Umoja was the purest corner of the human worlds in the Koprulu sector—like the radiant dimple on a young girl's face as she smiled.
This beautiful planet boasted a romantic orange sky and air filled with a fresh, fragrant scent. Cities of white steel and glass rose between vast plains and winding rivers, while far across the open grasslands were the ranches of Umoja's herders and their leisurely roaming "cattle and sheep."
The Pasteur family estate was a vast and symmetrically arranged complex of silver buildings. These majestic and proportioned structures were made of white steel and wide bronze-framed glass windows, which sparkled in the sunlight like clusters of luminous white silver and orderly crystals.
In front of the estate lay a fenced garden, home to a diverse variety of green vegetation. Gently arched trellises were covered with vibrant green climbing vines, their branches bearing clusters of berries and raspberries unique to Umoja.
Gardener robots watched over the master's beloved garden day and night—watering flowers, trimming lawns, and selecting and rotating plant species to keep the garden evergreen year-round. Even in the coldest winters, flowers still bloomed.
Within the lush and flourishing garden ran a winding stream, its waters clear and gently flowing, flanked on both sides by soft, neatly trimmed lawns.
Augustus's aircraft landed on the heat-resistant ceramic platform of the Pasteur estate's private helipad. The delicate floral scent in the air made him feel, if only for a moment, as though he had stepped into a garden world—testament to how well the Umojans had protected their environment through centuries of rapid development.
Umoja's white-steel cities and manor homes, glowing with soft blue lights, coexisted harmoniously with nature. Each enhanced the other; the contrast was charming and balanced.
After the aircraft came to a stop, Augustus shook hands with the pilot in the captain's seat and jumped down. Both the aircraft and pilot belonged to the Umoja National Defense Forces, so he had no concern about his whereabouts being exposed—at most, others would only know he had boarded a shuttle headed toward the Korhal system.
It was a beautiful morning on Umoja, the sunlight gentle and golden. Above him stretched the orange sky, and the faint floral scent lingering in the air reminded him he was in an alien world. Just outside the small helipad was the lush, flower-filled garden of the Pasteur estate, tended by robots with white metal casings.
This was a world of advanced technology—emerging technologies touched every aspect of life on Umoja.
Very few people knew of Augustus's visit, including Ailin Pasteur himself, so no one was waiting for him at the landing pad. Augustus's purpose here was twofold: to visit his family currently on Umoja, and more importantly, to head to the headquarters of the Umoja National Defense Forces.
After securing a recruitment permit from the Umoja elected parliament, Augustus also intended to raise a large volunteer force on this planet.
Ailin Pasteur was not at his estate today. He spent most of the year either on Korhal, in the Umoja parliament, or traveling between the two.
Under the guidance of a butler who had rushed over in haste, Augustus passed through the garden and entered the Pasteur residence. It was a building of white steel and marble, its wide doors and windows framed in bronze. The round domed roof was set with color-gradient stained glass—Umojan architecture emphasized symmetry and harmony.
It was a world of beauty and peace, with a cultural temperament and architectural style vastly different from desolate worlds like Meinhoff.
Led by the butler, Augustus passed through corridor after corridor—each fitted with large glass windows that let sunlight pour in—and finally entered the Pasteur family's sitting room. He noticed at once that the decor was nothing like the extravagant opulence of Tarsonis nobility, yet every piece of wooden furniture and cabinet was a meticulously crafted work of art.
As Augustus stepped into a room with polished hardwood floors, he heard a joyful scream.
Dorothy, wearing a black-and-white checkered long dress, came running toward her brother. On the long sofa sat their mother, Catherine, and a blonde woman with her hair styled in a high bun, both slicing fruit with small knives.
He immediately realized that the woman before him was Juliana Pasteur—the current mistress of the Pasteur estate, only daughter of Umoja diplomat Ailin Pasteur, and mother of Arcturus's son, Valerian.
It had to be said—Juliana was strikingly beautiful. Though dressed in a simple white house dress, her figure remained as graceful as that of a young maiden. It was clear that Catherine was quite fond of her. The two women resembled each other, sharing the same noble elegance and composure befitting the lady of an estate. Both were well-versed in etiquette, cooking, gardening, history, geography, and every other skill expected of a noblewoman.
Catherine was a very strong-willed woman, and Augustus had no doubt that Juliana was no less formidable.
Before he could greet them, Augustus suddenly felt his eyelid twitch.
He noticed a young girl standing beside his mother Catherine. She wore a white dress and had her blonde hair tied into twin tails.
Her skin was smooth and radiant—milky white and flawless. Her shimmering golden hair, along with a pair of cold gray eyes that matched Augustus's own, confirmed her bloodline as a descendant of House Mengsk. The realization nearly made Augustus groan in pain.
Compared to Augustus's own features as a child, Valerian's facial contours were softer. Even as an uncle, Augustus found the child's appearance a bit too delicate—his father Arcturus had a far sterner face, as if chiseled from stone.
Perhaps Valerian had always been a more fragile child, because Augustus didn't find it particularly out of place.
"You should've told me you were coming, Augustus," Catherine said, both delighted and mildly reproachful.
"It was too dangerous. I couldn't contact you—doing so might have revealed your location." Augustus stepped forward toward his mother. At that moment, he noticed Juliana subtly shift where she stood, straightening her dress with a slightly uneasy motion.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Augustus of House Mengsk," Juliana said.
"The pleasure is mine. Juliana, allow me to apologize for my foolish brother," Augustus replied with his trademark smile.
He didn't realize just how much that smile resembled Arcturus's at age eighteen—so much so that Juliana's heart skipped a beat.
"Who is he? Is that Daddy?" little Valerian asked cheerfully, breaking into a bright smile. He had never met his father in person, only seen photographs of Arcturus when he was twenty.
Like many young children, Valerian idolized the father he had never met, and dreamed day and night of the moment he could finally see him.
"That's your uncle," Catherine said gently, smiling down at him.
...
Two fragrant logs crackled in the fireplace, filling the room with a calming aroma that soothed Augustus's weariness from interstellar travel. The climate control system maintained the air at a warm and comfortable level.
"I won't be staying here long. Just a few days at most. I'll probably return to Korhal in about a week."
Augustus sat beside his mother, while Valerian, ever the well-behaved child, curiously observed his uncle. Unlike his father and uncle at that age, he was far less mischievous.
"You must be careful of those who harbor hatred for the Mengsk family—old aristocrats, senators in the Palatine Forum who fiercely support the Federation, and covert agents," Catherine warned, her expression full of concern. "They have countless ways to assassinate you or your father. Senator Dorendor was shot dead during a speech in broad daylight. Their methods are endless."
"Don't worry, Mother. They wouldn't dare kill a senator in front of the public," Augustus said, even though he wasn't entirely sure of that himself. "We're not going to die."
"Every member of the Mengsk family is bound by destiny. Leading the people of Korhal is our calling."
Catherine smiled faintly, choosing not to voice her worries further. She beckoned to Valerian, who joyfully leapt into his grandmother's embrace.
"Valerian is already seven years old, and he still hasn't met his father," Catherine said, her gaze softening with affection as she looked at her grandson. "We've lost all contact with Arcturus. It's as if he vanished."
"Mother, why do you keep dressing him in skirts? I don't think that's good for a child's development. Valerian..." Augustus muttered quietly.
"You wore them too when you were little," Catherine reminded him. "And I thought you looked lovely in them. The other ladies envied me for having two beautiful daughters!"
Augustus was left speechless—
"Yes, brother, remember? The eldest son of House Duquende once swore in front of the heirs of the Old Families that he would marry you," Dorothy suddenly interjected, delivering the remark with wicked glee.
"That's why I beat him up later," Augustus said, recalling that particular embarrassment from his school days. "That bastard Duquende actually said he didn't care about my gender—because skirts make everyone look the same."
"Alright, let's not talk about that anymore. Mother, I'm begging you—please stop bringing it up." Augustus shifted his attention entirely to his young nephew, his affection evident and genuine.
"Juliana, you will become the greatest mother in the world. Your name deserves to be remembered in the history books. Both the people of Korhal and the Umojans admire you—because you brought this child into the world." He used this sudden and dramatic praise to divert the attention of both his mother and sister.
"He is the continuation of my brother's life—he carries the blood of the Mengsk family. I swear I will protect him. I will love him as if he were my own son."
Then Augustus looked into Valerian's shimmering, cool gray eyes.
"The moment I first saw you, Valerian, I saw a future shining with glory. You will grow into a remarkable young man—brave and righteous, willing to fight for your people's protection, just like every Mengsk who came before you."
"You won't be corrupted by admirers' affections, nor will you be swayed by sycophants' ambitions."
"Valerian, one day, you will become a hero."
Augustus's words stirred something deep in the boy's heart. Valerian looked up at his uncle, eyes wide with wonder. "A hero, like my father?"
"Yes... like your father," Augustus replied after a brief hesitation.
"Uncle, my mother says Father is a hero. She says he's a soldier, fighting aliens out in the galaxy to protect others," Valerian said with excitement.
"No... he's not a soldier anymore," Augustus said.
"Hmm?" Valerian tilted his head, and Augustus had to admit—his nephew, with his hair done up in twin ponytails, really was adorable.
"He's not a soldier anymore. So why doesn't he come back to live with you and me?"
"Because…" Augustus glanced at Juliana, carefully choosing his words. "Because your father still has great things to accomplish. He's out there… conquering the stars."
"So that means he's adventuring through space! My father is a brave explorer!"
Valerian's beautiful, cool gray eyes sparkled even brighter.
"Yes, he's an explorer," Augustus said with a smile.
"Your father is busy with his great mission and can't pull himself away just yet. But one day, he will return to you."
Though in truth, Augustus knew all too well—someone like Arcturus would never be tied down by family. That restless heart of his might never settle. He would never stop for the sake of being a husband or father.
"If I become an explorer too, then I can go look for him!" Valerian declared.
"What do you want to do in the future?" Augustus's eyes lit up. In his nephew, he saw glimpses of Arcturus.
"I love the stars. I want to go on adventures, to other worlds, to meet aliens. But I don't want to fight them—I want to make friends."
Valerian added, "I want to uncover alien ruins and search for mysterious palaces."
"Mysteries among the stars are worth exploring."
Augustus was amazed the boy even knew about such things.
"Valerian has always loved gazing at the stars," Juliana explained. "And some magazines from Umoja that featured mysterious alien ruins had a big influence on him. Those palaces shaped like a giant's ribcage… the massive crystal alcoves inside, filled with elegant yet indecipherable writing… the sunken cities beneath polar oceans… and the crumbling ruins scattered across desert planets."
"Little Valerian dreams of finding these alien civilizations. He truly believes aliens exist—and that humans can one day find a path to peaceful coexistence."
"I believe that too," Augustus said, turning to Valerian. "But to become an explorer like your father, you'll have to grow strong and wise."
"A child of the Mengsk family begins training at this age—swordsmanship and ancient martial arts. You'll need to study a lot: economics, politics, literature," Augustus continued.
"In the mornings, you'll spend time with the wisest elders, refining your spirit with books and poetry. In the afternoons, you'll train with the soldiers—learning to wield swords and guns, and learning how to gather and inspire those who follow you… so they may become your spear and your shield."
Augustus spoke with high hopes for his nephew.
"But I just want to see aliens," Valerian said, conflicted. "I like reading… I don't like swords and guns."
"That's alright," Augustus said gently. "Who you choose to become is entirely up to you."
As he spoke, Augustus thought of his father, Angus, and silently vowed—he would never force Valerian down a path chosen by others.
---
I will post some extra Chapters in Patreon, you can check it out. >> patreon.com/TitoVillar
---