The Arcadian soldiers herded the group of Siatians, with Xaleyp and Beta bringing up the rear, after Korvak Grimaldus. Rach tried to steal glances back at Xaleyp, but swift hits from the end of a rifle returned her gaze forward.

Beta said to Xaleyp through the virtual environment.

Before he had a chance to respond, the group stopped moving, and Grimaldus turned to stare at them. Forcibly ripping its way through the brick wall and tossing Beta’s avatar aside came a disembodied hand. As soon as it came, it vanished again, and with it, the virtual world disappeared.

“That’ll be enough of that,” Grimaldus said, his eyes flicking between the two of them. “Now, let’s get this over with so that we can show the galaxy who’s really in charge.

They walked past half a dozen doors before finally coming to a stop outside one that seemed to be on the opposite side of the building from where they started. Grimaldus stood motionless for a moment, his eye dancing around as he delved into the depths of the CAM, before the door opened and another Arcadian soldier beckoned them in.

The room was a large conference room, the walls arcing around to follow the curvature of the building. A bay of windows took up the entirety of the opposite wall, though the glass was broken in several places. Potted plants stood in the corners of the room with an Arcadian soldier in front of each, their hands resting atop their assault rifles. At either side of the room was another door, both closed. Dust hung limply in the air, slowly filtering in untidy circles around the room as wind blew in through the holes in the glass.

A table sat in the middle of the room with two dozen chairs surrounding it and half of them occupied, three on facing the windows and three facing the door. At the center of the table sat datapads haphazardly stacked. In the middle of the three chairs nearer the windows was an older man with hair that was black near the tips and gray at the roots. It was longer than Xaleyp would’ve expected, the back hanging down to the man’s shoulders and the fronts and sides framing his face. Wrinkles ran across his face with a hardened expression emblazoned on it. His once formal gold and red robes were tattered and dirtied in places, and a fresh cut ran up and down his lip.

Every few moments, one of the men would grab one of the datapads, scribble a note or two, then replace it on the table before grabbing another and repeating the process. Name placards in front of them indicated their positions within the government: Secretaries of War and Defense, as well as Prime Minister and Imperator, were the only ones Xaleyp had a chance to read.

The central man stood, his robe billowing slightly with the movement, and a smile stretched out over his face, splitting open the cut once more and causing a blot of blood to appear in the spot. At his waist was the holster for a pistol that looked similar to the one Beta once held, though it lacked the distinctive runes. General Grimaldus stood aside and moved towards the door at the opposite side, bowing to the other man as he went.

“Ah, Xaleyp Vah’Aris in the flesh.” He slowly walked around the table, speaking as he went with a familiar creepy smile spreading out across his lips. With each step, he slapped a datapad in his hand lightly against the palm of his other. “Finally, you make your way back to us after slowly chipping away at our defenses. It is my pleasure to finally meet you, especially after you ran away with my cousin and forced us to find a new Secretary of War.”

The man gestured with a datapad in his hand to one of the men sitting around the table, who inclined in his head in the direction of the newcomers.

“Anyway, my name is, as you might have guessed, Imperator Castellian Nevermoor.” He bowed with flourish as he said the words, turning for a moment as if waiting for applause, then returned his attention to Xaleyp when none came. “I’m sure you’re just here to dismantle another terrorist organization, or rescue some other Secretary moments before their location is hit with a frigate, just as I am sure that you and the soldiers standing here with you had absolutely nothing to do with this attack on New Alexandria that has left countless dead and injured, isn’t that right? Then again, Arcadia has proven to be one of the few that will stand against the Concord, so perhaps this is retaliation for our not wanting to turn submissive to our inferiors.”

Castellian turned away from the group, setting the datapad gingerly down with the others on the table. He watched for several moments out the window, where the smoke from the destroyed buildings continued to rise. The mountain where Nevermoor Hold once stood was clearly visible in the distance, its craggy peaks standing strong as a backdrop against the devastation wrought by Siatia.

The men continued their scribbling of notes on the datapads, and, as they did so, Beta silently got Xaleyp’s attention, gesturing with her head almost imperceptibly towards the door on their right. The two stared at each other for a moment, trying to convey a secret message and decide if they were thinking the same thing. This could be the opportunity they were looking for. If they waited for the right moment, they could escape and capture Castellian before the soldiers knew what was going on.

Taking the chance, Beta barely moved to lips to mouth, “Three.”

Finally, Castellian turned back to the group of Siatians, holding up one of the datapads for them all to see.

“This is the civilian damage report, if you’re interested.” He shrugged his shoulders and chuckled darkly. Two of the other men’s faces went white at the words. Castellian gestured to them without looking, keeping his eyes trained on Xaleyp. “Even if you’re not, I’m sure the expression on the faces our Prime Minister and Secretary of Defense are enough to tell you how much destruction you brought.

“It is estimated there are currently over one point four million dead, with another five million within range to have been severely injured, in the course of your attack. Not to mention the lucklihood of their survival drops with each passing moment as your forces continue to assault our emergency services and have cut off access to hospitals.” The creepy smile on Castellian’s face faded away at once, replaced by a look of almost depressed malice. Xaleyp felt his heart leap into his throat at the mention of so much death. Part of him remembered that it was indeed himself that ordered the attack, but he hadn’t anticipated to kill so many people. “A further fifteen million are directly affected by the destruction either through loss of homes or jobs, and the reconstruction alone is going to cost well over a hundred billion credits, not to mention the cost of the loss of life. And you people dare to call yourselves saviors and protectors.”

He scoffed, shaking his head and tossing the datapad back onto the table with a clatter. Taking a few steps closer to Xaleyp, he brought his finger up and wagged it in his face.

“The galaxy will hear of this attack, mark my words. They will know that Siatia launched an unprovoked, unprecedented attack on Arcadia in an attempt to both intimidate us and force us to capitulate to a treaty we wanted nothing to do with.”

Xaleyp, silent for so long, finally opened his mouth to speak, his voice cracking slightly with dryness and anger.

“You ordered the destruction of a harmless civilian vessel!” he shouted, his voice filling the area. He licked his lips in an attempt to moisten them, stepping closer to Castellian before the Arcadians held out their rifles to stop him. His hands shook in front of him, and he was unable to keep his voice under control. “Your military is responsible for this attack. They destroyed a civilian transport on Siatia, killing hundreds of people, my parents included, and you dare say that this attack is unprovoked?”

Rach started at the mention of Xaleyp’s parents being dead, but Castellian’s voice drowned her out.

“I’ve done no such thing!” Castellian shoved Xaleyp back into line with the other Siatians before stepping forward to close the distance and put his face in Xaleyp’s. He gripped the exosuit at the shoulders and held tight, keeping Xaleyp in place. Both of them breathed heavily, their eyes scanning one another for any sign of weakness. “You may call me many things: a killer, a dictator, a tyrant, an oppressor, anything else you want to try and dehumanize me. But one thing I will never do—never—is involve innocent civilians that have no idea what they got themselves into, who did nothing do deserve it. And even if I did, how does one civilian transport even come close to comparing to the atrocities you have committed here today? Or is it only right because your parents were involved? You didn’t see me bombing Siatia and going on a murderspree when you assassinated Tober. You know why? Because I am not a homicidal lunatic like your dear Acusiont is, like you are becoming.”

There was a brief pause in Castellian’s speech, giving Xaleyp time to contemplate the man’s words. How dare he claim that he, Xaleyp, was becoming a homicidal lunatic? Even as he wanted to refute the words, though, somewhere deep inside, he knew that Castellian was right, that he was on a path that he might not be able to get off.

“You can call me a killer, Xaleyp, you can even call me a butcher, but then you’d have to apply it yourself a thousandfold, and I don’t know if you can take such a hit to your ego.”