Interlude
How a Judge became a pirate
Seven Years ago, In route to Nabradia -
Best of the best.
The young man ran his armored hand over the metal interior of the ship. This particular air ship was above par, the newest in a long bloody line of aerial combat vessels. Massive, indestructible and all but unstoppable. Safely tucked away in it's metal bowels, Judges like himself didn't see combat hand to hand. No, they were far too important, far too Empire to sully themselves with the common stock soldiers riding on the transport ships below.
Ahead in the control room, he could hear the dim sound of conversation. The clear deep voice of Judge Zecht was issuing orders that belayed a calmness that had no place on an invasion ship. He had an ace up his armored sleeve, of that Fframn was sure. For one thing, Fframn had observed a small, single, extremely fast transport ship in the hanger bay. It was Nabradian in design and of the nondescript type that merchants used to travel from the coast to the main city once their goods had been unloaded.
Secondly, Judge Zecht himself, his presence with the armada, though explainable, these were war times and Judges were the Empire's emblem of strength and power, still struck Fframn as odd. He could count the number of times the Judge had been sent away from the main house of Solidor and only ever under the direct orders of Emperor Gramis himself. Any questions the man might have put towards his fellow Judge to the effect of clarifying exactly what the Judge had been sent to do was meant with guarded hostility. At the end, he knew only that the Emperor was acting on some grand plan of Cid's that promised to resolve the war.
And so, like so many times in the past, Judge Fframn quelled his distrust, his arguments and withdrawing so deep in to a well of apathy, he wasn't even sure if his disinterest was an act any longer.
Business as usual. Withdrawing his hand, the younger Judge shook his head in disgust. And what a business this war is turning in to... and what business is it of mine? None of this sits well with me more so because I shouldn't care to begin with.
But the truth was he did care. The affair bothered him more than any other indignity he endured as a Judge because this invasion on Nabradia absolutely stank of his father. In the shadow of Cid's madness, death followed with eager steps.
The hums of the engines vibrated through the soles of his boots. Out the command window, the clouds scrolled past.
Ever stretching is the Empire's eager reach. And my father's. No good can come of this.
Sighing deeply, he walked away from the command room, letting the voices fade away behind him. Uneasiness burrowed between his shoulders and stole from his lungs comforting breath. On the horizon, the capital loomed, windows catching the sun over a city full of life and commerce.
Please. Just this once. Let me be wrong.
~.~
On the Tragedy of Nabudis from Sage Knowledge piece 03:
"Two years past, Nabradia, fearing the military might of the Archadian Empire, made treaty with Rozarria to place troops from that land near her borders. Fearing an invasion of the Valendian continent by its sworn enemy, Rozarria, Archadia immediately exerted political pressure on the small kingdom. Yet Nabradia did not accede to their demands, and Emperor Gramis of Archadia was compelled to use force. Several days after the Archadian invasion, a terrible explosion reduced the once proud city of Nabudis to naught but rubble. Though the city fell in the space of a night, the Mist that now swirls where it once stood has transformed the land into a barren waste for eternity. Even now, the cause of this cataclysm is not fully understood."