The Emperor's Sword

[TakeoKurita]

Takeo Kurita sits slumped over in his chair in the conference room awaiting the others. A young man in his thirties, he wears the stress-induced wrinkles and rank badges of someone much older. The war had not been going well for him, and despite only being a captain when the fleet was defeated by Gallic invaders, survival had rewarded him time and time again with more command and more worries.

Despite all the death around him, he had been raised by his family to believe in the emperor as a god-like figure. When an aide brought him the news he could not handle it, or muster the strength to go out to the loading bay. Commanders die, sailors die, this was the nature of war, but if god could perish, then what hope did that leave him to survive these dark days?

When he head the door to the conference room open, thankfully his years of military training kicked in and the young man jumped up out of his seat and clicked his heels together at attention. For that one moment everything else went dark and all his hopes and prayers rested on the desire that the others not see his weakness.

---