Tytania:Volume 3 Chapter 1

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Chapter 1 – Following the Outbreak of War

I

Duke Ariabert Tytania greeted the first day of SY 447 in a frontier star system. It was the eternal darkness of outer space, separated from planet Bargash by a vacuum of 5.56 billion kilometres.

Two weeks prior, Emperor Harsha VI of the Interstellar Vardana Empire had declared war on the Bargash government. By imperial decree, Ariabert had set out on his campaign, commanding a fleet of 19,700 vessels large and small, and over three million soldiers. The pretext for the war was retaliation for the killing by the Bargash military of Zarlisch, one of the four dukes of Tytania alongside Ariabert.

While that pretext was not entirely false, their primary objective was to strip the Bargash government of the privileged position it had maintained within the frontier star systems. Although the Tytania Clan was, in name, subordinate to the Emperor of Vardana, in every aspect beyond mere formality, the vassal held superiority over its liege.

Ariabert’s face, which was said to be handsome yet lacking in character, had once been subject to the cold critique of being “the ideal beauty for a second-rate painter.” Even with the immense power of the Tytania, it had been impossible to silence every mouth. Ariabert’s mother had already passed away, but she was the younger sister of Duke Jouslain Tytania’s mother and was said to have been a beauty of such perfection that she evoked images of a “model for a successful plastic surgery”.

For some reason, beauty lacking individuality gave the impression of failing to convey any depth of spirit, so Ariabert’s true abilities were frequently underestimated. He reached the age of twenty-eight this year, yet with only one single exception in the past, he had always been favoured by the goddess of victory. It was only through this that he finally arrived at the level of recognition he deserved. This served as an example of the harsh reality that even among the Tytania nobility, respect was not accorded without proven ability and tangible achievements.

On this day, Count Elman Tytania, Ariabert’s diplomatic advisor, visited the enemy nation of Bargash aboard a cruiser.

It required no insight to see that Count Elman was not only a diplomatic advisor but also an observer dispatched by Clanner Ajman. Ariabert did not seek to be overly familiar with Count Elman, yet he did not shun him either. Since he had nothing to hide, his conduct remained entirely upright. It was perhaps that very lack of ambiguity that made his personality seem somewhat uninteresting. In any event, he had accepted the matter of the final negotiations that Count Elman had proposed the previous day.

“I realise this may be against your wishes, Lord Ariabert, but I would be most grateful if you would allow us to continue exploring the possibility of peace.”

“Count, it is not against my wishes. I would appreciate it if you would conduct as much negotiation as possible from your position. However, you do not have unlimited time.”

“May I ask for ten days?”

“One week.”

Once Count Elman accepted the conditions regarding the deadline, Ariabert lent him a cruiser and sent him on his way.

Vice-admiral Baldren and Rear-admiral Paulsen had already roamed the battlefields together with Ariabert as his staff officers for eight years. As Ariabert watched the point of light on the screen grow smaller, he spoke:

“Do you think the Bargash army will entrust full command of their forces to that Fan Hyulick?”

In response to the young duke’s question, Vice-admiral Baldren was the first to offer a negative view.

“I do not believe the Bargash army has lost so much confidence that they would hand command of their entire army to a band of exiled mercenaries.”

“Though they shall surely fall into such a state very soon.”

Rear-admiral Paulsen had a bellicose light shining in his eyes. At only twenty-seven years of age, his hair was cropped short, and his physique was robust. He gave the impression of being brimming with vigour. In contrast, Vice-admiral Baldren was thirty-eight. His thin cheeks and brown moustache gave him the air of a lawyer rather than a soldier.

“And if that clown Fan Hyulick decides to show his face without being invited, we shall teach him that flukes don’t happen twice.”

Rear-admiral Paulsen’s boast seemed to leave Ariabert feeling somewhat cynical.

“Losing is unavoidable, but do not lose with disgrace. Were you not told that as a child?”

“I was told that if you lose, all logic is blown out the window, so you should win first.”

Rear-admiral Paulsen puffed out his thick chest and glanced askance at him, while Vice-admiral Baldren gave a shrug of his shoulders in silence.

“Victory justifies itself. No need for loud propaganda. But for the loser to cry out that they haven’t lost is nothing short of a disgrace.”

Ariabert muttered. Although he had nearly achieved psychological reconstruction following his defeat, he could not bring himself to forget it.

The Tytania Army. Legally, it was the Strategic Mobile Force of the Vardana Empire’s military, and Ariabert Tytania served as its commander-in-chief. Naturally, his position and authority far exceeded the limits prescribed by national law.

In the extreme, the laws, institutions, and state apparatus of the Vardana Empire existed merely to ratify and justify the actions and interests of Tytania. Even the courtiers who were supposed to assist the Emperor moved mostly under the direction of Tytania. As for the Minister of Military Affairs, the position was held by none other than Lord Idris, one of the three Dukes of Tytania.

Tytania was not stingy. It never begrudged rewards to its collaborators, and many who had achieved even a modest, once-in-a-lifetime feat were treated with great generosity well into the generation of their grandchildren. There was once an unnamed medical student who saved the fourth Clanner through a blood transfusion. His life was adorned with such wealth and honour that he eventually committed suicide, unable to bear the weight of the gold leaf pressed upon his very being. Even though there were such a few tragic examples, Tytania nonetheless strove to materialise praise and gratitude in a physical dimension, and had succeeded in doing so effectively.

While Count Elman departed for planet Bargash, Ariabert reduced the relative distance to the target of invasion by 330 light-seconds, which was just under one hundred million kilometres. This military manoeuvre was something that could, in and of itself, constitute a political action. Behind Count Elman, as he negotiated with the Bargash government, the points of light upon the dark disc grew in size and intensity, poised to exert psychological pressure upon the high-ranking officials of the Bargash government.

As long as he remained awake, reports from communications officers were brought to Ariabert every fifteen minutes, informing him of the confusion and unrest within the Bargash government. They were reaching out in every direction, through alliances with other stars or peace efforts via mediation, yet they had not yet been able to reap any rewards.

Ariabert had observed this series of Bargash movements in silence. It was not an act of passivity, but rather the drawing of a bowstring to its absolute limit. As soon as the negotiation deadline expired, the Tytania forces under Ariabert’s command would launch an all-out offensive, intended to annihilate the main strength of the Bargash army within ten hours. Even though victory was already certain, there was no one left who would deign to listen to any peace proposals at this late stage.

Ariabert was a soldier of Tytania. He did not hesitate to subdue his opponents through force, even if doing so earned him the resentment of third parties. As the Clanner and supreme commander of Tytania, Ajman had once said:

“Tytania is not so brazen as to demand affection while exercising dominion. To be feared is more than enough.”

If there was any truth to the notion that the Tytania Clan lacked charm as far as their rulers go, it lay in that very perception. In Tytania’s philosophy, the idea of a “ruler beloved by the ruled” was nothing more than a joke. One could say that Tytania’s methods of governance were a quite classical application of the carrot and the stick. They provided practical benefits to collaborators and supporters while intimidating opponents with military force and authority. It was a simple equation: as long as the majority of those enjoying the benefits remained intact, the foundation of Tytania’s rule would remain unshakeable.

Those whose prosperity and stability were guaranteed by Tytania’s rule accepted the clan through the law of self-preservation, seeking to maintain the status quo, albeit with varying degrees of passivity or activity. “May this happiness last forever,” they would pray.

Thus, Tytania was poised to become the representative of the majority, the voice of the public and the common good, the ally of the people, and the embodiment of justice. Tytania, the patron saint protecting the peace, stability, and order of human society as a whole. If that were the case, then anyone who sought to overthrow Tytania would be an enemy of all mankind. This somewhat perverted conservatism, aimed at maintaining the status quo, was the greatest ally to Tytania’s permanence.

Ariabert had likely not been as sceptical as his cousin Jouslain, who was the same age as him. His very existence represented a positive aspect of Tytania’s rule, and no matter how acerbic a critic might be, they could not deny his bravery and integrity. He continued to wait for seven days. The very act of waiting until the deadline was what would grant legitimacy to his future actions.

And then came the eighth of January. The day the battle began. Not a single one of Bargash’s schemes had borne fruit.

II

Acting on the orders of Duke Ariabert Tytania, the mobile units of the Vardana Empire’s army commenced a full-scale invasion at the exact moment the peace negotiations expired. It was a lightning strike that lacked both mercy and compromise, as described by those who noted there was “not a single second of hesitation”; yet, from Ariabert’s perspective, he had already granted a reprieve of one hundred and sixty-eight hours. Since there had been no progress in diplomatic negotiations during that time, he seemed to be aware that it was, in fact, the very fact that he had refrained from using force for one hundred and sixty-eight hours that demonstrated a lack of resolve.

Although he had obtained the consent of Clanner Ajman, Ariabert’s decision could not be deemed wrong. However, even if an action is suitable for both political and military strategy, it does not mean that an individual’s psychological circumstances simply vanish. Like a massive arrow released from an invisible bowstring, the Tytanian army surged forward, meeting no resistance at all even after an hour had passed.

“Surely, they do not intend to refrain from fighting.”

Ariabert avoided giving an oral response to Rear-admiral Paulsen’s doubt. No information had ever reached the Tytania high command suggesting that the Bargash government were adherents of non-resistance pacifism. There were countless instances where they had used force to pursue their national interests whenever necessary.

While the current unfriendly situation had arisen from the untimely death of Duke Zarlisch Tytania, it appeared that Bargash had ultimately lacked the time required to complete an anti-Tytania grand alliance. The concept of an encirclement of Tytania by the various international organisations was certainly an attractive one, yet everyone sought to avoid the role of standing at the forefront. Since each party wished to toast to their survival whilst shedding tears for the sacrifices of others, an anti-Tytania grand alliance could only ever exist as a subject for a vivid painting, unless their individual egos could be sublimated in some manner.

The Tytania forces pressed further forward. As the sun of Bargash cast an orange glow on the port side of their course, just under twenty thousand silver points of light raced through the dark interstellar space. The formation was an orthodox spindle formation, with Ariabert’s flagship, the Golden Sheep, positioned near the very front. With only twenty-four cruisers and six battleships deployed ahead of it, it could be said that Ariabert was, quite literally, leading the vanguard.

On the 8^th of January, at 03:30, the first flashes of combat erupted. An unmanned Bargash patrol satellite had been destroyed by the main cannon of the cruiser Snow Panther 6.

As he watched the white glare of the fusion reactor explosion on the bridge screens, Ariabert did not appear particularly uplifted. His focus was concentrated entirely on the impending decisive battle between the main fleets, so the destruction of a mere patrol satellite was not enough to unsettle him. Under the command of such a composed commander-in-chief, the Tytania forces charged towards planet Bargash, literally venturing into uncharted territory.

On the 8^th of January, at 22:09, a cruiser approaching from the direction of the planet Bargash was detected. The cruiser, which had opened its communication circuits and flashed signals to ensure its discovery as it drew closer, was the vessel carrying Count Elman Tytania. Upon welcoming him to the flagship, Ariabert celebrated his safe return. Neither man spoke of the fact that Ariabert had commenced the full-scale invasion before Count Elman had returned. Both bore their respective responsibilities. That was all there was to it. Count Elman spoke:

“The Bargash government has stated they will make the utmost concessions for the sake of peace. They intend to enter negotiations with the aim of accepting all the peace terms presented by His Clanner Highness at the end of last year.”

“Including the right to vet the qualifications for the locators?”

“It is a difficult pill for them to swallow, but they are considering it.”

“Considering?!”

Ariabert gave a short laugh. To anyone’s eyes, he was by no means an “unpleasant man”, yet he was still capable of producing a laugh that was thoroughly Tytanian.

“I see no need for considering it any further.”

Ariabert did not particularly raise his voice, but the effect it had on Count Elman was as if a whip had lashed through the air and passed before his very eyes.

“Under normal circumstances, we should have entered into combat a week ago. The reason we waited until today was that I did not wish to abandon the possibility of a diplomatic resolution until the very end. It was precisely for that reason that I asked you to take such a risk, Count Elman.”

With a silent, expressionless face, Count Elman nodded.

“The entire responsibility for being forced into combat lies with the Bargash government. At such a late stage, what benefit is there in proposing a peace plan that consists of nothing but empty words? If there is any benefit at all, it is merely the one-sided advantage of the Bargash government buying time with dishonest intentions.”

“I wonder what profit the Bargash government stands to gain by merely buying time.”

Count Elman had posed the question with great courtesy, yet he was at least in part asking it to himself. This was true for Ariabert as well. Those who held authority within Tytania always needed to be prepared to prove their own competence. Should the Bargash government eventually succumb to the military might of Tytania, Count Elman would be the one to lead the practical operations of the peace conference, a role that any other person could just as easily fulfil. Having been granted a seat in a corner of the bridge, Count Elman declined the coffee offered to him and requested herbal tea instead. He then began to speak of the Bargash government’s response, as if merely engaging in casual conversation.

“They said that it was appalling to commence an attack before the peace negotiations had concluded. I can certainly understand how they might feel.”

“I shall listen to your grievances in due course. It is a pity, but diplomats must always clean up after boorish soldiers. I am glad I became a soldier instead.”

Ariabert’s joke was not even one ten-thousandth as clever as his military strategy. He changed the subject.

It concerned Fan Hyulick and the Blaze Flag Army. Though they were originally exiles, they were supposed to have been incorporated into the Bargash Regular Army. While they were not a significant military force, Count Elman believed he knew the reason Ariabert could not simply ignore them.

“Does it concern you, Lord Ariabert?”

“It does.”

With his malicious question answered so easily, Count Elman found himself exerting a minute effort to control his expression. The man who had inflicted Ariabert’s only defeat in his entire life was the exile Fan Hyulick. By the singular fact of having defeated Ariabert, the name Fan Hyulick had been etched into the memories of his contemporaries. It was a proper noun that should have been unpleasant to Ariabert many times over.

“I see, Lord Ariabert. It appears that the breadth of your mind might be greater than that of Lord Idris. Lord Idris’ pride has always outweighed the virtue of straightforwardness…”

Count Elman did not voice his inner thoughts. There was no guarantee that the time to revise those thoughts would never come. For the future was not merely a simple extension of the present, and the possibility for change was infinite.

“It is likely that Fan Hyulick’s faction is lying low somewhere on the planet, waiting for the storm to pass. I do not know anything more. At least, not for now.”

“If they are merely hiding, we need not fear. A famed sword is only useful if it is wielded. If left buried in the earth, it does nothing but rust.”

Ariabert gazed at the screen. Count Elman cleared his throat.

“This is merely my personal opinion, but the Bargash government may be intending to detain them, only to hand them over to us at the final moment to establish a peace built upon their sacrifice.”

“They are free to think what they wish, but we have no need to comply.”

An unpleasant tremor tainted Ariabert’s voice. His fastidiousness as a warrior made it impossible for him not to loathe such a solution. If he placed the highest value solely on the reduction of bloodshed, he would have chosen the path of a diplomat. There were plenty of things in this world that could not be resolved through military force. The duty imposed upon Ariabert’s office should have been to efficiently resolve matters that fell within the scope of what could be settled by arms.

As Count Elman took a sip of his second cup of herbal tea, a report from a reconnaissance officer reached Ariabert. A fleet numbering in the thousands was cruising at a ten o’clock position relative to the allied fleet. “Should we divert forces to engage them?” asked the officer.

“Unnecessary! It’s a diversion.”

Ariabert’s response was clear. Given the total strength of the Bargash army, a strategy designed to pincer the Tytania forces was simply impossible. It would have achieved nothing more than the dispersal of their already limited numbers, which ran contrary to the fundamental principles of troop deployment. He did not believe the Bargash leadership was so incompetent as to commit such a foolish error. If they were to act in such a manner, it would have been more likely that they were preserving their strength to await a better opportunity another day.

Another day? A bitter smile flickered at the corner of Ariabert’s lips. Did the Tytania central leadership truly believe that such a day would be granted to Bargash? Nothing but a fate of absolute subjugation awaited them. Or were they perhaps weaving some scheme that far exceeded the predictions of Ariabert and his men? It was a well-known fact that the military might of Bargash could not be considered an equal to that of Tytania. From Tytania’s perspective, the true essence of a lion lay in using its full strength even to hunt a mere rabbit; yet, to the rabbit, the match must have seemed unfair from the very beginning. It was only natural that they would attempt to trip the lion with cunning. Conversely, the lion must ensure that the rabbit would never be granted the opportunity to employ such guile.

Thus, on the 9^th of January, at 16:40, the Tytania forces reached the orbital path of planet Bargash and secured complete air superiority. Not a single drop of blood was shed. Up to that point, at least.

III

On the 10^th of January, from 00:00, the surface of planet Bargash was subjected to fierce bombardment by the Tytania forces for a duration of four hours. Targets were carefully selected, ensuring that civilian facilities, residences, and infrastructure were excluded. The Tytania forces could not afford to incite hostility among the citizens of Bargash, nor could they allow production facilities to be destroyed, for they intended to collect enormous reparations.

For Tytania, war was a political act as much as it was an economic one. The military facilities of the enemy camp were literally annihilated, allowing the group of companies under Tytania’s umbrella to monopolise the reconstruction of the facilities and the supply of military goods after the fact. There had been similar examples among the great powers of the past, but Tytania linked the destruction caused by war with post-war reconstruction into a single system, ensuring that they secured interests throughout every stage and outcome of the process. In this regard, even if Tytania claimed it was a “just war”, it was by no means a falsehood. This was because, for Tytania, the pursuit of profit was justice itself.

The attack targets—eight military spaceports, anti-aircraft fire control centres, military satellite remote control centres, four military spacecraft construction factories, and sixty other locations in total—were completely destroyed, in the most literal sense of the word. After launching three thousand Uranium-238 missiles, and while flames and black smoke still smouldered, the Tytania forces carried out their landing, eventually forcing the Bargash government to capitulate. On the surface, it was a total victory.

However, it soon became known that it was a lie. Bargash’s space forces were nowhere to be found on the surface; only the facilities had been destroyed, and furthermore, Fan Hyulick and his faction were nowhere to be seen. To their conquerors, the Bargash government gave a shameless explanation: that Fan Hyulick and his men had seized the Bargash fleet and fled, and they denied having anything to do with them.

“How cunning…” muttered Ariabert under his breath.

At the same moment, a sense of unease, which could only be described as strange, stirred in a corner of his usually stable mind. He wondered whose plan the Bargash government’s stratagem, which was undoubtedly cunning, had followed. The first names to come to mind were those of Fan Hyulick or the high command of the Blaze Flag Army.

Leading the ground forces and accompanied by Count Elman, Ariabert entered the Bargash Central Administration and presented his demands to Corvin, the Minister of Foreign Affairs and the representative for the negotiations.

“In that case, I shall request that you disclose the whereabouts of Fan Hyulick and the Blaze Flag Army.”

“To be honest, therein lies the problem…”

The attitude of Corvin, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, was one of deep subservience. Just as when he had visited Uraniborg the other day as an envoy for peace negotiations, his mannerism was one of servility and incompetence wrapped in a bureaucratic shell. But although it appeared he might die of shame from a single reprimand from Tytania, Count Elman sensed an unexpected tenacity in him.

The negotiations continued for over an hour without a single concrete concession being made. They did nothing but politely repeat apologies and excuses, which, when their claims were distilled, amounted to nothing more than, “We know nothing of it, we are victims ourselves.” Had it been the late Duke Zarlisch Tytania, he would have slammed his fist onto the desk and erupted in fury, but such a thing was impossible for Ariabert. Concealing his contempt and anger beneath a veil of etiquette, he declared the futility of the negotiations and confirmed one matter before rising from his seat.

“If they are apprehended, they shall be dealt with severely under the laws of the Vardana Empire. I trust your government has no objections to this?”

“Of course not. Their foolishness also tarnishes the dignity of Bargash. While it is painful to endure, there is no better way to express that we have no choice if we are to maintain peace and order throughout the entire universe. This matter deeply shames us…”

The response from the Bargash government was the very pinnacle of both courtesy and vacuity. The faces of Corvin and the rest of the delegation were marked with countless signs of insincerity, and the young staff officers, led by Rear-Admiral Paulsen, were forced to exert considerable effort to restrain their desire for violent retaliation. They pleaded incessantly with their commander-in-chief, Lord Ariabert, for punishment against the Bargash government’s duplicity, but Ariabert did not respond.

Though gripped by bitter resentment, Ariabert was a man far removed from outbursts or explosions of temper. He sought to uphold diplomatic etiquette toward the Bargash government to the greatest extent possible. However, what made him a Tytanian was his understanding that the “greatest extent” and the “infinite” were not synonymous, and his awareness that even should he erupt, it must be done with careful consideration of timing and effect.

“If that is what they wish, then so be it. We shall proceed in the Tytanian manner,” murmured Ariabert to himself.

It was on the 1^st of January that Clanner Ajman received the report from Ariabert at Uraniborg, the seat of the Tytania Clan. The Clanner was at a breakfast gathering, accompanied by two dukes, Lord Jouslain and Lord Idris.

The silk tablecloth, the finest porcelain and silverware, the eggs, bread, butter, and bacon—every item had been selected with an almost obsessive consideration for both flavour and nutrition. It should have been an ideal breakfast, yet Duke Jouslain Tytania found his appetite entirely uninspired. The most essential seasoning—a sense of camaraderie and light-hearted conversation—was sorely lacking from this elegant table. The Clanner brought up the report from Bargash that had arrived that morning.

“Lord Ariabert is an orthodox military strategist and a man of sincere character. The Bargash government would likely deem it foolish to engage him in a head-on battle.”

“It is an unusual stratagem rather than an ingenious one. That is precisely why Lord Ariabert was caught off guard. I believe he had no other choice.”

If Idris’ remarks sounded tolerant, it was only because they were filtered through a sense of superiority. He was the Minister of Military Affairs of the Vardana Empire at a young age, and with Zarlisch now deceased, he stood in a position to share leadership of Tytania’s military operations with Ariabert. While Ariabert’s failure or stagnation did not directly grant Idris an advantage, they did serve as a source of minimal psychological amusement.

Perhaps it would have been better if he had accompanied Ariabert on the expedition to Bargash. Jouslain felt a slight sense of anxiety and regret. Since he was of equal rank to Ariabert, he had feared being in a position to unduly influence his cousin’s military authority; yet, perhaps it would have been better if he had handled the Bargash government himself, allowing Ariabert to focus solely on military matters.

“If things were to proceed as bloodlessly as this, I might as well have taken command… though, in that case, the Bargash army would likely have simply challenged us to a head-on naval battle.”

For the past several years, Jouslain had lacked experience in commanding large armies in decisive, direct confrontations with the enemy. The division of labour “Lord Ariabert for military matters, Lord Jouslain for politics” had been a natural arrangement for them. Rather, men like Idris possessed practical experience in both spheres. While the division of roles between Ariabert and Jouslain appeared to have been rewarded by a solid track record of success so far, it remained a seed of anxiety that felt almost like a needless worry.

When Tytania’s vast and complex networks split into civil and military factions, might the two men not be propelled by their respective parties into a confrontation? Such whispers existed both within and without Uraniborg, and even with all the power of Tytania, it was impossible to eradicate such microscopic rumours.

Idris cast a venomous glance towards Jouslain while feigning complete indifference. Jouslain, for his part, had to pretend to have ignored it. He turned his gaze toward the Clanner and made his proposal.

“Your Clanner Highness, if you would grant me permission, I, Jouslain, shall travel to Bargash to assist Lord Ariabert.”

“Hmm. I wonder if Lord Ariabert might feel his authority is being encroached upon.”

“I have no concerns regarding that matter.”

Ariabert isn’t Idris. Jouslain wisely refrained from voicing this thought aloud. Idris increased the amount of venom contained within his gaze. Clanner Ajman casually picked up his coffee cup, the colour of the liquid, blacker than the abyss of night, reflected in his eyes.

“I wonder what Lord Ariabert’s aides might think. Would they not feel that their superior’s competence is being questioned? It would not be fitting for a man like you, Lord Jouslain, to fail to consider such a point.”

There was a note of cold mockery in the Clanner’s voice. Idris’ lips curled into a biting crescent, but he was wise enough to hold his tongue. It seemed that, quite unintentionally, Jouslain had contributed to his cousin’s enjoyment of the morning.

“I was thoughtless. Please forgive my lack of maturity.”

“No need to apologise. Besides, Lord Jouslain, the fact that you failed to consider this is surely because you truly empathise with Lord Ariabert’s position. Political considerations are always impure.”

The aroma of coffee rose from the cup held by the Clanner. And from Idris’ cup as well. Although they could not have been in accord, the reason it felt as though they shared the same miasma lay in Jouslain’s own psyche. This morning’s coffee tasted bitter across his entire nervous system.

Was it really so unpleasant to have been slighted by the Clanner, even if only temporarily? Was he satisfied merely by being held in high regard by the Clanner? In the end, was his way of life really any different from that of a low-ranking official, who spent his time gauging his superior’s mood and oscillating between joy and despair at every change in expression? Jouslain’s introspection led directly to a mild sense of self-loathing. This could not be described as a healthy state of mind for him.

IV

Having finished the breakfast meeting, Jouslain would normally have headed straight to his office, but instead, he altered his course and made his way towards his psychotherapy room. The owner of that room was a young girl who would celebrate her eleventh birthday within the year, known to the public as Princess Lydia of the Kingdom of Elbing. Although legally she was Jouslain’s ward, mentally, they appeared to be equals.

Princess Lydia, who had also just finished her breakfast, greeted her guardian with great vigour. Whether by someone’s design or not, everything from her small ribbons to her socks had been unified in shades of green, making her look like a young witch frolicking through a forest of fresh greenery. The two of them travelled together to the Second Spaceport. The observation deck there served as the favourite debating ground for this peculiar pair.

“If one must resort to trickery in order to defeat Lord Ariabert, then even I would do so. The disparity in strength would be simply too great to fight square and fair.”

Jouslain acknowledged Princess Lydia’s opinion regarding the situation facing Lord Ariabert. For Tytania to demand that their enemies fight fairly and honourably could be seen as an arrogant imposition by the powerful. It was a scene akin to a giant being expected to duel an infant. Flicking her finger against the surface of the transparent wall, Princess Lydia fell into thought for several seconds before finally withdrawing her hand and asking:

“Would Lord Ariabert be capable of killing an opponent who offers no resistance?”

“He would not, I expect.”

“Could he kill women or children?”

“I don’t suppose he could.”

“Could he attack hospitals or schools?”

“No,” repeated Jouslain. Princess Lydia moved her fingers once more. It appeared she was drawing something upon the surface of the transparent wall.

“Lord Ariabert is a good man, but it will be to his detriment if it becomes known. Do you not agree, Lord Jouslain?”

“A keen insight; I am impressed.”

Jouslain bowed respectfully. Though he had spoken in jest, he was inwardly impressed. Princess Lydia’s political insight was far beyond the reach of an ordinary adult. When Tytania stood preeminent and powerful across the entire universe, possessing the luxury to display tolerance and moderation, Ariabert’s chivalrous integrity would be an ideal quality for a leader. However, if an opponent had discarded their white gloves to don soiled ones right from the start, he might find himself caught off guard.

Princess Lydia gazed solemnly at her fingertips, which she had withdrawn from the transparent wall.

“There is but one thing that concerns me.”

“What is it, Princess?”

As Jouslain cast an interested gaze upon her, Princess Lydia tilted her head slightly. It seemed she was choosing her words with great care.

“If the Clan, uhh, if the Clanner were to order Lord Ariabert to kill women and children, would Lord Ariabert obey that command?”

Jouslain looked back at the Princess as he replied, though his tone might have been somewhat professorial.

“Princess, Lord Ariabert is a noble of Tytania. And for Tytania, the orders of the Clanner are absolute.”

“Absolute, is it?”

“If they were not, it would not be Tytania.”

Jouslain could not bring himself to offer Princess Lydia a false reply. He felt that doing so would be dishonest to the intelligent young girl. Tytania was not an organisation that placed humanity as its highest value and pursued it above all else. They would uphold humanitarian principles only when they judged it to be to their advantage. Jouslain’s decision to protect Princess Lydia, despite there being no profit in it, was at present due solely to his own personal sentiments.

“And what of you, Lord Jouslain? If the Clanner gave you an order, would you obey it?”

He had fully expected that question. Nevertheless, Jouslain found himself unable to answer immediately. He had yet to find a final answer regarding the possibility of the coexistence of sitting upon a tower of power and upholding the dignity of a common human being. It was a question he had continued to ponder since his boyhood, and yet he had failed to reach a conclusion.

“I do not know.”

After a period of deep contemplation, he answered:

“I may refuse to accept being of Tytania, but perhaps I will be unable to do so. It is regrettable that I cannot answer with full confidence, but I intend to do everything in my power to ensure the Clanner is not compelled to issue such an order.”

Tytania had been harsh, utilitarian, and ruthless up until now, but they had never been unnecessarily cruel to the common citizenry. They had never been driven to such an extremity. Until now, that is.

“So even you, Lord Jouslain, do not know yourself.”

“Regrettably not.”

“And yet, you claim to understand Lord Ariabert?”

Princess Lydia’s question left Jouslain speechless. It was an unexpected psychological blow. In other words, was Jouslain unconsciously looking down upon his maternal cousin of the same age? Was the belief that he could insightfully perceive Ariabert’s psyche, even while his own remained unreadable to him, nothing more than groundless arrogance?

Of course, this applied not only to Ariabert but to Idris as well. Jouslain believed that if the responsibility for humanitarian matters could be placed upon the Clanner, then Idris would not hesitate to engage in destruction or slaughter. However, no such precedent existed. Perhaps it was merely Jouslain’s own prejudice.

“Did I offend you, Lord Jouslain?”

A somewhat worried voice drifted into Jouslain’s consciousness, and the young Tytania high noble returned to the real world. He met the gaze of the young girl, which seemed to be scrutinising his face.

“No, quite the opposite. You have given me a wonderful hint. I shall keep it in mind from now on.”

“Hmm. You truly do treat a child as a fully-fledged adult, Lord Jouslain.”

Princess Lydia let her expression break.

“There are many mysterious things about you, Lord Jouslain. That is what I like about you. Oh, and by mysterious, I do not mean strange or odd.”

“I understand.”

Jouslain smiled as well, and a certain thought came to mind. He made a request to the Princess. He had considered this the other night, but he felt it would be beneficial if Princess Lydia could send a mail to Viscount Balamy Tytania, who had been driven away from Uraniborg due to a trivial incident. It would aid in his mental stability.

“Could I ask this of you, Princess?”

“I do not mind. I have been wanting to write to Bal anyway. But do you think it will be effective?”

“It certainly will.”

After making that calm assertion, Jouslain added jokingly:

“Lord Balamy is an individual who will carry the future of Tytania on his shoulders. If you place him in your debt, it will be of great benefit to your homeland.”

“I wonder if Bal will even perceive it as a favour.”

Princess Lydia laughed, as if mocking the logic of an adult, and turned her gaze towards the regular vessels docked at the Second Spaceport. Beside her, Jouslain also gazed at the ships that traversed the galaxy.

“It appears that as long as even a single person remembers them, humans can endure both idleness and isolation. I am certain he will be pleased.”

He stopped his sentence there, wishing to keep the topic on the level of generalities. The sharp-witted Princess Lydia held a flicker of interest and suspicion in her eyes, but what she said of was something else entirely.

“In that case, I shall write to ask how Bal is faring. I hope he is well.”

“If you get some news about him, please let me know as well.”

Princess Lydia looked up at Jouslain, then skipped forward about three steps along the polished, wide corridor.

“My fees are quite high.”

“Tytania is not known for being stingy, Princess.”

“That is true. As long as it remains generous, Tytania shall continue to enjoy the support of many.”

Had an adult spoken in a sombre tone, such a remark might have been perceived as nothing more than an expression of malice. However, when Princess Lydia uttered those words with such a spirited tone, it sounded like a clear and precise observation regarding the very nature of Tytania. Jouslain could not help but nod in sincere agreement, along with a wry smile. Truly, who could ever desire or find joy in a stingy Tytania?…

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