The Last Silver

The Chancellor watched as the planet was atomized by the Ashen weapons.

Arcturus had learned long ago that survival was what mattered, the evacuees had made it aboard.

He stood before the great windows of flight deck, looking down at the people below.

Thousands upon thousands of them.

The evacuees.

They had come in waves.

The wounded.

Then the children.

Then the families who had been fortunate—or unfortunate—enough to have somewhere left to run.

Now the cots and temporary triage units stretched to every corner of the ship.

Tents had become homes.

Holding bays and every free inch of space had become the hospital.

And every minute, more people arrived to seek treatment.

Arcturus watched them from above.

They looked so small.

That was what frightened him most.

Humanity had once covered many worlds.

Now every individual human being seemed like something that could disappear if the wrong hand closed around them.

Behind him, the doors opened.

He did not turn.

"You're late," Arcturus said.

Chancellor Aurelius entered the room.

"I am Chancellor."

Arcturus snorted.

"That was not an apology."

"It was the closest thing to an apology you are likely to receive."

For a moment, neither man spoke.

Their relationship had never been simple.

There had been disagreements.

Arguments.

Decisions that had nearly driven them to opposite sides of the same battlefield.

Aurelius represented the humans that Arcturus had spent much of his life looking down upon.

Arcturus represented a necessity that Aurelius had often found impossible to control.

They had spent years believing that they were the one who saw things clearly.

Perhaps they had both been wrong.

Aurelius approached the window.

Below them, a convoy entered the city.

More evacuees.

Arcturus's expression hardened.

"How many?"

"Three thousand, two hundred and fourteen."

Arcturus slowly turned toward him.

"Today?"

"Today."

"And yesterday?"

"Two thousand, nine hundred and six."

Arcturus looked back through the glass.

Aurelius continued.

"We are running out of space."

"We can regroup with the fleet."

"We are running out of food."

"We can requisition more from other ships."

"We are running out of medicine."

"We can produce—"

"And what," Aurelius interrupted quietly, "do we do when we run out of people?"

That silenced him.

The room suddenly felt much colder.

Arcturus looked toward the Chancellor.

Aurelius's face was tired.

Not physically.

Arcturus had known men who were physically exhausted.

They slept.

They recovered.

Aurelius carried a different kind of exhaustion.

The exhaustion of a man who had begun counting the dead not as soldiers, but as an entire species.

"The numbers have been confirmed," Aurelius said.

Arcturus did not ask which numbers.

He already knew.

"The population?"

Aurelius nodded.

"Declining very quickly."

Arcturus's jaw tightened.

"Again."

"Again."

They stood in silence.

The empire had always survived catastrophe.

Wars.

Plagues.

Famine.

The collapse of civilizations.

The empire had nearly ended more times than most people could remember.

And it had always returned.

That had been their greatest strength.

Now it was becoming their greatest fear.

Because for the first time in centuries, the population was not recovering fast enough.

Too many people were dying.

Too few were being born.

And every disaster took something the empire could not easily replace.

A child.

A scientist.

A soldier.

A farmer.

A mother.

A father.

A future that would never exist.

Arcturus turned away from the window.

"What are you proposing?"

Aurelius studied him.

"Working together."

Arcturus laughed once.

It contained no humor.

"That's a dangerous proposal."

"I am aware."

"We've spent half our lives with opposing views."

"Then perhaps we have spent enough time proving that we are both stubborn."

Arcturus raised an eyebrow.

"Careful, Chancellor. That almost sounded like self-awareness."

Aurelius ignored him.

"The old divisions cannot continue."

Arcturus's expression became serious.

"No more conquest?"

"No more killing."

Aurelius walked toward the large table in the center of the room.

Maps covered its surface.

Old maps.

New maps.

Territories crossed out in red.

Population centers circled in gold.

Places where humanity still lived.

Places where humanity had once lived.

And far too many places where no one lived anymore.

"We are defending colonies independently," Aurelius said. "We are relocating civilians without a unified system. We are assigning resources based on political boundaries that no longer have meaning."

Arcturus followed him.

"And?"

"And this empire is behaving like it has the luxury of being divided."

The words struck harder than either man expected.

Arcturus looked down at the map.

"What do you want?"

"A joint command."

Arcturus stared at him.

"No."

Aurelius sighed.

"I expected that."

"You want the dragonkin under human authority."

"I want the dragonkin working with the humans. Dinraal has both inside him, and soon enough, he will rule us all."

"That will be very difficult, there is a lot of bad blood. The dragonkin believe you slew their emperor."

"Yes," Aurelius admitted. "They do, we must reveal the truth."

For several seconds, neither moved.

Then the doors opened again.

This time, Arcturus reached for his weapon.

Aurelius did not.

The sound of heavy boots crossed the floor.

"You always did have a talent for making an entrance."

Arcturus froze.

That voice.

Slowly, he turned.

General Aramaeis Gremory stood in the doorway.

For several heartbeats, no one spoke.

Arcturus had not seen him in far too long.

The General looked older.

Not weak.

Never weak.

But older.

War had a way of changing even those who survived it.

Aramaeis removed his gloves.

"Old friend, are you going to shoot me?"

Arcturus lowered his weapon.

"That depends."

"On?"

"How annoying you're planning to be."

Aramaeis smiled faintly.

"There he is."

Aurelius watched them carefully.

"You two know we are about to go to war, right?"

"Dragonkin were made for war," Arcturus said.

"Plus," Aramaeis added, "we've spent years trying to prove the other one wrong."

Aurelius folded his arms.

"Then you will fit perfectly into this meeting."

Arcturus looked between them.

"You brought him here?"

"I requested him."

Aramaeis looked incredulous.

"And I came willingly."

"That doesn't make it better."

The General walked toward the map.

His eyes immediately found the evacuation routes.

"How bad, and have you seen Prince Dinraal?"

Aurelius answered him.

"The numbers are declining rapidly, and we just left the prince with my daughter and a few others. They've gone to find your sister."

Aramaeis listened without interruption.

When Aurelius finished, the General remained silent.

That frightened Arcturus more than any immediate response could have.

Finally, Aramaeis placed one hand against the table.

"Show me the projections."

Aurelius activated the display.

Numbers appeared.

Population estimates.

Birth rates.

Death rates.

Projected losses.

Aramaeis stared at them.

Then his face changed.

Not with fear.

With anger.

"Who else knows?"

"The necessary people."

"That is not what I asked."

Aurelius met his gaze.

"Not enough."

Aramaeis straightened.

"Then that changes now."

Arcturus looked at him.

"What are you thinking?"

The General pointed toward the map.

"We stop thinking about individual colonies."

Aurelius nodded slowly.

Arcturus frowned.

Aramaeis continued.

"We are no longer defending territory."

He looked at them both.

"We are defending the empire."

The room fell silent.

It sounded obvious.

That was why it was so terrible.

Somewhere along the way, they had forgotten the difference.

They had fought over borders.

Governments.

Resources.

Old grudges.

They had defended flags while the number of people left alive continued to shrink.

Aramaeis placed his finger over the largest evacuation center.

"This becomes the first priority."

Arcturus leaned forward.

"The settlement?"

"No."

Aramaeis looked at him.

"The people."

He pointed toward another location.

"Food production."

Another.

"Medical infrastructure."

Another.

"Schools."

Arcturus looked at him.

"Schools?"

Aramaeis's expression hardened.

"If we are planning for this empire to survive another hundred years, we need soldiers."

He moved his hand to another point on the map.

"If we are planning for it to survive another thousand—"

His finger returned to the schools.

"—we need children who live long enough to become something other than soldiers."

No one argued.

Aurelius sat down.

For the first time that night, Arcturus saw something in the Chancellor's expression that he had not expected.

Relief.

Not because the problem had been solved.

It had not.

But because, finally, someone else understood the scale of it.

Arcturus slowly pulled out a chair.

"Fine."

Both men looked at him.

"Fine?"

Aurelius asked.

Arcturus pointed at them.

"We work together."

Aurelius's eyes narrowed slightly.

"That easily?"

"No."

Arcturus sat down.

"But we're out of time to keep hating each other."

Aramaeis gave a low laugh.

"That might be the wisest thing you've ever said."

"Don't get used to it."

Aurelius took his seat.

The three men looked down at the map.

Three men who had once stood on opposite sides of arguments that had seemed important.

Now those arguments looked very small.

Outside, thousands of evacuees waited for answers.

And somewhere beyond the city walls, dangers still watched humanity struggle to rebuild.

Aurelius spoke first.

"We need an evacuation authority."

Arcturus nodded.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!