“You’re still wearing bck.”

  “I’m still mourning.”

  “There are other ways to mourn, Jasper.”

  “There are other ways to lose, too, but you keep on falling for the same trap,” Jasper Sullivan states as he knocks over his uncle’s leader. The game piece falls into his old p. He spits out his mead in shock. The tavern ughs at the sight as he calls out Jasper, “You keep cheating!”

  “I’m not cheating,” Jasper yawns. He gnces at the tavern’s patrons. A single Republic officer is among them, but he’s already gone back to his drink, just like everyone else.

  “I’m only pying strategically,” Jasper adds once he’s sure no one is eavesdropping on him and his uncle.

  “His Father used to say the same thing, didn’t he?” Cire Sullivan asks as she sets down another pint for her husband and another gss of water for her nephew. Jasper thanks her with a smile.

  “He did.” Robert Sullivan says as he resets the gameboard. “Always, strategy this, honor that, loyalty to the end… All for the stinking Division.”

  “That’s the other reason I’m not taking off these robes.” Jasper sighs, “They’re a sign of resistance.” He takes a sip of water as Robert rolls his eyes. Cire leaves his side before the shouting match can begin.

  “Emperor Atheneum is dead.” Robert huffs, “His son, Adamus, is missing. Rome burned to the ground. The military is scattered. Face it, Jasper, the dream your Father and I fought for is dead.”

  “Idealogies don’t die.” Jasper slides his gsses up his nose, well prepared for the argument.

  “Vanessa Soryu is currently under investigation by the Martian Council. It’s only a matter of time until she’s found guilty of terrorism and conspiracy and kicked out of office.”

  “You think she pnned the attack?”

  “I know she pnned it.”

  Robert chuckles and chugs down a mouthful of mead. He pnts the pint firmly on the wooden table. “What if Gelmidas did it? I mean, wasn’t he saying just a few weeks before everything went down that the Scorched Archer was after him?”

  Jasper shrugs, “That is why he wanted the unification, yes, but you’re diving into conspiracies.”

  “And you aren’t?”

  The question silences Jasper. He folds his arms and slumps in his chair. Looking out the window, he sees the slow snowfall make its way down onto the harsh soil.

  Jasper used to hate winter. The cold would kill all of the flowers he loved so much, and he would spend the next few months inside pnning his next garden, while his sister would py out in the snow.

  Jasper hates winter for a different reason now.

  Valerie died in Rome. She’ll never see the snow again.

  “Look…” Robert sighs, attempting to comfort his nephew. “I know you want to bme someone. I went through the same thing when your Father died, but-”

  “I don’t bme someone,” Jasper states as he rises from his chair, “But I do bme something.” He shoves the chair back into the table and throws on his coat. Robert doesn’t stop him from leaving, nor do Cire or any of the patrons.

  There’s nothing left here for Jasper.

  Nothing at all.

  “Hey, Flowerboy!”

  The shout makes Jasper miss his shot.

  The arrow crashes to the floor before it can meet the target. The other archers share a chuckle at Jasper’s failure, but are quickly silenced by a gre from their instructor.

  “You trying to make me miss, Sergeant?” Helga smiles at the comment. She had been a Sergeant in the half-century war and served with Jasper’s Father and Uncle. She’s been trying to teach Jasper archery since he was eight years old, but he was always far more interested in the potted pnts in her office.

  Even after eleven years, the old woman has yet to get Jasper to fire a straight arrow.

  “I don’t need to try to make you miss, you do that all on your own.” Helga ughs as she pats Jasper’s shoulder, whispering, “The gang’s waiting in the office. Leo just got back.”

  Jasper nods at the hushed statement. He hangs his bow as Helga takes a moment to scold some of her younger students.

  Jasper runs a hand through his tall, bushy hair. He carefully scans the room before slowly walking to Helga’s office. She shortly joins him and is sure to be as careful as he is.

  Jasper holds the door for Helga. The rubber door hinges strain as Jasper locks the room with a wooden pnk.

  “Can we finally get started?” The young girl at the end of the room draws out in a long-winded sigh. “Indeed, we can, Kiren.” The girl’s Father huffs as he gnces at Jasper. He makes his way over to the desk, where the dozen humans packed into the office look over a well-worn map of their pnet.

  “Leo, you just got back from the Spaceport, so you’ll go first.” Kiren’s Father speaks in the same quiet yet commanding tone he previously addressed both his daughter and the room with. “How many reds came in tonight?”

  Leo lifts his head from the desk. He blushes upon spotting Jasper, although Jasper himself turns his head away in clear disdain. Leo clears his throat after the awkward encounter and focuses back on the task at hand.

  “Only one new ship arrived. It dropped off a squadron of six officers and left. The thing is, more and more people are trying to leave, and just like you said, the Republic isn’t letting them.”

  “We’re still in fucking lockdown…” A stout man twice Jasper’s age grumbles. “Space craft registration, my ass. Fucking Reds just don’t want us seeing how bad things are getting. It’s a load of sh-”

  “Tarlen…”

  “Sorry, Marqus,” Tarlen pathetically mutters under the low roar of Marqus’s voice. “Kiren,” Marqus calls out to his daughter, “How many Officers do we have now?”

  “Well, based off Leo’s added six…” Kiren taps her fingers against the desk, searching her mind for a moment before making the calcution. “A hundred and fifty-three.”

  Marqus takes an ink quill and adds to the already massive tally on the map. “Grim numbers.” He states before calling on the next member of the group, and the next, and the next, and the next. Each one brings increasingly dire news.

  The Republic of humanity has a firm grip on the entire pnet now, and Jasper knows that unless someone does something about it, it won’t be long until the entire universe is under the boot of those red and white bastards.

  “Jasper,” Marqus finally calls on him after Helga has said her piece. “What’s the people’s consensus?”

  “It’s difficult to get a lock on it, sir. Some want the Republic gone just because of the nuisance that the officers have become. Some just don’t like the taxes, some just don’t care, and others are more than happy to have a boot on their neck.”

  “So it’s the same as it ever was,” Marqus rolls up the map that has now been updated with all the stains of the Republic. “Continue to keep your ears open around your family’s little watering hole.” He orders Jasper as he hands the map off to Kiren and tells everyone, “You all have done good work. Keep your heads steady and sane. We’ll meet back here midday tomorrow.”

  “But my son is having his coming-of-age celebration,” A middle-aged woman compins.

  “We’ve also used this pce too much, Marqus,” Helga piles on. “People are getting suspicious.”

  Marqus nods his head and scratches his short white beard. “You’re right, Helga, we should meet at my pce tomorrow, but we also need to keep up with the different times and can’t let any distractions get in the way.”

  “Fine.” The middle-aged woman sighs and is the first to leave the room.

  Marqus and Kiren depart next. Everyone else spaces out their exits in order to avoid attracting any unwanted attention that a crowd may bring.

  It takes a good twenty minutes for the office to narrow down to just Jasper, Helga, and Leo. “How are your aunt and uncle doing?” Leo asks with the stupidly caring smile that Jasper once loved.

  “They’re fine,” Jasper mumbles, folding his arms as he studies one of the many flowers pnted by the window.

  Leo moves to pce a hand on his shoulder. “If you ever need-”

  “I don’t need anything from you, Leonidas.” Jasper scowls as his palm closes on a stray leaf, crunching it down into a green mush. Leo makes for the door.

  “Wild elven rose,” Jasper huffs once Leo is gone, “Pretty petals, but if you let it grow too long…” He opens his hand to gaze upon the burns hidden beneath the scraps of green. “And its leaves become acidic. I’m going to have to trim these.”

  Helga shrugs, “Take as long as you need. I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what’s going on between you and Leo?”

  “You’d suppose right.” Jasper allows himself a mild chuckle before giving in to his own volition. “I’ll just say we’re both still dealing with… recent events… in our own way.”

  Helga leans on her desk as Jasper grabs his stone shears. “Makes sense. I mean, he and your sister were an item before…”

  “Before he realized he prefers men?” Jasper finishes Helga’s sentence for her.

  She nods as Jasper begins his work. “So you both miss Valerie. That’s obvious, Jasper. We all wish things could have gone differently, but why are you pushing him away when you two clearly still have feelings for each other?”

  Jasper wearily sighs. His fingertip strokes the petal of a yellow flower. “I did think that he was the right one for me, but like I said, he’s a Wild eleven rose, and my favorite flower has always been Everpear. Bright in its color, strong in its roots, and although it’s weak in the stem…” Jasper runs his palm across the joined petals of the group of Everpears and smiles. “It’s powerful when surrounded by others like it.”

  “Jasper… Please, don’t fuck your flowers…” Helga mumbles.

  Jasper’s taken aback by the comment. “Was that a joke?”

  Helga simply shrugs in response.

  “Try to give me some credit, I’m not that lonely, Helga. I’ll see you at the meeting tomorrow.” Jasper returns his shears and walks to the door, only to have it swing open in front of him.

  “What meeting?” The Republic officer sneers. He twirls his baton as he steps into the office with one of his underlings. “You pnning a new business venture, Helga?” The Officer asks as he holsters his baton. Jasper gres at both him and the underling, a short yet muscur woman who clearly wishes she was anywhere else.

  “What do you want, Officer Crovon?” Helga does her best to keep the inquiry polite, but she and Jasper both find it difficult to mask their hatred.

  “She already paid your taxes.” Jasper huffs, folding his arms as he stares down the short woman.

  “I know,” Crovon says, finding a seat and taking it. “Silonas and I were sent to do some routine inspection. Apparently, some fugitive has been spotted in the area.”

  “Fugitive?” The statement ignites Jasper’s curiosity.

  Silonas is quick to snuff out its fme. “Just some kid who’s been dumpster diving. Hopefully, it’s nothing to worry about.”

  The overly courteous reassurance only serves to increase Jasper’s frustrations.

  The main thing I’m worried about is you Reds. He squeezes his burned hand into a fist. Helga motions for him to leave.

  He reluctantly exits the office without granting the officers so much as a goodbye. The instant he closes the door, he hears Crovon ask, “Now, what was that about a meeting?”

  Upon stepping outside, Jasper finds that the snowfall has become relentless.

  The bck night sky has been overtaken by flutters of white, and the streets are piled high with ice. Blood manages to drip from Jasper’s scarred hand and stain the snow red. The symbolism would be funny to Jasper if he didn’t feel it was so prophetic.

  Everything will be red soon. He thinks. We’ll all be living under the red of you, Republic bastards.

  He wipes the blood on his bck robes before forcing open the door of the tavern he calls home. His uncle helps him shut it and block out the snow. “Where’d you go after our game?” Robert wipes icy sweat from his brow as he asks the question.

  “Helga’s,” Jasper absent-mindedly answers. At least his uncle can’t accuse him of lying.

  “I didn’t upset you too much, did I?” Robert’s kindness gives Jasper a smirk.

  “No, Uncle Rob. We’re good, don’t worry about it.”

  “Alright!” Robert cps. “Now take out the trash.”

  Jasper rolls his eyes. There’s always a catch. He thinks as he finds the three overflowing trash bags filled to the brim with all the garbage left by the patrons.

  He snatches two at once and accepts that it’s his fate to be out in the cold. Jasper positions the third with his feet to hold the door open for him amid the harsh wind.

  His hair thrashes against his gsses as he sighs and hurries to the wide wooden dumpster that sits between the tavern and the local butcher shop.

  Each step is its own battle, but Jasper wins every one of them. Ratroaches fly from the dumpster as he tosses in both of the bags. He huffs and rubs his palms together, warming them before going to fetch the other bag.

  When Jasper returns with it, he finds that the bags he previously tossed in are now out of the dumpster and lying open in the snow. He squints as he examines them. Is this because of that dumpster diver the Republic Officers talked about?

  He flings the bag he’s holding in the dumpster and gathers the other two.

  However, the bag does not nd in the dumpster.

  Instead, it nds with a thud atop the young man sitting in it.

  “What the fuck, is your deal!” The young man crawls up from the garbage.

  His curly brown hair is filled with snow and trash, various rags and ropes are tied along his arms, and his green eyes are filled with rage.

  “Can you at least look before you go throwing stuff around like that?”

  “It’s your fault for being in the dumpster!” Jasper shouts over the now roaring wind.

  “You think I want to be here?” The man hops out of the dumpster and nds ft on his face. He grumbles as he stands, “This has been one shitty month...”

  Jasper wipes the snow from his gsses and peels back his thick hair to see this mystery man before him.

  “Sure, wipe your gsses, that’s way more important than I don’t know… Giving me a fucking apology!”

  Jasper’s jaw drops.

  “Oh…” Adamus smirks. “So you know who I am. It’s about time…”