Neither Brutus nor I say much during our trip to my father’s ship. I largely pass the time against the window, staring out at the vast starry seas. Occasionally, I glance over at Brutus, who hunches over with twiddling thumbs. Even as the shuttle lands, we depart without a word and wait around in the hub for the other lieutenants. At first, there is nobody sent by the Don to greet us. Aside from the occasional bay’s crew hauling things around, who gives Brutus and I brief salutes before continuing with busywork. It would seem we arrived earlier—or rather, in a timely manner than the other lieutenants. I don’t recognize any of the shuttles that are present as belonging to them, but I imagine they will arrive soon.

“It’s rather chilly in here, isn’t it?” Brutus murmurs, roughly stroking his arms “you’re not cold at all, Madame?”

“Oh, that’s right,” I remark “you haven’t been on the Montepuez at all, have you?” Brutus shakes his head. He cups his hands over his mouth and attempts to keep himself warm. “I never would’ve thought you would be so susceptible to coldness,” Brutus glares at me as if to question ‘is that another jab at me being fat?’ But shrugs while shivering. “If you’re that cold, I don’t mind giving you my poncho,” I say taking one arm out of the jacket. Brutus glares at me again and shakes his head.

“I think I’ll live. That thing is practically a security blanket for you,” Brutus bitterly says, his stiff hands cupped over his mouth again. I tilt my head and tap my scarred chin.

“Security blanket?” I ask warmly. The question goes uncalled, however, as I realize shuttles are approaching the Montepuez and entering its runaway lines. Compared to the Castelforte, the Montepuez hub stations are rather smaller, so we duck and sprint over to the sidelines to give the crafts some space to land. The smaller area density also means engine fumes are an issue, so I cover my face with my leathery cloak to prevent my eyes and mature tissue from burning. Briefly turning my attention to Brutus, I crack a wincing grin, “here’s your newfound warmth, Brutus,” the giant oaf only grunts in response.

From the looks of things, it appears that the first to arrive is Darcy, with her lieutenants in tow. Though, Richter is not among them, leaving me to surmise that the mullet-man is in the subsequent shuttle preparing to land. Darcy and her men rush over to us while choking at the harsh engine smoke and waving the mist away. After the conditions improve, Darcy and her men are quick to present themselves with chest-salutes. Brutus and I return the favor shortly afterward.

“Madame, Brutus,” the red-haired subordinate remarks, shifting her attentive gaze at us, an earnest smile.

“You did great work,” I remark warmly “it would seem I made a good decision to have you act as captain in Che’s stead,” Darcy gushes and twirls her bangs. “Once we return to Lübeck, remind me to reward you and your men handsomely, I think you and everyone else deserve it for your merits,” my wincing smile turns into a frown “and as for the men at Malabo and Baltit, I shall pay them visits eventually. They suffered more than all of us combined…” I grit my teeth “to face Legionnaires head-on without any chance of relief—it frustrates me so. If I have arrived a second sooner…” Darcy steps forward, clasping her warm hands over me and raising them to chest-level. As if knowing trying to express facial features causes me mild pain, she smiles in my stead.

“I’m sure Che’s men would appreciate the kindness… Che himself did an outstanding job. I know you have a dislike of the man, but for everyone’s sake, go easy on him when you see him,” her hands tighten “I think he deserves some slack,” Darcy says reassuringly. I raise my head to look Darcy in the eyes and return a pained smile.

“I think there’s some slight misunderstanding of how I feel towards my brother. But I appreciate the words nonetheless. Darcy, from the bottom of my heart, thank you,” I take a step back and approach her lackeys, who seem bewildered at my sudden advance. They all take a step back as if concerned for their safety. I clasp my hands together at the waist and bow slightly. The men hesitantly murmur but say nothing.

“Thank you, all of you, for your heroic deeds,” I say softly, before bowing all the way “it is not much, but please take this gesture as a token of my gratitude. All of this has happened because of my miscalculations in the grand scheme of things. I’ve left all of you to fend for yourself, in the darkest shade of despair and without hope.

“And yet, you have resisted all the same against the enemy, You, and your fallen brethren have held out until there was nothing left to give but your blood and sweat; when abandonment sighed through your ranks. And yet, if my brother and your men did not subject themselves to bitter resistance, and instead taken the easier way out through surrender—then the battle would have surely been lost,” I recompose myself and gradually approach each subordinate. I look each timid man in the eyes as I earnestly give each one a handshake and a pat on the shoulder.

“Without your sacrifices…” I smile softly “success would have only fantasy at Baltitand Malabo —even if I suppose it was all done with a heavy price. A price I must pay for the subordinates I’ve lost, and a responsibility I must bear alone.” All the men avert their gazes, some close their eyes, and most simply nod and give stern salutes. Afterward, I excuse myself from the men and walk towards Darcy and Brutus.

“Thank you, Madame,” Darcy says with a nod, looking past me at her subordinates.

“It’s the most I can do for now,” I reply “After whatever it is my father wants, I want to award everyone for their merits—though, frankly, I am not sure if the Don will permit most of it,” I remark grimacing “it will rob me of my fortunes, but if it’s for my men—and yours, or rather, the men of Baltit and Malabo —then it’s a headache I am willing to undergo,” with one last pat on Darcy’s shoulder, I turn my attention to the next captain—Richter, who has been waiting nearby with arms behind his back, sly smirk.

I approach Richter and give him the usual formalities, along with the appreciation of his hard work which the middle-aged captain accepts with sincerity. “If you don’t find the subject too sensitive, Richter,” I ask, guiding him towards the other captains, “do you believe you managed to honor Emmanuel’s memory?” The middle-aged man stops to look out the windows for a brief moment, before averting his gaze to my feet.

“I gave the Federation more than enough hell—more than what is humanly possible. I still feel it is what he would have wanted. Even before Abassi,” Richter tersely clears his throat “even when the two of us were young and idiotic, he was stubborn about Federation advances into our criminal empire. And like Jung, he was bitter about the whole abandoning of our enterprises in Merica,” Richter scoffs as he continues speaking “how I wish Emmanuel could have seen you obliterate those Federation formations,Madame. I imagine he would’ve given a vigorous toast to their retreat,” Richter’s smirk sags into a frown “—and as regrettable as it is, fate betrayed him at his finest hour,” his shifty eyes lock with mine “I can only hope that a farewell toast will finally let him rest peace—as well as a proper burial,” Richter remarks somberly. I give my nod while stroking the crimson bandanna of Julius.

“Do you want me to assist in Emmanuel’s burial, or do you believe that is something you want to do yourself?” I ask as Richter turns away.

“You must have enough on your plate already, Madame,” Richter replies, stroking the back of his mullet “but there are some things your subordinates have to do of their own accord, without outside help. This is one of them, I think Dontae, as well as the former men of the Kafraiya, can agree on as well.”

“I see…” I murmur stroking the bandanna “if you need my assistance, Richter, you know, er…” I wince a frown “not to be a stranger. You know I am too conscious about my subordinates’ welfare,” I say. Richter takes a few paces toward me with a smile, his back to the others.

“I will keep it in mind Madame,” Richter says out of earshot of the others “but for what it’s worth, in times like these there is only so much you can accomplish by showering your subordinates with wealth,” he pauses and looks back at Darcy’s men making their way back into the shuttle “for the weaker-minded ones, however, they will accept whatever you give them.

“However, most appreciate the gratitude and value little speeches as you did either,” Richter nods his head “for the wiser ones, the use of wealth is seen as a cheap-stake tactic in retaining a lasting impression,” Richter takes a moment to sigh “I believe what I’m getting at is dangling a carrot over them can only be so effective. The more you use it as a crutch, the less likely they will be convinced by your so-called concern over their welfare.”

“A sense of gratitude, huh?” I muse, stroking my disfigured cheek “I truly do have a long way to go, it seems.” Richter shrugs his shoulders and faces the gathering group of people. Following his gaze, I realize more lesser-ranked lieutenants are disembarking from shuttles, but I do not make out any familiar faces, like Jung Lee or Sergi. A sly chuckle from Richter redirects my attention.

“Don’t mind my ramblings, though. It’s just something to keep in mind. If the men are happy with the illusion that you care about them, then I have no doubt you shouldn’t worry about it,” Richter glances over at me with a heartfelt smile “the men you inherited from Simon have always looked up to you as a capable leader. They have served you for years, even before Abassi, have they not?” After a brief thought I nod, “if they didn’t respect you or even acknowledge your glamorous claims of wealth, I imagine many would not willingly put their lives at stake for your sake.”

“I can’t say I appreciate the sentiment of you believing I don’t genuinely care about my men, Richter,” I reply warmly, brushing my bangs and stroking the scar above my eyebrow “because I certainly do,” Richter rubs his neck with a defeatist smile and shrugs “I reward the men within my means to do so. If they desire something other than the simple vastness of wealth, I would be more than happy to accommodate their needs.

“I simply want what’s best for my men, and I don’t want them to feel like their merits go unnoticed. I imagine that’s a feeling most of them likewise share; they want to be valued and appreciated. I don’t want them to think that I wouldn’t otherwise,” I conclude stroking my scarred nose bridge. Richter acknowledges with a silent nod. “That aside, considering you either served under Simon or my father, who would you say treated their subordinates better? Their welfare?” I ask peeking at Richter, who looks behind him at the hanger’s doors as if cautious about the Don walking in any moment now. It’s a question I might’ve already know, but I feel hearing it firsthand from an experienced man such as Richter will help clear any doubts I have.

“The men’s welfare, huh?” Richter muses, his eyes narrow “back then—after the Araki days, Zhui held contempt for the men under him—he saw them… or us rather—as expendable thugs. Young or old, he threw whoever under the bus to save his ass. The only one that was exempt from that was Jung and Simon.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” I reply dryly “and neither you nor Emmanuel received the same treatment?” Out of the corner of my eye, Richter crosses his arms, again looking behind him at the hanger’s entrances, followed by a glance at Darcy and Brutus. Finally, he gives a reluctant nod.

“Zhui was a terrible man then,” the elderly man tersely states “he was drunk on power and was no better than the wicked Araki. If you weren’t in Zhui’s clique—then you had no hope in moving up in the fleet,” Richter sighs with pained eyes “appointments were rather whimsical— when they happened —and many were careful to avoid his wrath—since he was quick to demote those that might undermine his authority, and worst yet,” Richter winces “make you disappear entirely.

“But as the fleet grew, Zhui did grow a little soft…” Richter scoffs and I can’t help but find the idea incomprehensible “affairs became far less personal, it became increasingly difficult for the Triumvirate…”

“Triumvirate?” I repeat cocking my head. There is a brief pause by Richter before the middle-aged man continues.

“The most influential were Simon, Zhui, and to an extent Jung—he was far less involved in the fleet’s inner-workings. In any case, Simon and Zhui were incapable…” Richter stops to look behind him before contemplating in silence “neither of them was prepared for the surge of wanderlust that swelled our ranks by the end of the two-hundreds. It reached a point where Zui couldn’t be everywhere and manage the overall state of affairs. When it came to his attention regarding increasing rapport with the men, Zhui often shrugged and let men divide spoils themselves. Sometimes, Zhui did promote some of his longtime followers to captain positions, if only because Simon desired decentralization.

“This also satisfied the Triumvirate’s desire to maintain loyalty and cement their authority” Richter pauses and smirks “in some ways, your style of leadership reminds me of Simon’s; he would also spoil his men with promises of wealth and encouraging words. In some rarer cases, Zhui did give Simon permission to promote some men because of their talents.”

“Promotion by merit, huh?” I muse “I never gave it much thought about promoting any officers myself—aside from Dontae, and perhaps Darcy,” a slight frown “truthfully, given how many serve me and the exploits we accomplished today, I have not the slightest idea how I would promote some without upsetting others… did you and Emmanuel become captains around this time?”

“I wouldn’t blame you for finding the decision overwhelming. Even back then, the Triumvirate faced a similar dilemma after its rise in the Zonal and Ruthenian regions. That aside, I was captain for most of the Dong Fleet’s existence. And as for Emmanuel…” Richter closes his eyes, and exhales heavily through his nose “there was a mass retaliation against Zhui and Simon for the late captain Araki’s death. In the bloody aftermath, a dozen men like me were appointed as replacements—partly out of merit, partly out of perceived loyalty.

“But Emmanuel was a bit of a peculiar case—he did act as a confidant to Araki but fell out of the wicked man’s favor,” I follow Richter’s gaze at a particular shuttle slowly aligning to the Montepuez’s runway lights before continuing “thus, the Triumvirate had their suspicions of him. But Emmanuel proved he had no conspiracy against them, and he was instated as a captain a year or two after Araki’s death.”

“I have to wonder,” I ask “if Emmanuel still retained his position by this Araki’s side, would the ploy to mutiny succeed—would Simon and the Don still attempt it, do you think?” I look over at Richter, curiously rubbing his chin “did you participate in the uprising yourself?” The sage captain deflates slowly through his nose, his eyes trained on the shuttle beginning a snailish descent at an open landing pad.

“It would have been an interesting scenario, I would say. It could have gone one of two ways: Emmanuel realizing the odds and defecting to the Simon camp,” Richter continues “or helping to agitate a violent skirmish. As for myself, I remained on the sides of the coup. Though Jung did give me the order to remain on standby with his mistress. But it was one he retracted; Jung believed it would bring unwanted attention to civilians like her,” Richter pauses to sigh “of course, it came as a shock when they involved innocents regardless.”

“Considering what did happen, the outcome would be no different,” I refute as Richter gives me a surprised glance “Black Friday… I believe that’s what Simon or Jung once told me the incident is referred to as. At least a hundred casualties, maybe less. Fa—I believe that’s what her name was—would’ve been involved even if Emmanuel remained a confidant and opposed the conspiracy against Araki.

“But that does beg the question; who instigated the counter-coup?” Richter’s eyes widen for a moment and he turns away from me “even if Araki tossed Emmanuel aside… there’s a possibility he felt my father’s mutiny was undeserving.” Richter, who has been crossing his arms, lets his arms drop freely for a while before ponderously stroking his chin.

“Emmanuel…” Richter partially faces me, eyes to the shuttle and its disembarking shuttle—among them the admirable Beatrice. My eyes glance back at Richter, expecting him to continue, but he merely continues to frown.

“I’m sorry,” I state tersely “you don’t have to answer that… I should’ve realized this would be a sensitive topic for you. I do not mean to cast the late captain in a bad light,” I take a step forward “he has served me—the Mafia, well. I would not let one’s actions from even before my time change my opinion of him.”

“Even after all these years,” Richter replies wryly “it remains a mystery to me. None of us were ever able to seek who the ringleaders were. The incident was personal for Simon and Jung—they acted irrational and had no patience to find the conspirators. Emmanuel, was, of course, a prime suspect of sorts—” Richter’s gaze shifts to me “but I argued that he was innocent. And I stood by that reasoning for many years. I did not want to doubt my best mate. I reasoned that he had nothing to gain from a reprisal. Araki was dead: killing the new captains in charge would only lead to a further descent into anarchy.

“Emmanuel never spoke of the incident himself. Was he skeptical of the coup? Yes; but after Simon’s massacres, he quickly swore fealty to Zhui and remained obedient ever since. After he got the Kafraiya, the two of us kept our heads low and never pursued elevating ourselves in the ever-growing pirate fleet,” Richter nodded his head “particularly more so Emmanuel. He was a living relic—the last old-guard of the dreadful Araki days.

“Emmanuel once told me he learned from his mistakes with Araki—but he never lived in fear of Zhui. He held nothing but respect for the man. I liken that Zhui respected him, too,” His gaze drops to the floor “despite the Don’s erratic behavior, I imagine he will be distraught to learn that a great man fell today, to perish here at this dreadful battleground in such a despicable matter… if I had only reached out to him sooner…” Richter trails off, clenching his fists. We spend the remainder of our time together in silence.

Sometime later, Richter and I are joined by the unkempt Beatrice: Darcy and Brutus closely trailing her. After our customary exchange of salutes, I look behind Beatrice’s group for signs of certain familiar faces disembarking shuttles—but find none. “It’s been irking me for a while,” I ask the others “but Sergi and Jung Lee are still not present… do any of you know their whereabouts?” I ask, and the others look mildly concerned, aside from Beatrice. Yet, nobody speaks up about it other than a charade of frowns and chin strokes. Finally, Darcy’s eyes light up.

“None of us were able to get in contact with the Wulfhere,” the red-haired woman says “not during the battle—and not even after the ultimatum ended. Its captain did broadcast one message, however: ‘Wulfhere sustained moderate damage—minor crew losses. Still capable of fighting’,” Richter glances at Darcy before she continues “—that was the only real status report it gave. Other than that it was typical brief orders to some of its ships after you arrived.” How odd of Jung, but I don’t think much of it. Considering he had suffered the brunt of the Federation assault, I figure he will simply need more time to recollect himself before coming.

“Sergi?” Brutus intrigues, cutting the silence. It occurs to me that despite both acting as confidants to me, neither has actually interacted with the other. Before I can confide in him the likeness of Sergi, however, Brutus slaps himself upright on the head as if reading my thoughts. “Ah…!” He groans “that’s the other bloke that hangs around you!”

“Does that invoke jealousy in you, Brutus?” I ask Brutus warmly. The other girls offer their chuckles in kind. Before anyone can answer, my shuttle’s pilot runs up to us, slightly panting.

“Madame!” She exclaims, catching her breath “it almost slipped my mind—a message was passed on to me from the Hugh: for the time being, Sergi decided to stay behind to evaluate the damage from before.” For a brief moment, I’m unable to comprehend what she means. But it does hit me eventually.

“Sergi—did he allude to checking up on Olga and the other stragglers?” I inquire, but the Castelforte adjutant averts her eyes when the others eye her “for goodness sake…” I pinch my nose bridge while gritting my teeth “the man should’ve dispatched a subordinate to do it for him. Does he intend to incur the wrath of the Don?!” After calming down, it strikes me that despite all my claims for caring for the welfare of my men, it has never crossed my mind to do what Sergi has done. The haunting realization of hypocrisy creeps up on me. I was so fixated on confronting my father that I never stopped to consider what matters to me the most: the well-being of Olga and her men.

Am I a fool? Have I unknowingly used Olga as a stepping stone this entire time? With an agitated sigh I rub my scar and attempt to push my way through the group—but Beatrice steps in my way with crossed arms. “Beatrice?” I ask cautiously. A couple of her lackeys stand imposingly behind her. What is this about all of a sudden?

“Madame, don’t forget you have been summoned by the Don —your father,”Beatrice states coldly “Sergi’s presence is not important, and I doubt even the Don cares if some lowly officer comes or not,” Beatrice says with that serpent gaze of hers “but you are important, and I don’t doubt he would get upset and lash out at your subordinates in your absence, you wouldn’t want that, would you?” She asks as I grit my teeth “you had all the time after the Federation withdrawal to check up on your men. If anything, your man is doing it on your behalf” she scoffs “on his initiative—from the sounds of it. That’s a characteristic any one of us would kill to have in our lieutenants, don’t you think?”

“Are you intending on holding me hostage?” I coldly retort, pushing up against her. Her men step closer, but she gestures for them to stay put. “I’ve looked up to you with respect, and this is how I am treated?”

“My, believe me when I say I’m rather flattered to hear that from you,” the unkempt beauty says, gently stroking my cheek scar with a finger “I’m only acting in everyone’s interest, Li. I don’t want you or your subordinates to incur any wrath. Nobody deserves to incur that bastard’s wrongdoing—not after everything we’ve been through,” she finishes as I grab her stroking hand and lower it from my face.

“I just have to conform with this despicable confrontation, and then I am free to go, is that it?” I ask trying to contain my resentment, puffing air into Beatrice’s face. Though I hate to admit it, the woman is correct. It would be selfish of me to leave the others to the Don’s unpredictable character. The least I can do is be the representative member of all the captains. It’s what I have done in the past, and it is what I will do now.

I’m sorry, Olga. I hope you can find it in you to forgive me. Although it may not be me, leaving it up to Sergi is the most I can suffice at the moment… Beatrice is right. I wasted too much time in observing the Federation withdrawal and should’ve gone to you earlier.

“My, my,” Beatrice coos taking a few steps back “people always remark I am scary—but on the contrary, I suppose they don’t call you the Madame Scarface for nothing,” Beatrice’s men scoff but she shoots them a glare and they stiffen up “but yes… you’ll have my gratitude if you stay until at least the Don dismisses us. I don’t want to stay a minute longer here… I prefer it on the Shiva,” and with that, the alluring woman passes through us with her men, and leads the way into the Montepuez’s interior. One after another, the others reluctantly follow her in silence.

And as I look back, I notice one last shuttle entering the Montepuez’s runway lights. It’s a shuttle I somewhat recognize—one that Jung first arrived on when he came out of retirement. But rather than wait for the man’s arrival, I decidedly stride to catch up with the main group.

It might be a little cold, but Jung will have to go unreceived by me this time. The longer I keep father waiting, the more irritated he will get. Jung will just have to accept the lukewarm reception and join us on his own.