Medical Bunker beneath Unity Palace, Luthien
Pesht Military District, Draconis Combine
7 February 3030
Franklin knew that sound. The clicking, the whoosh, the slight beeping. He opened his eyes, tearing at his face to remove something that wasn't there.
Instead he saw Ninyu Kerai standing over him, his eyes peering into his.
"What do you know? the man in black asked.
He ignored him, throwing his legs off to the side of the bed, feeling the rush of blood and compensating for it as he stood. He looked at the bed across from his and sat back down.
"The Otomo are expert medics, better at trauma than even--" Ninyu stopped. "Your grandmother will be fine, she was awake a while ago. Subhash Indrahar is dead."
"Good," Franklin said.
Ninyu breathed in and out. "He was like a father to me--"
"--he almost killed her and betrayed my father!--"
"--What do you know?" Ninyu asked again, his voice forceful but not threatening.
"I know my father is already far and away, watching his allies and his enemies fight it out. I know he wanted to see if my grandmother said was true." Franklin stood as he spoke. "I know you pretended to be his friend. He'll deal with you when he comes back." Franklin breathed in confidently. "You'll never find him," he said.
The man in black stood, listening and swaying by millimetres. Franklin remembered meeting the man with the red hair in another life, when his mother--when his old life ended. He had been the one to bring him here, even began teaching him.
He had been Ninyu-oji.
Jasmine Kurita's respirator filled the silence for many long minutes. Then Ninyu turned his back and walked out the room. "Follow me," he said coldly.
Franklin ran up to touch his grandmother's left hand, put it to his face, and kissed it. Ninyu was waiting for him outside, but didn't look at him once.
The hallways were familiar. This was a Brotherhood clinic that specialized in providing care for the nobles. Better supplied than the public clinics, and also more discreet. When he came here after just arriving on Luthien, the hallways weren't lined with Otomo.
They twisted and turned, went up a flight of stairs only to go down another two flights. Franklin memorized his steps, knowing he could make his way back to his grandmother's side if he had to.
The door was black. A gold Kurita dragon was emblazoned over it.
He opened door and stepped through. Some time later he stepped out of the room, his eyes red but dry, his fists clenched but his shoulders stooped.
Ninyu was waiting for him outside.
"What do you know?" he repeated.
"I know I'll kill the ones responsible."
The Director of the ISF shook his head. He didn't repeat the question. Franklin ebbed between fury and weariness, but he stood on his own two feet. He began walking, back to his grandmother's bed. And his bed too, if he was being honest.
The red-haired man followed. Franklin noticed, not for the first time, that the man didn't have footsteps. He tried to copy Ninyu's pace and footing, casually, but slowed down noticeably. Ninyu shook his head again and lifted his boots.
"Noise cancellers," he said. "And training."
"Why did your father do all of this?" Franklin asked, leaning against a bare wall.
Ninyu put his foot down and sighed. "He wasn't my father--he was planning on adopting me, but I think that's a mistake."
The young Kurita nodded. "My grandfather, Takashi, saw what Hohiro--the first," he added, the name no longer stinging with the insults he faced all his life, "was doing to the Combine. I don't know what, really. It seemed bad?"
"Hai," Ninyu said. "It was bad. Hohiro Kurita, the first, was a redoubtable foe. Keen in many ways. He could uncover spies just by looking at them, that much was true." He paused. "But he was--the Combine is--Coordinators must--" Ninyu breathed out, frustrated.
"He didn't live up to his name?" he said in a very small voice.
Ninyu looked at him for a long time. "Kuritas are warriors, yes, but rulers first. The--your father--was much like his grandfather in that regard. But Hohiro courted the old guard, the traditionalists, kept them by his side and expanded their powers." Ninyu waited until a Brotherhood physician hurried past. "He used the ISF to do this, culling the DCMS and the nobility and fusing them into what you know now." He sighed. "No, that's not right. It was always like this, but these days only more so."
Franklin nodded earnestly. "You're not very good at this."
The Director barked out a laugh. "I find it harder and harder to speak plainly the longer I--but you do understand?"
He nodded.
"My father," he said without trembling, "told me how his father would let him watch from the security alcoves in the Black Room." Ninyu's eyes widened. "He was instructed just to watch and never ask questions. All he remembered was his father doing nothing but allowing the Warlords to fight then forcing compromises to keep the peace." Franklin took a few breaths to steady himself. "He thought his father was weak, but then he told me he only understood why his father did that when he was much older: Takashi needed to disarm them, the Warlords and their people, and make it seem like it was their plan." He shrugged. "That's how he explained it to me."
"Why?"
"Because they were ruining the Combine."
Ninyu nodded, satisfied. "Do you know what your grandfather Takashi did?" Franklin felt it wasn't a real question. "He made sure he'd have the ISF on his side, because we kept those Warlords in power. He was friends with my would-be father as Theodore and I are. But Takashi-sama fractured the ISF in so many ways then. Most of those factions are extinct now..." The Director sighed. "He kept the ISF close, then made a deal with the Order of the Five Pillars."
"To do what?"
"To kill us." Ninyu smiled. "It was our fault--we had strayed--gotten a taste of power and influence. We weren't guardians or enforcers anymore, but shadow rulers," Ninyu said quickly. "Takashi-sama was right to. He most likely had my real parents killed--they ruled a planet--Hachiman--in secret. Or so I've been told."
Franklin tilted his head. "But... if it's just between the Order and the ISF?--"
"'Just'?" Ninyu straightened. Then he laughed long and hard. "'Just'?" he repeated, wiping dry tears from his eyes. "We, both the Order and the ISF, use everything. The O5P is, well, it's civilian and we're military. But we intersect, you see, wherever money is. Because that's where power usually is."
"Because most of the Combine's lords are from the military?"
"No, well, not completely 'no'. Most of the low-ranking nobles are, they win titles and get to own their own 'Mechs with estates and it's all very feudal," Ninyu said dismissively. "They die in service and that melts away, usually. But the ones that stay in power are the ones that make the weapons, the 'Mechs." The Director leaned in. "They even get to tell the military what to do, from time to time. Now, imagine those people being threatened, bribed, coerced and even just convinced to do something they usually wouldn't. What do you have?"
Ninyu began walking again and Franklin began to follow, still mimicking the footsteps as best he could.
"This war," Franklin answered.
The Director of the ISF stopped, looked at him, and bowed. "And it's nearly over."