How often do you think people speak of peace? No land is without strife, so you suppose all those in woe speak of it often. The people in woe are more often then not the commoners of the land. The laborers, shopkeepers, the farmers. The people necessary for a land to be a land in general. Though oddly enough, it is those of Noble birth that speak of peace the most. For it is they who are responsible for every aspect and facet of achieving the peace, yet also the reason why there is none. The common people couldn't care less who truly ruled, so long as they can scrape out their own way in the world. So when the Three Nations of our planet claimed peace between them, the common folk were happy. nut the Nobles ever happier. Nothing changes. Though, peace, however a popular ideal it is, is fragile. How long would the peace last? For many fools are under the notion that once peace is established, it is permanent. This is not so. How long until the next generation brings forth a vicious ruler, or an idiot one? What would it take for the peace to break? How easy is it to slip into war? Very easy. All it takes.....is a single word.Lorenzo stopped typing and began to massage his eyes. He had been working on his thesis for several months now, though only recntly has he really found the time to truly work on it. He would have to think of a title eventually, but or now, he was content on just calling it his thesis. He looked over at his clock and realized he should probably check on his prisoner soon. Lorenzo gave a satisfying crack to his neck and stood up from his leather bound captains chair siting behind his large wooden desk. Vladamir was kind enough to send him a real wooden desk for his position on the Station. The smell of real wood would sometimes let him forget that he was in the darkness of space.
He grabbed his gloves from his hat and placed them on his hands, then he did the same with his cap. He adjusted himself in the mirror, making sure he looked as presentable as his rank would require. Once he was satisfied, he walked back over to his desk and lightly grasped the green stem of a pure black Orchid. He gave it a loving smell and let one of his rare true smiles spread across his face. Lorenzo then gathered himself, placed the Orchid down, and marched off out of his office.
He marched off down the hallway towards where she was being kept. He hadn't really seen much of her, but he had read her file enough to know what she was like. She was, out of the three, easily the most dangerous. At least, that's what her power would suggest. Fires in a pressurized space would be absolutely destructive. If she wasn't careful, or him, she could destroy the entire station......in a worst case scenario. Which is probably why Lorenzo was but in charge of her. His mind briefly wandered to Lt. Mortair and Pvt. Point's progress with their respective wards.
Lorenzo finally reached the cell and found himself at its entrance. He stared to see she had awoken. He put on a charming smile.
"Good morning Ms. Montoway. Though I say good morning, on this station there is no actual relevance to time, as time of day is measured from within an atmosphere, instead of out here in the Void. I am Ryker, Captain First Class." He then stopped briefly and chuckled lightly to himself.
"Though, I doubt you care of my station. So, lets make things a little less formal then you're used too. For all intensive purposes while you're here, I am not a Captain, and you are not a Princess. How does that sound, neh?"