Kira tapped on the display screen of her Coms-pad, an item she received from her father as a sort of congratulatory gift when he received news of her transfer to the 144th Direwolves. It had been a rough go for the past year, to say the least, and for the first little while she refused to stay in touch with family back on Eden Prime. But time is the greatest healer, and now more than ever Kira used every opportunity she could to talk to her folks back home -- mother, father and sister alike. She was sitting on her bunk, knees pulled up to her chest and cozied up in a sweater and sweatpants.
"Elise? Are you there?"
"Kira!" the pad burst to life, the face of her sister exploding onto the screen in HD. It caught Kira off guard. She turned the volume down a few clicks.
Elise was dolled up, the full spectrum of make-up and cosmetics accentuating her already natural prettiness. Both girls took from their mother, also known as Madame Estelle.. . also known as the Vindicator to anybody in the fashion world. Kira knew it was around this time her mother would be throwing one of her galaxy-famous fashion galas in Paris. Eden Prime had three cultural defining exports: pilots from the 207th, fine wines, and forefront ideas for fashion and design. It was a busy time of the year, Kira distinctly remembering all the hustle and bustle from when she was a young child.
Kira smiled, "Are you too busy to talk now? I can call later,"
"No! Of course not. Goodness Kira in the next week I won't be able to talk to you at all, we may as well catch up now! Oh--" she cut herself off abruptly, reaching off screen and putting on what Kira could only describe as.. . a hat? It looked like a silver sombrero, trimmed gold with the most defining feature being ten different kinds of stuffed exotic birds striking different poses across the rim. Kira tilted her head with a curious frown and before she could ask Elise interrupted her.
"Well? What do you think? Mom has me working the runway this year and this'll be the defining piece. It's the headpiece of a set we're calling "Foreign Wings", it's supposed to be a clash between increasing urbanization and nature,"
"Elise, it looks like you have a zoo on your head,"
There was a moment of silence before the two girls burst out laughing. It went on for five minutes before Elise slipped off the hat, lighting a cigarette and adjusting the screen so she could get a better view of her pilot sister.
"So darling, how are you feeling? Big day today isn't it?"
"I guess you can say that," Kira smirked, "I'm fucking nervous as hell. I haven't flown combat in a long time,"
Elise shrugged, raising an eyebrow, "Not that I know myself, but I'm sure it's like riding a bike. Plus you're good Kira. Like really good. Talent like that doesn't just vanish into thin air, y'know?"
Elise turned, talking to somebody off screen. Moments later her father and mother appeared into view as well. A Lawrence family reunion.
Her mother spoke first in a high pitched tone that Kira could never get used to, "Kira! Oh, my beautiful darling. You look wonderful!" she squinted, then widened her eyes in horror, "But my God... your ends! Kira they're splitting! Does the Navy give you proper hair treatments?! Oils and ointments Kira, I'm going to send you some right away, where -- ,"
"Mom stop," she rolled her eyes, watching Elise holding in a stifled grin while father just shook his head.
"She has a point Kira. Now that I think about it your hair's sort of looking dull..." Elise added, Kira could hear her mom let out a squeaky gasp through mortified expression.
"Alright, enough, enough," the Colonel stepped in, "Let me talk to my daughter. Be gone you harlots," he shooed them away, Elise stuck out her tongue before disappearing.
Kira straightened herself as she saw her father's face planted on the screen. Words couldn't express the admiration or gratitude she had for having such a strong figure in her life, kindly guiding her throughout her career but never stepping on her toes. His hair was graying, slicked back and full with a trimmed beard worthy of a wise, senior officer. Colonel Lawrence had started his career in the Marines before pursuing the necessary education to become a pilot. It was Kira's guess that that was where his fair but stern leadership qualities had blossomed.
"Sir,"
"Kira," a smile stole his face -- pride, "How are you feeling?"
"Fine,"
The Colonel looked at her suspiciously, "And you've been sleeping well? Are you still on the medications Dr. Steinn prescribed you?"
"Yes sir, 150mg of Venlafaxine, 25mg of Amitriptyline, 5mg of Ondansetron and 15mg of Omeprazole.. ."
It seems every time the two would talk the Colonel would make her recite her medications. Quite frankly, she hated it. There was nothing worse than a constant reminder of being reliant on synthetically altered neuro-receptors to get through the day. But she needed it, and while Colonel Lawrence was against it at first he was finally convinced after a series of long conversations with some of the best doctors available. Kira knew he meant well, as he always does, but this was one thing he wouldn't understand. Colonel Lawrence never fucked up as badly as Lieutenant Lawrence did. She was rust on what otherwise would have been a pristine family name. These anti-depressants did just their name-sake, and they did it well.
"And I sleep well. Usually. Alcohol helps. And drugs. Heroin mostly," she gave her father a sly grin, which was not reciprocated in the slightest.
"Not funny Kira,"
"It was a joke, papa,"
Colonel Lawrence groaned, scratching his head and returning his attention back to the screen.
"Kira just know that I am so proud of you. Despite everything you've been through you're still a fine young lady with a bright future ahead. And remember you have us, Elise and Estelle? We'll always be here to talk if you need to, I promise. I know you'll do due diligence with the 144th, I know you'll make the 207th proud. But remember, you have nothing to prove. When your contract is over you're more than welcome to come back to Eden. We miss you, always,"
Kira choked back a lump in her throat, doing her best not to get emotional. The truth is she really did miss home. She didn't realize how much she missed it until she left for the 17th. She was about to speak but the Colonel got to it first.
"I love you Starchild,"
The blonde girl sighed, burying her face in her knees before looking back up to him, "I wish you'd stop calling me that,"
The colonel laughed, throwing up his hands in innocence, "Not a chance. I don't care how far away you are, you're still my child and you'll always be stars in my eyes,"
"Papa -- I..,"
Words escaped her. The tears did not.
"Oh Kira, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to --,"
"No it's okay," she waved him off, "I just miss you guys,"
All hands, The Galatia will be exiting hyperspace in 30 minutes. Elevating readiness to Alert 1, report to your commanding officers and await further orders buzzed over the intercom. Kira straightened herself once more, wiping away tears.
"I've got to go,"
The colonel nodded, "Show those direpups a taste of Eden, and give commander Knight my regards," he saluted then looked over his shoulder yelling, "Elise! Bring your mom in and say goodbye to our littlest,"
The two women burst into the room with sunny smiles waving, wishing her the best.
"I'll send you some hair products within a week! But Kira for goodness sake take better care of yourself! Or you'll start looking like some ragged off the research station!" "Shit kick some Varaxian ass little sis!" "Hey! Watch your mouth!"
Kira smiled, overwhelmed with gratitude. She kissed her hand and placed it on the camera.
"Thanks guys, I love you. I'll see you soon,"
Kira turned off the com-pad, taking a moment to compose herself in the eery silence of her small cubicle of a room. It felt isolating, not that the feeling was something she was unfamiliar with. Her time with the 17th was short, but it opened her eyes to a whole new perspective of the Navy. A world where the lowliest enlisted could talk so casually to the highest ranking officer on the ship. All her life she had been exposed to a class system, and to see such interactions was truly enlightening. She could only hope the lessons she learned there would serve her well during her stay with the Direwolves.
The first hour of being herded around like cattle was exhausting. Officers ordering to and fro, bright eyed pilots who had never flown a craft in action mouths agape while the battle hardened vets leaned up against the walls with judgmental eyes. Kira was unsure what to identify herself as. She hadn't been on the cockpit of a T-88 in a long time, but she had flew enough missions to have earned some semblance of respect. The dichotomy gave her an uneasy feeling as she remembered watching crew personnel from all walks of life go about their day.
Then there was the will, which didn't take long at all. Truth be told she had it written up a long time ago by her lawyers back in Eden. When you were offspring of a family with such a highly regarded title it was best to leave the legal mumbo jumbo to people who took an interest in that. Kira's was fairly straight forward: in the event of death all assets would be sent to her family. Not that she had much to begin with. She had never owned property, though she did own a numerous amount of outrageously expensive bracelets her mother would send to her. Kira smirked, bless her soul.
She got off the bed, moving to the mirror with her duffel and rummaging through it to grab her cosmetics bag. There was this officer culture back in the 207th, one that demanded all officers personnel (unless they were on field exercise) wore their dress uniform while on duty. Whether it was to eat or brief or spending an entire day doing paperwork it mattered not. It's origins probably had something to do with Eden Prime being the self-proclaimed fashion and branding utopia, and to be honest Kira didn't mind in the slightest. She thought it made everybody look more professional. Look good, feel good, play good as the old motto said. Kira pulled up her stockings, adjusting her side cap. She gave one last glance at herself in the mirror before slipping on some slingback heels and proceeded into the hall.
The Galatia was an engineering marvel in itself, and though she had been on vessels not unlike this one many times before the fact that this one had seen its fair share of action made it all the more special. The Galatia was also the home of the 144th Direwolves. The name daunted her. They were a group that made a name for themselves in the during the Vega Crisis, and Kira could distinctly remember her father go on ends about they did what they could with what they had. Their motto truly held strong, something Kira was unfamiliar to with the 207th who nurtured a strike hard, fast and quick mentality. But she was determined to adapt, and even more so make right her reputation. A numbing pain shot through the back of her head and Kira winced from it. Sudden offsets like that came and went, depending on how much she thought about the issue.
At -0025 Kira arrived to the briefing room, 5 minutes punctual as was her norm. She pressed the opening button and floated in, grabbing the rail on the side. The room was sparse save for a few pilots scattered here and there and a few up front. Of peculiar note was the Harridan nestled in amongst the sea of chairs. Interesting she thought. She had heard the stories of the Direwolves having the first foreign species pilot, but she didn't actually believe them to be true. After a moment of waiting Kira decided on a spot near the back. She gracefully floated over, ignoring the side glances shot her way as she strapped herself in.
Well Kira, don't you dare fuck this one up.
She sat up straight, waiting for the commanders arrival.
Lanik held the exhausted elf, grabbing her on the sides of her shoulders and propping her up as best he could. Reaching over his own shoulder he unclipped one side of his cape, then the other, then swung the light blue drape over her form. It was the best he could do to salvage whatever dignity she had left among the Imperials gathered around, still yelling and cursing, though Lanik could not help but feel a few of their eyes upon them. It was well known fact that his father had long before iterated the idea that his Rangers could not own slaves. An idea based solely on function, the rangers were created to be self sufficient, and having a slave was counterproductive to that idea. Lanik met Erudessa's gaze, pushing stray locks of silver hair behind her pointed ears and pulling over her hood. She would stand out in a city full of Imperials, and it would be in his best interest to keep her ambiguous (her hair did not help in the slightest). At least until he figured out what the hell he was going to do next. Anywhere than here, he thought.
"Shh," he spoke softly, but sternly, "Keep your head down, don't look anyone in the eyes,"
He grabbed her by her wrist and led them away through the crowd. Despite Lanik's disguise he knew she would stand out. He moved quickly even though he knew she was barely composed to move at such speed. The sedative the slavers used were much akin to the ones he tipped his arrows with during his military campaigning in the Southern part of the Empire. It was extremely potent stuff with enough kick to fell even the most powerful of beasts. How she managed to even keep her eyes open was beyond him. It must be something related to elven biology that he knew nothing about.
The duo were soon standing outside the auction house. There were several whistles and cheers from officer passersby, a common occurrence when any officer lands a particularly good find at the auction. He helped her saddle first, then himself.
"Hold on," he said, and with a HYAH! the mount was off.
Lanik made his way through the maze of twists and turns of the Imperial capital. It was hustle and bustle all around, vendors and beggars calling out their pleas into the air as gypsies danced about to a foreign tune. There was a culture here, one a person could only find if they looked past all the violence and slaving and murder and bloodshed. It was instilled in Lanik to believe the society around someone does not force them into being a bad person. Being here, seeing the common Imperial folk only bolstered that regard.
"You're lucky I arrived when I did," he said over his shoulder, "Captain Moor is skilled at what he does, however sick you may think it is,"
He listened to her response, if there was one.
The decided destination was the small and quaint Wintergate estate located just on the outskirts of the city wall. It was a small house, given to Gregoir by the King after deciding Lord Wintergate would have a place in Midhaven politics. It screamed of continental design. White, square and boxy with a large pergola beckoning visitors into the front door from the pathway. Cedar lattice accented the front of the house, with green vines sprawling all over the grid. Lanik dismounted, helping Erudessa off and leading her into the house. They walked in the front-entry, an open area with old antique furniture sleeping here and there throughout the room. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the bedroom, motioning her to sit on the bed.
"Rest here while I.. . decide on what to do with you," he rubbed his face, scratching his head while moving to the corner of the room where a dresser sat. His voice betrayed something.. . regret? Hesitation? Lanik was uncertain. After rummaging through for a moment he grabbed one of his old shirts and a pair of pants. He tossed it towards her when he heard a knock on the front door.
Shit.
Lanik looked back to Erudessa, "Get dressed," he said before attending to the visitor. He approached, turning the knob with a creak and cracking the door open.
"Brother," Darian grinned, "Word spreads quickly y'know. I thought Rangers couldn't own slaves?" there was a menace in his voice Lanik had never heard before.
✱ ✲ ✳ ✴ ✵
When Erudessa would awake she would be greeted by a young girl. Ten by the looks of it? She sat on the edge of the bed, poking, pulling and prodding at her pointed ears with a childish curiosity observed through bright emerald eyes. She was a very pretty girl dressed in a blue and white dress, with raven hair and a shade of skin between pale and foreign. Freckles dotted her face innocently around her petite nose. The girls gaze widened in amazement, as if she were a scientist discovering a new formula or solution to an equation that had long been bogging the mind.
"You're an elf! You're a real elf!" she tugged at Erudessa's ear one more time. A sunny smile engulfed her face, then almost in the same instant turned into a suspicious frown.
"But.. . you couldn't be. Uncle Darian told me that.. ." she puffed out her chest, placing her hands at her side and expanding her cheeks as if to emulate a particular someone. She spoke with the lowest tone of voice as she possibly could.
You nasty elves are stinks with horns and claws.
She let out a childish laugh then sat on the floor looking for breath. That impression must have taken a bit out of her. Sitting up with legs stretched out in front of her, she tilted her head and eyed Erudessa very closely.
"But.. . you're definitely not that. You're very pretty. You're a very pretty elf," she lowered her voice to a whisper.
"Don't tell father I said that," she paused for a moment, looking up at the ceiling and suddenly snapping back her attention to the elf as if suddenly remembering something.
My name is Marië. Do you want to see me do a magic trick?
The assault had gone better than expected -- almost too well. Supply lines between the newly established front and the previous Imperial garrison were now secured, and legionnaires were making their way to and from the front. Under Lanik's order his rangers were dispersed throughout the front-line forces, acting as knowledgeable liaisons between the undiscovered forests of Aetherion and the Imperial officers. From what he understood what his men were doing proved to be invaluable to the spearheading forces, and he could not be prouder. The Covenant Rangers were making a name for themselves, not simply under the guise as the hooded men of the North.
While Rayne was in charge of the cohort during his absence, Lanik made his way to Midhaven on horseback alongside Darian and his personal guard. Fin had been dispatched back to Northaven, where mages with magical talent beyond his expertise could assist him with the new life he was to embark on. Lanik cringed at the thought. He could not imagine an existence bound to a chair should the mages magic fail. He wished the best to his man.
There was a distilled silence between the duo as they made way down the road tread by so many others before them. The rolling hills West of them and the lush forests to the East, dotting farming villages sprouting up here and there as far as the eye can see. The sun was at its highest point in the sky prompting Lanik to pull over his hood. He noted the looks of the farmers working their fields, the shepherds lazily watching their herd run amok among the vivid green grasses like a tarp over cresting mounds. The sun was hot, and he could feel himself boil underneath his ranger plate mail. But Midhaven was not terribly far away, so he did not complain.
And while the trek had been long Lanik kept occupied with the thought of the mysterious elf he had encountered in the forest. Kindness was something seldom encountered in the field of battle, and yet she had shown more than such. Guilt stung Lanik’s gut as he remembered the look she gave as she was being dragged away. He was not a man who would sit idly by while a person he was indebted to was dragged off in chains. As warlike as his beloved Imperial culture was, that did not mean all soldiers under said banner functioned without honor. She would most like be sold off into slavery.. . unless Captain Moor had something else in mind. He shuddered. By Lanik's account she would be at the grand auction house in Midhaven, thus giving reason to his trek back to the mighty capital.
Lanik couldn't help but note Darian's change in disposition compared to the last time they spoke. The usually jovial and amiable little Darian was keeping to himself, as if experiencing a sudden mood-spell. He even was riding in the front of the line, Lanik four horses to his rear. It was strange to say the least. Darian must not have found the glory he was expecting during his assault on Aetherion. Though.. . he had plenty of time. The invasion had only begun, and this victory only marked the first of a long line of treacherous campaigns to push further into the heart of elven country.
Marië was finding her way into Lanik's thoughts ever since the journey began. Luck, as it would see fit would grant Lanik another visit with his beloved daughter. One misstep scaling that cliff with Finnigan on his back.. . one wrong direction through the forest.. . hell one single encounter with an elf not so keen on his aid and Lanik would have been a dead man. He was thankful before he left to have Rayne send out a few of his rangers to her school and escort her personally back to Midhaven where he would be meeting her. And though the they shared great distances apart, Lanik was never uninformed about her safety. He was looking forward to seeing her.
The captain reared his horse and galloped to the front, sick of the silence and curious to see if he could break Darian's acrimonious mood.
"It's strange Darian," Lanik said, "I figured with such a great victory you would be more talkative than you usually are. Not the opposite,"
Darian sighed, pulling his blonde lock behind his ears and looking over to see his brother, "Why didn't tell me you had Marië escorted by your personal guard. She is my niece brother, and I'd like to know about these things,"
Lanik frowned at such an odd statement, "I didn't I was supposed to. And she may be your niece but she's my daughter," and that was the truth. It was perplexing to hear that since Darian had never shown an interest in Marië's well-being before.
Darian gave a halfhearted grunt before pointing in the distance, catching Lanik's gaze ahead. He gave a nod before proceeding forward.
Midhaven loomed in the distance, beckoning the group ever closer in the shadow of her ferocity. To this day Lanik's breath was taken away every time he saw the ivory towers standing center, shooting upwards and prodding the light blue that cast over the city on a day like today. As he passed through the mighty wrought iron gates into the city Darian briefly turned to him.
"I'll be in the military quarter," he gave a nod before taking off. Lanik sat there perched on his horse, watching his little brother and cohort of guards take off. Strange.
Lanik glanced up, admiring the architecture of particularly the older buildings he could see. There was a charm that could not be replicated with those older buildings, and despite construction methods changing within the last decade Lanik could swear that those older buildings would outlive anything built now. Even now he could feel a boyish happiness inside him. He remembered his days as a young boy, staring over schematics and buildings plans. And then his time at the Carpenter's Guild. He was a talented woodworker, good with his hands with a keen eye for detail as his professors would say. It was the one thing he was better at than Marcus.
Something stung a Lanik's heart, leaving him apprehensive as he approached the grandeur doors of the Auction House. Just as vividly as he remembered the late nights planning and sharps chisels striking parallel to the grain of the wood, Lanik could remember his brother being there alongside him the whole way. He cursed himself. He had spent the better part of a year toiling over his loss.. . he thought he was over the pain. He thought he was over the aching he could never explain to himself, let alone to little Marië when she asked where uncle Marcus was. That was a long time ago, but if Lanik learned anything from that experience it was that some wounds never truly heal.
Lanik walked through the auction house towards the great room. His silverite plate armor shined and long elegant sky-blue cape caressed the floor behind him as he moved. There were all sorts of people here. To his left were lesser merchants selling off their wares of sickly slaves and the weak, and to his right were the human spoils of those the Imperium had conquered down south. Lanik could hear their bids to and fro. 5 pieces! 7 pieces! 10 pieces! The fact that a human life could be condensed into the value of a hunk of metal was beyond him. Lanik noted a ruckus in the great hall, men and women, legionnaire and officer alike chanting in unison.
Kill! Kill! Kill!
Lanik pushed through the crowd of people, exerting more effort as he approached the front. It was as if the sea of people became denser the closer he neared. Soon enough he broke the mob of people. He widened his eyes at the sight before him.
Erudessa.
The elf had a knife to her throat. He had to do something or surely she would be bleeding out right in front of his eyes. Between the manic of the crowd and the chanting growing louder and louder with each passing moment Lanik raised his hand, unthinking of his position or the consequence. Unthinking of the fact that her kind drew blood from Marcus and ended his life. This elf had saved his ranger, and he was in debt.
"Fifty pieces!" he shouted, the crowd hushed. This man, bearing the sigil of the Ranger Covenant had just bought a slave.
Psychological Analysis: Kira Lawrence, also once lovingly referred to as the 'Starchild of Eden Prime" was for lack of a better word a pilot prodigy. She is the daughter of the well respected Calvin Lawrence, a Colonel for Eden Prime's naval detachment -- the 207th Sentinel Watch. Being from a military heritage, the pressure was on from a ripe young age and throughout her days in pilot academy. Kira did not disappoint, acing all her school work and excelling beyond expectations during field exercise. Her fame (or infamy) made her a house name for all aspiring pilots on Eden Prime, even making word to some of the most ranking officers in the Navy. During this period she behaved much in the way as her father did: cocky, stubborn and risquè with a cheeky humor that landed her on the bitter end of the brass. However, the similarity breaks there, for where Colonel Lawrence was always respected for the healthy relationships he developed with those in his squadron, Kira often allowed her natural piloting talents to cloud her judgment. Recce mission after recce mission she pushed her luck with dangerous maneuvers and formations throughout Varaxian infested space. Her luck finally ran out when her orders -- controversial to this very day and commonly quoted as cardinal grievances in the chain of command resulted in the death of her entire strike wing, with herself the lone survivor. She was stripped of her rank and thrown into military confinement while undergoing the full stretch of Navy justice under two charges:
Failure of conduct becoming of an officer.
Failure to provide the obligations begotten of an officer to his/her wing.
After a vicious legal cycle Kira was acquitted, much to the outrage to Navy brass and enlisted alike (many think her father's connections was what allowed this). Nevertheless the damage had been done, and the prodigy once code-named Starchild was transferred to the 17th Communications Batallion teetering a fringe world that rarely saw action. Her duties usually amounted to catching stray radio waves and the odd supply run. Kira fell quiet at this point, a shadow of her former self. Though she still maintains a sarcastic composure during her exchanges with familiar faces, her dark past had taught her to hold her tongue. Emotional reservation saves lives, and to stay quiet means not a wrong word spoken.
Military Record: Right after graduation Kira was transferred to her father's regiment the 207th where she immediately took up the role of Pathfinder in Eden's highly renown reconnaissance division. Pathfinder’s were specialized wing sections whose primary focus was to establish intel ahead of the fighting fleet. They served secondary purposes as well such as linking navigation coordinates to bombardier cruisers, determining landing zones for drop pods when the Federation had boots on the ground, and guerrilla inspired tactics disrupting enemy communication lines. With such an emphasis on clandestine operations, Pathfinder's rarely amounted a numerous amount of kills. They were the Navy's eyes, not their gauntlet. Kira was the youngest Pathfinder ever commissioned, and while many had their doubts she consistently proved them wrong. Her daring formations and risky behavior rewarded her with a pristine mission success dossier (It was under her command several Varaxian transmissions were intercepted, saving countless of convoys from ambush). That is however up until her fall from grace.
Her tarnish came during a recce mission situated in the Veronius Delta, a quiet though strategically profound objective in galactic no-mans land. The Veronius Delta was unique in that it was unclaimed despite representing an excellent staging area for the Navy to launch future attacks. Kira's task was nothing short of what she had been doing for any of her past missions: identify nav-points and relay signature coordinates to command. The Veronius Delta was different however, for the Pathfinder to navigate that quadrant would essentially set a spearhead assault against Varaxian occupied space. It was, as far as she was concerned, a chance to permanently etch her name in Navy memorandum. She pushed onward with a recce team of seven including herself despite the constant warnings from her superiors about a Varaxian strike patrol heading into their vicinity. Even her 2IC begged her to consolidate, but once again she refused. It was inevitable fact that they would soon get surrounded, and Kira, the only survivor barely escaped with her life.
Her duties in the 17th Batallion were extremely limited. She was restricted from flying combat aircraft, only ever piloting communication and signal pods to and from relay vessels. After a year of this the 17th superiors deemed her fit to transfer to a craft repair division where she learned a bit of the trade from enlisted blue-collars. While her edge may have dulled her past accolades still remark on her talent as a pilot, but it was to say the least. Kira had finally achieved a modicum of self respect with the 17th and was perfectly content with maintaining a career there. Strangely enough, after finally getting settled her superiors had told her she was to be transferred to the 144th Direwolves.
Awesome. :). I'll for sure have a response by the end of tomorrow. I got a new guitar today and not gonna lie I'm playing it till 4am. I'll be hashing writing ideas while I practice though.
Well considering the elves killed his brother Marcus Lanik wouldn't have the best disposition towards her in the first place. He's in debt, but he still can hold on to grudges. And also, he's smart. How would it look if a man of his stature bought a slave and immediately let her go? Imperial eyes are on him, and he has a daughter to worry about. Any bad limelight could easily have him accused. I know up until now he's come off with a pretty liberal ideology compared to most Imperials, but I guess I haven't emphasized the fact how dangerous it is for him to be spilling such ideas in public.
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