“To the heathens that defile my lands, I am Chancellor Obsidian Hreffron, the ruler of Alagore. I claim these attacks against your soil. The tremble of fear, the confusion in your eyes as you gaze up at your leaders, realizing helplessly as you wonder how? But that fear to rest as I will explain simply.

  All are within the Domain grasp.

  As you build rage and morn those would you love, let me boost the justification against your power. Your leaders defended criminals from our Enlightenment. Wage war against our territory, and protect subjects that oppose the Katra. The vermin’s that cling to their ancient past defile everything the people of Alagore are seeking to pursue. A bright future among those who are better.

  Because of the President refusal to stand aside of the heretic’s redemption or execution, a sickness is lingering. Crime. War. Disease. Corruption. And all aspects of life that hinder salvation. All who resist must be purge if those who seek enlightenment to be seen by those who are better. And because of your interference, we have declared war against your Union.

  To the rest of Earth, do not fear. Once justice has been achieved against this aggressor nation, we seek peace and prosperity among the rest of Mankind. First, we most remove these Cowboys from our lands and once they kneel to their true masters our arms are open.

  We will not tolerate any resistance to the Domain ever growing reach. Now let this dance between Great Powers begin. Let the rhythm of history unfold once again and those who survive gaze up and see the truth of their deeds.” - Chancellor Obsidian Hreffron online recording

  May 17th, 2069 (military calendar)

  Salva, Velunara Protectorate

  Nevali Region, Aldrida, Alagore

  *****

  Ryder was surprised by the size of the crowd. Thousands of civilians had gathered, standing on balconies or even climbing onto rooftops. The majority filled the streets, held back behind Military Police barricades.

  Many were holding banners, displaying the Salva flags along with a few American ones mixed within the crowd. However, the two designs were not the only ones. With the United States recognizing Princess Assiaya new country over the region, a new symbol was forged.

  The flag features a gradient background transitioning from pink at the bottom to orange at the top, with a stylized blue design in the center. The central design includes a crescent moon at the top and an ornate, symmetrical tree-like pattern extending downward. The overall composition creates a striking and harmonious visual effect.

  It was the Velunara National flag.

  The brick road had been cleared of leaves and wagons, providing a direct path from the northern gate to the American-occupied Palace. Samurai, Ghost, and selected Militia stood at attention in the small courtyard, while Vanguard guarded the headquarters’ main entrance. Vikings and a handpicked Militia secured the Royal Court—including Assiaya and Ryder House, Temptress Finnea, the City Council—as well as leaders from Vagahm, Orackoo, Iriskia, and other city-states. American representatives were present too: General Sherman, Colonel Hackett, and Ambassador West. Key USAM officers included Colonel Cooper Weston of the Royal Special Commandos, Colonel Hayashi Taro of the Special Combat Forces, and Canadian Colonel Griffin Levesque.

  “Do you think this is a bit much?” Ryder asked.

  “You should’ve been in Türkiye during their victory anniversary,” West replied. “They love to celebrate their win over the Greeks.”

  The Altaerrie Captain didn’t need more context. The remnants of the former European Union had been defeated by Türkiye in a conflict over Greece. Seeking to reclaim Ottoman-era territories and exploit the Hellenic economic and political crisis, Türkiye had captured much of the small country, sparking a brutal war across the Aegean Sea and Balkans.

  Greece leveraged its mountainous terrain to establish a defensive line, shifting the conflict into an air-sea campaign. In the end, the Mediterranean had been split into two spheres of influence, creating a mini–Cold War between Western Europe and Asia Minor, with Türkiye capturing most of the islands.

  Many had compared it to the Port Arthur moment between the Russian and Japanese Empires in 1904. Western Europe, plagued by stagnation, immigration strain, and a demographic crisis, had been caught off guard. Meanwhile, Türkiye emerged as a rising power—an example of the Thucydides Trap.

  Ryder’s question now was: on Alagore, who was the established power, and who was the rising one—the Unity or the United States?

  “It has to be done,” Yeldan said. “The return of the Coalition to these lands.”

  “If I recall,” West added, “this region was once a vassal of the Hispana Republic.”

  “Do you think they’ll expect me to kneel?” Assiaya asked.

  Ryder understood exactly what she meant. Her former father, the King of these lands, had been a puppet of Hispana. From what Ryder had gathered, it was the only way order could be maintained in Nevali. The region, like ancient Greece, was fractured among city-states—uniting only when threatened from the outside.

  As the new Duke, Ryder considered her point. In truth, this ceremony was an opt-out clause—a way to return administration to its previous owners. A part of him longed to take it, to return to simpler times. But he had spoken with his father about this.

  He turned to his daughter. It was no longer his journey alone.

  “Never going to happen. We’re building a new country here. If they don’t like that, that’s their problem.”

  “We’ll see about that,” West said. “This House game… [we] have been playing might work with backwater villages, but we’ll see if it works with a Great Power.”

  “It will work,” Hackett said.

  “Why?” West asked. “Because of the power of friendship?”

  “That’d be ideal,” Hackett replied, his tone dry with humor. “If they don’t want to deal with my Captain, they can deal with your department.”

  “Calm down, you two,” Sherman said. “Captain, you’re up.”

  The Comanche Captain—and American Duke—felt the tension mounting. This was the first time his people had attempted formal diplomacy with a major power on an alien world. Though they’d successfully extracted the X Legion from Salva, many questions remained. He had heard the Praetor wasn’t particularly impressed.

  Antius had warned him after the evacuation that Imperium leadership was hesitant to trust the Americans—not just for being foreigners, but because the Praetor’s son had been sacrificed to activate the Bridge. This wasn’t just a political matter anymore; it was personal. Ryder suspected he hadn’t impressed the man during the operation.

  He believed he’d done his best, but he also couldn't shake the feeling that the Ambassador might be right. His mentor planned to use him and Assiaya as a diplomatic bridge—a strategy that might appear too simplistic to more mature powers. These lands had once been puppets of Hispana, after all. Only time would tell how the Praetor would respond, and that uncertainty made Ryder uneasy.

  Then came the Legionaries.

  The Imperium leadership—Praetor Bacchus Henness and his senior staff—entered the courtyard, mounted on Ossinlundo (raptor-like bipeds) and Giquus (horse-like creatures in ceremonial tack). Marching alongside them were the Praetorian Guard, the elite defenders of the Imperium's high command. Leading the formation was the Palatini unit, Horatius, being honored for establishing the diplomatic ties that had made this alliance possible.

  “Here they come,” Assiaya murmured.

  Ryder glanced at his nervous daughter as one of the most powerful empires on Alagore approached. He reached out and took her hand, silently reminding her that they were in this together.

  The Legionaries halted before the Palace. Their armor gleamed—unlike the worn gear from the siege. One guard stepped forward to assist the Praetor from his Ossinlundo. The others, mostly Lat males, dismounted as well. Ryder noted three figures in particular: Valkyrie Imperator Aurelian Valfyr, commander of the Legion; the gray-haired Luperca Ipprius-Freff WarClaw, second-in-command of the X Legion; a Yalate responsible for finances; and a Lat woman in priestly garb, the Legion’s Augur, Cualtli-Jupiter.

  From their ranks emerged Capitaneus Flavius-Elpidius Antius of Horatius, walking to the center. Ryder and Assiaya stepped forward to meet him.

  “Are you ready for this?” Antius asked.

  “As we’ll ever be,” Ryder replied.

  “I mean it,” Antius pressed. “I’ve placed my name and temple’s reputation on the line to support you.”

  Ryder winced inwardly. Another weight. Another person betting their honor on him. Before he could respond, Assiaya spoke first.

  “I’ve seen my father struggle,” she said. “He fought my former master. He survived the wilds and Orilla demons. I never saw him give up. Not once.”

  She tightened her grip on his hand.

  Ryder was stunned. Those events—though only months ago—felt like another lifetime. He hadn’t realized she’d been watching so closely.

  Antius smiled at the dual-eyed girl. “That is what I said.”

  The Capitaneus stood at attention. “I present Praetor Bacchus Henness of the Imperium.”

  The Praetor stood tall, radiating discipline and authority. He wore polished dark gray and red Legionary armor. Embedded in the center of his helmet was a small blue crystal—symbol of Tekali—with a bronze eagle hovering above it, representing the Mother Goddess.

  Antius placed his right fist over his chest, then extended it outward in the Imperium salute. Ryder responded with a military salute, and Assiaya curtsied.

  “Mathew Ryder, Duke of Salva and Captain of the American Minutemen. This is my daughter, Assiaya Balan-Ryder, Princess of Salva and of the Velunara Protectorate.”

  “It is an honor, Praetor,” Assiaya said, her voice trembling slightly. “In Cornet’s halls, I heard stories of the Legion’s strength and respect. It is a privilege to have you here. I hope we can be trusted allies against the evils of the world.”

  To everyone’s surprise, the Praetor stood silent, staring at them like a statue. Ryder remembered the last time he’d fumbled such a greeting after the siege. He began to worry—until the Praetor finally moved.

  “A Balan, you say?” Henness asked. “You speak that name as though you understand its meaning.”

  He glanced at Antius, then back at Assiaya. “The Balan family are fat, unmotivated, cowardly. A House with no honor. A stain on Hispana’s legacy. Placeholders—nothing more. All of Nevali knows this. I will not support such a name.”

  Ryder saw the shock and hurt on Assiaya’s face and prepared to intervene, but the Praetor raised a hand to stop him.

  “Capitaneus Antius spoke of your deeds,” Henness continued. “Long ago, we installed the Balan House to maintain peace. It brought only shame. Some in the Senate would see that name rise again now that the Aristocracy retreats.”

  Then the Praetor knelt, gently took Assiaya’s hand, and kissed it.

  “But a new House has risen—one that has done what the former king never could. I, Praetor Henness of the Imperium, recognize and honor your claim, Princess Assiaya Ryder.”

  He stood and turned to Ryder. “I understand you lead a fake House.”

  “So I’ve been told,” Ryder said.

  “I prefer a false House that honors its people over a true one that shirks its duty.”

  “I understand, sir,” Ryder replied.

  Henness removed his helmet. “Now show me, Alagore’s new masters. Show me who my son died for.”

  The group began moving toward the Palace, with Assiaya guiding them. The city was silent, like a ghost town. Thousands watched, holding their breath.

  Upon arrival, Ryder stepped forward.

  “This is Colonel William Hackett, commander of the Minutemen. Ambassador Susin West, lead diplomat for the United States. General Kelvin Sherman, commander of all USAM forces on Alagore.”

  Sherman stepped forward. “Praetor. On behalf of my country and our allies, it’s an honor to meet and fight beside the Legion.”

  “To fight?” Henness asked. “To what end?”

  “By Congressional declaration and under Presidential authority, Unity and their allies are hereby banished from Aldrida lands.”

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  Sherman extended his hand. The Praetor studied the gesture, then took it.

  “Then we shall fight.”

  May 19th, 2069 (Military Calendar)

  Fort Carson, United States

  Colorado, North America, Earth

  *****

  The two officers saluted. Mathew Ryder was thrilled to find a buyer for his small home at Fort Carson. He wanted to give his daughter a proper family experience, which required him to establish his roots at Salva, not on Earth.

  As the buying officer walked away, he found the moment strange. It wasn’t as he expected. When he decided to sell, the Captain thought it would be harder to let go. This was not like people moving to another country; it was him moving to another world, but he felt at peace.

  Now that the transaction was complete, Ryder headed toward his formal home to finish packing. That was when he saw his daughter setting a clothing bag next to a truck. When she saw him approaching, she nearly jumped with joy before calming herself.

  "Salvete, Pata…, or tata?"

  He didn’t need a translation from his phone, even though the military Programable Intelligence Alagore Universal Translation (AUT) has made significant progress with assisting everyday soldiers' communication with their native allies, it was no replacement for learning the local language. After spending time with his Comanche and city Council allies, along with his daughter, he had picked up some native words from Alagore, with his daughter saying Hello, Father, or daddy.

  He would respond in Latin, switching some words with Elvish, as those were the languages that she was most accustomed to, as he still had no idea how to speak Vampirism. "Calling me dad won't offend me. I prefer the less formal manner in private."

  Assiaya jumped with joy. She stopped, calming herself. "Okay, Dad. This was your Earth home?"

  "For a few months, yes."

  "And you are giving it up for me?"

  To the Captain's shock, the question hit him like a train. When he decided to sell, he knew that he was giving up a significant part of his life on Earth. Not that he was abandoning his American identity or heritage, but this was an important step. Becoming a leader with governing responsibilities, a public figure for a new world, and, more importantly, restarting family life. "No, giving it up for us. Salva is our home."

  Assiaya jumped with joy before assisting Ceka with the move.

  “I have to say, Mater Ryder,” Ceka said. “Someone of your stature never should have lived in a structure like this.”

  “Military home,” Ryder replied. “And, I didn’t get this promotion until recently.”

  “Are we taking this, Dad?” Assiaya asked.

  “No, we are not,” Ceka said.

  “Why not?”

  “It is possessed.”

  Ryder saw his daughter holding a small, standing black rectangular box. It was a home support system that tracks Internet traffic, domestic security, and PI-interactive functions. When they first arrived, his Head Maid opened the door before the system was deactivated, causing the house alarm to activate.

  He glanced around, seeing that most of his stuff was packed away. Furniture, electronics, dishware, clothing, and other domestic goods that people need, or at least that they could bring to an alien world. There were things that he had to sell off. For example, two of his chairs, which had limited network controls, were connected to the Internet, and his kitchen appliances were also digital. The truth was that almost everything that had a plug was digital. This included the truck outside, as maintenance and refueling would become an issue.

  It wasn't that his new home in Salva didn't have electricity, as most countries, big or small, have developed the utility to some degree. However, nothing compares with the homes on Earth. Even during his time as a prisoner of Kallem, their lightning was primitive compared to the fifty-year-old military house he had. This forces the Captain to prioritize necessities over luxury, which many Americans had become accustomed to, as almost every gadget had some form of computer in it.

  Now that he thought about it, the people of luxuries that many Americans had become accustomed to, as almost every gadget contained some form of computer, Earth's desire to install technology and software into everything possible was like the people of Alagore infusing enchantments and alchemy into all their technology: different means, same mindset.

  Hours passed as the three finished packing what was left in the house. As Ryder came back inside after loading, he heard his daughter calling from his bedroom. The Father rushed over, wondering what the issue was. "What is it?"

  "I found this golden ring," Assiaya said. "What is it for? Is it enchanted?"

  Ryder walked over, and his daughter handed the object over to him. He held it up, studying it. "You know, we don't have enchanted rings. It is…, well, was my wedding ring."

  "What is it doing here?"

  "I left it. When we first went through the Bridge, I was not sure if we were coming back."

  "What do you want to do with it?"

  The answer proved harder to express than he had hoped for. Deep down, Ryder knew that he should get rid of the ring, which was part of his past life. However, he struggled to summon the strength to do so. It was as if he were disrespecting the memory of his dead wife by getting rid of it. "I…, maybe next time."

  That was when he saw Ceka entering the room. She stood in her typical disciplined manner before slightly bowing. "Master Ryder. You have a guest."

  "Guest?" Ryder placed his wedding ring into his pocket before walking out. When entering the living room, he saw an older gentleman in full dress uniform, with his cap between his arms.

  He was stunned by what she said. The rest of the Comanche took care of their affairs or celebrated their final days of R&R. This allowed him to take care of his final domestic arrangements before moving to Alagore, so he was not expecting anyone.

  The Captain walked out of his bedroom, causing his daughter to follow in confusion, and wished to investigate. In the middle of the living room was an older gentleman: gray hair with a stone-strong jaw and a shrapnel scar on his side cheek. He wore a brown-black leather jacket with military units’ patches on the back – ranging from the 10th Mountain Division to Green Berets.

  Ceka stood next to their guest. "I present, Major General Walter Ryder. Now, I will go grab some water from the truck.”

  The old man turned to the neko and chuckled. "Formal. Isn't she."

  "You have no idea,” Ryder said. That was when he realized his father understood the Neko Head Maid. “You understood?”

  Walter held out his phone, which was Bluetooth connected to his open ear headphones. It was apparent that he had the updated AUT to allow basic communication with Ceka and Assiaya. “I might work in an office, but that does not mean I do not do my research.”

  Assiaya walked over, grabbing her father's blue jean jacket shyly, nervous about the unknown stranger. “He has the same name as yours?"

  Ryder was about to respond, but noticed the older man warning him to remain silent, waiting for the girl's reaction. Assiaya looked at everyone, confused, but then it finally clicked. Her nervous eyes slowly widened as she stared at the older gentleman.

  "Ceka said, Ryder!" Assiaya said. "My Father's surname is Ryder. Are you his Father…wait." The Princess burst into excitement before calming herself and standing more formally before bowing. "I apologize for my reaction. I am honored to see my father's father."

  Walter stood there, staring at the girl, staring at her two distinct gold and blue eyes. He looked unsure at first, with his multiple decades of military experience analyzing every detail about the Princess and the circumstances of how she came into his son’s life. His cold, military discipline quickly faded with a warm family aura as he smiled, holding out his hands. “In this family, you never apologize for being yourself. It is an honor to meet my granddaughter. Now, give pap’s a hug.”

  It took a moment for Asisaya to register the request. She glanced at her arms as if she were having a mental conversation about the situation before she nearly jumped with joy and hugged her grandfather.

  Then they were done, and the older gentleman looked toward the Captain. For him, it had been years since they last met, and he struggled to find the proper words. Not because it has, but since he went through the Bridge, a lot has changed. With that, Ryder couldn't hold himself back. He walked over to his father and hugged him, and his father hugged him back.

  "It is nice to see you again," Walter said.

  Ryder took a step back. "Same, Dad. This is your granddaughter, Assiaya. You already met Ceka, my family's House Head Maid."

  "Princess of the Velunara Protectorate," Assiaya inserted with pride. Her typical shyness was replaced with excitement upon meeting her new extended family.

  "That too," Ryder said.

  "Nice to meet both of you," Walter said. When the Neko entered the home again, handing everyone a drink, he thanked her. “Both of you.”

  “What brings you into town?” Ryder asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Walter asked. “I came to see my granddaughter.

  Assiaya gestured animatedly, explaining how excited she was to display her family bloodline within their new Salva home, starting with buying verism. Small head statues that honor their patar lineage. All with the name Ryder carved into them.

  As the Princess continued about how happy she was with her new family, Ryder leaned in and whispered the context behind what she was saying, stating the importance of House politics and family station. And with regarding the family statues, it was more about the females of one House bragging to their female friends within another Houses.

  She then continued, telling stories of their adventure and explaining how the two met in Kallem’s fortress – even though it was classified. He would inquire in questions, like how she liked Earth so far, and that he saw her on the television putting flowers at the terrorist attack shrine and to American soldiers arriving at Alagore – stating how proud of her heart. And that as long as she never loses that, she would always be welcome in the family.

  This only excited her more, and when he asked about what Salva and her experience as Princess was like, she rambled in whatever language that came out first.

  Walter stood there, half confused by the girl's ranting, but allowed her to continue. Even Ryder struggled to follow alone, hearing the terms chickens, her arguments with the Ambassador, and making friends for the first time in her life – her elven friend, Rosanhi and her American one, Ellen.

  "That was a mouthful," Walter said. "It seems like you two have lived a life in only a few months."

  Walter grabbed a thin, rectangular box with a blue bow on top. He stated that it was a present for his granddaughter. All the excitement returned, and she nearly grabbed the gift but stopped herself. The Princess reformed her mannerisms before looking to Ryder, seeking approval to accept the gift. Once she did, the girl received it and opened it. Inside, there was a dress. A soft, sleeveless pink dress for a young girl featuring a gentle rose hue, a gathered waist, and a flowing A-line silhouette perfect for warm-weather wear.

  Assiaya asked if she could try it on, and Ceka took the girl into the back bedroom, leaving the two alone.

  "Well," Walter said. "She is a handful."

  Ryder couldn’t help but laugh, recalling everything that had happened. "You have no idea, Dad.”

  "Yes, I do. I raised your sister. Assiaya is going to be hitting the teenage years soon, and on top of that, she is a Princess. Good luck. Still, I can see she loves you."

  "Thanks."

  "I mean it. She cannot stop herself from talking about you. How many parents could say that? Saying that, the Lord tested you two like no other. I am proud of you. I know this was not an easy choice for you, but I am proud."

  "I wish I could say it was easy." He placed his hand over his chest, feeling the Akuma slice across his chest when they were fleeing Kallem’s territory. He went on to explain everything that had transpired over the last few months, especially regarding his new adopted daughter. "She nearly cost me my life a few times when we met. But I wouldn't trade it for the world. Scratch that. Worlds."

  "Good. Never forget that."

  "So…, what really brought you here?"

  "I told you. I came to see my granddaughter. Speaking of, when were you going to tell me?"

  Ryder placed his hands on his hips, glancing toward the glass sliding door. "I just couldn't. You know the rules."

  "You don't have to hide anything," Walter responded. "Sherman has been keeping me up to date since you tried to trick Colonel Hackett, which we all found hysterical in the General's Club.”

  "I was just trying to protect her," Ryder said.

  "I get that. I think you've already noticed the change, but I'll say it anyway. Kids change your perspective on the world. You have been in a slump since Carol died, so I hope you are ready."

  Ryder couldn't disagree with his father's perspective. Since bringing Assiaya into his life, a lot has changed. Even when he was married, there was still a sense of individuality. Yes, he prioritized his former wife's well-being, but he didn't have the same reason that the world was out to get her, unlike his daughter. He had always heard this mindset, but now he understood.

  "I hope so, too," Ryder said. "And you said Sherman told you everything?" When he saw the acknowledgment, he continued, "Outside of any classified issues, I did not know what to say. This whole business has been challenging. I was worried that you might be disappointed by me with some of the decisions I've been making."

  Walter looked toward his son’s formal master bedroom, hearing Ceka assisting with Assiaya switching into her American clothing. “You are talking about Ceka. First, I can never be disappointed with you. You were presented with a dilemma, and you made a choice. If you believe you are doing the right thing, it is all the Lord can ask.”

  "And…." Ryder was forced to clear his track record of embarrassment. "I hope you don't think less of me for… owning Ceka? I am never going to get used to saying that."

  "Do you regret your action?"

  Ryder took a breath before responding, collecting his thoughts. He thought back to when he saved Folen Elstina, an elf and not a friend, from a lifetime of imprisonment in Unity during the mountain port raid. Since then, the respectable noblemen in Salva who had become vocal supporters of the American occupation became close allies of Ryder. As a thank-you gift, the nobleman offered one of his prestigious motuia servants to help manage the Duke and Princess's newly established House.

  The catch was that a motuia is an indentured servant. A volunteer system for those seeking education, professionalism, security, and payment of one debt. It all depends on why an individual chooses this path. The mindset was that benefits and advancements are earned, not handed out – and the irony was that this was Alagore's solution to the slavery problem. Provide a path for education, academia, apprenticeship, or a method to avoid a debt trap while providing institutional protection for a motuia. In return, the owner gains critical skilled workers—loyalty of one's staff, especially in areas of importance.

  For his Neko servant, she wished to one day manage her own noble or royal House, so this was a dream come true. When Folen presented Ceka as a gift, it sparked much debate between him, Natilite, and Hackett on what to do. The institution is built within the Alagore society, which left a dilemma for the Americans, who value freedom above all else. If his people abolished motuias from society, especially since he was the Duke —a public figure who would represent Altaerrie to the rest of the moon, it would result in a backlash, if not hostility. However, if the Americans did nothing, it could be considered.

  For Mathew Ryder, if his people were going to show that they were here to help, he needed to show grace. Taking Ceka was always going to be an unpopular sight among his people. Still, in return, he gained popularity with the people of Salva. It showed many of the nearby villages and Vagahm that he was not just a foreign conqueror but an ally they could work with.

  "I do not," Ryder firmly stated.

  "Good," Walter said. “I did not raise you to question decisions. If I understand my Latin, you are a Patar familias of your family. You must be strong and lead."

  “I have been coming to terms with that. But it has not been easy seeing people you know and trust giving you side glances for what you know. Not just with Ceka, but Hackett’s plan.”

  "I am a firm believer in that; everything happens for a reason, one way or another. And this is only going to be the first test. Throughout my military career, I learned that those fort decisions only get harder the further you climb. This was a test of your leadership, and only you can decide if you passed or not.”

  "And how do you maintain your principles without compromising? That has been my hiccup. Everyone thinks I am abandoning my American roots to embrace some absolute monarchy nonsense."

  "The answer is simple. Have confidence in what you are doing. For example, you embraced their motuia institution but demanded that all forms of slavery be outlawed, and to embrace other aspects of our culture. The true aspect of life is that we are all owned by someone; they are right about that. It is only about perspective. We call ourselves free, and yet, we allow the government and corporations to listen to our private conversations at home, and no one cares.”

  Walter took a deep breath before continuing, “The General explained the situation to me, and I think you made a pragmatic decision. The hard choice will always be the unpopular one. Still, as long as you believe you are steering the Titanic in the right direction, even if it is baby steps, then you are maintaining your principles."

  “That sounds like the saying,” Ryder interjected. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions, argument.”

  “The difference is,” Walter countered. “Those people tune everyone out because their ideology so consumes them. Do pay attention to people's criticism, but what makes a good leader is using that as a guide to navigate. Not be a slave by it or outright outlaw it.”

  Ryder took a deep breath before nodding. "Thanks, Dad. That helped.”

  "Look at it like this, son. Don't look at what people hate; look at the results. You choose to respect their world customs. They saw that and respected you for it. From what I understand, this motuia thing was meant to phase out our slavery, with mixed results, but they skipped the shooting at each other part, so there is that. But you and your daughter did it. You have dozens of villages and cities flocking to you because you show them that we are not coming as conquerors but as liberators. You have advanced American interests in our first interstellar war."

  "Thanks, Dad," Ryder said. "I needed to hear that."

  "I know," Walter said. "Trust in yourself, trust in your superiors. Colonel Hackett and General Sherman think highly of you and the kid, so never feel alone. Have faith, and everything will work out."

  With the bedroom door open, Assiaya stepped into the room. She wore a delicate, blush-pink dress that seemed to float around her, its ruffled neckline framing her collarbone with softness. The sheer mesh bodice, adorned with subtle floral embroidery, hugged her frame before giving way to a flared skirt that danced with every step, its layers of airy fabric swaying like petals in a gentle breeze.

  "You look beautiful," Ryder said.

  "Thank you," Assiaya said. She then turned toward her grandfather. "Thank you for the gift. I am honored."

  "Don't be thankful," Walter said. "As a grandfather, I am honor-bound to spoil the crap out of you. Now, let's go get some ice cream."

  "…, ice cream!"