Post by Greywall on Jun 17, 2024 20:42:40 GMT -5
The rain belted down onto Columbia harshly as a super cell thunderstorm moved through the Galran Gulf and into Central Galra right on top of the capital, bringing down thick drops of water that emptied the otherwise busy streets of the holy city.
Only a few braved the torrential rainfall as neon lights began to illuminate the streets advertising shops, churches and then came the gas fueled lights. Columbia had an advanced natural gas system that heated the city during harsh Reserian winters and fed the lantern system to keep the city constantly lit up. Millions of lights at all times during the night and during storms, the sheer scope costing billions of dollars even in the 30's. Something Galra just scoffed at, the super power treated it as if nothing. Something many of its citizens often forgot how immensely wealthy the Imperial State was. Especially when homelessness and poverty still existed across the state.
Archibald was covered in a deep blue poncho walking in the Elenor District of the city, a modest middle class section of the city where blue collar workers of various jobs and occupations that kept the capital functional including an ammunition factory close to the district and a factory that was building medium bombers for the Imperial Airforce.
The head of the Galran military came to a house, a two story home nestled in-between two others with little to no yard, the home was grey in appearance as was customary with many Galran homes at the time. Rejecting colorful decor or anything that made it stick out, he only recognized it thanks to small features he could pull apart from the others and the address numbers on the front of the home. 332 Madelle Drive. His childhood home.
He knocked on the front door and as he did his eyes moved to his left from where he came up on the sidewalk noticing...them...they kept their distance but you cant escape the sounds of the garbled comms talk of Inquisitors. Their reflecting lens on their facemasks making them almost seem inhuman. They were his personal entourage and protection all while also serving as spies for the state to keep an eye on the man. The door creaked open revealing an older man, aged badly by years of rough labor and poor diet. "Tobias..." the old man instinctively looked around till he saw the glass eyes lit up by gas fire staring at his front door.
"Come in boy. It's pouring."
Archibald walked in, removing his poncho and placing it on a nearby hat rack.
"I made some potato soup, cheese, chives, pepper and some pork belly." the old man said warmly, "have some, you should eat."
Archibald shook his head, "father, that meal is sinful, you cannot mix more than two ingredients per the holy book." the old man ignored his son's protests, pouring into two clay bowls the warm soup and placing them both on a wooden table. "I got some beet juice, let me-" Archibald tried to speak over him to stop his father but the old man protested pouring the juice into two glasses and placing them on the table. The two sat down and despite his earlier protests on the soup Archibald began eating.
"In the old days, when we worshipped Ux, the priest told us that we could eat the lord's abundance without question...then the church changed its mind. And came up with that crock of shit you espoused at me." the old man gruffed. "Father. The church is law, so is the state, the autarch and the military." The old man looked into his bowl, almost as if he didn't hear what was said to him. "Still chanting that hmmm? They made you repeat that as a child, even when I was a kid...they didn't push that so hard." Archibald ate his soup, drank his juice, he didn't want to argue with his father. Despite their views on the world, his love to his father outweighed anything else the state tried to push into him.
The old man finished his meal and shifted in his chair before producing two cigars, giving one to his son and lighting his own before sliding a tin lighter across the table. "These are...Veraki?" Archibald asked, the old man shook his head letting out a long cloud of smoke from his drag, "Nevarran. Saved them before they became...objects of sin." Archibald rolled the cigar in his fingers, the Nevarran cigar in his hand was contraband. Illegal since the outbreak of the war. Hell, alot of things that were normal items in Galra just a year or two ago were now illegal...items of sin according to the church. He lit the cigar and took off a drag, it might being the last one he might ever smoke.
"You think that's bad...Elmore is smuggling some Amalian Wine in next week, along with some Gaelic whiskey and Kumo...uh...photos." his father chuckled. Archibald shook his head, "Dammit father, you'll get in trouble. You're retired now, why are you talking to those bluecuffs at the factory and involving yourself in smuggling still?" the old man chuckled still taking little drags before letting the cigar rest in his mouth the aroma now filling the room. "When I worked at the train parts factory we had to find a way to make more money than what was paid. And we provided a service to old Elenor heheh. How you think I got you those toys every winter solstice? Those pop guns and the uh...little cards you liked? Not cheap boy. Not when I gotta pay this damn heap off and put food...and your dear mom."
The room remained silent, Archibald speaking up after a moment, "I miss her dad. I think of her every day." the old man wiped a tear from his eye, daydreaming days far long gone from his life. "She's with the lord now son, her suffering ended." Archibald took out the cigar and rolled it in his fingers "do you think she would be proud of me?". That was a hard question for Ulric Archibald to answer, the 73 year old man pondered and answered. "Of you...not of who you keep." Archibald squinted at his father, "Why do you protest our state father? Forgive me but why? If those men-"
"They are not men. I've seen what...those things do to people. They. Are. Not. Men."
"If they heard you, they'd take you."
"Then let the lord take me now, I'll not fear tyranny. Not when its so perverse now."
Archibald shifted in his chair, restraining the anger trying to burn in his chest. "The Imperial State is the supreme power of Ouhiri, we are bringing this filthy world to its knees. The non human filth will be eradicated and our lord's light will shine bright with the Staol we control."
"Son, the lord made the non humans. You're killing his children, by the chapter Issia 4:56 All my children who walk the land, with sound mind and will are to be loved as brother would love brother."
"Amended chapter 3:22 The non human is a creature of sin and the mistake of god, take heed and exterminate them and any human not in keeping with the proper men of god."
"A chapter written when I was alive! By a damn racist who hung and killed our neighbors boy! They killed your friend! Volo! His entire family was hung by the neck and killed for being non humans!"
"The prophet leaders of Galra have heard god's word and dictate these changes by his word and law."
The old man shook his head, he didn't want to argue religious text further.
"Why father?" Archibald asked again, "Why are you so against this State?" his tone being one of genuine curiosity to understand why.
The old man looked around, as if he was actually scared to speak of what he wanted.
"Lean in...let us...whisper...whisper together. Of times before, when the Old Republic...when my father lived and told me what we lost in the civil war."
Archibald looked around smoting his cigar and almost walked out, to speak of the Galran Republic was instant death. No matter your ranking in the State.
"Father...this is death."
"No...this is truth. Galra was a Republic, it wasn't perfect, but dammit boy it was a free nation. And the religious zealots that seized it turned it into a police state that has killed our people and practically enslaved them."
Archibald didn't want to hear anymore, "Thank you for the meal, I need to get back to the Brahm district its getting late." Archibald stood up but was met by his father standing up as well, the old man wrapping his arms around the large chested man, "You're still my baby boy, you always will be. Don't let them take that away." Archibald hugged his father, "I need to go father, I love you." The two parted ways, as Archibald put on his poncho and once again went out into the pouring rain he would be joined by his entourage, all of them silent. Making him wonder if they knew. No. They couldn't. Afterall. His father was already good at finding bugs and wired devices they would place in his home when he left.
Ulric was right about one thing, no one in Galra was safe.
Only a few braved the torrential rainfall as neon lights began to illuminate the streets advertising shops, churches and then came the gas fueled lights. Columbia had an advanced natural gas system that heated the city during harsh Reserian winters and fed the lantern system to keep the city constantly lit up. Millions of lights at all times during the night and during storms, the sheer scope costing billions of dollars even in the 30's. Something Galra just scoffed at, the super power treated it as if nothing. Something many of its citizens often forgot how immensely wealthy the Imperial State was. Especially when homelessness and poverty still existed across the state.
Archibald was covered in a deep blue poncho walking in the Elenor District of the city, a modest middle class section of the city where blue collar workers of various jobs and occupations that kept the capital functional including an ammunition factory close to the district and a factory that was building medium bombers for the Imperial Airforce.
The head of the Galran military came to a house, a two story home nestled in-between two others with little to no yard, the home was grey in appearance as was customary with many Galran homes at the time. Rejecting colorful decor or anything that made it stick out, he only recognized it thanks to small features he could pull apart from the others and the address numbers on the front of the home. 332 Madelle Drive. His childhood home.
He knocked on the front door and as he did his eyes moved to his left from where he came up on the sidewalk noticing...them...they kept their distance but you cant escape the sounds of the garbled comms talk of Inquisitors. Their reflecting lens on their facemasks making them almost seem inhuman. They were his personal entourage and protection all while also serving as spies for the state to keep an eye on the man. The door creaked open revealing an older man, aged badly by years of rough labor and poor diet. "Tobias..." the old man instinctively looked around till he saw the glass eyes lit up by gas fire staring at his front door.
"Come in boy. It's pouring."
Archibald walked in, removing his poncho and placing it on a nearby hat rack.
"I made some potato soup, cheese, chives, pepper and some pork belly." the old man said warmly, "have some, you should eat."
Archibald shook his head, "father, that meal is sinful, you cannot mix more than two ingredients per the holy book." the old man ignored his son's protests, pouring into two clay bowls the warm soup and placing them both on a wooden table. "I got some beet juice, let me-" Archibald tried to speak over him to stop his father but the old man protested pouring the juice into two glasses and placing them on the table. The two sat down and despite his earlier protests on the soup Archibald began eating.
"In the old days, when we worshipped Ux, the priest told us that we could eat the lord's abundance without question...then the church changed its mind. And came up with that crock of shit you espoused at me." the old man gruffed. "Father. The church is law, so is the state, the autarch and the military." The old man looked into his bowl, almost as if he didn't hear what was said to him. "Still chanting that hmmm? They made you repeat that as a child, even when I was a kid...they didn't push that so hard." Archibald ate his soup, drank his juice, he didn't want to argue with his father. Despite their views on the world, his love to his father outweighed anything else the state tried to push into him.
The old man finished his meal and shifted in his chair before producing two cigars, giving one to his son and lighting his own before sliding a tin lighter across the table. "These are...Veraki?" Archibald asked, the old man shook his head letting out a long cloud of smoke from his drag, "Nevarran. Saved them before they became...objects of sin." Archibald rolled the cigar in his fingers, the Nevarran cigar in his hand was contraband. Illegal since the outbreak of the war. Hell, alot of things that were normal items in Galra just a year or two ago were now illegal...items of sin according to the church. He lit the cigar and took off a drag, it might being the last one he might ever smoke.
"You think that's bad...Elmore is smuggling some Amalian Wine in next week, along with some Gaelic whiskey and Kumo...uh...photos." his father chuckled. Archibald shook his head, "Dammit father, you'll get in trouble. You're retired now, why are you talking to those bluecuffs at the factory and involving yourself in smuggling still?" the old man chuckled still taking little drags before letting the cigar rest in his mouth the aroma now filling the room. "When I worked at the train parts factory we had to find a way to make more money than what was paid. And we provided a service to old Elenor heheh. How you think I got you those toys every winter solstice? Those pop guns and the uh...little cards you liked? Not cheap boy. Not when I gotta pay this damn heap off and put food...and your dear mom."
The room remained silent, Archibald speaking up after a moment, "I miss her dad. I think of her every day." the old man wiped a tear from his eye, daydreaming days far long gone from his life. "She's with the lord now son, her suffering ended." Archibald took out the cigar and rolled it in his fingers "do you think she would be proud of me?". That was a hard question for Ulric Archibald to answer, the 73 year old man pondered and answered. "Of you...not of who you keep." Archibald squinted at his father, "Why do you protest our state father? Forgive me but why? If those men-"
"They are not men. I've seen what...those things do to people. They. Are. Not. Men."
"If they heard you, they'd take you."
"Then let the lord take me now, I'll not fear tyranny. Not when its so perverse now."
Archibald shifted in his chair, restraining the anger trying to burn in his chest. "The Imperial State is the supreme power of Ouhiri, we are bringing this filthy world to its knees. The non human filth will be eradicated and our lord's light will shine bright with the Staol we control."
"Son, the lord made the non humans. You're killing his children, by the chapter Issia 4:56 All my children who walk the land, with sound mind and will are to be loved as brother would love brother."
"Amended chapter 3:22 The non human is a creature of sin and the mistake of god, take heed and exterminate them and any human not in keeping with the proper men of god."
"A chapter written when I was alive! By a damn racist who hung and killed our neighbors boy! They killed your friend! Volo! His entire family was hung by the neck and killed for being non humans!"
"The prophet leaders of Galra have heard god's word and dictate these changes by his word and law."
The old man shook his head, he didn't want to argue religious text further.
"Why father?" Archibald asked again, "Why are you so against this State?" his tone being one of genuine curiosity to understand why.
The old man looked around, as if he was actually scared to speak of what he wanted.
"Lean in...let us...whisper...whisper together. Of times before, when the Old Republic...when my father lived and told me what we lost in the civil war."
Archibald looked around smoting his cigar and almost walked out, to speak of the Galran Republic was instant death. No matter your ranking in the State.
"Father...this is death."
"No...this is truth. Galra was a Republic, it wasn't perfect, but dammit boy it was a free nation. And the religious zealots that seized it turned it into a police state that has killed our people and practically enslaved them."
Archibald didn't want to hear anymore, "Thank you for the meal, I need to get back to the Brahm district its getting late." Archibald stood up but was met by his father standing up as well, the old man wrapping his arms around the large chested man, "You're still my baby boy, you always will be. Don't let them take that away." Archibald hugged his father, "I need to go father, I love you." The two parted ways, as Archibald put on his poncho and once again went out into the pouring rain he would be joined by his entourage, all of them silent. Making him wonder if they knew. No. They couldn't. Afterall. His father was already good at finding bugs and wired devices they would place in his home when he left.
Ulric was right about one thing, no one in Galra was safe.