I had never seen Endymion so passionate as when he sought to convince our charge of the merits of House Leos. I knew he was Laconian, but I never dreamed he’d hold any one family in such high regard. I wonder if that was the start of our mistakes. I wonder if that was where our turning point was, and it was that moment which sealed Graecia’s fate. I may never find out the answer.

  Arthur sat down at the table indicated by the waiter with a smile of thanks, and set his backpack down beside him when he did. The restaurant that Diogenes had sent him to, named the ‘Delight of Dionysus’, was apparently one of the best for day-meals and casual luncheons on Asfalís. It had only taken a quick aircar trip to arrive, and thanks to the parking priority claimed by the Kidemónes they had not had to worry about finding somewhere to stow the aircar first.

  When both Endymion and Perseus took up guardian positions nearby, Arthur glanced over at them. “Not going to join me?” He asked curiously.

  “We were instructed to watch over you while waiting for Lord Atreus.” Endymion rumbled gruffly in response.

  “And that means you can’t do that while enjoying a meal?” Arthur questioned skeptically.

  “It would be inappropriate.”

  “Do you really think someone’s going to attack me here, Endymion?” Arthur pressed with a mild amount of amused exasperation. “We’re in the middle of Port Asfalís, I can see police nearby, and there are cameras and people everywhere. Not to mention the fact that nobody even knows who I am. Standing there like silver-and-blue ‘look over here!’ signs is just going to draw more attention.”

  “Us eating with you could be just as strange a sight.” The Kidemónes said dubiously.

  “Could be. Probably less obvious than standing guard as if I’m royalty, though, right?”

  “He has a point, brother.” Perseus said with a small chuckle. “We look very conspicuous standing guard over him.”

  Endymion turned his helmet to Perseus, and then back to Arthur, and finally let out an audible sigh. “Very well. You’ve made your point, Arthur.” The more senior Kidemónas said while moving to join Arthur at the table, and reaching up to remove his helmet with a hiss of depressurizing air.

  The face that was revealed was both expected and unexpected in equal measure.

  Endymion appeared to be in his prime, with close-cropped brown hair and a beard that erred toward red, which was meticulously maintained to surround his mouth. His eyes were a deep brown and surprisingly soulful, giving Arthur the impression of an artist or scholar more than a warrior.

  Were it not for the military haircut and powered armor, in fact, Arthur would have mistaken him for a very fit librarian or poet.

  “You don’t look like what I was expecting.” Arthur observed thoughtfully.

  “I’ve heard that before.” Endymion muttered while setting his helmet aside on the table. “And it’s irritating every time.”

  Arthur smiled at him in amusement.

  “The look of annoyed sufferance is certainly very you, though.”

  Endymion just grunted and looked at Perseus when the younger and taller of the two Kidemónes joined them both, and similarly removed his helmet.

  Perseus looked far more like the poster boy for Graecia’s classical heritage: olive-skinned, curly black hair falling to his shoulders, an easy smile, and a strong and handsome jaw. Someone could have taken his face and put it on the poster for a movie about Hercules, and Arthur would have thought they’d actually gone and found the man.

  Mythological or not.

  “Endymion’s only setting is ‘professionally dissatisfied’.” Perseus said while easing himself into the chair and setting his helmet on the table.

  “I thought it was ‘annoyed with everything’.” Arthur jested with an ease that surprised him. His regained memories told him unequivocally that he was not a person prone to jesting, yet he found it shockingly easy to do around the two Kidemónes.

  “Currently, my setting is ‘wondering why I am here’.” Endymion griped while picking up the laminated menu with a faint whine of his gauntlet’s servos. “Though I will admit, I enjoy the food here.” He muttered. “The Delight is one of the best places for day-food on Asfalís.”

  “That’s what Diogenes told me.” Arthur agreed while picking up his own menu. “Though I’m surprised it’s a physical menu.” He commented while wobbling the laminated material in amusement.

  “Plays into the classical vibe.” Perseus said with a laugh. “Though since I don’t think they had laminated paper in the old world, it’s just more ‘classical’ than holo screens.”

  “Classical vogue, then.” Arthur laughed in kind.

  It felt good to laugh, he admitted to himself.

  Arthur Zacaris, he knew, had not had very many opportunities to laugh freely.

  Endymion set down his menu at the same time as Arthur turned to look at his own properly, and perused the options without any idea of what to pick.

  “Can either of you recommend something?” he asked idly.

  “Lamb.” Endymion said with surprising zeal.

  “Lamb is good.” Perseus agreed. “Steak is good too.”

  “You have Lamb and Steak on the station?” Arthur enquired. “Is it imported from Hellas, or is it vat-grown?”

  “Graecia only does vat-grown for rations.” Perseus said with a shake of his head. “The restaurants and day-to-day stuff are all genuinely farmed. It’s considered pretty prestigious to be a proper farmer in Graecia. Macedon, the third continent of Hellas, is almost entirely dedicated to farming and food production. We also get a lot of things from Demeter.”

  “I had heard you had an impressively well-developed Agri-World.”

  “Yeah.” Perseus said with a nod. “Largest supplier of food in the cluster, actually. We got real lucky settling in Graecia. The System is absolutely stacked with resources and vital world-types. With access to proper terraforming technology, we’re hoping to be able to make more of it habitable. Zeus and a couple of the other worlds are exceptions, but the gas giant has its own benefits.”

  “Like free hydrogen fuel for the fleet.” Arthur guessed.

  “And a lucrative income from merchants stopping in to refuel, too.” Perseus agreed.

  “Do the other nations not have gas giants?”

  “Byzantium does, Parthia does, but Espania, Temujin, Liberty, and Sicilia are all pretty out of luck as far as that goes. I think Liberty and Sicilia share one at the gateway system between them and us, but their entire sub-cluster only connects to Hyperion through a single hyperlane.”

  “I’m surprised Graecia doesn’t control it.” Arthur commented while perusing the list of drinks instead, and putting off his meal choice for the immediate moment.

  “We provide security for the merchants, given the size of our military, but we agreed to make it neutral territory early on in the colonial development. We ended up becoming one of the two big nations in the cluster, but we’ve stuck by the treaty.”

  “The star map of Hyperion is pretty rigid.” Arthur said while deciding to go with some sort of mango-vanilla hybrid drink. “I saw several micro-clusters connected to Hyperion’s main hyperlane network, and several of them were colonized by small nations.”

  “There are ten star nations in the Cluster.” Perseus said with a nod. “But of those, Liberty, Sicilia, Iroquois, Bretonnia, and Madrid are minor players. Liberty tends to puff up now and then, but it’s mostly just to show they aren’t willing to be bullied by Graecia—not that we even care to do that.” Perseus finished with a sigh.

  “So Graecia, Parthia, Byzantium, Espania, and Temujin are the major players?”

  “Temujin… Well, sort of?” Perseus said with a look at the still-silent Endymion, who caught the glance and sighed.

  “Temujin is borderline as a major player.” Endymion said with a resigned grumble. “We rate the power of a nation based on its capability for projection, its population, and its gross system product. I’m sure Aurelia was similar.”

  Arthur simply nodded in agreement and continued listening.

  Truthfully he had no real idea, but it seemed consistent with his false memories.

  “In terms of projection, Temujin falls far short. Its military is second-priority to its conservation of the natural elements of its systems, and the Khanate places a lot of impetus on ensuring the preservation of the natural environments of the worlds that come under its control.”

  “I’m sensing a but.” Arthur said, and shared a look of amusement with Perseus.

  “But—” Endymion said with an annoyed glance at both of them “—Temujin is rimward of Parthia, to the galactic north as reckoned by Sol’s relation to us and the galactic center.”

  “So they’re a nature-loving coalition of nomads, if my historical context is correct.” Arthur said while thinking back to what memories he had of his education on Albion. It was strange, he could remember the knowledge he gleaned from that education in sudden and unpredictable surges that came while he spoke to people, but he could recall nothing of the actual process of education, nor what his schooling had even looked like.

  It was incredibly off-putting. He knew it had happened. He knew he had the knowledge. He simply couldn’t remember any of it with specificity. Shelving the disconcerting reality of his butchered memory, he focused on the immediate moment and finished his thought.

  “And they’re cornered by an imperialistic and hyper-aggressive neighbor?”

  “Yes.” Endymion grunted. “Temujin holds its own, thanks largely to its wealth of mineral resources and highly professional military, but if Parthia decides to really hammer them, they’ll need help.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Graecia isn’t willing?” Arthur asked with surprise.

  “Temujin isn’t willing.” Perseus said with a sigh. “They keep refusing our offers of aid, saying they don’t want to be in our debt, basically. They’re stubborn.”

  “That’s not uncommon, especially for some of the more culturally introverted nations.” Arthur said while using the knowledge provided by the memories Nataliya had fabricated. “The Fringe isn’t much different either. Rasputin is downright xenophobic.”

  “Sounds like Iroquois.” Perseus muttered. “They’re so jaded they might as well post ‘fuck off and die’ signs across their Calypso points.”

  “Andino.” Endymion growled.

  “It’s true.” Perseus said defensively.

  “Just because it’s true doesn’t mean it’s okay to say in public, brother.”

  “Politics.” Arthur said dryly. “They’re always the same no matter where you are in the Humanosphere: a fucking headache.”

  Perseus burst out laughing at his words, and even Endymion allowed himself to snort in amusement.

  “So of all these powers, it’s just Parthia that’s a pain in the ass?” Arthur asked after their laughter subsided.

  “Essentially. Liberty and Sicilia depend on us for trade, Iroquois is isolationist, Temujin has a tenuous armistice with Parthia and uses their lanes for trade shipping—with a hefty tax, so I hear—and commercial travel. Bretonnia and Madrid are at a kind of permanent war footing with each other, and spend most of their time shooting one another over the same three systems in the same micro-cluster.”

  “Waste of human life.” Endymion growled.

  “Yeah, it’s pretty bad out there.” Perseus said with a sober look. “As for Byzantium and Espania; they’re located Solward and just sort of exist. They’re too weak to challenge us or Parthia and historically they’re pretty close allies. Both the Byzantine Basileus and Espanian King are actually cousins, funnily enough. Their royal families are pretty heavily intermarried after centuries of peace.”

  “What if they merged?” Arthur asked with interest. He’d definitely heard of it happening between smaller nations in Rim sectors, and even the Fringe and Verge had examples of it—though in almost every case, it was due to one side gaining pre-eminence over the other, and the lesser of the two powers seeking to preserve some measure of identity or influence when faced with a neighbor’s inevitable victory.

  Planets didn’t fall often or easily in the Humanosphere, but a blockade would kill a civilization just as easily.

  He didn’t even need to worry which memories that knowledge came from.

  It was just such a constant for the Humanosphere that it didn’t matter.

  “A merger could happen.” Perseus said with a thoughtful tone. “But probably won’t. I think they enjoy their individual independence too much, and alliances are a far cry from assimilation. Not even sure who’d be qualified to take over the other, honestly.”

  “Could just do two monarchs like us.” Endymion muttered.

  “Assuming they could find a way to meld the two constitutions as well.” Perseus agreed. “Byzantium is a lot less democratic than Espania, and a lot more brutal on dissidents to boot.”

  “Nothing compared to Parthia.” Endymion snorted.

  “Nothing compared to Parthia.” Perseus agreed.

  “Parthia can’t be all that bad, can it?” Arthur asked carefully.

  Both Kidemónes stared at him flatly, and Arthur raised his hands peacefully.

  “Hey, I’m not from here. I don’t have generational loathing. I’m asking objectively.”

  His companions looked at each other for a moment, and then Perseus spoke.

  “They’re not mustache-twirling holovid baddies.” Perseus admitted. “And they are pretty economically solvent, with a booming population to boot. The problem is that—”

  “They’re slaving, pillaging, honorless scum.” Endymion interjected flatly. “Parthians only put value on their nobles and serfs. The rest of the population are seen as chattel for their imperialism, and used as disposable assets. They use state breeding programs to inflate their birth rate, and then send children as young as fifteen to go fight their wars in mass-produced and cheaply built warships.”

  “It’s numbers and fusillades for Parthia.” Perseus agreed grimly. “They’re the other big power in the cluster, but their strength has been built on a callous disregard for their own citizens’ lives.”

  “And nobody has bothered to rebel?” Arthur asked with a disturbed look. The very idea of a nation like that not simply persisting, but thriving made his skin crawl.

  “It’s been attempted.” Perseus said sadly. “Their propaganda is extreme, though, and their narrative is impeccable. Most Parthians are highly xenophobic, and genuinely believe the rest of the cluster—hell, the rest of the Humanosphere wants to destroy or enslave them. It’s classic despot stuff.”

  “Another tragedy to lay at the feet of Terran selfishness.” Endymion muttered. “With no FTL communications, nobody can truly show Parthians differently. Merchants are kept well away from the population at large, and with how they curate their pleasure stations, most don’t care enough to rock the boat.”

  “The ones that do, well, they don’t generally last very long.”

  “And there’s no Solar Marshals here to do shit about it.” Endymion growled.

  Arthur fell thoughtfully silent at the Kidemónes’ words, and the pair seemed content to let him. Parthia had been a sore topic since he’d set foot on Asfalís, and the one interaction he’d seen between Graecians and Parthians had left no illusions as to the Ascendancy’s stance on their sector contemporaries. It reminded him of Pendragon, he realized with sudden clarity, and his own home nation’s abject dislike for several of its rivals within the inner Core.

  More interesting was the fact that it seemed to be a very pointed dislike.

  He’d seen no such vitriol when the Kidemónes were speaking of other nations, even those that were clearly thought of as the sector’s problem children. The more Arthur considered it, the more he came to wonder what exactly had happened—or was still happening—that made Parthia so immensely reviled by people who, in his limited experience, seemed relatively reasonable.

  Even with the knowledge of their Frontier raiding and slavery, there had to be more.

  It was a matter that merited future investigation, though at a later date.

  Instead, he broached a topic he was more immediately intent on.

  “So, I have news about House Leos.”

  Both men turned to him in surprise at the sudden statement, and likely at the unexpected change in topic.

  “...go on.” Perseus said carefully.

  “I’m about to sign a contract to become one of their Hetairoi.” Arthur said honestly.

  Endymion spat out his water, and Perseus’ eyes widened. “Well now.” he said with a look of eager interest. “That is quite the juicy revelation.”

  “You’re going to do what?” Endymion asked incredulously.

  “Isn’t that what you wanted, Endymion?” Arthur asked carefully. “You did lead me there.”

  “Yes!” Endymion said with a cough. “Yes. Yes! It wasn’t a negative reaction, Arthur. It was just something completely unexpected. I thought you’d need more time to decide!”

  “I’m not from Laconia,” Perseus admitted, “so Endymion is more qualified to speak on this. It’s still pretty juicy, though.”

  “Endymion?” Arthur prompted.

  “House Leos is the Blood of the Lion.” Endymion said without any preamble, and with a gleam of intensity to his brown eyes. “They claim descent directly from the original Leonidas, from Terra, and have been one of the pillars of Graecia since the Ascendancy’s founding.”

  “That doesn’t tell me much about them that I couldn’t have learned with my omni-comp, Endymion. Nor does it explain your insistence on my meeting with Cassandra.” Arthur pressed.

  “Hmph. Right. Well. Let me then say this: if you truly are to be their Hetairoi, Arthur Magellan, I will make it my personal mission to ensure nothing threatens your life, with the gods as my witnesses.”

  Perseus hissed in air in surprise, and even Arthur had enough social awareness to recognise a rather intense promise.

  “That serious, huh?”

  “House Leos is one of the last truly honorable bloodlines left in Laconia.” Endymion continued unabashedly. “Especially when compared to some other Houses, which I won’t name—” he shot a meaningful look at Perseus with that, who laughed while Endymion continued “—but who, I will say, are far less deserving of the Lambda. Menelaus Leos is a hero, and his family has been tormented and abused to an extent that is unconscionable.”

  “Tormented how?” Arthur prompted while absorbing the information.

  “Every attempt at recruiting Hetairoi has been cut off at the knees. They’ve been backed into a corner of their enemies’ devising, and nobody seems to be able to help. Even King Leonidas, at whose pleasure I serve, has been perplexingly silent on the matter. I would never dream to question our sovereigns’ will, but the utter lack of any action on the Kings’ part—especially Leonidas’—is extremely odd.”

  “Why?” Arthur asked with extreme focus while Perseus listened quietly.

  “Because House Leos is a Great House. They’re not just part of Laconia, they help define Laconia.” Endymion said passionately. “The whole Ascendancy has benefited from their dedication to the ideals and spirit of Graecia’s founding principles. They don’t just give lip service to the creed, they live it. Duty is everything to House Leos. They’re a bloodline that puts the ‘noble’ into ‘nobility’.”

  “I heard that Menelaus and Circe are both skilled pilots. Is that not enough?”

  “Of course it isn’t.” Endymion growled dismissively. “Menelaus was named the Sword Saint for his capability on the battlefield when piloting the Ares Martialis, and Circe has been heralded as the embodiment of Athena herself—but neither of them should be risking their lives in an Eidolon, not when their entire bloodline is at stake.”

  “Plus, didn’t Duke Leos sustain an injury that ruined his piloting ability?” Perseus asked.

  “Yes.” Endymion confirmed with a growl. “Yes he did. The claim was an enemy ambush, but many of us suspect foul play.”

  “Wouldn’t investigating that fall under your—ah.” Arthur cut himself off when he realized the answer to his own question. “The Myrmidónes.”

  Endymion simply nodded and said nothing.

  “Diogenes told me that their ability to uphold their dominion is at risk.” Arthur said carefully when Endymion remained silent. “He believed that my addition to House Leos would help stabilize that.”

  “If you’re even a quarter as powerful as Lord Atreus led us to believe, Arthur, it absolutely would!” Endymion growled fiercely. “You cannot comprehend how important House Leos is to those of us born and raised in Laconian tradition. For them to wither like this, to evaporate like this… it’s wrong. It’s just wrong.” he finished angrily.

  “Then you think my joining them to be a good idea?” Arthur asked with a wry smile.

  “I think it’s a privilege, Arthur.” Endymion said with an earnestness that Arthur had not heard from him. “I think you’d be a bloody fool to pass on it. Even forgetting my passion for House Leos, and putting aside any political reasoning; you becoming their Hetairoi and bringing them out of their crisis would be an act of unbridled might. You’d make yourself a legend.”

  “It’d certainly help you find your own space in Graecia.” Perseus agreed. “With or without Leos as your overlord.”

  Arthur leaned back at their words thoughtfully and folded his arms, his eyes shifting away to stare at the sky above without seeing it. His purpose in Graecia had demanded he find some way of ingratiating himself to someone with power, and certainly this seemed to fit the bill. Whether or not House Leos was a calculated risk or a certainty, however, was yet to be seen. He could always decline the engagement, after all, as long as he hadn’t sworn an oath.

  Endymion’s words stuck with him as well. The passion. The zeal.

  He’d seen that before in his home system, when people spoke of House Zacaris.

  His eyes lowered to look at the people passing in the street, and Arthur made his decision.

  He would go to House Leos as planned, and if they proved to be all that Endymion had said, he would offer them his blade.

  And then, he would give them back their future.

  In the process, perhaps he’d learn more about his own.

  A smile spread across Arthur’s lips at the thought. Perhaps it was the Knight of the Round in him. Perhaps it was the classical and romantic nature of Graecia. Perhaps it was just his own muted, abused, but still-there desire to be a hero.

  Whatever it was, one thing remained constant.

  He really did love fairytale endings.