Chapter 20: Contingencies
"So, how was his expression when he left?" Bastian asked, glancing at Ophilia over his shoulder as they walked back to his office.
"Still somber, obviously. But he also had a determined look in his eyes that wasn't there before the meeting," Ophilia replied casually. She had already returned to scrolling through the social hub page projected on her device, slipping back into her usual nonchalant attitude now that their guests were gone. Bastian naturally didn't mind.
"Hmm, well, I suppose that's okay for now. I didn't expect him to be jovial or anything, considering what he'd just experienced."
His gaze narrowed. "I'm glad the conviction in his heart from when he was a kid didn't simply go away as he got older—despite the hardships he's had to endure. That would have complicated things."
They walked into his otherwise mundane office as he strode to his desk, taking his seat behind the opulent dark wood.
Ophilia sauntered to the couch by the side, lying down slowly as her tail swayed behind her.
Bastian grumbled audibly as his fingers drummed against his armrest. "But, as predicted, he's still carrying around ghosts of his past with him. And this recent incident didn't do him any favours on that front, either."
"...Thankfully, I've envisioned several workable solutions for that."
"Yome Kyun and her squad are one of those, I'm guessing?" Ophilia asked, a look of certainty on her face.
"Yes, that's correct. If things go according to plan, he will choose to join their team when the time comes, in a few months."
Ophilia hummed under her breath. "Is that so? Do you think he's grown attached to them enough during their journey to Paradis?"
"Probably not. Not yet, anyway. But it's a good start. All it takes is a few good impressions for a bias to begin forming. And the son of Osiris must have helped that along splendidly—given what I've read about his warm and inviting personality," Bastian replied with a small smirk.
"Besides, his options for Vanguards who would be willing to take him in are limited. His half-human nature is going to continue affecting his future in this organisation until he's strong enough to change that. It's just the cruel reality of things."
He chuckled as he remembered something. "And as for the son of Sagitta being on the same team... I suppose it's fate."
Ophilia remained quiet for several moments, then raised a brow. "Speaking of the son of Osiris, why did you pretend you didn't know who he was? I still remember how much research you had me do on him—and even his relationship with his father—when you heard he was coming to this star system."
"Out of spite, you could say," Bastian replied in a slightly embarrassed tone. "But, not for the boy. You know my history with Osiris and his organization," Bastian added with a slight scowl.
Ophilia nodded. "Yes, I do. But don't you think that's a bit childish? Even for you?"
"Yes, and I regret it a bit, but what's with the 'even for you' part?" he asked indignantly.
Ophilia glanced away, not bothering to answer.
Bastian sighed. "Anyway, it's about time I reached out to that kid, as well. He's my first solution, after all." A hesitant expression crossed his face. "It's been a while since I've spoken with him personally. I wonder how he sounds now. He should be 25 now, right?"
"Yeah. His birthday was 58 days ago, exactly. I remember because you had me prepare several ridiculous gifts that you knew he wasn't going to accept, just like before."
Bastian winced slightly. "You don't have to always spell out the obvious like that, y'know." His fingers stopped drumming against the armrest as his expression grew serious. "I know how strained our relationship has become over the years. And the worst part is that I can't blame anyone besides myself."
His gaze shifted to the window again, where the lights from Hold City below reflected on the glass. "I wonder how things would have turned out... if I'd simply stayed with him that day."
Ophilia rolled her eyes as she finally turned off her device. "That's enough already. There's no point in dwelling on the past and the things you can't change. Even with all your power."
"...Yes. I suppose you're right." He turned away from the window, reaching below his desk and pulling out an item from the drawer. The device that every Renegade from the rank of Knight and above wore on their wrists was called a 'badge'. It was an all-encompassing device built by the Mesh Division of the Renegades. It could be used in various ways—such as accessing the Renegade database that spanned galaxies, browsing the regular web, scanning and identifying things, controlling technology the Renegade had access to, or even as a communication device.
The only downside to it, in Bastian's opinion, was that everything done on the device was logged and later reviewed by a body of Renegades in the Inquisitor Divisions to prevent mishandling and root out spies from the Second Chance Group.
In other words, it was woefully inefficient for Bastian's needs at the moment. There was no way he would ever contact his little brother with something like that.
The item in his hand was a small, silver, ball-looking artifact with distinct linings on the sides. It was a secure two-way communication trinket he'd gotten from his connections through the underbelly of Renegade-ruled society. Or more precisely, something he'd made Ophilia get for him in secret years ago. He was only holding one part of the trinket. The other part had been transported to his brother years before. It was a two-way communication device, and yet, Bastian had never really felt like it was. After all, his brother had never responded even once.
"Well. I suppose it's pointless to prolong the inevitable." He muttered to himself as he turned the device on, clearing his throat slightly as he began speaking into it.
"Hey kiddo, it's me, Bastian. Your one and only big brother."