Chapter Fifty-Nine: A Light at Sea

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Spring Sea, Off the Coast of Usea.
October 29th, 2019.
0630hrs.

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Avril leaned her back against the ship's railing, fighting off a yawn. The ship was cramped and what little space there was wasn't the most comfortable. She ended up dozing off here and there, sitting upright on the deck and leaning against whatever support she'd been able to find. It was better than whatever sorry excuse for a bed they'd had. Although the weather was milder back on land, it was chillier out on the water, and she was lucky she had the jacket part of her fatigues to wear or else she'd have been SOL.

It was early in the morning, but the sky was only just starting to turn from black to a deep, dark blue. They were making good time, from the look of things, and before long they'd be on solid ground. After that the challenge was just finding their supposed allies and not getting anyone killed. Seemed easy enough. But the closer they got to Selatapura, the more uneasy everyone became. No one was enjoying the perfectly quiet morning on the water. In their defense, it wasn't exactly easy.

More and more people started to stir, if anyone had managed to rest at all, and Avril watched as some of their ragtag group emerged from below decks. Usually anyone that hadn't spent the night on the deck just came up to check on things and immediately duck back inside. Not everyone, though.

Georg sat on the ground with his back to the exterior of the bridge, having spent hours staring down at the stuffed animal that his three-year-old, Fiona, had given him before he left. Trigger's father paced the length of the deck up and down, apparently restless, while the journalist that Avril had barely even remembered was up near the ship's bow. She knew of him, and she remembered seeing him before, but aside from him being friends with Kathryn and Mage and Golem and at the very least friendly acquaintances with Trigger and the LRSSG she wasn't all that buddy-buddy with him. What she did know was he'd been the guy behind a good chunk of the articles written back during the last war. He hadn't bothered them much, though. Bandog and Sarge kept the guy company, talking about something or the other.

The Princess had gone almost completely unnoticed by Avril, though, having sat herself down on a bench not far from where Avril was standing. She stayed quiet, though, keeping her head down and her hands in her lap. Standing several feet away from either Avril or the Princess, staring out at the water, Henri was leaning over the railing. He hardly looked like any kind of formal bodyguard anymore, much like how the Princess didn't even look like regular royalty anymore.

The only other one that was usually by her side, her dog, Leo, was missing from the trip. She didn't really have a good excuse for bringing a pet out to a war zone, and from the exchange Avril had witnessed at the port while she and Georg both said their goodbyes to Tabloid, she left the dog in the care of Georg's family. The girls loved the dog, most of the refugees did, and this way he'd be out of harm's way and more importantly out of the way of any of the soldiers. If he was an MWD like Sarge then it wouldn't be an issue, but as obedient as he seemed he lacked any kind of training.

Avril hoped everyone back at Tyler Island was going to be alright. Things had been quiet, but the last thing they needed was an attack coming out of nowhere before they had a chance to make their move. Assuming this whole thing wasn't a trap. Avril was trying to stay optimistic, though, for everyone else's sake. Given the mood over the last few days, she didn't want to make things worse and add to everyone's worries, so she'd just kept her mouth shut. She trusted Trigger and Tabloid and the others to do whatever they needed to.

As soon as she thought about Tabloid, she suddenly felt guilty. Today was his actual birthday. She wished she could have done something more for him, but he'd seemed content with the early party so she tried not to linger on it. She could make up for it next year, assuming any of these people still wanted her around…or if she even wanted to be around.

She caught her mind wandering and immediately trampled the thought. I don't worry about things like this, she mentally cursed herself. What the hell?

Trying to find something to get her mind from wandering, not wanting to focus on anything in the future at all (their upcoming meeting included), Avril ended up taking notice of Foulke during his pacing. She didn't know what to call him. She knew who he was, sure, but she also knew him as someone as ordinary and normal as 'Trigger's father'. He was unusual, that was for sure. Intimidating while also somehow making himself approachable. Nothing like what you'd expect from a supposed madman and extremist, but if there was one thing Avril was starting to learn it was that people changed.

He stopped pacing the length of the deck, sticking now to pacing a small path a few feet from Georg. He took notice of the stuffed bear Georg was holding, and paused in his pacing as soon as he did. Avril didn't have to strain too much to listen in as he asked Georg, "A parting gift from your family, right?"

Georg looked up for what had to have been the first time that night, blinking a bit. "Uh, yeah. My youngest daughter's stuffed animal," he said, looking down again and letting out a breathy, sheepish laugh. "She's got a million of these things back home, but this one's always been her favorite. I think it's the one we got her the day she was born, but…my memory's kind of shot lately. Anyway, she never goes anywhere without it."

"You must mean a lot to her if she's willing to part with it, even for a little bit," Foulke said, cracking a small smile. "My oldest had a stuffed animal like that. She'd practically tear the room apart trying to find it if it ever went missing, but she'd give it to me in a heartbeat. I think she thought it'd keep me safe."

"Ah…you're very fortunate," Georg said.

"She hates when I bring it up, though," Foulke said with a shrug. "I think she'd kill me if she knew I was telling you about it."

"I'd still say you're lucky. My oldest has always been more on the pragmatic side, even now. She took after me a lot," Georg told him, though he sounded as though he was fondly recalling a memory rather than upset. "I swear, she'd be a hell of a politician one day. Practical solution for everything…Fiona's the complete opposite. Very emotional, very intuitive."

"Eh, nothing really wrong with either. My oldest daughter managed to strike a balance between them," Foulke said, turning slightly to stare out at the sea. He sighed. "The others…not so much."

There was a pause, then Georg asked, "You have other children besides Three Strikes, right?"

Foulke didn't answer right away, looking down and blinking as though he hadn't expected the question. He played it cool though. "Yeah," he replied. "Two daughters and a son."

"I know that much," Georg admitted. Avril wondered for a moment how, then she remembered all the information about Trigger that ended up in enemy hands. There was no telling what they knew about any of them.

"Ah. Right, I'm…sure you do," Foulke said, suddenly seeming awkward. Maybe even uncomfortable. "So, if you know who my children are, then you know that I'm –"

"I know who you are, yes," Georg cut him off, though it seemed more to save him the trouble than to be cold or rude. "I imagine there are very few people that don't know who you are." He paused, glancing up at Foulke. "It must have been difficult to keep a low profile."

Foulke shrugged. "It wasn't, really. No one had any idea who I was before 2005," he said. "It got a little harder after that, but it wasn't the worst. We didn't isolate them, the older two were already well out of school, but we did handle the rest of Na– er…well, no, you know her actual name, don't you? Anyway, we handled the rest of Naomi's schooling on our own."

"You did a better job of leaving your past behind you than I did," Georg told him. "And you barely had to do anything. That's commendable."

Avril had to silently criticize that. It wasn't hidden well, not when it should have been, and it clearly hadn't been left behind if they couldn't stand the idea of Trigger confronting that. Foulke himself, however, seemed to realize that. At least he was self-aware. "No. I didn't, really," he said. "If I had left it behind then I never would have been so afraid of my daughter finding out. And I didn't really leave it behind because, truthfully, no one else in the world is going to leave it behind. People are superficial. My family is always going to be punished because of their heritage, there's no way to get around that."

"I suppose you're right," Georg admitted with a sigh. "I went so far as trying to erase our identity. Changed our name, gave our daughters unassuming names." His hold on the stuffed bear tightened, and Avril felt a pang of pity for him. "And that still wasn't enough."

The look that Foulke gave Georg wasn't one of pity. It was one of empathy. Pure guilt and understanding, almost as plain as day. If you blinked you would have missed it, though. In fact, Avril almost did thanks to the distance and dull lighting, but she'd been paying close attention. He straightened, shoving his hands into the pockets of the faded jacket he was wearing. "We all go to different extremes, doing what we think is best," he answered after an almost uncomfortable pause, though he sounded unfazed. "Half the time it never really works. I should know. Hell, if I had my way something as stupid and insignificant as the place you were born or your family line wouldn't matter. It shouldn't mean anything, but people are always gonna look for a divide."

Georg stifled what Avril could only imagine might have been a scoff or a huff of some kind, then lifted his head. He didn't look or sound angry or bitter or mocking when he spoke, though. "You did everything you did for your family, then?"

Foulke shrugged. "I wanted a better future for them. But, I realize now that…what I would have done wasn't going to change anything." He took a deep breath. "It was an act of desperation."

"How do you reconcile all of that?" Georg asked him. He swallowed. "Everything that I did…advancing Erusea's technology, serving their air force, agreeing to work with Gründer researchers…I just wanted to provide for my family and keep them safe," he explained quickly. "I'm…I'm the one that put them in harm's way. I want to do better, I'm going to do better to make it up to them, but I don't know how to do it without feeling sorry for myself. Do you understand?"

"If you're fortunate to have a forgiving family, and it seems that you do, then it will be a lot easier not to hate yourself. I came crawling back after…" Foulke trailed off, evidently trying to find the right words. He looked down, letting out a scoff, then he tilted his head towards the sky. "After abandoning them and pretty much nearly ending the world. Had another kid the year after that, so I guess I saved my marriage alright…er…well, after my wife slapped the shit out of me for having the audacity to not be dead."

Foulke was smiling, apparently not looking back bitterly on the memory or thinking poorly of his wife. Georg managed to give a small smile, while Avril fought off one of her own. Normally something like that wouldn't have been amusing to her, but knowing the context she did she couldn't really blame the woman. If an ex-terrorist war criminal tried to return to her life after something like that, she'd probably slap them, too. Actually, she might have had a harsher reaction. In any case, it was becoming more obvious that Trigger was a good blend of her parents. They seemed…alright. But she found herself feeling a bit of an ache in her throat listening to Foulke talk.

Georg didn't seem too bothered, his smile fading a bit as he almost hesitantly asked, "And what about your children? The older two?"

"It took a lot of time," Foulke said, his own smile disappearing. That was something that he did look back on bitterly, apparently. He lowered his voice a bit. "I think my son joined the military just to get away from me."

"I'm sure that's not true."

"Considering it was an air force practically on the opposite end of the world, I think it's safe to say it is," Foulke said, blowing out a breath. He put a stupid smile back on. He reminded her of a weird blend of Trigger and Tabloid. "But some good came of it. He's done a lot for other people, and I'm proud of him. And hey, he was ready to talk to me once all of that was done…he calls and visits whenever he can, which is something everyone hopes for when their kids leave, right?"

"So he forgave you, even if it took some time," Georg said, more making an observation or a statement than asking a question.

"Yup. And your kids are still talking to you and your wife seems like a kind person," Foulke said, the smile on his face a reassuring one. "Whatever you did, what matters is you're going to do better and you're still there for them. They don't have to give a shit about that, that obligation ended as soon as we royally screwed up, but the fact that they do still give a shit…that's a pretty good sign."

"I hated leaving like this, but…I hope they understand that I'm trying to atone," Georg said, his smile a little less forced and more just…sad.

"I'm sure they understand. If not now, then someday," Foulke told him. "Like you said, even if it takes some time."

Georg looked like he wanted to say something more, straightening up and opening his mouth, but whatever it was he seemed to think better of it. He closed his mouth and exhaled through his nose, giving him a smile. "I hope that you're right," he said. "Thank you for taking the time to talk to me, sir."

"Eh, just call me Larry," Foulke said with a shrug. "It's Georg, right?"

"Yes, that's right," he said. "Thank you again."

"It's not a problem. I'm happy to help. Just let me know if you need anything else," Foulke said and Georg gave him a nod and a grateful smile. He saw a chance to take an exit from the conversation and he seized it, looking in Avril's direction. But he was looking at the first hints of the sunrise behind her, not at her. He glanced back down at Georg. "Well, I think I'm gonna head down and check on our ETA. Guess I'll see you around. Take care, yeah?"

Georg nodded, barely looking like he said anything in response, and Avril watched as Foulke turned and began to walk towards the door. It was almost right across from Avril, and he'd be passing by her to get there. She wasn't sure why, but she had the thought to say something to him. She hadn't really talked to him that much, and then she sat there and eavesdropped on their conversation, but even though she hardly knew him…she had a pretty good insight on the kind of person he was now.

Maybe it was because she was nosy, but as soon as he reached the door Avril spoke before she could stop herself. "Hey," she blurted out the first opener that came to mind. He paused, turning to look at her with a surprised and curious look on his face. Avril swallowed any hesitation. "I couldn't help but overhear you and Georg just now."

She wasn't sure how she expected him to react, but he didn't seem to care at all. At least he looked like he didn't care. "You did, huh?"

"Yeah. For what it's worth, it seems like Trigger really loves you, so…I hope you don't think you're a bad dad or something," Avril said, saying the first thing that came to mind. She wasn't really sure where it was coming from, really. "Not sure about the other two, but it doesn't sound like it's all bad with them."

Foulke gave a short, maybe unsure chuckle. "I guess I should say thanks, then."

"There's…one other thing I wanted to say. Or ask you, actually," Avril said, hoping she didn't sound too nervous. The truth was that she'd spent so much of her life angry and she was getting tired of it. But in order to change things she had to look at things from a different perspective. "It's about something you and Georg said."

"Shoot."

Avril took a deep breath. "Did…you both mean what you said?" she asked him before she could chicken out. "About...well, kind of abandoning your families because you wanted to make things better for them? Or that you did everything you did for them?"

Foulke looked like he was considering not answering. And this was just confirmed when he instead said, "I'm not trying to pry but is this about something?"

"If you don't wanna answer that's fine, it's not important," Avril said with a shrug and a shake of her head, trying to play it off. She hoped she didn't seem embarrassed.

"No, I'm sorry. Like I said, I wasn't trying to pry," Foulke said, suddenly sympathetic. He paused for a moment, and Avril watched him out of the corner of her eye. When he spoke, there wasn't any hint of hesitancy in his voice. "I did mean it, though. I get it's a pretty flawed plan, but I just wanted a future for my family. I was willing to do anything for that, misguided as it may have been. In the end, I couldn't really change the world for them. I don't know if I'd do things the same way, but the whole time I was doing what I thought was best for them, leaving or not," he said. "And I hate leaving them. But I think they know that, whether I come back or not, I'm doing it for them."

"Right," Avril said. She remembered her father out of nowhere and that aching feeling made a lot more sense. That and her curiosity. She kind of already knew that, but it was weird to have a few scattered, fuzzy memories hit her out of nowhere. She was good at keeping a poker face if nothing else, something she was grateful for. "Gotcha. Sorry to bother you."

"Not a bother. Sorry if it's not what you wanted to hear," Foulke said. Avril didn't give him much of a response, just a bit of a nod, and with nothing else to say he continued on his way. She wondered if he could figure out why she asked, but she didn't really care if he did or not. It wasn't really important.

She watched him leave, then heaved a sigh and turned around to lean forward on the railing, hoping to take in the sunrise. On the horizon there was a faint light, and there were hints of dark pinks and oranges just above the water. Hardly a proper sunrise, but it was a pretty view. It helped her take her mind off of things, though not completely. She kept turning over Foulke's words in her head, trying to focus on the sound of the ocean instead, but it wasn't easy to do. She had been hoping for an honest answer, but once she got it she didn't know if it made her feel any better or not.

Although she wasn't very young when her father died, she hated that all she could really remember was being mad at him all the time for leaving. Sure, there was the typical 'he loved you' and 'he was your father' and 'he did everything for you' but…she was mad. It didn't feel like someone leaving her and then up and dying and not coming back was something that was done for her. But she knew that everything he did, up to his death, was in the service of other people. He joined up to make his father proud and keep up the tradition. And he spent every waking moment that he could trying to provide for her. And she was furious with him. But seeing how much people like Foulke and Georg cared for their families, she couldn't help but think about it.

Sitting there on that boat she realized she was doing the exact same thing her dad was doing. Risking her life just to cover someone else's butt. Worst part was she wouldn't want to be doing anything else. Between servicing everyone's aircraft almost every waking minute to going on this operation, she realized she had a real soft spot for the people around her. Not the first time, that's for sure. Apparently her father rubbed off on her and she didn't even realize it.

From behind her, nearly startling her, the Princess' voice sounded. It was so faint it was barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of the engine. "Did you lose someone that was close to you?"

"Huh?" Avril looked over her shoulder, surprised by the question. And the fact the Princess was talking. She'd been so quiet the whole trip. Avril almost thought she'd fallen asleep sitting up or just completely zoned about, but clearly she'd been listening in. Not exactly a topic she wanted to stay on, though. "What makes you ask something like that?"

"The question that you asked Major Foulke's father," the Princess told her, still not lifting her head. "It just seemed like a reasonable conclusion."

"Because I asked the guy if he really almost nuked the world for his kids?" Avril asked, oversimplifying the situation but not really caring. She didn't have it in her to be snappy, though. She wasn't sure she wanted a conversation like that on no sleep. "If you could figure that out, that's one neat talent."

"It's not that. It's just…you seemed to understand what I was going through when we talked on Tyler Island," the Princess replied. "I understand if it's not something you want to talk about, though. I was just curious."

"It's not something I want to talk about, but you're not that off," Avril replied. She'd lost three parental figures in her lifetime, and it sucked. She could barely remember her mom, and her dad and grandfather were people she shoved out of her mind as often as she could. It wasn't something she had to constantly beat herself up about or something she wanted people to feel sorry for her about. It just…was. Still, not wanting to talk about her own problems and feeling bad for the Princess, she sighed and said, "If it helps any, it's gonna get a bit easier to live with that kind of stuff."

"I'm worried that it won't," the Princess said. Beside her, Henri was looking at her while she spoke, but he said nothing. Either he didn't think it was his place or he didn't know what to say. She still didn't lift her head. "I don't know how it's supposed to get easier when I don't even know if they'd be angry with me for the choices I've made."

"Of course it's not gonna get easier right away, you've barely had time to process it. Give it time, once this war is over," Avril said, trying to crack a smile in hopes of easing the tension. No reaction. She guessed it probably wasn't the best, but she could at least say she tried. "Look, I wonder the same thing. But remember what I said, about how if they cared they wouldn't want you to be upset or worry about things like that?"

The Princess nodded.

"Well, I think…a lot like Trigger's dad and Georg…they probably were making decisions that they thought were best for their country but also for you," Avril said, not exactly good at the touchy feely part. She wasn't sure she was coming off the right way, but she was still going to finish what she was saying. "You're their daughter, they were your parents. And after that speech you gave yesterday with Trigger I don't think they'd be angry with you. You're on a pretty good track, I'd say."

"You think so?" She lifted her head slightly to look up, but only briefly.

"I do. I mean, just look how close we are to ending this war?" Avril said. It was hard to tell, but judging from the faint smile that appeared on Henri's face she guessed that the Princess didn't take it too badly. But just as quickly as that lighter mood had come it was gone.

It was quiet for a moment, but the Princess managed to say, "Thank you."

After that, Avril couldn't think of anything else to say. There wasn't much that she could say. Nothing was gonna bring the Princess' parents back, and everyone dealt with their grief in different ways. Avril offered what comforting words she could. Thoughts that would make her feel better whenever she thought about her own loss. At least it wasn't a total waste. In fact, she was starting to think she was getting better at touchy-feely conversation, but then again it was possible she just wasn't clever enough to notice she was making things worse. But the fact people still talked to her told her she wasn't that hopeless.

Avril turned her head away from the Princess, looking back out at the ocean. There was a thin layer of fog that she noticed as it started to get lighter, though not enough to severely reduce visibility. They had been lucky to avoid any trouble on their way, but not because they were well hidden or anything. It was more likely that any hostile Erusean forces were either already waiting for them or too scared to make a move, so their travel had been uneventful. Frankly, though, that was what worried Avril so much. It'd be some miracle if they didn't have anything to worry about.

The vague shape of a giant structure in the distance caught her eye. She could barely make it out through the limited light if not for the faint lights along the base and along the windbreak, but there was no mistaking what it was. She'd seen the pictures enough that they were burned in her memory. The space elevator. It was more impressive than the photos always on the news, but she imagined that once they got even closer it was probably enough to take your breath away. She didn't have much of an opinion on the thing, not enough to justify a war over it either way, but it was a pretty crazy thing to think about it.

"Hey, take a look at that…looks like we're almost there," Avril said to whoever would listen. She didn't hear either of them shift and she didn't take her eyes off the space elevator to see if they were looking. "We're headed for a single rope reaching up into the sky." she said with a small smile at the thought, finally looking back at the Princess and Henri. Her question was for the former, though. "Did you ever stop to think about how far the end of that rope reaches?"

Henri was staring at the space elevator now, but the Princess hardly reacted. She didn't even flinch. For several moments she was quiet, until she finally answered. It was a simple, practical answer. "Outer space."

"No. You're thinking about it too literally," Avril said, turning slowly to look at the elevator again. She recalled what she'd heard others call the elevator, but she never really thought about it herself until now. "It reaches up to space, yeah, and if that alone wasn't amazing enough…what it really is – or what it should be – is a direct connection to the very potential of mankind itself." Out through the fog, on the water, was a perfect reminder of exactly what they were up against. A lone aircraft carrier, floating on the water, probably long abandoned from the look of things. There was probably a story there, but that wasn't her concern. She sighed. "At least, it was before war erupted. But what do I know?"

The Princess was quiet again, but only for a few minutes. Then she took a deep breath and broke the silence. "Lately, it's become my strong belief that…that rope might be connected to a very distant, faraway source of…great conflict and strife," she said, almost hesitantly. "At least, that was what I believed before now. Even long before the war, it was like the whole world started falling apart once Harling began building it."

The sound of a pair of heavy footsteps and the pattering of paws on the deck came to an abrupt halt not far behind Avril, and a new voice brought both Avril and the Princess' attention to the source. Bandog stood there, Genette beside him, a blank expression on his face as he spoke. "Erusea not being able to control smaller countries economically isn't 'the whole world falling apart', you know," he said. He hadn't been very confrontational with the Princess, if he regarded her at all, but the comment didn't seem to sit well with him.

"I beg your pardon?" It was Henri that came to her defense, the Princess looking more startled by him than upset by his comment.

"Look at Selatapura. They are independent, have been for decades, and the Erusean government hasn't left them alone in all that time," Bandog said. Avril realized very quickly he was a lot more well informed than she thought, at least in regards to this. "And the second they and other Usean countries sign off for the space elevator, something that would benefit the whole continent, you occupy them and act as if you have a claim to their land. A threat on "our soil" and a violation of "our sovereignty"," he scoffed. "The only violation of anyone's sovereignty is the way your government treats Selatapura and its citizens."

"Look, I don't know what's got you so bent but –" Henri started, but Bandog threw up his hands.

"I'm not picking a fight with you, relax. I'm just trying to get you to think outside your own bubble for a change," he said, his tone returning to something close to…peaceful. If that was possible for a man like him. "Face it, you two. You can bend over backwards trying to cover your own asses, but at the end of the day this war was pointless and you know it. If anyone has a right to fight and be angry, it's everyone else that's been dragged into this bullshit. And I'm not talking about the soldiers."

"I know how it looks…you have to understand, I truly believed I was doing what was good for everyone involved. Whether that was true or not, I don't know anymore," the Princess said, keeping very calm. She was diplomatic, not defensive. It was enough to disarm even Bandog. She turned away from him, fixing her eyes straight ahead. "From Erusea's perspective, or at least from my father and our government's perspective, it looked as though we were being exploited. I don't know what Harling's intentions were. I can't speak for him." She sighed. "But I know that…however it may look to everyone on the outside, to us our concerns were being discarded. It's not what anyone wanted, but it seemed like it was the only way to make ourselves heard."

"Well, whatever your reasoning may be, it doesn't make it right," Bandog said.

For a minute they were all quiet, in an almost awkward way, but then Genette cleared his throat and took a step forward. He didn't sound at all nervous when he spoke up. "I don't know if I have any kind of right to tell you this or if it's even my place, but that isn't at all what Harling intended," he said, and he sounded confident. "He would have never exploited anyone for any reason, and it wasn't an attempt at a takeover. The space elevator was meant to benefit everyone, in a hundred different ways, and…this war aside, it still has a sound purpose."

"Erusea just wasn't interested when they realized the rest of the world was going to move forward, with or without them," Bandog added, mostly to himself to get the jab in than because he wanted them to respond.

"How can you be so sure of that?" the Princess asked him, glancing over her shoulder.

"I spent a considerable amount of time working with him. I was…something of an insider, solely because he trusted me. Just like he trusted…some other people I know," Genette explained quickly. He seemed to be picking his words carefully, trying to avoid certain details it seemed. "The purpose of the space elevator…believe me, it was never meant to be the cause of this war. Quite the opposite."

"You knew him well, then? You were friends?" the Princess asked. She looked to him solely to see his response, and when he gave a slight nod she turned away, taking a deep breath. "Then…I have a question that's been on my mind since the day he died. I've wondered what was going through his mind when he was destroying the very thing that so much was sacrificed in order to create."

"Sacrificed?" Avril blinked, looking over at her.

"Wait, what?" Genette sounded surprised as soon as he processed what had been said. Even Bandog looked shocked. "What do you mean?"

"Well, did you see all of those old space shuttles on Tyler Island that are no longer in use?" the Princess asked, still not lifting her head.

"Yeah, I did. I remember we walked past some of them," Avril said, glancing at Bandog. He nodded to confirm that. "Huh. I mean, I kinda figured they'd be a good source of scrap, but…I guess these days they aren't really serving much of a purpose."

"They were once the only way to reach the stars, but Harling had an ambitious plan. They put all their hopes and trust in the space elevator, and most programs and launches involving those shuttles may have well come to a complete halt," the Princess explained quickly. "There was so much at stake, so much sacrificed…"

"So if it was destroyed, then…it'd be that much harder for us to reach the stars," Avril filled in the blanks on her own, looking back out to the structure in the distance. "At least until we get those shuttles up and running or find another way."

"Even then, knowing this, Harling still went ahead and tried to destroy it…at the cost of his own life. So, that's my question," the Princess said. "If he believed truly in his vision, why would he try and…and rectify something of that scale as his final act on this earth."

"He wouldn't." Genette's answer was instantaneous, and there wasn't a shred of doubt that Avril could pick up on. He kept his cool, but she noticed his fist tightened around the strap of his camera bag. He was tense, but he didn't sound like it. "I don't know how to make you understand without betraying so many people's trust, and you don't even have to believe me, but there's no way he would have ever destroyed that. He wouldn't have abandoned hope or just thrown away people's lives when the stakes were that high."

"And anyway, that's not the way I heard it," Avril said, looking back at the Princess. She saw the girl straighten and her shoulders tense, but her expression didn't change. Avril looked away. "A couple of people on the news, back when it first broke out. Before we knew that Trigger had been accused of killing him, when they were keeping the story and her trial from the press…they were framing it as some kind of noble sacrifice on his part."

"Yeah, I remember that one," Bandog said. He took a few steps forward to join her in looking out over the railing, keeping his eyes on the horizon, while Sarge shifted and moved in step with him. He kept his arms crossed. "They said in all the chaos he managed to fly that thing into a missile aimed at the space elevator. I think they're still saying that, even after they publicly said Trigger was the one that fired it."

"Oh. In Erusea we were told that he tried to fly the aircraft into the tower in order to destroy it, and then was killed by Osean fighters," the Princess said. She went quiet suddenly, and when Avril looked back she had looked over to where Georg said. "But…I guess neither of those stories could really be true, now that I think about it."

"They still could, actually," Henri said, getting their attention. "We know who killed him and why, but…I don't know if anyone but Harling could tell us why he turned back instead of retreating."

"Guess you make a pretty good point," Avril observed. She heard the Princess get to her feet, and she shifted slightly even though there was plenty of space. "I wonder which story is true then, Your Highness."

The Princess approached her, stopping beside her. She finally was looking up, out at the sunrise and the space elevator, both becoming brighter and clearer as the minutes passed them by. Now there was only a sliver of dark blue, while the pinks and oranges framed the elevator. The Princess was still and quiet, then she spoke again. "Looking at it objectively, I suppose it's reasonable to believe that Harling would have had both options before him."

Genette sounded like he was speaking through a faint smile. "No matter how you think it looks, I guess he'd still be a hero either way," he said. "Fitting. He always should have been a hero."

"Kind of says a lot about you either way," Bandog commented with a sigh, never exactly what Avril would have considered the philosophical type. But the space elevator gave everyone a lot to think about.

"Yeah, y'know, I think you're right," Avril said, reaching over and lightly smacking at his forearm with the back of her hand, mostly trying to get him to loosen up a bit. She kept a serious tone, though. "It's kinda like a mirror."

"Yes, it is. Like a mirror looking into your own soul, based on whichever choice you think it was," the Princess agreed with a nod, and a faint, sad smile that vanished in an instant. She closed her eyes and lowered her head. "At the moment, though, it's…like I can only see darkness. I just don't know what to think or feel about it…or anything."

Henri's voice was sympathetic, and he too joined them at the railing, grunting somewhat with the effort of standing up. He seemed to have healed up alright, though, he just seemed a bit sore. He leaned forward on the railing. "It's going to take time to sort the deeper questions out, Your Highness. Right now, just take it little by little, until all of this is finished. We'll all be able to think better then."

The Princess tugged at the loose sleeve of the jacket she was wearing, and out of the corner of her eye Avril could see that she was examining the Osean patch on her shoulder. Her fingers tightened around the fabric, pulling the flag nearer to her view. Then she let it go, keeping her head down and letting her arms fall slack at her side. "After seeing the Osean side of things…I don't hate Harling. He sounded like a good leader. Like the kind of leader I wanted to be, but…" she paused, hesitating. "I think…I think that maybe that thing should be destroyed, if that's what it's going to take to end this war."

Everyone went quiet. No one knew what to say or what to think, not even Henri from the looks of it. They were all looking at her, she was probably well aware of it, but she made no indication. Avril looked back to the elevator in the distance with a sigh, conflicted over her own thoughts on the subject. They were trying to reclaim it, but if they failed it was hard to see any other option. At this point everyone just wanted this all to be over, but she knew they'd all try and find some other way if they could.

Before anyone could start troubleshooting or jumping on the Princess, Georg caught their attention as they all turned to find him standing up, looking in the opposite direction where the sky wasn't quite as colorful just yet. "Hey, everyone. Look."

In the distance, through the fog, there was the distinct outline of land and a myriad of colorful city lights shining out in the darkness, reflecting on the water along the edges. For a city, in spite of the lights, it looked quiet. But either way, they'd finally arrived.

Selatapura, Usea.
1600hrs.

Schroeder had run out of time.

He knew he'd only be able to stall for so long, but he'd hoped he would have had a little bit more time. That was not the case. And he wasn't sure who he had to blame for that. Osea and the Eruseans that had opposed the drones – alongside Selatapuran citizens that were fed up with Erusea's occupation – had formed a more formidable team than anyone could have predicted. The initial pushback had already spelled trouble for them, but now it was a full on disaster. Something had to give on their end and it had to do so as soon as possible. Anyone could see that.

General Parrish was already fraying from the stress of it all. Between his wrath and power and borderline insanity he was already a dangerous man, but he'd become something else entirely. His faction of soldiers had been pushed back to the support facility and the base of the space elevator itself, losing their foothold and control over the coastline. Luckily they had the MQ-99s and the standard drone fighters on their side, which meant that their opponent felt the same sting they did after every battle, and the remaining Arsenal Bird clearly put a hold on any air support. But their opponents were not stupid. They had learned from past mistakes and they made what corrections they could, which landed them a decent victory. Which didn't sit well with Parrish.

It was his own fault for underestimating his enemy. Although they weren't as bold without allied air support – notably, without Three Strikes – they were still capable. The only thing that could reliably destroy them and avoid what anti-air weaponry they brought along would be the Ravens, unless Schroeder did the very thing he'd been putting off for so long. The lesser drones would not be perfect copies of Mihaly like the ADF-11Fs were and they wouldn't have the same capacity for learning, but they would be a bit more capable. After all this time, although he tried to take a professional and pragmatic approach, Schroeder was having a hard time bringing himself to do it.

He might have made peace with what he wanted from an emotional standpoint, but the fact he kept up appearances and simply went along with things, only delaying what he insisted would be the inevitable, and didn't simply give into the emotional side of that meant that he wasn't actually at peace with his work. He had hoped that the war would take some time to pick back up and he could confront it when he was actually ready, but he was almost certain that wasn't a luxury he would be allowed.

Although he'd told the girls and Simon to steer clear of the soldiers present at the facility as much as possible now that tensions were so high, advising them to be especially careful to avoid the General and his unpredictable moods, Simon didn't actually heed that warning. He showed up late in the afternoon, a worried and almost guilty look on his face as he stepped into what they had set up as their main workspace, looking like he was on the verge of a panic attack. Schroeder lifted his head from the data report he'd been working on in an attempt to preserve his sanity and immediately noticed the look on his assistant's face.

"What's the matter?" Schroeder asked him, trying not to sound as concerned as he felt. The last thing he needed was for something to happen to any of the four of them. He didn't need their harm or deaths on his conscience when he already had enough of that weighing on him. And even outside of his own personal interests he didn't want them dead. He wasn't sure he'd been good at keeping control of his emotions as of late, but he managed a decent poker face in that moment if nothing else. "What happened?"

Simon hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the cracked door. He adjusted his glasses before he began nervously wringing his hands. "The soldiers here are getting restless. And irritable. I wouldn't have bothered with them, except that…" he hesitated, and Schroeder braced himself for the worst. "Well, I caught them poking around where they shouldn't have been. When I tried to tell them off, they wouldn't leave, and when I didn't back off the General got involved. He wants to see you. He told me to come and get you. Said if I didn't, he'd do it himself, and I didn't think that was going to end well, so…I did what he asked."

Schroeder had already gotten to his feet, his computer forgotten and the data chip in his pocket. He felt relieved that was the worst news Simon had for him. He hoped. "You and the girls are both okay, though, right?" he asked, just to make sure, trying not to be insensitive. Simon was an emotional person for someone in this field. He hadn't learned how to detach himself, and that meant he was ruffled easily. Or at least he showed these things more openly than he should. "None of you got hurt?"

"No, we're all fine," Simon said. He ran his hand over a few creases in his coat, sounding a bit embarrassed and annoyed as his anxiety began to ease off a bit. "They grabbed me, but that hurt my pride more than anything."

"As long as you're fine physically, that's enough," Schroeder told him. He swallowed, turning to lock and shut his laptop before he left. Not that it mattered much. He let out a tired sigh. "I guess I should make an appearance for General Parrish, then."

Simon was quiet suddenly, giving a slow nod. For a moment he looked as though he had something to say, and he started to ask whatever it was before he could stop himself. "Dr. Schroeder?"

"Something else?" Schroeder asked as he made sure his computer was dealt with, straightening up and hesitating when Simon had gotten his attention.

He was holding back, and it was written all over his face. He looked like he wanted a fight, or like he was expecting the worst to come out of whatever he had to say, but he brushed that off. He didn't ask what he actually wanted to, judging from the way he had tensed up and then forced himself to relax before he spoke. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Schroeder knew he wasn't asking about the obvious. The real question he wanted to ask was probably why Schroeder had been so adamant in putting things off until it got to this point. Why he completely lost interest in something he originally had a great interest in. Well, really, much of his passion for his work had died out long before he even got sent out to work with the EASA. But not wanting to get into that, knowing it didn't matter what he thought or felt at this point, Schroeder just shrugged and headed for the door as Simon stepped aside.

The only answer he had for him was, "Would it matter? There isn't any way to avoid it, good idea or not." He pulled the door open all the way. "Parrish is going to get what he wants one way or the other. Compliance is the only way none of us get hurt."

"That's not what –" Simon started, almost sounding frustrated as he spun around to follow Schroeder. Schroeder paused in the doorway and glanced over his shoulder, one brow raised. Once again, Simon thought better of himself. "Never mind. It isn't anything important."

There wasn't any reason for Schroeder to stay put. He thought about it for a moment, since he knew more or less what Simon wanted from him. But since Simon dismissed himself Schroedrer didn't see the point in pressing the topic. If there was something that he wanted to talk about then he would come to Schroeder, but clearly it wasn't a conversation he was ready for. Or maybe Schroeder had been too cool by brushing him off. Whatever the reason for him changing his mind, there were more important matters to be concerned with.

The walk through the facility, although one that Schroeder had made countless times, left him feeling anxious. The main observation room for the drones and their facility was where he was heading, and it was a simple enough walk. No more than five or so minutes at the most from where he had been. Even so, every step he took left his gut shouting at him to turn and run. Just grab Simon, find the girls, and take the data. But logically that would have caused more problems. Like it or not, they were outnumbered, and if he tried to escape or abandon his assignment at all there wasn't any doubt in his mind that he'd be shot on sight, along with anyone else with him. He didn't fancy being remembered as a coward, let alone one whose cowardice killed four kids.

He was vaguely aware of Simon following him not far behind, but he didn't try to keep pace with him. His hesitance showed more than Schroeder's, and Schroeder was the one about to confront an unstable military officer. One that had more than enough means and the lack of any morals needed to kill someone and not think twice about it. If he didn't handle this carefully, none of them were going to see another day, say nothing about what might happen if Parrish's faction won this war.

Schroeder thought about the chip in his pocket, wondering if it was worth dying for let alone worth killing for. He'd wondered that for some time. Ever since they took advantage of Mihaly's skill and willingness to fly, pushing him until he had one foot in the grave, and for what? Whatever they were making, it wasn't as noble as they intended, if it was ever meant to be anything more than a monster to begin with. Wipe out Three Strikes and then Osea as a whole, and then any country that might oppose Erusea. No one would ever know peace again. He wasn't sure why anyone would want that.

He forced himself out of his own head as he reached his destination, finding the door wide open and various soldiers trying to brute force their way through computer locks and file encryptions, something that was not serving them well. Schroeder furrowed his brow, trying to keep his cool as he stepped inside, glaring around the room at the Eruseans that were coming incredibly close to punching a hole through several pieces of highly expensive equipment. He cleared his throat, and Parrish turned around to face him. "Would anyone care to tell me what's going on here?"

"We're attempting to do your job for you, Doctor," Parrish replied. He looked on the verge of snapping, holding his hands in fists by his side. "If you would be so kind as to hand over the chip and guide us through this, then we can be on our way. Everyone wins."

"I'm not about to let you wreck months worth of work. This is a very delicate process," Schroeder replied calmly, trying to find any reason he could think of to get rid of them. He didn't like having someone like this breathing down his neck. He'd had enough of it. "You do something wrong and your precious project falls to pieces. Now kindly step away and give us the space we need to do our work."

Parrish didn't give Schroeder time to react. In the blink of an eye, fast enough to briefly stun him, Schroeder felt the General grab onto his collar and practically throw him against the glass paneling behind him. His back hit the glass, the glass itself sturdy enough that it didn't break and send him into a bunch of computers and circuits. Not that he would have been harmed by any of them, but glass shards and broken computers would have made for an even more uncomfortable experience. Before Schroeder could process what had happened and react, Parrish had closed the distance between them and shoved him back against the glass, his hand gripping Schroeder's neck in an incredibly painful hold.

"You listen to me and you listen well: I have given you more than enough space for your work, and in return you have given me the bare minimum," Parrish snapped at him, spit landing on Schroeder's glasses. Though that wasn't nearly as unpleasant as the pain he felt in his throat, and the fact he could barely grunt let alone speak. "You were brought onto this program under the promise you would do your job. And instead, you decide now is the time to grow a moral backbone. Where's that distance and ruthlessness I expected? You're Belkan. Act like it." For emphasis, when Schroeder attempted to move forward, Parrish shoved against his neck and forced him back. "Now you can do your job and do what I say or I can throw you to the wolves, let the Conservatives and those Osean dogs tear you apart. They aren't too fond of you people these days, remember?"

"Alright. Your point is made," Schroeder managed to say, trying to swallow. That alone was painful. He lifted a hand, pretty sure his anger and fear were written all over his face. That didn't stop him from seizing Parrish's wrist and managing to pry his grip loose as he pressed his thumb against a pressure point he knew would hurt. Parrish snatched his hand back and took a step away, allowing Schroeder a chance to breathe clearly. He tried not to double over, leaning forward some and glaring up at Parrish. "If you want this done right then I need time. And I need freedom. Whether you like it or not, I'd like to see how far you get without me. Even my assistants only know so much, and putting a gun to anyone's head is only going to do you so much good."

"You've run out of time, Dr. Schroeder. Hence the reason we're all here," Parrish growled, gesturing to his men. By now they all were standing around, too stunned to move or even speak. It had gone dead quiet. By now, Simon was standing in the doorway, eyes wide as Massa came racing up to him, immediately silenced by Simon. Parrish didn't pay any of them any attention. "I don't care if I have to put a bullet through one of them just to get you to cooperate, you've lost any right to my trust. And your freedom."

"If you kill them then you might as well kill me, too," Schroeder said, not bothering to keep himself from snapping. He glanced at the door where both of his assistants stood, listening in while looking rightfully scared for their own lives. He didn't know where his own boldness had come from but for their sake he couldn't back down. "If you think senselessly killing an innocent is going to bring me around to your side then you're further gone than I thought."

Schroeder was almost immediately reminded of a lesson he'd learned years ago. The reason he knew better than to talk back. As soon as the words left his mouth, Parrish reacted, not even pausing to think about it before he slammed a fist against the side of Schroeder's face. He hit him so hard his glasses were knocked to the ground, landing with a clatter and by some miracle not breaking. At first the pain was dull, but as soon as he processed what had happened it became sharp and stinging. He heard several people gasp and the sound of Massa attempting to move towards him before Simon stopped her. On instinct he lifted a hand to his face, brushing his fingers along the edge of his eye where the blow had landed, trying not to wince.

He reached for his glasses before he did anything else from there, the world quite literally a blur around him. He checked them over before placing them back on his face, straightening up and doing whatever he had to not to look fazed by what had happened. Schroeder straightened out his collar and coat, adjusted his glasses, and combed through his hair with his fingers, not wanting to give in so easily. He never thought of himself as a confrontational person, let alone a physically confrontational one, but he couldn't deny that throwing a punch right back would have been incredibly satisfying. He resisted the urge, no matter how tempting it was.

Parrish glared at him, shaking out his fist and fingers, his knuckles red. He was quick to compose himself again, tugging at the collar of his uniform. He took a shaky breath, but put on an amiable front. One that, under the circumstances, came off as nothing short of aggressiveness. "I think I've made things rather clear for you, Dr. Schroeder," he said. "You are no longer an equal in this situation. In fact, it's questionable if you ever were one to begin with. You do not give orders, you do not make decisions. I own you. You're of little more value than the drones you've made."

"A creation you could not have achieved if not for myself and my assistants," Schroeder pointed out. He thought to also point out that the EASA's drones never would have put up a real fight without Gründer's aid and technology, but he wasn't eager to be punched again.

"Yes, yes, and thank you for lending us your wonderful mind and gifted hands," Parrish said with exaggerated respect, his gratitude clearly nonexistent. He gave him a small smile. Almost as though he pitied him. "But with the Ravens, and then that data chip you've been keeping from me…you will no longer be necessary."

"So you're telling me I'm dead as soon as you get what you want?" Schroeder asked flatly. "That doesn't give me much incentive to work, now does it?"

"I'm not saying I'm going to kill you as soon as you've outlived your purpose, but don't tempt me," Parrish sneered. He waved a hand dismissively. "If I have any need for you, then I will come to you, and you will be compensated well so long as you do what you're told. That being said, once your work is done I expect you to stay out of my way."

Schroeder hesitated, glancing around the room full of soldiers, out the window at the MQ-99s they were still manufacturing. Then he looked towards where Simon and Massa stood. He sighed. "Tonight," he said, relenting. "I can promise I will have it ready tonight. That's the best I can do, but I…I need space to work."

Parrish looked him over, clearly searching for any sign that Schroeder was trying to deceive him. He looked around at his men, and then slowly nodded. "Very well. Provided the work gets done." He headed for the door, motioning for his men to follow him out. "You have until 0500. If the work isn't complete then, I'm sure I don't have to tell you there will be consequences."

Schroeder watched him leave, Simon and Massa reluctantly stepping aside to let the General and his men leave. They rudely brushed past them anyways. Schroeder sighed, following them to the door and making sure they left. However, he realized that he wasn't being given complete freedom. Two of the Erusean soldiers stayed behind, positioning themselves outside the door at Parrish's order while the rest of their comrades continued down the hall.

Across the hall from the door, Schroeder noticed both of Mihaly's granddaughters standing there, having apparently witnessed the whole exchange just like Massa and Simon. Alma looked a bit confused and startled, but Ionela just stood there with an entirely blank expression on her face, like she wasn't bothered at all by what had happened. But there was a bit of a coldness in her eyes, instead of complete and total apathy.

He ignored her, looking over Simon and Massa. "Are you two alright?"

They both nodded, Massa the first one to find her voice. "Yeah, we are, but what about you? Are you seriously gonna let that slide?"

"Yeah," Simon agreed, looking up at him. "What are we supposed to do?"

Schroeder looked between the soldiers watching the three of them like a hawk, and then up towards Mihaly's granddaughters. He sighed, not really having much of a choice in the matter. "Simple answer," he said, turning back into the room, shoving his hand in his pocket and gripping the data chip. "The only thing we can do – our jobs."