OBT Forum

Boris Yeltsin Housing Complex #7
Moscow, Europe
Terra
November 6, 2780

Aaron lifted one hand to the buzzer beside the door, and then he paused.  He looked at the somber-faced SLDF troopers standing guard in the narrow hall, and he imagined that all of the occupants were looking out their peepholes wondering why he was here and what he wanted with Katyusha Timoshenko . . . these people had all too much experience with soldiers descending upon them in the depth of night to take away their neighbors never to be seen again.

He gathered himself and he raised his hand again, but the door opened.  “I am Katyusha Timoshenko—what is that you want?” the woman said defiantly.  She was dressed for the weather, with trousers and a thick sweater, even here in the small apartment, for the heaters in this old complex were not functioning efficiently.

“Madam Kerensky,” Aaron said softly, “I am Aaron DeChavilier—Aleksandr confided in me about you and his children.”

Her stern face melted into . . . relief, terror, grief?  Aaron wasn’t quite sure.  “May I come inside?”

She nodded and opened the door fully stepping back.  Aaron walked into the snug apartment—one common room, with a stove and refrigerator built into the walls, two bedrooms beyond, and a small bath.  Nothing more, but what few belongings she possessed were well-cared for and clean.  Two young men stood as the General entered their home.

“Do they know?” he asked.

“Da,” she answered.  “They know that their father is dead.”

Aaron nodded.  “I am Aaron DeChavilier . . . you must be Nicholas,” he said to the taller of the two, “and this is Andery.  I knew your father well—and I promised him that if necessary, I would see to his family’s well-being, were he not here to do so.”

“Poppa promised to come home—he lied to us,” the younger man said bitterly.  And the mother of the boys leaked a tear from the corner of her eye.

“He tried, desperately to come home, Andery.  He did all that he could to make certain that you and your brother and your mother—that all the people of the Star League would be safe from Stefan Amaris.  Pack your things . . . I will see to it that you are cared for in the manner that the General would have wanted.”

“We are leaving?” asked Nicholas with a start.  “We cannot leave . . . I will finish my final year in the spring!  And I have already applied for a position among the Frunze cadets.”

“The Frunze Academy will remain open to you—if that is your goal.  But I will not permit the General’s family to remain here in poverty, I swore that I would care for you as my own and I shall.  Further,” Aaron said with a wince, “there are those who would use you because of who your father was.  I will not let them.  Madam, surely you see this.”

“I do,” whispered Katyusha.  “Where are we going?”

“The city of Tacoma, in Washington Province, North America.  The Mount Baker Castle Brian was never hit by nuclear strikes—it was too close to Unity City and contained information the Rim Worlds considered too valuable for the Usurper to risk using those weapons upon it.  It is now the headquarters of the SLDF since it has been retaken.  You, and your family, will be safe there.”  As safe as any location on this shell-shocked planet, he thought.

“Nicholas, Andery,” Katyusha commanded as she nodded.  “Pack your things.”

Both the boys rushed off and Aaron nodded.  “You should gather what you need as well, Madam.”

She nodded again and motioned towards a stuffed chair sitting in the center of the cramped common room.  “Would you like some tea, while you wait, General DeChavilier?”

“Aaron.  My name is Aaron, ma’am.”

“Aaron,” she answered.  “Some tea?”

“Thank you, but no.”

“Then I will gather my belongings,” she answered as she entered the smaller of the two bedrooms and closed the door behind her.  And Aaron swallowed as he heard the quiet sobs coming from inside.

Good luck, have fun, be safe and enjoy! Happy Birthday! (A wee bit early.)