Image by Jörg Hamel from Pixabay

“You seem more than a little protective of the brown-haired courtesan,” Kuen said as he started unlacing his boots. Gaspare grunted as he pulled off his own shoes. The two were in the practice arena inside the basement of the Benoit family’s vacation home, an area Kuen greatly appreciated having access to since he didn’t get many chances to work out to his preferred level of exhaustion anymore.

“Aoi is a sweet girl. She didn’t deserve to be indentured because she wanted to improve her life and got stuck on a ship that exploded.” Gaspare tossed his shoes onto the appropriate shelf. Kuen’s followed a moment later.

“Do you think that redhead is the same?” Kuen made sure his hair was securely tied back. “A victim who didn’t deserve her fate in life?”

“Kuen, you have seen the problems inherent in the indentured servant system. Look what happens to those forced into slavery by your mother. Do you really think anyone deserves that?” Gaspare demanded.

“Those from the Colonies do.” Bile rose in Kuen’s throat at the memory of some of those screams. He swallowed it down.

“Why?” Gaspare glared at him over his shoulder. “Because you still blame them for Nafisa choosing to believe certain things over what you believed in?”

Kuen made sure Gaspare was on the mats before swinging at him. Gaspare easily dodged the taller man’s blow. “No. The Colonies’ refusal to accept the fact that they are inferior to the Central Worlds in every way has led to far more bloodshed than just Nafi’s death.”

Gaspare moved with lightning speed, and only Kuen’s well trained reflexes saved him from a knee to the gut. As it was, he caught the back edge of the kick on his hip. Kuen reached to grab Gaspare’s leg, but the blond was already moving away.

“Tell me, Kuen, do you like living with someone telling you your way of life is wrong? Your thoughts, beliefs, feelings, and entire existence is invalid because they feel you’re inferior?” Gaspare continued to press his attack.

“This isn’t the same thing, and you know it.” Kuen swung at Gaspare again. The lithe blond easily dodged to the side.

“It is the same thing.” Gaspare closed in again, hands gripping Kuen’s waist. Kuen squirmed out of his grip and drove an elbow into Gaspare’s back.

Gaspare staggered forward a few steps. He managed to avoid Kuen’s follow up attack – which would have laid him out if it had connected. Instead, he grabbed Kuen’s wrist and attempted to use the other man’s height and weight to overbalance him, make it easier to throw him down onto the mats.

Kuen barely managed to escape that trap. “How is it the same?” He attempted the same trick on Gaspare, only to have his grip broken. The two resumed circling each other.

“There are certain expectations everyone has, certain freedoms every sentient creature should be allowed.” Gaspare dropped and swept his foot around, attempting to knock Kuen off his feet. The attack almost succeeded and Kuen was momentarily off balance. “The CWA has essentially stripped those freedoms, those rights, from the Colonies. Do I agree with everything both sides are doing? No, I most certainly do not. Do I think things could have been handled better on our side? I absolutely think the Assembly lost their collective minds when they chose violence over a more politically minded solution.”

Kuen recovered before Gaspare could follow up and completely take him down. “So, you think the Colonies should be free to rule themselves however they see fit, do as they please, and suffer no consequences for breaking the laws of the Central Worlds Alliance?”

“They’re not a part of the CWA, Kuen.” Gaspare ducked and dove to the side, avoiding the blow Kuen tried to sneak in. “Why should they be forced to follow our laws if they’re not actually part of the core alliance of worlds? Also, you do realize the only reason this violence is consistently being called for is because of your mother, right?”

Kuen tried to grab Gaspare again but missed. “My mother has nothing to do with the High Command’s insistence on increased sanctions against the Colonies.”

Kuen didn’t dodge the blow that his the small of his back this time and he staggered. Gaspare swept his legs again and he went crashing down on the mats. “Kuen, you’re an idiot. Do you want to see the latest reports my father sent me? You know he has far more information than either of us could ever hope of getting on our own.” Gaspare held out his hand to help his friend up.

Kuen took the offered hand and hauled himself back to his feet. “Yes, I would.”

Gaspare walked over to a pile of towels and tossed him one. “You know the rules. We’ll have to shower first. My mother objects to any of us wandering around the house smelling like sweat for some reason,” he said with a laugh.

Kuen joined him in the small locker room area where they each grabbed a fast shower. Gaspare took Kuen up to the office that would have been High Admiral Benoit’s private hideaway from the family if he were home.

“Where is this proof you’re so convinced by?” Kuen asked. Gaspare handed him a tablet. “I don’t have the clearance to access these.”

“I confirmed with my father that your security clearance wasn’t revoked.” Gaspare crossed his arms over his chest. “Read the reports and quit stalling.”

Kuen grumbled but did as he was told. His scowl deepened the more that he read. “I find it hard to believe that she’s able to maintain something like this when she is currently embroiled in the corporate situation on Obiea.”

“Kuen, I love you like a brother, but you are dense sometimes. Your mother has been using you to keep up her momentum. All those meetings you run for her, the veiled threats made on her behalf, the ‘favors’ done for Councilors that your mother is constantly banking, what do you think those are for?” Gaspare asked.

Kuen shook his head. “I’m only doing what I’m told to avoid her more sadistic punishments. You know that. Starfire, you’ve seen the injuries I’ve had from Lakshmi’s attempts to correct my behavior. You’re saying I should court those again?”

“No, but if you want to continue to be allowed to escape to Cova – or any of my family’s other estates – you need to lay off the attitude. Or I’ll tell my father to cut off your security access.” Gaspare crossed his arms across his chest. “You’ll also be far nicer to the two courtesans than you have been.”

“You consider the feelings of the courtesans that important, Gaspare?” Kuen stared at him in shock.

“I consider the feelings of all individuals to be that important. Now, will you behave yourself for the few days you’re here? Or do I send you back to your mother, since you seem to enjoy her company so much?” Gaspare glared at Kuen.

Kuen gritted his teeth. “I seem to be very good at following orders, so I’ll do as you say, Gaspare.”

Gaspare put a hand on Kuen’s shoulder. “Something else is eating at you, Kuen. What’s wrong?”

“Today is Nafi’s birthday,” Kuen said. “It’s also the day she died.”

Gaspare nodded. “You’re already out of sorts and having two young ladies from the Colonies to remind you that Nafisa sacrificed herself for her belief in the fight of the Colonists rather than remaining loyal to the CWA is grating on your nerves.”

“She was lied to, Gaspare. She was used and abandoned by the piece of wasted genetic material who led her down that path. The Colonials have always been violent non-conformists who delight in the murder of innocent lives.” Kuen clenched his fists.

“That’s always been the calling card of the CWA,” a smooth, lightly accented voice said from the doorway. Both men turned. “My apologies if this is a private conversation. Lady Benoit said I could find you two here. Lord Benoit, Aoi isn’t feeling well so she won’t be available this evening. She’s going to sleep off whatever it is that’s ailing her and then she’ll join you in the morning. She’s hoping you won’t penalize her.”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t dream of it.” Gaspare pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Fiera, please, join us.”

“I think Lord Nakano would prefer it if I didn’t, and I rarely go anywhere I’m unwanted.” Fiera leaned against the door frame.

“Oh, please do come in.” Kuen made a restless motion with his hand. “I am curious about the Colonies and perhaps you can answer my questions, since you seem to know everything about your fellow Colonials.”

Fiera drifted into the room, very much the Blue Butterfly she was named back on Bouarus. Kuen couldn’t help but admire the fit body caressed by the teal silk gown she wore. Dark cherry red hair, reminiscent of the shade on the man in the portrait outside his bedroom door, flowed loosely down her back and was kept out of her face by a simple ribbon matching the color of the dress. Understated jewelry and only a faint touch of makeup finished the quiet elegance of her look.

He caught the scent of spring as she passed him – cherry blossoms, fresh grass, and something undefinable he couldn’t quite pinpoint. He gave himself a mental shake. She was just doing what courtesans were very good at and he couldn’t allow her to distract him so much.

“You say you have questions, Lord Nakano.” Her accent became a little thicker. “First thing to know is Colonial is an insult and while Lord Benoit is paying me, I do still have the right to choose who I spend my time with and Aoi has indicated she’ll share him with me if you prove to be too troublesome. We are Colonists, or designated by the name of our homeworld, and we are not Colonials.”

“What world are you from? I know you were born to the Colonies, but I don’t recognize your accent,” Gaspare said.

Fiera’s laugh was distinctive and Kuen realized he’d heard it many times at parties before this. “Sorus, the last world colonized before the CWA came in and got all up in everyone’s business, where we didn’t want or need you.”

“You seem to be doing well enough because of our interference.” Kuen looked at her gown and jewelry. “You seem to be doing far better than many of your Colonist friends.”

Fiera snorted. “You’re the reason for the famine that killed my family. I’d be a farmgirl, probably married with a farm of my own and a few kids by now. They’d be running in a pack with my nieces and nephews.”

“How many siblings did you have?” Kuen asked.

“Twelve.”

“There were thirteen of you born to your parents?” Kuen’s eyes widened. Gaspare had a large family with a total of eight children. But the concept of thirteen children running around seemed even harder for him to grasp.

 “I’m guessing my parents would’ve gone on until my mother got herself fixed,” Fiera said. “My mother had seventeen brothers and sisters. That’s how it goes out in the Colonies. We have big families to work the farms. We marry, and our own kids help on the farms. Or the fisheries. Or whatever family business it is. It’s how things are supposed to be.”

“You usually stick to family businesses?” Gaspare asked. “No one ventures out on their own?”

“Some do. Sometimes there’s not enough room on the property so the youngest have to go out on their own. Some marry into other farms. Some join the mercantile quarter and sell the stuff from the farms. At least that was the way of it. Nowadays the youngest are sold into indenturement to pay the debts of their parents and older siblings because the CWA says so. It’s even odds if my twin and my youngest brother – the only other two survivors from my family – made it without getting indentured.”

“Have you given some thoughts as to going home and looking for them?” Gaspare asked.

“And do what, become indentured just to get back out there?” Fiera grimaced. “I just bought myself free, thank you very much. I’ll not put myself back into that position. Besides, even if I went home there’s not much chance I’d find them.”

“Why is that?” Gaspare asked.

“Herry was just a wee boy when our parents died, so he’s probably been taken into a family and had his old identity erased. As for Phelix, I have no idea where he ended up.” Fiera sighed. “He and I were farmhands together for a while but we each chose a different path in life, and mine landed me here.”

“Do you miss your brothers?” Kuen asked.

“What do you think?” Fiera glared at him, her vivid turquoise eyes practically glowing with emotion.

Kuen shrugged. “I know little about what it is like to lose a family member. I am an only child.”

Fiera pursed her lips. “Think of having a piece of your heart ripped from your chest, burnt in front of you, and then you’re left with a gaping wound that never heals. That will give you an inkling of what it’s like to lose a sibling.”

“I know that feeling. It is because of Colonists like you that she was taken from me,” Kuen growled.

“Oh?” Fiera asked.

Kuen found himself spilling the story he’d held inside for so long, the bitter rage escaping with it. “Nafi – Nafisa – was one of my closest friends.” His chest tightened. He clenched his fists, spine rigid and eyes unseeing as he returned to that day. “In a way I suppose she was as close as a sister. I was – I was off world, unaware of what was going on. As was Gaspare. Nafi was upset about something and was spending a lot of time at the bar. That is where she met a man named Taliesin.”

“Taliesin Yarwood?” Fiera asked.

“You knew him?” Kuen asked.

“Not me personally, but my father did. Taliesin and he were friends, if it’s the same man I’m thinking of. Taliesin was real trouble,” Fiera continued. “He’d been arrested so many times my mother often wondered how it was he kept getting out. She kept him away from the littles and told me and Phelix to do the same. Even my father was uneasy around him, and my father wasn’t really bothered by anyone.”

“Taliesin managed to talk his way into Nafi’s bed, and from there into her head,” Kuen said. “He convinced her becoming a spy and a terrorist was a good idea. She attacked the school we were attending and killed several of the students and teachers. Nafisa was captured along with several of the others while this Taliesin got away.”

“When did this happen?” Fiera asked.

“Probably eight years ago now,” Gaspare answered when Kuen didn’t.

“Taliesin died around that time. I know because my father was furious, and my mother was relieved. My father was not what you’d call an even-tempered man at the best of times.” Fiera shrugged. “I remember him punching holes in the walls and my mother throwing him out to go take his aggression out on the rocks in the fields that needed breaking up because he was scaring the littles.”

“How did he die? Do you know?” Gaspare asked.

“Killed by CAF troops on a planet called Ungara trying to save some political prisoners,” Fiera said. “Leastwise that’s the story that got back to us. No clue how true that part of it is. I just know his body was paraded around his homeworld of Covilles for weeks by CAF troops.”

“How much am I allowed to say?” Kuen looked at Gaspare.

“Say whatever you like. She’s under a non-disclosure agreement and the Blue Butterfly never breaks those,” Gaspare said.

“No, I don’t.” Fiera sat down on the edge of the desk. “I find it far easier to maintain my client list if they know I don’t talk about things to anyone, not even my stylists, that are classified under the NDA.”

“Then consider this classified under that.” Kuen strode over and closed the door. “Gaspare, Nafisa, and I were in the military. We were stationed at a military academy, and on that particular day the High Command was entertaining several members of the Assembly. It is why the Colony rebels attacked. I was off world on maneuvers but got back on the day of Nafisa’s court martial. I heard the whole story, and she did not deny any of it. She spat at us, called us puppets, and demanded we release those who had been taken with her as they had nothing to do with the situation.”

“She called us your mother’s puppets, and blind to the depravities of the Assembly as well, if I recall correctly.” Gaspare was immune to Kuen’s glare where he leaned up against the wall. “Finish what you were telling her and stop denying your mother’s part in all of this, like you consistently do.”

Kuen grimaced. “I was given a gun and told to execute her. It was a test of my loyalties since I was known to be close to her. She told me she would always remember who pulled the trigger, but as she died she did so content in the knowledge that I would never forget it either.”

“Did you follow your orders then?” Fiera asked.

“I did.” Kuen’s voice was a growl. “I was then allowed to go back to my quarters.” He touched the phoenix brooch on his jacket. “I have worn this – or carried it with me – ever since. It was hers. She left it for me, with the message that I was to keep it with me a reminder of our friendship. It has become a symbol of the crime I committed in killing one of my closest friends. It was as if she knew they would force me to execute her if their plans went wrong.”

“She probably did.” Fiera ran one of her curls through her fingers, a sad expression on her face. “The military is fond of testing the loyalty of those who are close to each other, to see if they’ll abandon those bonds in favor of serving the CAF or if those bonds supersede everything.”

“How do you know that?” Gaspare asked.

“Attend enough parties where the High Admirals are in attendance and you learn how the CAF works very well,” Fiera said. “I’ve heard High Admirals Dartle, Mercado, Claasen, and Aceves all say this, or a variation of it, in several conversations.”

“Did you not just say she kept silent about her clients’ secrets?” Kuen asked Gaspare.

“The High Admirals weren’t my clients. I see no reason not to talk about what I overhear at parties. That’s fair game. After all, any within hearing distance could repeat the same thing.” Fiera tapped her lips. “Who my clients were for those parties, and what was said between us? That is what I keep secret.”

For some reason her flippancy fanned the flames of rage in Kuen. “Nafisa may not have been my sister by blood, but she was the sister of my heart,” he growled. “Today is the anniversary of the single most asinine decision in my military career by the High Command, and you are a most unwanted interloper in my day. I will be required to endure your presence this evening at the party in order to keep Lady Benoit away from me. Beyond that? I do not wish to speak to you.”

“Fiera, have you seen the butterfly garden?” Gaspare asked, pushing away from the wall and holding out his arm to the obviously insulted courtesan.

“I have not,” Fiera said.

“Then let me take you on a walk through it. Kuen should probably go seclude himself for the night with that attitude of his. I am sure I can give his apologies to my mother since tonight is simply a gathering of some family friends. The real party is tomorrow night,” Gaspare said. “He can avoid being bothered by anyone while he wallows in his yearly self-pity party.” With that, the other two were gone.

Kuen slammed his fist into the wall. No one understood this side of him. No one could. People only saw what they wanted to see. Few ever saw a glimpse of the monster he really was. Even when they did, they dismissed it as him “just following orders.” Gaspare was one of the worst for thinking that.

Perhaps that was why he found it so much easier these days to follow Michi and Lakshmi’s orders. Be a cold, cruel, sadistic human being and bury the emotions beneath the ice in his heart. That was the only way to survive. Yet he knew, even as he ran his fingers over the phoenix brooch again, Nafisa would beat him bloody for having taken that lesson from her death.

It was perhaps fifteen minutes later when he felt sufficiently in control of himself to leave the office. He managed to reach his rooms without running into Gaspare’s numerous relatives. Kuen locked the door behind him, lit some incense, and settled into place cross legged on the floor. Nafisa taught him to meditate, and he’d stopped after her death. Perhaps it was time to resurrect that old habit.