The pod of juvenile Amaranthine nymph-eels stood almost like Earth meerkats out of the water with their upper bodies straight, huge expressive eyes wistfully following their erstwhile playmate as he wagged inelegantly ashore, bright red antlers whirring in a combination of anticipation and sadness. Their four-metre long bodies eventually dove back into the warm waters of the Reserve Shore beach, and they continued their complex water-dance that would make any ballerina green with envy. Edward Heatherland leaned his head over and flat-palm punched his head to expel the water still in his left ear. Playing with nymph-eels was an Amaranthine tradition, the huge well-meaning monsters were playful devils, but they were completely unaware of their size. Four, five, or even six metre long before they reached their fertile stage, these water-beasts were nothing but jovial creatures that really didn’t recognise their own size compared to their playmates. Edward waved to the pod, and the seven members of the pod responded by waving their upper bodies, before diving back into the deeper water of the Reserve Shore. The fauna of Amaranth was commonly very large and alien compared to what humans had been used to back on Earth, but after living alongside nominally weird creatures like nymph-eels, guardian hawks, and Amaranthine unicorns (which looked absolutely nothing like folklore unicorns) for five hundred years, the novelty had worn off.

Crystal-sand crunched under Edward’s feet, and he walked gingerly on the hot particles until he reached the padded area where beach chairs and parasols had been set up. The Reserve Belt was a major tourist attraction, pristine crystal-sand beaches that stretched on for many kilometres, barely touched rainforest reserves (hence the name) spread across a number of archipelagos and atolls, and the bustling city of Cybelia, technically a suburb of the capital of Persephone, but located on a separate archipelago. Amaranth was both blessed and cursed by being located right on the very border of the “Goldilocks Zone” of planetary evolution when it came to creating suitable conditions for permanent human settlement. Moon-less Amaranth was orbiting the red giant of Aditya at just the right distance that radiation didn’t fry everything, but it made the planet not have any other season but summer, its quick eight-month Galactic Relative cycle being separated by three months of “wet summer” and five months of “dry summer”, but interspersed unlike, say, Monsoon Season back in Old Earth South-East Asia.

Edward picked up his towel and wiped his body down as well as his dark hair, his usually quite tightly manicured beard now longer than what he was actually comfortable with. Conversations played back in his mind as he picked his ‘com to see if any new messages had come in while he was swimming with the nymph-eels. Speaking of which, they were now about two-hundred metres out from shore, splashing about and diving around in a fashion that no human could ever hope to recreate. Even the juveniles lowered themselves to the ground-based two-legged peoples’ level when close to the beaches apparently, their high level of intelligence clearly on display.

Speaking of display, Edward frowned and cursed under his breath at the news from Aurora of the fourth day of the criminal court trial of the former head of the Royal Cordelian Metropolitan Police Department, Sir Justin McCloud. He was facing serious charges ranging from wilful ignorance of criminal activity to assisting mass murder, ranging from at the lowest estimate of five years in jail to ninety at the highest. Despite what the fringe parts of the multi-media outlets reported, the latter was highly unrealistic, but the former was also out of the question. Sir Justin’s case was a unicorn in Auroran history; no one in such an important position with command of the state-monopoly command of violence as he had, had ever fucked up this hard. In Edward’s mind, Montesquieu and Locke were spinning hard in their graves somewhere in Europe on Old Earth.

“It is my regret to inform you of a declination of your expressed interest at our orchestra, and I hope you find better luck elsewhere.”

That had been from the New Victoria Van Siddart Memorial Orchestra, and Edward could still visualise the meeting in the auditorium where the director, the musical producer, the first violinist and the current piano soloist had wat -not watched, visually dissected my performance-, already having made their mind up about rejecting his application to join. At least they had been sporting enough to pay for his shuttle tickets to New Victoria and back to Cordelia; the very base level of civility after Edward had wasted two days on the fruitless audition.

“Screw getting an A in Early Classics,” he hissed, his teeth grinding as he vocalised it, “if it counts for fuck all.”

He felt his hand clasp hard around his ‘com, producing a few sounds of protesting smartglass before he let go again. That had only been one of many rejections following the audition phase after his last exams in November. So far he had auditioned for seven orchestras in Cordelia, one in New Victoria, two in Oldtown, and one in New Ontario. Every single one had been outright rejections.

“Done diving with your new friends already?” a voice asked from behind him, and he turned to look into a pair of amber eyes.

“Well, considering two of them forgot their size and squashed me between their huge scaly bodies while they tried to do the underwater equivalent of an interchanging pas de deux, or trois I should say, I didn’t feel like risking the chance of accidently drowning any longer. The beasts forget they’re so big, especially when they’re still juveniles. Also, you’ve barely touched the water at all, Val, you have no say in the matter.”

Valentine bin Kamis shrugged with a lopsided grin on his bronzed face, the aforementioned eyes glinting with humour.

“Mate, I go to the beach almost every weekend, that’s the perk of studying in Persephone instead off far-off Cordelia.”

He shrugged again and tied his long sun-bleached light brown hair back into his customary ponytail, probably intentionally giving some of the others patrons on the beach a show of his toned upper body. Edward simply rolled his eyes as he put his towel around his shoulders and slicked back his hair as best he could.

“So,” Valentine asked as he was done fixing his barely wet hair/showing off, “what are the plans for the rest of the Holidays, now that the traditional Christmas Eve Dip is done?”

They started to pack up their things –water bottles, towels, sand slippers, their beach umbrella– and Edward discreetly pulled his wet towel around his waist, slipping off his wet shorts and replacing them with a pair of sports trousers while obscured by the towel. Not that it would have mattered much if some skin had shown; Amaranthines were very blasé when it came to temporary beach nudity, par for the course when beaches and bodies of water were such a large part of their recreational culture.

“Mum’s invited over Aunt Ariel and her kids, so Cousin Lana and Cousin Andros is coming over, as well as Uncle William. I don’t know why she insists on having so many over on Christmas Eve, it’s Boxing Day that’s the big dinner day of the Holidays. Now that I think about it, it was probably Auntie’s idea, I think Andros is going to the Royal Military Academy, and she probably wants to brag about it.”

Valentine grimaced as he hefted the laden bag over his left shoulder, and it had nothing to do with the weight of the bag.

“That sounds like it’s going to be a rough time, oppo, having your dad’s Corinthian half-sister and her family over. It sure doesn’t sound like something Mrs Theodora would come up with on her own. Better hide away the heavy liquor, or it might become a very personal recreation of the Dionysian-Corinthian Corridor War.”

Edward smiled for what felt like the first time in ten days, despite the relatively weak joke his oldest friend had made. After the events of 13 November, Edward had more or less gone to ground, choosing to shut himself out from the rest of the world. While David, Arvind, and Peter sat glued to the news streams for days afterwards, Edward had put his head in the sand and concentrated on practicing the piano. When the grades of the final exams of his penultimate semester came trickling in, he was confirmed as a honours student, how the hell did that happen¸ with A’s in Early Classics, Revival Baroque, and, incredibly enough, Intermediate Conducting Theory. With that in his back pocket, he had started applying for positions in as many orchestras and troupes that could possibly be in need of a piano soloist by the time he was done with this major the coming summer. That had proven to be not only an exercise in futility, but a series of defeats that had ground him down mentally. The lack of contact with Adea following the chaos of the 13th and the aftermath had meant he had isolated himself further, before choosing to go back home to Amaranth for the Holidays. Six days on a passenger liner had been a chore, despite the many amenities on board, and his whole body felt stiff and uncomfortable upon arrival, not helped by the 1G artificial gravity kept on board. But then the news from the Livia System had arrived, which had soured the Holiday Season further. All of which explained why Edward appreciated Val’s attempt at levity, despite the poor joke.

“Yeah,” he said in response as the duo started walking along the piedway overlooking the beach on the way back into Cybelia, “that has happened on occasion over the years, but I hear Mum and Auntie are pretty restrained compared to when Dionysians and Corinthians usually bump into each other. The Auroran way of life must have mellowed them out a bit over the decades.”

“So how’s life on the capitol world been like lately? It’s been a good while since your last e-letter, and a lot has happened since then.”

“Ugh, please don’t mention that, I came home partly to escape all that.”

Edward sighed as they stopped at a crossing, groundcars and trams passing by, though there were considerably fewer of them than it would usually be at this hour of the day, given it was Christmas Eve and all.

“It’s been pure pandemonium since the news of the attack on Euphoria became known, leading to the huge riots. It was like the atmosphere of Cordelia changed overnight, and then this whole business near New Malta happens. I only hope there is at least a modicum of Christmas spirit and cheer left, the Gods knows we need it right now.”

“We? Are you considering yourself a Cordelian after only three and a half years of residence? You traitorous bastard!”

Val punched Edward on the left shoulder with his free arm. Edward yelped, but saw his friend grinning when he looked over in surprise and his indignation subsided.

“I meant it as a collective ‘we’, you brutal water-ape,” he responded with a slight chuckle.

“The whole of the Kingdom is affected by this, there basically isn’t anything but coverage of this stuff on the news and in the webpapers. And I may be a piano major, but I know enough about history to recognise that this is just the sort of slippery slope of gradual escalation of tension that leads to armed conflict between nations.”

“Oh please,” Val snorted as they crossed the street as the hovering traffic lights switched colours, “Aurora hasn’t been involved in a proper war for over two-hundred and fifty years, and that was such a one-sided thumping of the Hydran Co-Prosperity League that we’re still allowed military access to this day.”

“Not unlimited,” Edward countered, “it’s only across a specified route, and the Hydrans hate our bloody guts, but tolerate us because we’re their largest export partner. And comparing the Hydrans with the Alliants is like saying a kitten is the equivalent of a fully grown Silvercat; those are two very different beasts.”

“You’ve grown so damn serious, Ed,” Val sighed as they passed a street choir singing carols, and Edward put his ‘com against the little drone hovering nearby to give a tip, to which the drone produced a smiling face on its screen and an androgynous voice chirped a happy “thank you very much, and Happy Holidays!” Despite the galactic relative date, the weather was warm and sunny, Val still wore his swimming shorts, and a high-sleeve shirt, while Edward’s legs were covered by a set of black sports trousers, and an unbuttoned cream collar-less shirt; a far cry from the winter apparel the people were wearing in Cordelia at the moment.

“I’m not sure you’re wrong about that Val, a lot has happened these few years, especially this past one, and I’ve been thrown into strange company lately. A good kind of strange, mind you!” He hurried to add that last part as Valentine visibly grew concerned, but at the comment he looked curious instead.

“Well, you’ll have to tell me about it. We’re still on for the Second Day get-together, yeah? The old gang will for the most part be there, Nancy is unfortunately on Kitezh for work and Logan is somewhere around Valerian on his first real posting.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Edward said, smiling once again, “it’s going to be such fun to see the old Cybelia bandits again, it has been too long since last time. But I didn’t know Logan had signed up for the Royal Navy, when did that happen?”

“About a year and a half ago after he decided that maritime construction work wasn’t for him, so he signed up as a Sailor Cadet at Cumberland, and after thirteen months he graduated as an Engineering Mate. I think he’s on a cruiser out by Valerian somewhere. A few of the others have or are considering signing up as well, especially with all that’s going on. I know Abdullah and Chloe are thinking about it, and…”

They both stopped at another crossing, not because they needed to cross, but because they had to enter the maglev station and take a train in opposite directions.

“You know what, we’ll talk about it over drinks on the Second Day party, don’t you agree? Better venue than the middle of a street anyway.”

Valentine grinned again, and Edward nodded, feeling a sense of calm settling in for the first time in weeks, or perhaps months, now that he was back home again, talking to his oldest friend about what their other acquaintances were up to.

“Hey,” he said, feeling a pang of nostalgia, “remember when we used to meet up here before taking the train to Princess Elizabeth’s?”

“How could I forget? We used to pick up a plate of hokkien mee from the food cart around the corner every Friday. I’m pretty sure it’s still there, if you fancy a bite.”

“Nah, I just wanted to make sure you remembered as well. Do you recall when we got caught out in that rainstorm before school and had to attend…”

“The first three periods dressed in our gym clothes under dripping wet blazers and trousers? Of course I remember. I also remember the pneumonia I got the following week. I didn’t know that phlegm could be coloured both orange and green.”

The duo laughed at the memory, the unsaid part that they both remembered when Chloe Samuels (their close friend, but also the student council president at Princess Elizabeth Upper Secondary) had given them an earful in front of their class made them laugh even harder, considering she had been caught in the same situation as them a month previous.

Edward suddenly didn’t miss Cordelia at all. Busy, immensely huge, so crowded with people that were always off on some errand or task or another, Cordelia had a tendency to swallow you up despite its beauty, its infinite amounts of various venues and possibilities, and Edward now felt like he hadn’t taken a proper breath of air for over three years. Cybelia and Amaranth simply felt different, the air was crisper, the sun warmer, there was a sort of languid atmosphere to the whole planet that Aurora simply lacked. He had never really thought about this before, when he had arrived in Cordelia, he had simply put his head down and gotten on with his studies. It had to take a trip back home, truly home, for him to realise how different his life was now compared to what it had been.

Edward suddenly didn’t miss Queen Marie’s and the pressure of his professional future crushing him into a pulp. He didn’t miss the way that politics always managed to seep into your daily life and forced you to have an opinion. He didn’t miss, I miss Adea. I miss her pouting face of annoyance when I call her ‘My Lady’, I miss the way she tucks her long red hair behind her ears, I miss our talks over tea, I miss looking at the way she moves like she was born with a feline grace, I miss her and Sandy’s banter, I miss letting myself just talk about anything with someone as perfect and scary and noble and goofy and understanding as her. Not to even mention Sandy, Arvind, Peter, David, Siobhan, and the rest of the soloists. I even miss Artemisia, her usually serious face that can change from a raging storm from one moment to a teasing little pixie the next.

“Hey oppo, you okay?”

Val’s concerned voice brought Edward back to the here and now, and he felt something wet run down his cheeks, and his hair was too dry for it to be ocean water.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” he said turning half around, pretending to look at the maglev train arrival and departing screen. “Just got something in my eye that’s all, probably some of that bastard crystal-sand. Anyway, see you at your place in three days.”

“Hell yeah,” Valentine beamed, “better bring you drinking A-Game, we’ll be going hard all day, and then we’ll hit the clubs!”

But Edward was already on his way up the stairs to the station, trying to not let anyone see his pathetic tears.

A teardrop hit the dinner table in the tenth-floor apartment building in eastern Newdawn, the capital city of Marduk. Due to the differences in planetary rotation compared to planets like Amaranth, it was late afternoon on Christmas Day, and the family dinner in the Himura household had been both served and eaten. The dinner table had seating for five, but during the meal only four had been occupied, the empty seat having been set, but not touched. Helping his younger sisters cleaning up in the kitchen, Yared Himura could hear his mother stifling sobs from the dinner room. Kira and Yuki were trying their best for their mother’s sake to not do the same, but they were fighting a losing battle. It had only been a week since the Alliance Space Navy lieutenant commander and the local Shinto priest dressed in formal wear had appeared at the door of their apartment. With his cap tucked under his arm, the lieutenant commander had delivered a formal letter from the Department of Home Affairs, and the priest had said if they needed any form of comfort or a talk, they were free to seek him out. Their mother had collapsed as soon as the unwanted visitors had left.

The empty seat had been for their father Xan. Xan was –had been– a merchant sailor on the AMS Jesper Georgs II, and had lost his life when Auroran soldiers had opened fire during a customs inspection gone sour. The presents that Yared, Yuki, and Kira would normally been looking forward to for weeks lay unopened in the living room. Mother had bravely soldiered on these past few days, preparing the Christmas Day dinner as usual, with all the customary dishes, but now it became too much for her. Attempting to put on a natural and smiling face, but ultimately failing, her eyes red and with a strangled tone of voice, she said she had a headache and was going to bed, telling the children to enjoy themselves. Kira, the youngest at twelve, had said she too had a headache, and wanted to sleep next to her mom tonight, so they had retired. Yared and Yuki didn’t blame either of them, instead hoping they get at least some form of comfortable sleep. Just to make sure, Yuki sneakily slipped a dissolvable sleeping pill into the glasses of water on their mother’s bedroom nightstand while they were in the bathroom.

While Yuki did that, Yared went to the living room liquor cabinet, and out one of his dad’s unopened bottles of highly prized Hyacinthian ruby-rum. That bottle in particular Xan had been saving for Yared’s graduation from High School as an Electronics Apprentice. Unable to keep a secret, Xan had hinted that he’d already found Yared a starting position with the Indigo Shipliner’s Yard as a junior electrician through a trusty old poker buddy. That spot might or might not still be open to Yared, but in the present moment his prospective future career only made his eyes sting. He put on a thick duffel coat, hid the long, thin bottle as best he could inside it, put a cap over his cropped blonde-tipped black hair, and opened the door. He took the highrise elevator down to the ground floor, using the short solitary intermission in the elevator cart to sip from the bottle which he uncorked without ceremony, tasting the fiery and floral alcohol which made him almost gag at its high proof. Stuffing the bottle back into his coat, he exited the highrise entrance hall, and found himself on the sleepy residential street of their apartment complex. He didn’t really have any destination in mind, just letting his feet guide him where they wanted. Yared walked down back alleys, across usually heavily trafficked piedways, across major intersections, thin access ways that in reality should have been shut down to traffic, taking the opportunity when he was pretty sure he was alone to steal a swig from the bottle he was hiding. After a while he found himself at the water’s edge where Newdawn ended and Rekindler Lake started. He walked along the lake-side piedway for a time before finding a skycar pickup shelter that pointed towards the water, and sat down, legs dangling over the seawall that separated the piedway from the gravel-beach eight feet below. Sheltered from the rest of the city of many millions, he fished out the rum bottle.

“You fucking idiot, what are you doing? Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

Yared wasn’t sure how far he had walked and for how long, and surprised that the bottle was missing over a third of its liquid, but he could recognise his sister’s voice anywhere. Yuki leaned over him, her dyed light pink hair forming a cascade over her shoulders. Yared noticed Yuki wore one of their mother’s winter coats, a black ulsterette jacket of genuine Corinthian wool. Her brown eyes shone with both indignation and sympathy.

“I don’t care what you think,” Yared replied, taking another sip from the bottle just to prove a point, “just leave me the fuck alone.”

“It’s not like you were the only one to love dad, shitbag,” Yuki said as she slid down to sit next to Yared, and after a moment she held out her hand for the bottle. Yared was momentarily conflicted; Yuki was sixteen, too young to be legally drinking. Hell to the law, hell to society, hell to everything. He handed the bottle of strong liqueur over. She took a brave swig, and even managed to not cough as the fire of the alcohol punched against her oesophagus like a hammer. Yared took the bottle back and took another sip.

“I’m going to punish them,” he whispered. Yuki almost had to lean in to hear what he was saying.

“I’m not talking about the ones who killed dad, the chance of that is one-in-a-billion. I’m talking about ‘them’ in general.”

A blast of wind washed over them, carrying the fertile smell of Rekindler Lake with it, an aroma of seaweed, fish, and illegal pollution.

“I am joining the Alliance Space Navy, sis,” Yared said as the last of the smells the blast of wind left his nostrils. “I don’t care if I don’t get to serve on a warship, able to literally train a gun on the Aurorans. If I can just be a cog in the machine that helps push them back and punish them for their extreme arrogance, their bloodthirsty ways, then I will have done my part. I just don’t want anyone in the Alliance to feel the same way we’ve done tonight ever again.”

His voice caught something during the last sentence, and he had to fight tears again. Yuki leaned over him, putting one arm over Yared’s shoulders, while the other found the rum bottle. She brought it to her lips and took a long draft from it. Her pale face was flushed as she put the bottle down and put her forehead against her older brother’s, pairs of brown eyes almost the exact copy of the other locking together.

“Then we’ll sign up together, and we’ll punish the Aurorans together. Not just for Father, but for the freedom of the Galaxy. Please wait for me, brother.”