Starchild

I do not own Fire Emblem or any of its characters.

Chapter Thirteen: The Motherland Knows

Ephraim waited until after the funeral to show her the magazines he'd collected during his jaunt to Lieberia. Eirika looked through them with a rising sense of dismay; while the crew assignments for Peace, and the mission plan for Peace itself, remained secret, the foreign press was well aware that Lunar Queen Eirika was spending a great deal of time in the company of the pilot known as the Hero of Space. As Eirika looked at the pictures of herself with Marth- some taken with a telephoto lens, some alarmingly clear and close-up- and the speculative captions the Lieberian columnists had supplied for them, she felt a bit... dirtied.

Eirika intended to just leave the magazines on Neimi's desk with the excuse that her secretary might be amused by them. Pilot 012 did, after all, have more important things that demanded her attention. Important things, like sending cards to new mothers who'd named their sons "Eirik" and their daughters "Eirika" in her honor, or sending autographs to nine-year-old students who'd written in to Captain Sieglinde, calling her their favorite star-sailor. But as she flipped one of the tabloids over, she noted a strangely familiar photograph accompanying one article.

"Early promise of Lieberian space program has borne no fruit," lamented the article's header. Eirika read through the article, a frothy piece long on opinion and short on fact, before she allowed herself to look at the caption of the photograph.

Though Lieberia rejoiced when two of her pilots were accepted into the UFN manned space program, they have not yet flown a mission.

Eirika forced herself to look again at the photograph- calmly, without any wild leaps to unsupported conclusions. The central figure in the photograph was beyond doubt General Mycen, and three of the faces around him were familiar to Eirika. Celice, Leaf, Roy. But the other two young men, the ones who stood in the grouping where Eirika was used to seeing rosebushes, were unknown to her. One bore a striking resemblance to Leaf, but had light eyes- blue or gray, Eirika could not tell; the other was tall and slim, with wavy fair hair.

This then, was the secret of that day in Bethroen. Two pilots, or potential pilots, whose names had never been celebrated in the streets of Magvel, Lieberia, or anywhere else. Two young men whose faces, whose very existence, had been carefully brushed away.

-x-

"I like this one."

Roy tapped the least complicated of the mission badge samples laid before the Peace crew. It showed a pure-white dove, an olive branch in its beak, hovering above the lunar surface with Terra in the background. Around the rim of the badge ran the crew names, as was customary. Anriou-Gilleroth-Sieglinde.

"Yes," agreed Eirika. The design had no capsules or rockets cluttering it, nor did it contain anything overtly patriotic. It was simple, universal. To Luna, with peace in our hearts.

"It's the best of them," said Marth. "The names should be removed, though."

Eirika blinked.

"This is a moment to be shared by all humans... not only the three of us," Marth added, before either of them could ask.

Yes, of course. Eirika nodded her agreement. It was a moment to be embraced by all the humans scattered across the globe of Terra, from Lieberia to the distant snows of Ilia. The thought of Lieberia reminded Eirika of the mystery lurking her desk-drawer, though, and once Marth had collected the sample badges and left to give their decision to the generals, Eirika decided to hazard a conversation with Roy.

"Did Leaf have a brother involved with the Programme?"

"No." Roy's voice, like his smooth-cheeked face, was not fully matured, and Eirika could hear a note of sharp surprise pierce his usual composure at her question. "He doesn't have any brothers. Just a sister..."

"Oh. I saw a photograph recently of another young man who looked very much like Leaf, though his eyes were gray."

"Blue," Roy corrected her; he then flushed slightly at the admission. "Runan had blue eyes. He wasn't a relative of Leaf's, though- he came from Lieberia."

"What happened to him?"

"He had trouble with the centrifuge tests, so he could never become a full pilot. They sent him home after a few months."

"Were there any others like him?

"Yes." Eirika saw no guile in Roy's wide blue eyes, but there was something subtly wrong in them. Was it fear? Fear or what... or of whom? "There was another... Holmes. He developed some trouble with his neck, or his back... I think."

"And they both went home?"

"Yes."

"Where to?"

"Lieberia," Roy said, and the trace of wrongness in his eyes disappeared. "Neither of them were from the UFN."

"I see."

And yet, the Lieberian press did not acknowledge that their heroes had been sent back like a shipment of defective merchandise. So there was another layer to the mystery, beyond the altered photographs and the unspoken names of two pilot candidates. But it was, for the moment at least, far beyond Eirika's reach.

-x-

Eirika had a stretch of unscheduled time that afternoon, and she decided to spend some time with her own thoughts in one of Star City's many civic parks. She ended up in a semi-circular plaza at the heart of the city and settled down there on a bench set amidst an arc of cement columns. The curved lintel above the columns bore an inspirational message in great block capitals.

THE MOTHERLAND KNOWS WHERE HER SON SAILS

Around the plaza's perimeter were medallions commemorating each of the Programme's flown missions... and their pilots. Eirika found herself skipping over the Gemstone mission with hardly a glance, as her attention was drawn to the memorial to Major Sigurd Byronsen Baldos, known to his comrades as Pilot 004. Eirika was not one of those comrades; she had entered the Programme after his fiery demise during the reentry of his Astra mission, and so knew of Major Baldos only as he was depicted in the medallion- a handsome young man with an air of fierce confidence.

The senior pilots, those who had known Major Baldos, never mentioned him by name- when they mentioned him at all. It was always "Pilot 004," or "the Astra tragedy," or more often the unspoken thing that shadowed conversations. So Eirika still had very little idea of the departed pilot as a human being; she knew that he'd been a refugee from Jugdral, that he'd left behind a widow and a young son, that he- like Hector- had been renowned for his piloting skills even before joining the Programme. And that was it.

And now, with the faces of the missing pilot candidates fresh in her mind, Eirika had to wonder what else there was in the Programme's history that had been carefully covered up. She had, up to that point, never questioned the practice of keeping pilot identities secret until they'd made their first spaceflight. It never once had occurred to her that the secrecy might be used as a means of concealing... mistakes. But those altered photographs, the subtle but definite fear in Roy's eyes... had the two pilot candidates from Lieberia met their ends in a less stunning, less public way than Pilots 004 and 010? What exactly had happened in between that sunny day in Bethroen and Eirika's arrival into the piloting corps?

She was mulling this over when she noticed a familiar figure coming down the street, headed in her direction. Marth, it seemed, had also decided a free afternoon was too precious to waste indoors. Eirika followed his progress as he entered the plaza, and as he approached she offered him a seat beside her on the bench. He took it, sitting so close that she noticed a fresh soap-smell of pine and cedar.

The sat in companionable silence for a time; it seemed about fifteen minutes had passed when Eirika initiated talk with a question.

"What made you decide to become a pilot?"

"The Lopts overran my country when I was fourteen. My parents both were killed, my sister captured and sent to the camps."

"Ah... I'm sorry. I know we've been very fortunate in Magvel, not to suffer as so many other continents have suffered."

"I was attending school here in Magvel, at the Air Force Academy," he continued, as though he hadn't heard her. "I didn't think at all about being a test pilot. I had a friend at the Academy of Sciences, and I asked to transfer there so I could one day enter the nuclear program. All I could think of was obliterating the Lopt nations, blasting them from existence the way they'd annihilated Altea."

He paused again, and this time Eirika waited out the brief silence.

"The academy superintendent refused to let me transfer, but he said that if I really wanted to do something meaningful that might help my country, there was a special program I could enter... if I could pass the tests."

"What sort of tests?"

"I think you're familiar with them. The hot room, the cold room, the sensory deprivation room, the centrifuge..."

Eirika remembered. She remembered reciting nonsensical fragments of nursery rhyme to herself in the darkness of the sensory-deprivation chamber, remembered how badly she wanted to take off her boots as the temperatures rose in the heat chamber.

"And you were fourteen?" Subjecting a child to those tests seemed...wrong. The word inhumane was what came to mind, really. Eirika had gone through them herself, of course, but she was already a qualified pilot, not a cadet.

"There were no other students from the Eastern Islands in my year, and my family was gone, so it wasn't as though I had anything better to do." Eirika thought she heard, for the first time, a trace of bitterness in his voice. There was a trace of something there, at any rate. "I did get credit for participation, so I was able to graduate from the academy early- right into the pilot corps. A year later..."

And they both contemplated the medallion celebrating the Starlight mission. Eirika's eyes drifted upward after a moment. The very words above them had become part of history when the young man sitting next to her had spoken them, a last transmission before Starlight's signal dissolved into the dead air of re-entry. None knew then if the tiny capsule and its human cargo would even survive re-entry; for every two dogs launched and returned safely, one dog died.

"Do you still want revenge on them?"

"I- I don't..." For a moment, Eirika thought that he was going to say "yes," but then he fell back on the kind of answer suitable for the Commission. "I want to do what I can to see this Programme through to success."

-x-

They went together back to the dormitory, which was just as well, as General Selena wanted to speak to them both about the new event added to the schedule. They would be mandatory guests at the joining of Major Eliwood Laise to Captain Lyn Hassar-kizi,and it was the desire of the Programme that Marth escort Eirika to the function. This was phrased as any other order and was dutifully acknowledged as such by Pilots 001 and 012.

That evening, Eirika learned from her brother that he was expected to escort Micaiah to the same function. It worked out neatly, she thought, though she wondered what women Ike and Roy might be taking along to the wedding.

There had not been the faintest hint, prior to Selena's announcement, that any wedding was upcoming for Eliwood and Lyn. Eirika wondered if there were more of these convenient events awaiting them in the near future.

The marriage of Alm and Cellica had been celebrated in the capital, with the Premier himself in attendance. The Magvel Union and the Republic of Elibe each sent a representative to this latest marriage for the pilot corps, but it was a decidedly low-key affair, held in Star City's only hotel rather than the splendor of Ivaldi Court. Eirika understood that this apparent decrease in Premier Sephiran's interest in his pilots was an ill omen, but she couldn't even guess as to what precisely it portended for them.

But Eliwood and Lyn both looked handsome in their wedding crowns, and they both seemed happy enough that Eirika sincerely offered up her best wishes to them. There were enough guests, even at this "intimate" wedding, that Eirika did not feel too much attention was upon her- even when she danced a few numbers with Marth. He was a decent dancer, she thought as she breathed in the scent of cedar soap. He didn't have Hector's exuberance on the dance floor, but at least Marth didn't step on her feet the way Ike once had.

"We can leave now, if you'd like," he whispered to her after the third dance.

"We don't need to rush, Marth. I'm enjoying myself."

"We could have some drinks at my apartment." He asked it in the same tone he used when suggesting another run-through in the lunar lander simulator; the Hero of Space showed a striking lack of finesse when it came to handling women as women and not as pilots, engineers, or politicians.

"All right."

Three icons graced the wall of his apartment, the first thing anyone might see upon entering. This non-conformist gesture surprised Eirika. The Old Rites weren't expressly banned, but they certainly weren't encouraged; in Magvel the state had a tendency to "accidentally" demolish temples and re-use the granite and marble in train stations. More than that, Eirika remembered, or thought she remembered, a particularly vivid quote concerning whether or not the heavens were filled with "squabbling gods," the answer being an emphatic no.

"I never said those things," Marth said, almost as though he'd guessed the her thoughts. "I never even thought them. Other people put those words down with my name attached."

"I see."

"I do know how this works," he said, and Eirika heard again that bitter edge to his words. "If the state wants to convince people of something, anything, they put me before the microphones and have me say it. Or they just put it out on the wires and claim that I said it."

It was true, so patently true that Eirika could not give any protest.

"I never said this, either," Marth added.

He handed her a magazine, a glossy publication aimed at young wives and mothers, the sort of thing that Eirika rarely glanced at, much less picked up. The primary feature was a gushing interview with the Hero of Space, one that focused not on piloting or science but on the details of his personal life. The usual unrevealing details, Eirika thought as she looked over a quote in which Lieutenant Colonel Anriou described his ideal life companion- honest, dedicated, concerned with social justice and high moral standards.

"There are some girls like this in our piloting program," the sentence concluded.

"I never said this," Marth repeated, and struck the page in question with the backs of his fingers. "But there it is, and here we both are."

"Ah."

Eirika waited, expecting that he might have something more to say about it. He did not, and he left the magazine open on the side table while he fixed them both something to drink. Eirika accepted the glass of chilled vodka laced with honey and orange peel. Orange again, she thought. Perhaps it was something he liked.

She did not dally long in his apartment- only so that the eyes watching her might report back that Pilot 012 had time enough in the company of Pilot 001 to share a few drinks, but no more.

-x-

When the red light flashed again on her phone, Eirika hesitated. What bad news did the call bring this time? Did it concern her brother, her crewmates, the fate of the Peace mission itself? Had the Lopts won the race to the moon? Eirika shook off the moment of doubt and chided herself; the red light brought bad news, good news, and news that was neither good nor bad but merely of high import.

All pilots report to the Head Office.

All pilots? This news must be of high import, then, Eirika thought.

Generals Duessel and Mycen both awaited them with the impassive faces of men with nothing good to convey. Mycen broke the news, and the old soldier of Valencia did not sound entirely dispassionate this time.

"Premier Sephiran has resigned for the good of the nations, effective immediately. President Hardin of the Eastern Islands has accepted the duties of Premier, and we can trust on his patriotism and sound judgement to guide us henceforth."

In the brief silence that followed this incredible statement, Eirika fought the urge to look at the faces of her fellow pilots and see their reactions.

"Our mission objectives remain unchanged," said Duessel, and there was the slightest decrease of tension in the room then. The race to Luna would continue; they were not to be swept aside with Sephiran's regime. Yet the pilots did not move, nor did they respond to the generals, until one among them seized the moment.

"In the name of the peoples of the Free Nations, we will fulfill the mission given to us."

It was the first time in Eirika's recollection that Pilot 001 had spoken for them as their leader.

To Be Continued...

Author's note:

So, we have a surprising marriage, a lukewarm made-to-order romance, and a sudden change at the top of the government. Not to mention the shenanigans with the altered pictures. What next?

Those in the know about the Soviet Space program may be going "aha!" about some details here, ranging from the "missing" pilot candidates to the manufactured quotes. Full notes to be posted on my LJ... eventually.