It could have ended before it ever began, but greedy men chose to push forward and in so doing doomed themselves.
2167 A.D. - The Year of the Rabbit
VonGrippen Manor - Geldan VII
VonGrippen fussed with the black waistcoat, tucking the silver pocket watch into the pocket and electing not to wear a tie. Those that knew him knew that he couldn't stand the restrictive feel of a jacket; they always made him feel old. Pausing there before the mirror and rubbing the new lines that were beginning to form on his cheek.
Thirty-five, old, he smiled as he adjusted his collar and walked towards the door, opening it and stepping out into the hall stopping as he stared at her there, waiting for him. She was radiantly beautiful even after five years, and could still give him pause.
She was wearing a simple grey woollen skirt and blouse, clasped at the throat with one of his mother's broaches. Her small reading glasses perched on her nose giving her the impression of a school ma'am, bookish and academic. An image that had served her well dealing with the upper echelons of House society.
She tsked at him as he closed the old oak door behind him, crossing the upper landing and brushing down the edges of his waistcoat, pausing a moment close to him, feeling his rush of emotions hidden beneath his stoic exterior. A flush of warmth and fondness from him that had grown with time.
"You look like a Highlord," She said proudly, as she brushed the grey wings at his temples.
"I was raised for the part," he shrugged, "though you have a better head for the intricacies of legislation than I do."
"My place is supporting you," Katherine replied fondly smiling at him, "you're still the man they want."
"They want my father," VonGrippen moved to the balcony and looked down at the clusters of people filling the main hall of the ancient house. His father had paid a fortune to have the old manor house shipped, stone by stone from the United Kingdom, insisting that local craftsmen build the structure on the world. Investing more money into the local economy. The house had become a source of great pride on Geldan, a crowning achievement to cap off their self-sufficiency. And VonGrippen had inherited it with the understanding of the importance and significance that each of the old stones represented.
"The recent prosperity has nothing to do with your father, that has been your efforts," Katherine smiled at his modesty, "you've brought a lot of wealth to those people down there, and to the general population of the colony."
"You would think I did it alone," VonGrippen murmured, he turned back to his wife, "a lot of the ideas were yours as well, the shipyard modifications... not to mention the schools."
She took his hand in hers and held it lightly; smiling at him, "you could have forsaken it all, turned the House army outwards, conquered you way across half the colonies before the Americans could react, instead you chose to build infrastructure. That is the mark of a wise leader..."
"Flattery was always your way to getting what you want," VonGrippen replied walking hand in hand with her around the upper galley and stared down the broad steps, Katherine drawing close to him as he took her arm, becoming the model couple, the first family of the colony. The applause of the crowd, as well as a band piping up with a traditional Scottish piece, celebrating Geldan's Scottish heritage.
They mingled with the crowd, VonGrippen pressing hands and nodding as he listened to the concerns of citizens eager to impress upon the Highlord the issues facing them. The successful reverse engineering of the jump drives had brought renewed prosperity out of the recession caused by the Orions severing contact with the House. Colonies that had grown independent and strong found themselves bridged by a new monopoly, VonGrippen's. His strength had grown, as had the popularity of the House, now the only sect of humanity free from the choking economic grasp of the opportunistic aliens.
Katherine excused herself, moving in the direction of the kitchens to ensure that everything was taken care of for the guests. VonGrippen circled on and paused smiling as he entered the library.
Lance was sitting with little Victoria on his lap bouncing her as she burbled happily. Beside him his husband Ben was talking intently with a number of senior members of the Geldan Chamber of commerce. Ben had found himself a prominent role in the financial community of the House, and VonGrippen smiled at the irony.
Once they had returned to Geldan five years before, Lance had made his decision to attend teachers college known to his father. That had gone over like a lead balloon, and the fight had reached a boiling point shortly before Lance had introduced Benjamin to his family. The turn around had been spectacular. The sickly, thin, Mediterranean youth, with his keen intellect and head for numbers had impressed Lance's father. And even then, five years later in the mind of Andrew Malkin, Ben was still considered to be the best decision Lance had ever made.
Singularly it probably was for a number of different reasons. VonGrippen's own finances, heir to the wealthiest estate on Geldan, had been in limbo with the passing of his father. But with the Orion Tradeliner, secreted in the system, there had been a unique opportunity to forward human technology, and under Ben's advice, VonGrippen had invested in the emergent tech market that had made the House, in just five years, one of the foremost producers of advanced technology.
Instead of conquering with their formidable military, the House had gained greatly from other colonies seeking liberty from the Orions and from the war raging back on Earth. Colonists severing their ties to their parent states, waiting for the time when the House Fleet would set a course for Earth with a singular purpose of exacting the Grand Plan.
There was a racket from outside in the gardens, through the open doors on one of the few sunny days in the Geldan summer, a group of Kaynin pups rushed by chasing each other on the broad green lawns, playing with the human children, tussling and rolling over in the grass. The mothers watching from the verandas chuckling and conversing with the human mothers while their children played.
The Kaynin multiplied quickly, already there was a thriving colony of them on Geldan, providing an abundance of labour that fuelled the House expansion. At first they had been received with caution by the existing colonists, but that had grown into a warm friendship as the Kaynin brought their winning personalities and bred loyalties to the work force. A Kaynin never quit, they persevered, their successes were shared with their company, and a company loss was a personal one to a Kaynin. That impressed the residents of Geldan and with the inclusion of Kaynin pups in Geldan schools, Geldan had continued to grow and prosper.
"Herr VonGrippen," a bushy moustached man in a VonGrippen uniform caught the Highlord's arm and pulled him aside, "my apologies for the interruption on what must be a happy day for you, but I was hoping to discuss your plans for continued colonial independence."
VonGrippen shook his head, "I'm sorry that is a matter for the House Assembly, my viewpoints are common knowledge, I believe that in order for the colony to continue to prosper we should maintain our distance from Earth... and the affairs on the homeworld."
"It is a naive notion, Highlord, to presume that war will never touch Geldan. Already the United States has seized control of a majority of the colony worlds. Europe is loosing its war, and rumour has it that China will soon stir from its slumber..."
VonGrippen slowly detached the man's tight grip from his arm, "with respect, Major," he glanced at the uniform, "I am aware of what is transpiring back on Earth. However the likelihood of an invasion on Geldan soil is... remote. But even if it were to occur I have faith in our defence force's capabilities to hold the United States at bay."
"You lack the experience that age brings," The major huffed at VonGrippen's lack of concern to his warnings, "if you had developed any wisdom..."
VonGrippen bowed his head, "I don't recall your name, Major, being on the invitation list," he held up his hand and snapped his fingers for a pair of House Guards that were watching in the doorway. He turned to them, "the Major was just leaving."
The Major bristled, his moustache twitching as he turned and marched, escorted by the pair of guards towards the doors.
"What happened?" Katherine asked, drawn by the commotion as she set a small platter of canapés down on a side table.
VonGrippen rubbed his temple, "a retired major in the defence forces who seems to feel that the US are coming."
"Are they?" she inquired.
"There is no indication that they are," VonGrippen responded calmly, walking to the window as the Major was politely shown to his car, "however we are ready for them in case they do decide to turn up. Just something about him struck me the wrong way."
"That doesn't sound like you," Katherine rested her hand on his arm, feeling how unsettled he was inside at the omen, "maybe you should talk to Colonel McGregor and see about running a few drills, have the men on standby alert or something."
VonGrippen nodded his head, "what would I do without you?"
"Worry yourself to death and not let anyone see it," Katherine replied kissing him gently on the cheek, she patted his arm again and swept off, leaving VonGrippen to wonder what a woman as strong as her ever saw in a cold, rigid man like him.
* * *
"Senator, a moment of your time..." The reporters jogged to keep pace with his long strides, a few others bringing up their cameras and trying to get pictures of the newly re-elected Senator for San Francisco.
"As soon as this meeting is complete," The Senator replied holding up his hand as he warded them off, walking towards the gates of the White House. He often walked, even in the depths of winter; it made more sense for him to do so. It reminded him that he was more than just a stuffed suit and a tie, that he was still a human being. A man of the people.
The Senator wasn't kept waiting long, he was shown through the doors of the Oval office as the President concluded a meeting with several South American ambassadors. It was one of the few ground successes America had managed to exploit during the war, and combined with the victories in space it technically kept the war tilted in the Americans favour. Of course were it not for the North African disaster, where a brilliant German general had run circles around the American forces, the war would have been over two years ago.
General Sarah Merkht was a brilliant young woman, and she wasn't afraid to exploit the weaknesses in the American supply lines, as long as she remained in Africa there was little hope for an American victory there. The surprise was that intelligence data on her placed her age around eighteen, unheard of... She'd been only sixteen when she had beaten back the experienced American forces, and forced a General four times her age to surrender during the battle of Morocco.
The President wasn't alone, a young man, in his mid twenties was standing dutifully at his shoulder shaking the Ambassadors hands as they passed the President. As they were shown out of the office the President turned his attention on the Senator.
"Randy," he said as they shook hands, "glad you could join us, we've had a tough run of things of late."
Randy nodded as he sat, unbuttoning his jacket and crossing his legs, "it's wartime Mister President, things are supposed to be tough."
"That's not what I mean," the President replied nodding to the other man, who brought across a stack of numbers, "there are always difficult times due to war, but I mean in our approval ratings. We're sliding as long as the war continues. People are beginning to loose sight of the end of it, and as the casualties continue to mount..."
"We should be thankful at least that so far we've managed to keep the nuclear exchanges limited to the occasional tactical strike..."
"On Earth," The President clarified, "outside of orbit they're flying thick and fast, every time we have a tussle, nukes end up the decisive factor. And you're right, we've been lucky that we've managed to keep it... clean here on Earth, but that's simply a truth of the war, they know if they start hurling nukes, we'd retaliate proportionally and that would be the end of it, and so visa versa... However this is also the problem preventing us from pressing the war. If we push too hard what is to stop then from winding up in a scenario where they have nothing to lose? We need to seek a resolution to this conflict before it annihilates all of us."
"The war has the support of both houses, unlike you, sir." Randy shifted, the President's approval rating was at a phenomenal low point and sinking as more attention drifted from the war and focused upon economic problems that came from fuelling the endless grinding war that wore down people, financial coffers and patience. The President had won the last election two years before on sheer luck, the race had been close, to the point of terrifying the administration. However he had managed to hold on to his leadership by his fingernails.
The President rubbed his mostly grey hair, remembering that it had been brown back before the war had started, but then the war had changed a lot of things. "we need to revitalize things, before I wind up a lame duck President."
"Shake things up, you mean," Randy folded his arms as he sat staring at the President, "are you sure that's a good idea? I mean there is a war on, and change for change sake..."
"No," The President gestured emphatically with his hand, "I need to ensure that my legacy is carried on into the next administration, can you imagine if Senator Chambers or Governor Sanchez were elected?" He shook his head firmly, "the only way to keep the war hawks at bay is to ensure a good man is in the white house, a good man with a dynamic Vice-president. To do that... we're going to have to clean house, remove those who would oppose my choice for the presidential candidate and put someone in place who can win. Someone we can count on to keep the nuclear treaty here on Earth."
"Tall order Mister President," Randy sighed, "but finding a person like that would be diff..." He paused looking into the President's eyes, realizing with a sinking feeling that the President had already found his man.
The President smiled standing, "I'm going to make you the President of the United States Randy."
"Aw hell," Randal James Macdonald closed his eyes, "who the hell are you going to pair me up with?"
"I want you to meet Congressman Markus Aquinas," the President gestured to the young man standing off to one side, and Randy paused to give the youth the once over, rubbing his chin, "Aquinas, you were the young man elected a few months ago in Florida."
"A dark horse candidate," The President replied with a firm smile, "he fought a brilliant campaign, and the voters responded well to him. Give him a double term as Vice-President; he could very well become the President after you. Possibly beating JFK's record as the youngest President."
Randy chewed his lip, "you think his luck will hold for a Presidential run?"
"I'm convinced he's the right choice as your running mate," the President smiled, "and given how sick the populace are with the status quo, he'd come across as a fresh face, something they'd be curious about."
"My experience, his charm..." Randy stood at last looking across at Markus, "I hope your nose is clean, kid, cause if it isn't we're going to find out."
Markus smiled a dazzling smile, "I assure you Senator Macdonald, there is nothing in my history that would be detrimental to this campaign."
"It's amazing," the President stated, "he's completing a law degree attending night school at a University here in Washington while serving in Congress, and still pulling off top marks. In two years he'll have it, amidst a flurry of publicity right before you announce your running mate... it's a perfect lead in for your campaign."
Randy nodded, "so long as he can spell, I don't see why not." He extended his hand to the young man, shaking it firmly, "we're bottom in the polls, the only way is up from here."
"Absolutely," Markus reassured, "and I have a campaign that will impress even the staunchest opponent."
* * *
She dined on the veranda, looking out across the Mediterranean watching the supply ship burn as it slipped slowly beneath the crystal blue waters while she buttered her scone. Lifting it to her lips and enjoying the fresh taste, as before her men and women fought for their lives to survive.
The ship was Greek, running supplies to Italy, had been torpedoed, probably by an American attack sub that skulked beneath the waves. A silent predator wreaking havoc upon European shipping, trying to stop the funnel of supplies and troops that fed the North African forces.
The news was ripe with propaganda pieces all concerning the prodigy of a German general who had turned the fate of Europe from imminent defeat into a sound victory. Sarah had always been a brilliant strategist; Sephradon could appreciate that as she slipped the last piece of scone into her mouth. There were news reports cropping up across the world of brilliant young men and women stepping into roles across the world.
Jabin had appeared in a brief news report working the Japanese stock exchange, founding the Denver Corporation, in just five years it had been rated one of the fastest growing corporations in the world. There were rumours about a scientist in Russia making vast leaps forward in fusion technology, which would give a valued boost to the floundering Russian economy that so far had profited handsomely off of the war effort, yet still seemed on the verge of economic collapse. Of course CNN two years before had done a brief piece concerning a young Congressman, Markus Aquinas... He was the consummate politician; it was only natural that he find his way into power somewhere.
"It's a shame," The rich baritone, with its heavy Orion accent commented as he came out of the French doors from the villa, "that war has spoiled such a beautiful morning."
She hated him, he made her skin crawl. Ambassador Damarra owned a number of prominent businesses, profiting handsomely every time a ship was sunk in the Mediterranean. It meant that the owners would come to him seeking to replace it, of course given the war's drain on resources, the replacement vessel would naturally cost more to build... A war profiteer in the worst sense.
He touched her exposed shoulder, drawing his hand up and around her neck, running through her silken hair. Gnarled hands, withered with age. Every touch reminding her of the youth that was stolen from her, his hot breath on her neck reminding her of her innocence that he had taken.
She would kill him, of that she was certain. Just as soon as she could convince him to alter his will, and leave his formidable fortune to her. Until then she had to weather his caresses, and resist the urge to strike him down for his lechery.
"Does my petal wish a boat to take her to the mainland?" he asked his lips brushing her neck, kissing up towards his ear.
She cooed coyly, her hand reaching up to trace down his cheek, "are you going?"
"I was contemplating it, I have business at the office, perhaps we could do lunch in Milan?" He kissed her lightly, "you could do some shopping..."
"A wedding dress?" She asked hopefully, trying not to appear over eager.
Damarra lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the diamond ring on her slender finger, "it would have to be beautiful to contend with your radiance."
She sighed, fixing a light smile across her lips, "I love you," she lied without effort.
"And I you, mio amore," he kissed her fingers again standing, "I will tell Giani to prepare the launch."
Sephradon allowed the smile to fade from her lips as she settled into her chair, five years of hell. Of playing coy for that man to be positioned where she wanted him. Recovered by the Orions in one of the Cargo pods, the battery of tests performed on her, the torment. Only to be rescued from it by Damarra, his kindness underlying his own ambitions. He sought to use her, and she had played innocent, watching him, and learning from him as he played games of state.
She had adapted quickly, using his generosity as a means to get close to him, coiling herself like an asp around him, bending him little by little to her will. Using all of her skills and intelligence to grow his fortune for him, killing his competitors with a thought. And after five years she was finally going to reap the rewards for her patience.
She touched her napkin to the corners of her lips as she stared out again at the floundering supply ship. It's stern now pointing skywards as it slid faster beneath the sea. Pulling lives down with it as it sank. A delicate tandem of death that made her appreciate her own life.
* * *
"I grow impatient," The Highlady commented from the upper tier of the veranda, resting her arms on the balustrade as she glared at the woman finishing her breakfast below.
"Patience is often its own reward," Damarra remarked as he stood beside her, "she believes she has positioned me where she wants me, and soon she will be ready to be tested. She is a formidable assassin..."
"You're bank accounts have benefited greatly from that," the Highlady replied testily, "when I agreed to this, it was with the understanding that this... creature would be used to restore me to power."
"And so she will, but first she has to be prepared for the role she is to serve. In order to guide her hand, I must first engineer her... anger. It will allow us to shape her rage and direct it. She is not alone..."
"There are others like her?" The Highlady sneered.
"We believe there are more," Damarra nodded, his ivory eyes sparkled, "there is an interesting man in Japan who has caught our attention, and our spies place a few in China..."
"I expect results Damarra," the Highlady snapped as she marched back into the Villa, leaving Damarra to smile after her.
"Oh she will deliver them," Damarra smiled after her. Knowing that the Highlady's usefulness would soon be at an end, the fleet traversing the Beacon Corridor would seal the fate of House VonGrippen.
* * *
General Chow, the Great Yellow Dragon, the Warlord of Manchuria and the undisputed master of Asia sat upon the Dragon Throne staring down at the general's before him, their foreheads firmly planted upon the floor as they Kow-towed before him. Each of them responsible for another facet of his grand plan. Each veterans of the Philippines campaign that had brought the errant nations under the Chinese banner, and part of the new Chinese Republic.
"The preparations are not complete," Chow kept his tone even, his Foo-man-choo moustache adding to his imperious appearance. Like an Emperor out of the past, the Party Chairman had doubled the occupied territories since he had come to power, expanding throughout Asia and south towards Australia as he united it all, bringing stability to the region after hundreds of years of conflict.
"The weather has not co-operated General," one of the men before him spoke up, "however the last of our units are in position and will be ready within the day."
"And our aircraft carriers?" Chow asked, looking towards the Admiral to the right of the others, "are they ready to begin?"
"They are yours to command General," the Admiral swore soundly taking great pride in the fact that his forces were ready on time.
"And what of the Americans?" Chow demanded resting his hands imperiously upon the arms of his throne, the same that had once belonged to the last Emperor of China, it was ironic how things always seemed to come in a full circle back to where they began.
"The Americans have voiced no complaint, your annexation of Taiwan and the Philippines. Those actions should have garnered a response from the United States, but they seem loathe to press for retaliation." An Intelligence specialist reported.
"That is because they are distracted by Europe," Chow responded, "as long as they focus upon one another we are free to act with impunity on our side of the Pacific. Our space fleet?"
"We have one hundred frigate class vessels and two aero-space carriers that are currently nearing completion in our primary shipyards," the Admiral reported. It had been a brilliant idea, a way to hide the Chinese ultimate aims, the People's Liberation Army had commenced work on a space fleet in naval dry docks, making it appear to American spy satellites like they were constructing more surface naval ships. A ruse that was the hallmark of General Chow's brilliance. Like his grand invasion.
"Then you shall launch the invasion of Australia," Chow replied folding his hands in his lap as he sat back upon the throne, "and remind the world that China has not forgotten that it once ruled unchallenged, and will once more."
* * *
"This is a beautiful house," Octavius remarked as he was shown into VonGrippen's study, an oak panelled room. It was lined with old books and maps, a collection rare to find outside of an Earth museum. The lead lined windows looked out over the rain swept lawns of the manor as the sky crackled darkly.
"My father had good taste," VonGrippen replied as he took a seat in one of the high wing backed chairs beside the crackling fire, motioning for the Kaynin Alpha to do the same.
Octavius sat, looking small in the big chair, the firelight playing off of his youthful face. The Kaynin never seemed to age, staying perpetually youthful and full of vigour, Octavius had been named the colonies Alpha from the beginning and had stayed so ever since the Kaynin colony had been formed on Geldan. However, the Alpha-females had changed quite frequently, Octavius having a roving eye and a love of courtship.
There was a knock at the door and Benjamin stepped inside, pulling the door closed behind him, taking off his tie as he came and sat down, "I'm sorry Vickie wouldn't fall asleep," he looked exhausted as he sank into the chair, "she has trouble in the big beds here though Lance is staying with her."
"Don't worry about it," VonGrippen reassured pulling out his silver pocket watch and checking the time, some ridiculous hour of the night, after the busy day of speeches and shaking hands, he was glad to simply be able to put his feet up and relax.
"We make a strange sight," Octavius commented lounging back in the big chair that seemed to almost swallow him, "children who have inherited the Earth."
"Being the oldest one in the room, I resent that," VonGrippen commented dryly, "it's been a long day."
"But productive," Benjamin chimed in bowing out a long sigh, "the House Assembly seems satiated with promises of our continued independence, the economy is strong, and the military is content to wait for your order, Highlord, to commence the grand plan," he pointed over to the Falcon Banner that hung in a corner of the study.
"The promise of the glory that war will bring is seductive to the ears of those that seek more than they have," Octavius agreed thoughtfully, "we stand alone, and many in the House remember the fire of your father's speeches concerning the future." Octavius sighed tiredly, "there are those that feel we're hesitating. That we have grown complacent in our new found wealth. Hiding behind the technological advancements we have 'made'," Octavius chuckled knowing full well where the advancements had come from, "hoping they will help us defend ourselves. How long until the war touches this world? Already I am hearing rumours from the Orion traders that come out this way that my people are being deployed to fight on Earth."
"That is the crux of the problem isn't it?" VonGrippen inquired, "how insular are we? And what of the other colonies? They may choose to follow our lead, or they may choose to stand against us. And while our economy is growing, we are growing dependant on our ability to sell our advances to the other worlds."
Ben rubbed a finger across his eyebrow, scratching at his olive coloured skin looking up at VonGrippen, "honest assessment here VG, you need to ask yourself, will Earth leave us alone as a rogue state?"
VonGrippen shook his head, "no, we've developed Jump drives, the single most important technology for human evolution. It's the key to the war, it's the future of mankind and they can't simply ignore it. We have jump drive technology, a fully functional starship, as well as enough freighters and transports to take the burden of interstellar travel for ourselves. And the moment the powers-that-be back on Earth realize we have it, they are going to shift their war from Earth and drop it right on our doorsteps." He took a long and deep breath, "and they are going to have no compunction about using nuclear weaponry on a backwater colony in the far reaches of nowhere."
There was silence in the room as the three friends digested that fact, knowing that VonGrippen was right. They were painting a great target upon their colony, and yet the technology was too important to simply ignore. Without jump drives humanity was stagnating, dependant upon the exploitation of an alien race.
"We could close the Beacon Corridor," Octavius suggested.
"The beacon route is the only thing connecting us to the rest of the universe," Ben replied suppressing a cough as he sat uncomfortably forward in the chair, loosening his collar, "it took nearly a hundred years to lay the jump beacons to navigate the corridor. How many people lost their lives just to reach this sector? If we cut the beacons, we'd be isolating ourselves for at least another hundred years, providing Earth was willing to spend those kind of resources again." His quiet, but firm tones sounded squarely against the idea.
"It's an extreme measure," VonGrippen held up a finger and shook his head,"however, it is one that may have to be considered if it means the difference between Geldan surviving as a free entity or becoming yet another occupied territory for the United States."
Ben slumped back, his shoulders sagging as he gave in and began to cough, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, "I'm sorry, it's probably the weather. I'll never get used to the damp."
VonGrippen looked behind him to the windows streaming with water flowing over them, "I find rain relaxing, I trust it. It keeps things... clean."
"Shouldn't we be thinking of positive things?" Octavius offered, "the jump dives have out performed expectations. There has been nothing to stop us from exploring this sector, expanding our mineral resources and the establishment of two new colonies. If we cut the corridor, then what do we really loose?"
"Still dreaming of a Kaynin homeworld?" Ben smiled as he pulled a leg up under him, "you know with all the pollution from Geldan infecting Kaynin culture you might simply end up calling this home."
"Oh, aside from developing a keen fixation with the English language I could never develop a taste for tea," Octavius grinned, "plus with so many of my kinsmen on Earth fighting this war, they need to have some kind of hope for something better. And a world of our own... Well that establishes us as equals does it not?"
"It does in my book," VonGrippen agreed, "in the eyes of Geldan law, Kaynin, human, construct or alien, a sentient life form is a sentient life form..."
"... Free to live, love and learn." Octavius and Ben quoted VonGrippen's platform on equality.
"I'm glad at least someone listens to me," VonGrippen smiled staring again into the flames, "and what about prophesy?" he glanced at Ben again.
Ben shrugged, "the future shifts with each decision we make, although my gifts have allowed me to make some sound investment choices over the years..." He looked at VonGrippen a long moment before speaking quietly, "you can't stay on Geldan. Too much depends on you bringing war out there, the House was built upon the back of a strong military, and it must have a purpose. Bored armies are dangerous, they breed mutiny... and revolution."
"I know," VonGrippen responded rubbing his jaw, "I know..."