P 1.4 - Akane

  Mater Patriae Commercial District,

  In the meantime,

  “Regardless of your opinion, Galeria, I have already made my decision to go. So we can conclude this pointless discussion.”

  “Miss Taira, I beg you to reconsider.”

  Akane turned her head toward the seemingly endless promenade — or more precisely, away from the piercing, ever-bright gaze of her bodyguard.

  To her dismay, the gesture accomplished little. They were alone on the wide, floating sofa gliding through the vast halls of the Mater Patriae’s commercial district.

  She had booked the largest one for comfort, and yet she felt smothered — not by the space, but by Galeria’s persistence.

  “Miss Taira, you don’t—”

  “Galeria, how is that supposed to be unsafe? You’re here, aren’t you? A living testament to the sturdiness of the very battleship you insist on belittling,” Akane said, pouting.

  She gestured with practiced elegance, lifting a gloved hand to indicate the enormous glass panels lining the promenade. But what she pointed to, far beyond the glass, was the Parvus.

  Galeria had once commanded Alter-human forces aboard that very vessel.

  Its dark, angular mass loomed in Saturn’s reflected glow — two massive hulls joined together to form a single body, split in the middle by a deep, horizontal seam that made it look like twin ships were forced to coexist.

  At the stern, towering above the rest, rose a broad fin-like structure — the command bridge — its rear edge sheared clean to make way for the main fusion thruster array.

  The Parvus was a relic of the Earth Alliance, the largest battleship of their fleet. But now it was dwarfed by the other two civilian giant ships taking part in Eden — the Mater Patriae and the newly constructed Tabula Picta.

  If the Parvus ever turned on them, it would win. Undoubtedly. Neither could rival it in military might.

  Unless the Union Leader chose to restore the Mater Patriae to its former role.

  But Akane wasn’t leaving the Mater Patriae for safety.

  She was leaving to escape the performance — the parade of regional regents, UN.SY. politicians, bureaus heads, aristocrats, and corporate elites.

  She had spent months navigating that suffocating theater, each day making the mask she wore feel heavier.

  Worse still, she needed distance from one person in particular: her fiancé, Gothard De Chevelle.

  Gothard was the second son of Gérard De Chevelle, head of the powerful De Chevelle family — a dynasty that, for the past centuries, had invested heavily in constructing vast residential zones on Earth.

  Akane’s family, by contrast, were true nobility. Martian nobility. The Tairas had roots on Earth that stretched back millennia, but it was during the so-called Red Rush, around U.S.Y. 2150 that they rose to true prominence.

  Her ancestors had left Earth for Mars, designing, building, and managing several Metropolitan Space Stations that orbited what at the time was still known as the Red Planet — before its ices were melted and vegetation bloomed.

  When the War erupted later, it had seemed only natural for the Taira family to support the FPR in its push for independence from Earth’s dominion.

  But all those dreams were shattered together with Phobos — when the War was lost and Mars turned unhabitable again.

  The Tairas fled Mars, abandoning their ancestral holdings, returned to Earth after centuries.

  It was Akane’s grandfather who struck a deal with the newly formed UN.SY. government. The Taira name still held too much weight — in expertise, in influence, in legacy — to be discarded.

  And UN.SY., desperate for new housing and proper management of orbital residential infrastructure, found the alliance mutually beneficial.

  Today, Taira Nobuhide, The Sky Emperor as they called him — Akane’s father — governed the EOSR, or Earth Orbit Special Region.

  He was, by all accounts, one of the most powerful men in the entire United System.

  But power came with responsibilities. Some of those were fated to fall on Akane.

  She was the third of four children — but the only daughter. As such, she had always been a desirable political asset.

  The arrangement between her and Gothard had been settled by their fathers seven year ago — when she turned thirteen.

  Shortly after, she had been forced to leave her beloved home aboard the MSS Nea-Ur, to live as a guest in the De Chevelle estate in Metro-Britannia — a gilded tower built upon the dumpster of the megalopolis.

  She would be lying if she claimed those years were entirely unpleasant.

  —Freedom was the finer pleasure, although.

  The overly mannered pantomimes of the upper-class — Gothard being a fine representative of them — were a small yet daily torment that soon turned unbearable.

  On her eighteenth birthday, she left Metro-Britannia under the pretext of devoting herself to political studies and following in her father’s footsteps. She used the opportunity to travel the world — and quietly caused her marriage to Gothard to be postponed until the end of her education.

  That had been two years ago. Before her studies had suddenly come to an abrupt halt — just like her escape did.

  Eden was the cause of it.

  A word that sounded like a hopeful leap into the unknown to most.

  But to Akane meant she was forced inside a ship filled with all she had tried keeping away from her.

  —The transport slowed suddenly, easing into a new lane to prepare for docking.

  “Look, Galeria, the elevator is in sight. It’s almost time for us to part ways,” Akane said, smiling.

  “Miss Taira, I beg you — at least allow me to accompany you. I’m certain that if you appealed to the admiral again—”

  “Oh, no, Galeria, that would be impossible,” Akane said with a quiet chuckle.

  “The Parvus is already close to exceeding its passenger limit. It was kind enough of Admiral Cornelius to indulge my dear little brother’s wishes and allow me to accompany him.”

  “Miss Taira, I’ll speak plainly.” Galeria’s tone grew harsher, unbefitting of her. “I suspect Admiral Cornelius has ulterior motives for permitting your presence aboard his battleship.”

  Akane frowned at the warning.

  “He is a pragmatic man. He would not act unless he foresaw a strategic advantage. I know him,” Galeria continued.

  “You say you know him well? You knew him, you surely meant,” Akane rebutted. “Perhaps peace has made him more human — while you still linger in the past.”

  “The admiral and my brother simply share a sense of theatricality,” she went on, dismissing Galeria’s concerns. “When Hiro contacted him to ask whether he could perform his new composition The Last Ride during the Parvus’s departure, the admiral was overjoyed. And when I asked to accompany him, do you know what he said?”

  Galeria glared instead of replying.

  “It is only fitting for the queen of ships to have its princess,” Akane recited.

  Galeria clicked her tongue at the quote.

  “Oh? It’s not like you to show anger, Galeria,” she scoffed, her face bright with amusement.

  “So you do have emotions. I had little hope for the admiral’s character — being a H.O.Pe. human like yourself — but he’s exceeding my expectations.” She chuckled.

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  “Now you’re starting to be interesting too? Perhaps what you needed was just some motivation.”

  “You surely jest, Miss Taira,” Galeria replied flatly, composure restored. “As I said, I know the admiral well. He has not changed — our kind never do.”

  “Lies,” Akane said, waving a hand as though brushing away an unpleasant thought.

  “If you hadn’t changed yourself, the old Galeria Regina would have snapped my neck already, faced with my constant teasing and disrespect.”

  Akane sighed.

  “Yet you’ve never so much as raised your voice, despite my efforts — the fact that I’m so surprised by something as little as a tongue click should say enough.”

  But she wouldn’t act with Cornelius the way she acted toward her personal guard.

  Disrespecting an H.O.Pe. human admiral might prove foolish.

  “…to protect you. That is my duty. The purpose I was given — a good one, at last…”

  She heard Galeria mutter to herself — but there was no more time left for conversation.

  The transport came to a stop.

  “We were finally having an interesting exchange — but it’s time for me to go and meet Hiro,” Akane said, interrupting.

  They stepped off the hovering sofa. Galeria unloaded Akane’s luggage, and together they made their way toward the elevator.

  Akane paused for a moment, scanning the crowd.

  It was a scene she had seen a thousand times — high society, gliding through the halls of power like schools of proud fish.

  The commercial district teemed with UN.SY.’s elite: flowing gowns, tailored suits, gliding entourages. Every one of them was surrounded by their own small world — towering bodyguards, well-mannered tutors, sub-human servants small as children.

  Their demeanor made it look like they were heading to a farewell gala, still seeking the envious gaze of their peers. Like they were ignorant of what came next, of what Eden was.

  But they weren’t unaware — just numb to it.

  “I really wish this was a farewell,” Akane muttered under her breath.

  —Then looked away and continued toward the elevator.

  —

  “Hiro must already be waiting for me in the hangar,” Akane said to Galeria, her voice carrying genuine excitement.

  She was scheduled to meet her brother at 08:45 in hangar CD-55 but had risen early to make a few last purchases.

  Being aboard a military battleship would be a first for her, and she doubted her usual fashion-forward wardrobe would suit the environment.

  Akane wasn’t about to wear a uniform — but neither did she want to draw attention. She just wanted time with sweet little Hiro.

  Galeria nodded while Akane began whistling softly as the elevator traveled. The farther she got from the Mater Patriae, the more she felt her real self could resurface.

  When the elevator doors slid open, Akane stepped out in haste and, despite her heels, walked with long strides to cover the hundred meters separating her from her brother — and from freedom. Galeria and the floating luggage followed close behind.

  The giant triangular gate of hangar CD-55 soon appeared before her. She approached the reception desk to begin security checks.

  “Well, even if you’re not listed as a passenger, you’re registered as private armed security personnel — you may pass,” said one of the two security officers, addressing Galeria.

  “Your shuttle is AG-0984. It’s already docked and finishing final preparations for departure. Have a safe trip!” the officer added, bowing slightly as he unlocked the hangar door.

  The massive doors began to part as sirens played.

  “Hirooo!”

  Akane’s shout echoed through the hangar the moment the gate stopped. She took off running toward a slim, black-haired boy standing near the shuttle.

  As soon as he came within reach, she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

  “Aaah... stop it, sis! That’s embarrassing! And we’ve been seeing each other every day since we boarded the Mater Patriae anyway,” cried the boy, his face turning steadily from pale to deep red.

  “Okay, but before that?” Akane protested. “We only met on special occasions — birthdays, System Unity Day, your concerts — your big sister still gets emotional.”

  She released him with a gentle smile and stepped back.

  Hiro Taira, her youngest brother, was a delicate-looking boy of thirteen, with straight black hair falling long and disheveled around his face.

  He was timid and soft-spoken, though not from insecurity; his quiet nature came with an inner steadiness revealed in his impeccable posture — honed over countless hours of musical training.

  Dressed in a crisp white shirt, black trousers, and fine true-leather accessories, he carried himself with the poise of both noble birth and practiced performance.

  “You may be right, sis,” said Hiro in his soft voice. “Anyway, I’m happy you’re coming with me on the Parvus. I absolutely have to play that piece on the bridge — I just feel it has to be that ship.”

  His tone lowered to an embarrassed whisper. “But if I’m honest... I was a little scared to go alone.”

  “Don’t worry, Hiro,” she reassured him with a warm smile, “your sister would rather spend a lifetime on that battleship than another hour here. You being with me is just the final push I needed.”

  She looked around.

  “Why are you here all alone? Where are your escorts?”

  “Oh, I already sent them away — and I wasn’t alone.”

  Akane heard a throat being cleared behind her.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt such a tender family reunion for something as trivial as offering my regards to the Princess.”

  The Princess. Akane hated that nickname. But as the Sky Emperor’s only daughter, it had been stuck to her the moment she was born.

  Annoyed, she turned toward the voice.

  A man in an elegant gray suit stood bowing before her. He looked around fifty — tall, slim, his chestnut hair slicked back with grizzled streaks, green eyes gleaming with both intelligence and arrogance.

  On his lapel shone the golden UN.SY. sun — nine wavy rays — and, at its center, the unmistakable sigil of the Science Bureau: two serpents coiled around an hourglass.

  He looked familiar. They had met before. She couldn’t recall when — probably one of the countless formal functions she’d endured.

  “Apologies for the delay in introducing myself. I am Doctor—”

  “Doctor Jeffrey Aldermann,” she interjected. Her memory hadn’t failed her completely.

  “There’s no need for introductions. We met during the Tabula Picta’s christening on the Moon last year, did we not?”

  “I’m honored that one such as myself managed to earn a place in your memory, Miss Taira.”

  “No need to humble yourself, Doctor. The flattery is quite enough.”

  Akane paused slightly, her tone sharpening.

  His presence here was odd — this hangar was reserved for shuttles bound for the Parvus. She and her brother were already exceptions.

  “Out of curiosity — what brings a Science Bureau executive here? And why were you in my brother’s company?”

  “I just returned from the Parvus, Miss Taira. I wanted to personally ensure that Scipio’s synchronization with Minerva and Egeria was proceeding without error,” the man replied easily.

  “As for your second question — how could I pass up the chance to speak with the youngest musical genius in the System?”

  Aldermann’s eyes drifted from Akane to her brother.

  “Oh? I didn’t know you were interested in music, Doctor — or in machines. Wasn’t biology your field of expertise?” She arched a brow. “I wasn’t aware the Bureau was so short-staffed they had you auditing AIs.”

  Aldermann smiled.

  “I feel the wit of the Princess matches her brother’s gifts. Your father is favored by fortune indeed.” He inclined his head slightly.

  “Unfortunately, I can’t say I’m well-versed in the musical arts. But I do take particular interest in anything… unique. And I would include your brother in that precious category.”

  Excessive politeness. Flattery. False modesty. The man was no amateur at the political ballet.

  She realized she’d made a small mistake — asked two questions too close together. The more important one had been deftly sidestepped.

  But if Aldermann didn’t want to be direct, she couldn’t force him. Still, she could prod a little more — and perhaps guess who he’d really gone to meet.

  “Unique, you say? My brother certainly qualifies. And not just him.” Her tone cooled. “I wonder... weren’t you hoping to meet someone else today? Your Bureau’s precious creations, perhaps?”

  She turned toward her bodyguard, who stood silently behind her.

  “You met the admiral — and now my bodyguard.”

  Galeria Regina — named so by the Science Bureau after her rebirth as a H.O.Pe. human.

  Despite being over one hundred and eighty years old, she looked only a few years older than Akane.

  Her figure drew glances even more than Akane’s: a crisp black suit over a body both slender and strong, sculpted with unnatural symmetry yet entirely organic. A predator’s poise paired with pale, flawless skin and an angel’s delicate face.

  The only things that betrayed the danger she truly was, were the warrior-like silver braid draping behind her back — and her eyes: Like all H.O.Pe. humans glacial blue and quietly gleaming with power — like powered by electricity.

  “Did you hope to meet Galeria? Is that why you lingered with my brother?”

  Aldermann chuckled softly. “You overestimate me, Miss Taira. But I’m grateful for the encounter nevertheless.”

  He turned to Akane's bodyguard. “Galeria, how have you been?”

  “I am pleased to find you still healthy, Dr. Aldermann.” Her tone was even, precise. “I remember meeting you as a child, when your father Gustav still guided me in understanding my condition as a H.O.Pe. human — during the War.”

  Akane blinked, processing the implication. That meant Aldermann was almost as old as her.

  She watched him step closer to Galeria, their conversation continuing in low, measured tones.

  “Please, Galeria, you may call me Jeffrey,” he said with a thin smile. “No need for formalities between us — we’re siblings, in a way. We share the same father, after all. Even if our births were… different.”

  She remained silent, expression unchanged.

  “Are you to accompany your mistress aboard the Parvus?”

  “No, Doctor Aldermann. I was not permitted on the ship.”

  “That is a shame, truly.” He sighed. “I had hoped for years that you and Admiral Cornelius would meet. Perhaps if he saw you, even that stubborn head of his would remember the duty you both share. For him to refuse you as a partner gave me — and my father before me — great displeasure.”

  “My duty does not lie with Admiral Cornelius, Doctor Aldermann.”

  “Oh? And where does it lie, then?”

  He glanced briefly at Akane before smiling again.

  “Ah, I see.” His chuckle was dry. “I won’t hide my disappointment — in both you and the Admiral. But we share some blame, too.”

  He tilted his head. “I’ve long thought we made your generation… lacking. In ambition. Though perhaps that’s just mercy toward humankind.”

  “Leave us, Galeria.” Akane’s voice cut through the air like a knife.

  “If I hear this man address you further, I might throw up before I even set foot on the shuttle — and we’re about to depart anyway.”

  Galeria bowed, without protest this time, and withdrew.

  “The rumors of your foul tongue are true, Miss Taira,” Aldermann observed, watching her go.

  “So are the rumors of the Science Bureau overstepping its bounds,” Akane replied evenly. “Since Eden began, you’ve all grown far too full of yourselves.”

  The Bureau executive offered no answer.

  “When this operation ends and that promised new home is finally within reach, the Union Leader will discard you — just as it blamed your Bureau for the Alter-humans.”

  A flicker of something sharp passed through Aldermann’s eyes, followed by a quiet laugh.

  “Spare me the laughter, doctor — and perhaps, when the time comes, I’ll put in a good word with my father and find you a position,” Akane said lightly. “Having a gardener with some knowledge of biology could prove useful."

  "Assuming, of course, you don’t kill us all trying to reach the planet you promised.”

  Aldermann stared for a moment.

  “Amusing. You are truly amusing, Taira Akane,” he said at last. “But you’re still too young to see the whole picture. Eden is to humanity what the Alter-humans were to Earth during the War — hope. The hope that a future still exists.”

  “Oh, I’m young, certainly,” she replied. “Especially compared to you, Doctor — who may be as old as Galeria, it seems.”

  She paused just long enough to gather the right words.

  “Let me paint that picture you think is beyond me:”

  “We’re about to detonate quite a number of bombs into Saturn’s core — enough to collapse it and punch a hole through space itself. A hole that should allow us to reach a habitable world fifteen hundred parsecs away.”

  Akane raised an eyebrow.

  “Even if you ran the math through every AI in your precious Synapsys, doesn’t that sound a little far-fetched?”