Legend of Ransera

It was not a long commute from the offices of the Grand Marshal to the offices of the State Department. Though Brenner's first visit to the former had been very recent, he bore an odd, perhaps even undue, sense of familiarity with the former. It had never been a regular or routine stop for the young Air Commander, but his memories of the few visits that preceded his recent rise were quite vivid. They had represented landmarks of acknowledgment and opportunity in a life devoted to the State. Only a few days in office, and Brenner already felt quite at home in his new workspace though, as he stepped into the lobby, he was forced to remember that redecoration was in order. His eyes fell from an antique coat of arms to the Lysanrin awaiting his arrival. The facility's ample security hadn't admitted Albrecht into the offices proper as word of Florian's new posting had not yet spread beyond Her Esteemed Excellency's office. It was about to.

"Undersecretary Albrecht." The First Minister smirked at the opportunity to address the Lysanrin by his new title once more. He knew it was a point of pride, as well it should be, and it also bound them twain. Brenner had vouched for Florian's advancement and thus was invested in his success. After all, it reflected upon him. He imagined the Undersecretary would feel the same, quid pro quo, which was a useful and very much deliberate outcome of the choice to promote him.

Glancing to the security contingent, he instructed.

"Gentlemen, this is the new Undersecretary of Domestic Relations." He withdrew a stamped writ from Astrid Kelgarde and displayed it, "Have him added to the approved list and inform the facility manager that he'll need a badge and an office in the corresponding department." With a sharp not, he turned back to Florian and placed a hand on the small of his back leading him beyond the checkpoint and up one of the staircases flanking the rear of the high-ceilinged lobby area.

"Come along, then. We have work to begin." The meeting with Kelgarde had left him with a great deal to unpack, but he knew his priorities and so he would tuck away the problems he couldn't immediately address in favour of those he could.

When they were halfway up the stairs, Brenner cast a sidelong glance back down to the guards who were now whispering amongst themselves.

"I ought to have warned you that not everyone will be pleased with your ascension, Albrecht, but I suppose you probably know that better than I..." He trailed off as his mind meandered back to the conversation that led to this turn of events. Florian had been thorough in detailing the trespasses he had brooked in and by Zaichaer. A few murmurs from disgruntled humans were far from the worst he would endure, but now that he was a prominent figure such slights would become more commonplace.

"Recruitment." He replied promptly to the question, withdrawing his hand from Florian's person as they reached the top of the steps. "This way." He just turned and stalked ahead rather than gesturing.

"Not overt recruitment, but the subtle sort. What I would like to do, Albrecht, is to stir nationalistic sentiment amongst all Zaichaeri citizens who are susceptible to such things. I have a good grasp on the human majority- Their wants, needs, buttons and triggers- but my frame of reference for the non-humans remains woefully lacking." They rounded a corner, and Brenner marched down a long hallway that ended in high double doors made of dark wood and studded with brass, flanked by two guards who immediately moved to open them upon seeing the First Minister.

"I know it will be an uphill battle with many of them, but I wonder whether you might give me a sense of their morale as it currently stands." They stepped into a large anteroom with comfortable seating and a secretary behind a desk, who stood and moved to open the door to Brenner's inner sanctum with a nod and an utterance of 'Your Excellency' as he strode by her.

"What can you tell me?" Before them was a broad, row of floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the Presidium and much of the greater city beyond.

"You, mein kleiner Schmetterling, are in the unenviable role of a symbol." Brenner noted, as he rounded the broad, mahogany island that was his desk. He pulled out the high-backed chair with its burgundy leather upholstery that might have been a throne in another realm, and seated himself- The active Zaichaeri cityscape serving as his backdrop.

"And part of our campaign must be to highlight the sacrifices you've made on behalf of Zaichaer. Of course not all of them..." He tipped his head to one side and leaned forward to place his elbows on the desk mat, which was fashioned from the same burgundy leather as the upholstery and framed in brass. "Needless to say our little foray into the Warrens remains classified, but your service on the Noble Gambit must be promoted." He pursed his lips, "Unfortunately, we must also exploit your trauma at the hands of the prior regime. Not only because it helps fortify our own position, but because you did not give up on the State. You've gone above and beyond the call of duty in a way I would warrant most humans know they would not. That sort of sacrifice is well worthy of note and..." He cracked a smile, "I must say, that line about this being your home that you delivered back at The Grand Marshal's office was rather a masterstroke. Keep up that kind of talk, and we'll have the humans eating out of your hand within the season." He opened a drawer on the left and fished around for a moment.

"Scheiße... I'm still figuring out the set up here." He scooted back to check a drawer on the right. "Ah, here we are." He withdrew a notebook and opened it to the first page, then reached to withdraw a pen from its clock-based stand, and began to scribble a few notes on Florian's explanation.

"I take your point." Brenner acknowledged, "We must lead by example, not just rhetoric. I'll take it as a favourable sign that Her Esteemed Excellency accorded me the right to place you in your current position. I can tend to the civilian matters, but we'll need to coordinate with her or the High Command about making the military accountable. She understands, as well as we do, that morale will be of paramount import in the days to come."

„Wie schade! Und mit einem so kathalischen Namen!” Brenner tsked. “That is to say it’s a shame you don’t speak Kathalan, when your name clearly originated from the tongue. Florian and Albrecht are both very traditional Gelerian names.” He noted, chiding albeit softly.

“Anyway, a Schmetterling is a butterfly.” He sniggered, “I can see how it sounds pejorative to an ear trained to hear in Common terms, but it is merely a reference to the tale you told me of fluttering wings and shifting priorities…” He trailed off.

“In point of fact you are in every position to argue… at least when we are in private. I will not brook being publicly undermined, but one of the reasons I saw fit to promote you to this position is that you are no mere sycophant. You are opinionated, but not unreasonably so. It is a weak minded wretch who needs to surround himself with only yes-men. I need to be challenged in private before I make my ideas public.” He sounded almost encouraging.

“Indeed. Our work will not be a fast and easy panacea for such deeply ingrained biases. We won’t cure bigotry overnight, but we will pave the way. We will render open racism to be socially unacceptable. Anathema.” He smiled faintly, “In the short term our goal is to do enough to dissuade revolt amongst the non-humans while the State is engaged in a foreign war in a way that doesn’t foment revolutionary notions amongst the human population. If we are too quick and too strident, we may lose the majority and that could be just as risky.

“I would charge you with finding other non-humans who have made remarkable sacrifices for Zaichaer. I am not opposed to highlighting tales of their mistreatment that will prove, for lack of a better term, humanising to our mainstream population. Do you think you could find such stalwart souls and convince them to promote the cause of their peoples’ advancement in Zaichaeri society?”

Brenner shrugged,

"There's really not much distinction between Zaichaeri and Gelerian nomenclature. It all comes from the same source and there are some who believe we are destined to reunite... Personally, I am concerned the Imperium has grown overly reliant upon witchcraft to work in concert with its technology, but at least they engage in regulatory practises, unlike Kalzasi. And one cannot but be in awe of their ambition..." He trailed off. The Imperium was a major and immediate point of concern for the First Minister. One of his main duties in the coming months would be to secure their support and to see that they retain a personal interest in Zaichaer's victory. They were cousin cultures, after all, and neither would be benefited by a powerful Kalzasi.

Brenner answered Albrecht's chuckle with one of his own. It had been a little bit of Florian's stubbornness and a lot of his timing. He'd fair fallen into Brenner's lap at rather a pivotal moment, and when his mind started to shift toward war preparation mode, the Lysanrin had been right in his eye line. It was only after he saw the youth as a token that he invested enough attention to mark his other merits.

Brenner pursed his lips. An immigrant who knew everything about the Knob and had a newspaper running? It had to be the one he'd addressed with the Grand Marshal.

"The Knob Free Press, I presume?" He arched an eyebrow. "Their inaugural printing produced a rather incendiary portrayal of my actions at the pid-..." Brenner caught himself, realising that he probably shouldn't use racial slurs anymore- Even against the dreaded Avialae. He corrected: "...at the prince's reception." He tilted his head,

"Though I believe I may have benefited somewhat from the implications... At least amongst certain circles." After a moment's consideration he nodded. "Very well. Set it up."