commodore Belargic. Evidently, though seat had more than just aesthetic appeal though what other commands were accessible at the touch of a button remained a secret, for now...

“Our servants have intercepted a transmission from the Imperial News Network. We found it to be... most interesting.”

Another tap and the image of a new reporter, microphone in hand, came to life and began to deliver his report in a professional, matter-of-fact tone of voice. As the report played, the Queen Mother's eyes did not stray from Belargic's face.

“The Galactic News Network is pleased to report the successful arrest of a man ranked highly upon the Galactic Empire's Most Wanted list of criminals. Believed to be a ringleader amongst the insurgent group known as 'The Rebel Alliance', Dasquian Belargic was apprehended during an attempt to force entry into the private residence of recently appointed Truth Minister, Sanya Tagge...”

[Aaron Belargic]

“...The Procurator of Justice has released reports detailing Belargic's past offenses, which include aggravated assault, murder in the first and second degree, grand theft, fraud, trespass, and acting as an accessory to high treason. It is expected that Belargic will face each of these charges, and more besides, when he is brought before Imperial Court later this week. Until then, he will be held in an undisclosed and high security location, to await trial.”

Though the image vanished, Aaron's eyes lingered for a moment on the point where the reporters face had been. All the while, he had listened in silence, as still as a statue, yet the observant eye would have noticed the slight tick in his left cheek and the darkness behind his eyes. The name of the Belargic family had been forever tarnished by Dasquian's betrayal of the Consortium and throughout the years it had been made plainly clear to Aaron himself that the only way to absolve himself of the burden of his brothers sin would be to hunt the elder Belargic down and removed him from the face of the Galaxy. Now, it seemed, someone had done the job for him – or rather, beaten him to it.

He had always imagined the sense of vindication he would feel at knowing Dasquian was gone, no longer a threat – however nebulous – to the prosperity of the Consortium. Confronted with news of his capture, however, the Commodore felt no triumphant joy nor indeed sadness. The Queen had expressed her interest in the matter and the hint of a smile on her lips suggested she was pleased, but Belargic suspected she would have preferred to try his brother before the courts of Hapes, against whom he had committed the most grievous crime: treason.

“Your... most sapient majesty,” he began, choosing his words carefully. “This is most welcome news, is it not?”

[Elaine Alastor]

It took years of practice at schooling her emotions and private thoughts, particularly from her mother, to not react to the news that had just been made public. Her first reaction was to feel her blood run slightly cold. Her breath caught in her throat, constricting painfully for a moment. A heartbeat later she exhaled, her mask of passive composure carefully remaining in place.

Dasquian..

Not so very long ago that name had inspired girlish blushes and secret smiles. The name represented more to her than just the given name of one man. It was the vocal representation of her young and impressionable desires. She'd devoted many a night to private musings where Dasquian, (the scandalous pirate!), would suddenly appear and resuce her from her pretty prison. He would show up in the night coming out of the shadows and whisk her away to freedom. They would set off together and laugh about how very angry her mother would be... Of course it was all just ridiculous. Her silly little infatuation with him had never even been for Dasquian himself, but for what he had accomplished.

He had escaped.

He had dared to defy her Mother and had gotten out of this life, trading it for another..far away from the regime of Ishara, the beautiful raptor whose talons curved tightly around the golden cage of the Consortium. In short, he was her hero.

“Your... most sapient majesty. This is most welcome news, is it not?”

Her control splintered. Incredulous, her eyes went straight to Aaron in irritation. What a traitor, he was! Elaine, literally, bit her tongue to keep from saying so..

[Ishara Alastor]

“Most welcome indeed.”

There was nothing quite so gratifying – so reaffirming of her absolute authority – as such obedience. She had not ordered Commodore Belargic to turn against his brother, and yet his hatred had flourish regardless, feeding his desire to distinguish himself from the tarnished reputation his elder brother had left behind. In some ways, it saddened her to say what came next, knowing how unquestionably loyal the Commodore had been, but there was simply no other way to proceed.

“Yet.. with its arrival we have been forced to make certain decisions regarding your future here. We do not doubt your dedication to the Consortium, but we are ever mindful of your history, your heritage...

What would you advise of us, Commodore, if we were to discover a contender to the throne in our midst?”

[Aaron Belargic]

Aaron felt his chest growing tight with the weight of the inevitable.

“Your majesty, I would never... you must know that I-”

[Ishara Alastor]

“Must?”

Nostrils flared with a breath inhaled and eyes suddenly alight, the Hapan Queen rose from her throne. Instantly, Belargic knew his choice of words had been foolish. Around Ishara, the throngs of slaves and servants sank lower to the ground, many falling prostrate as she stood upright, noble head held high.

“What we must do, Commodore, is ensure the peace, prosperity and security of the Consortium. For generations, we – the proud dynasty of Alastor – have safe-guarded this Cluster against those who seek to divide us, to poison our peoples minds with talk of false scions and rebellion...”

Her eyes fixed with Belargic's and even as his gaze dipped, overpowered by what he saw in her eyes, the Hapan Queen did not turned away.

“Your very existence is an unsightly blemish upon our great sovereignty. We can tolerate it no longer.”

[Aaron Belargic]

With his head lowered in submission, Aaron felt the racing of his pulse, heard its beat in his ears. The loss of his brother was... a bittersweet triumph, but he had never imagined that this would be the consequence, that his fate would mirror Dasquian's. Steadfast, his eyes lifted to meet the Queen's gaze once more as he spoke with a voice that did not tremble or break.

“In all my life, I have only ever wished to be your humble servant, ereneda.”

[Ishara Alastor]

“Then you will honor this decree as you faithfully as you have done those before it, servant.”

Malice bled into the Queen's words, the first hint of true emotion to be revealed since the Commodore had arrived before her. For a moment, her lips became pressed into a hard line, a fierce gleam in her eyes.

“We hereby strip you of your rank and duties, Aaron Belargic, and banish you from the Hapes Consortium.”

The Commodore, and those present, understood all too well the deeper meaning of the Queen Mother's words. To be exiled from the Consortium – to be so far from the beauty and glory of the Cluster – was a fate worse than death. There was only one thing to do, in such a grim situation...

Breaking away from her position guarding the Queen's throne dais, one of Ishara's amazon-like guard strode forwards toward Belargic and extended a gloved hand, offering him a standard issue military blaster pistol, handgrip first.

“You have twenty-four hours, Belargic,” the guard said quietly, her eyes meeting his without a sign of remorse. “You know what to do.”

[Elaine Alastor]

Elaine did not doubt that a speck of dust hitting the polished perfection of the floor would have sounded off like fire from a cannon in the horrible silence that followed such a sentencing.

Perhaps her own mind was too small to grasp the complexities of her great mother. It could be that she was not bestowed with the same intellect as the incomparable Ishara, however Elaine could not fathom for her own life, or the life of the ill-fated younger Belargic brother why this made any sense now, of all times? Surely, if he were truly any threat to her, the Queen Mother could have dealt with him sooner, not left him to devote his life to her service, to find his loyalty rewarded with this level of malice?

Did no one else see?

No.. They did not.

Even she was not so stupid as to utter one syllable in defense of the poor man. Who knew what fate might befall her for daring to question her mother before the gathered noblesse. Even as much as she would have enjoyed giving Mister Belargic a piece of her mind for his backward thinking, she could not truly blame him for it. That was just the way things were done here..

Eyes locked to the floor in defeat, she hid her feelings deep.

He did not deserve this..

[Aaron Belargic]

When he didn't reach out immediately to take the pistol, the woman – who seemed to tower over him, tall, lithe and panther-like – took a rough hold of Aaron's wrist and forced the weapon into his hand. His fingertips closed over the grip, feeling the unfamiliar texture and weight of the weapon. He was a naval officer, a commander of starships – it had never been fitting of his position or purpose to carry such a crude weapon. It was of Hapan design, that much he could see from the sleek design, but it lacked settings or functions; it's singular purpose was to kill.

“Y-yes, your majesty.” His voice failed him for the first time, as Aaron found himself unable to look away from the gun in his hands for a long time. Gradually, he became aware that no one else was speaking or moving anywhere around him. They were waiting for him to leave, to slink away into a darkened corner and do what they thought too dirty to do themselves. Yes, he realized bitterly, that was it. His final act of loyalty...

Execution was not uncommon in the Consortium, but it was most always done by the gun of command. Another ingenious Hapan creation, anyone shot with the gun of command would no longer be able to tell the difference between their own thoughts and impulses, and orders given by others. Many men had taken their own lives thanks to that weapon – and yet the Queen Mother had spared Aaron Belargic the same fate... or perhaps spared wasn't the right word. Then, he would have blindly followed the order to end his own life, but now he had to contend with his innate sense of self-preservation. He wondered, with a sickness churning in his gut, whether he had the conviction to do that which the Queen Mother had deigned necessary.

[Ishara Alastor]

As Belargic struggled with the realization of what fate lay ahead, the Hapan Queen moved back towards her throne, turning her back on Aaron both physically and metaphorically. Once again seated, she examined the former Commodore with a fleeting interest.

For all the Consortium, it would appear that the grief-stricken Commodore had taken his own life, unable to find peace over his brothers passing by any other means. It was a graceless way to die, but it saved him the indignity of dying before his peers. There would have been honor in a public execution, certainly, but it would also have brought into question whether Ishara had been right to allow a man of his heritage to live as long as she had. The Queen Mother had her reasons of course, yet she knew they would not be contested. None of it would be.

“Leave us. Now,” she said suddenly, only a trace of vexation in her voice, as if the matter had been little more than a minor irritation to her. When Belargic did not move, two sets of hands took hold of his upper arms and began to force him towards the throne rooms exit.

[Aaron Belargic]

It took only a few steps before he struggled against them, shrugged free of the hands on him. For a moment he met each of their eyes with a defiant stare, but the pain and sadness was too plain in him for it to seem any real kind of challenge. Nonetheless, they relented and watched as he turned away.

Beyond the throne room, the long hallway awaited him. The guards who lined the hallway were as impassive as ever. As before, they did not acknowledge his passing, yet now he was aware of it, how he was like a specter passing by.

No one questioned the fact that he was armed. Had they been forewarned of his sentence, he wondered? No guard had been assigned to him, no one to make sure that he carried out the punishment for his crimes. Was the Queen Mother so certain of his loyalty? Aaron looked at the pistol and knew, with grim finality, how fruitless it would have been to use it on anyone other than himself. What could he do, after all? Shoot a handful of guards, perhaps a civilian of importance, before they gunned him down in turn. It would be pointless and whats more he had no desire to see any other Hapan suffer such a senseless end.

Where to do it, then? Where in the city would he meet his end? The Arbitrator had been his only home for so long, but there were barracks within the city, however small they might be. The officer classes of the Navy were permitted to stay there, whilst on shore leave. There was a bar there too, he thought bitterly, wondering if he would need the extra courage.

It wouldn't take long to get there on foot – less than an hour, if he went by the scenic route that crossed the canals and waterways of the western quarter. The city was as beautiful as ever, but just as it failed to notice him, so he was unaware of it, walking with head down and mind focused on a finite point ahead...

[Elaine Alastor]

After the condemned left Chume Ishara's hallowed presence, business returned to a state of normal, as if nothing of an significance had just occurred. Out with one Commodore and in with a new one, just like they had changed shifts. The name Aaron Belargic had seemingly been erased from their silver-gilt tongues, the moment he passed from their sight.

Only one of the assembled seemed disturbed by this, the Princess Elaine. She hadn't moved at all since the proclamation. She was both horrified and sickened by the careless way loyal service was being discarded, to make a point about bloodlines and old insecurities.

She remained as a statue, still and silent until her presence was all but forgotten as everyone else seemed inclined to inch forward slowly, intent upon currying favor with the Queen Mother. Each desirious of being the one to soothe her and flatter. Disgusted, Elaine slowly shrank backward, ducking out of the presence chambers, following in the footsteps of the doomed..

[Aaron Belargic]

To his credit, Belargic put a fair bit of distance between himself and the castle before he faltered. He found himself in the middle of a bridge, his legs feeling like two columns of stone, rooted to the ground beneath them. With a sigh, he leaned his arms against the railing that overlooked the artificial waterway beneath it. A gondola was passing under the arch, the pilot whistling a maudlin tune as he dipped his oar in and our of the placid rivers surface.

Nausea stirred in the pit of his stomach. Twenty-four hours...

[Elaine Alastor]

"You are leaving the reception early, Chume Ta' Elaine.", a voice intoned behind her as she passed. Elaine had thought her departure had gone unnoticed, but her mother's eyes were always upon her, always.

"Yes. I am.", she replied quietly. Her own station as Chume Ishara's daughter, and heiress, had not corrupted her. Even if she was walked over and maneuvered around as a pawn now, someday she would rule and it would be with a gentle touch, rather than with the crack of a whip. Her people's slavish devotion to their Queen Mother would no longer be misplaced, given to a cruel and bitter woman.

Turning, she fixed the woman in her aqua gaze, a guard comprised of lethal grace concealed beneath firm, muscled flesh. One that had the ear of the Queen herself.

"I go to make sure that my future remains intact, as my mother would have it. You may report that I took a sudden interest in the finality of the situation.", she did not explain herself further, but turned back the way she had formerly been heading, and left.

It did not take her long to deduce the direction he'd gone and once she had that figured out, it was only moments later that she spotted him, leaning dejectedly over the hand rails, as if he were willing himself to tumble headfirst into the artificial waterway and be swallowed by the current..

She had no real plans once she had found him. No idea of what she would say to him or of what comfort she could offer. She was just following instinct now. Instinct that led her to his side. Her slender arms folded atop the rail as she stopped beside him, silently joining him in observing the flow of the water.

[Aaron Belargic]

With his head hung forward, Aaron scarcely noticed that he was no longer alone. It wasn't until another gondola vanished beneath the bridge, leaving the water clear once again, that he saw the reflection of someone beside him. What was she doing here?

It took only seconds for him to snap to attention and execute a martial salute, striking his right fist to the left-side of his chest. Years of routine and discipline had conditioned him to respond to the Hapan Princess as such, regardless of his emotional disposition at the time. Still, there was something ragged about the salute and the man who gave it, his once pristine appearance now disordered. His royal blue uniform jacket hung untidily open at the throat and his usually slick hair was unkempt, having been touched and tousled too many times by restless hands.

“Chume Ta.”

[Elaine Alastor]

At the acknowledgement, Elaine smiled sadly, wishing she were anything but her mother's daughter, at that moment. For the first time, she felt truly ashamed of her lineage. Still, she offered a silent nod, returning to looking at the water, still not really knowing what she had come to say, or do.

She knew what had been implied. What they all expected, even anticipated he would do sooner rather than later. She did not want him to do it. The senseless death of a valiant and honorable man would not benefit the Consortium, no matter the petty whims of her mother.

Her smooth brow furrowed for a moment, even as she remained still, watching another boat pass. "What will you do?", she asked, finally.