Hounds of Orion

Two sets of footsteps echoed off the thick alabaster walls, muffling the conversation between Marcus and Logan.

“It’s good to see you Logan,” Marcus began, trying to keep his voice low. “But I must say… you’ve definitely made an impression on the boy.”

“Is that not what the job entailed?” Logan asked, making no point to hide the booming deep timbre of his words.

“This is fair, but there’s a fine line between making an impression, and driving a further wedge between Cameron and the role they need him to play.”

“Don’t give me that shit,” Logan said with a growl, coming to a stop as he turned and looked at his friend. “You and I both know what forcing something like this can do to a kid. He’ll fight it tooth and nail or give up and half ass it. Both of which aren’t exactly ideal for the Ketris’ security posture.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow, looking back at Logan sympathetically. “Sounds like you still care about our little backwater Logan. Why is that?”

“Why wouldn’t I care Marcus? This is my home. I was born here, and even if I become just another number on some inner-system world, my origin can’t be taken away from me.”

“But why him, why now? Why are you really back Logan? I know I’ve personally tried to reach out multiple times over the decade. No word at all. No call, letter, visit, nothing. Hell, if I hadn’t been keeping an eye on your pilot status, I would have assumed you were dead.”

Logan took a moment to gather his thoughts before responding, chewing on his bottom lip. “Maybe it was time for a homecoming Marcus.”

“Indeed, and now that you’re here?”

“I’d say I got my work cut out for me.” Logan said, a smile flashing on his face.

“Ah well, in all truth, he reminds me of a certain someone.” Marcus returned the smile with one his own, a teasing glint in his eye. “If I recall correctly, you weren’t exactly keen to follow orders either growing up.”

“There’s a big difference between who I was at his age and who he is now.”

“Oh? and just what difference would that be?”

“You only had to beat me once.” Logan said, turning away and walking slowly towards the sounds of a bustling dining room.

***

Cameron winced in pain, the second the ice pack made contact with the side of his head.

“Ah! Watch it Miranda!” He snapped.

“Oh stop being such a baby.” She replied in a scolding tone, pressing the pack further onto his bruised temple. “It’s not my fault you went and got yourself smashed up.”

“I feel like it is. He’s only doing this because of my so-called ‘duties to the kingdom’.” He said, making air quotations, while straightening his position in the chair, begrudgingly allowing his sister to fuss over him.

“Well did you ever think about sucking it up and, I don’t know… actually performing those duties?”

“Oh we’re doing this now are we? I’m injured, you know!”

“You’re going to be more injured if you don’t stop acting like a child.”

“Oh you are in RARE form today sis. Dad would be proud.”

“Well at least he’d be proud of one of us.”

The pair hadn’t stopped bickering since the moment Miranda eyes fell on Cameron’s beaten and bloody form. After an initial shock and worry for his health, once she could tell there was no permanent damage done, she’d laid into him with all manner of fuss and lecture. This was one of the rare moments that she had dropped her regal airs and got down to her brother’s level. The pair flung insults and argued back and forth from the entrance of the courtyard, all the way to Cameron’s room, witnesses be damned.

“What are you even doing here?” Cameron asked, voice laced with equal parts frustration and exhaustion. “Don’t you have a bunch of dignitaries to impress?”

“Yes Cameron I do.” She replied, her tone matching her brother’s as she let out an exasperated sigh while cleaning the cuts on his arms and legs.

“And instead of doing that, I'm here tending to you. Funny how that works isn’t it? The whole planet comes to a stop while I assist you with your latest crisis.”

“I didn’t ask you to come here.” He grumbled, though deep down he knew he wouldn’t have turned down her help.

“And I didn’t ask if I could come. Now, keep pressure on that pack and open your eyes.” She said, taking Cameron’s hand and planting on the side of his head with more force than was probably necessary. Afterwards, she stood, walking across the room full of opulent furnishings and empty wine bottles to throw open the doors to Cameron’s walk-in closet.

“What are you doing?” He asked, confused as she tossed several colorful garments out onto a nearby ottoman.

“Helping you prepare of course.” She said, paying him no mind as she laid out the accessories for several outfits. “For the ball.”

“Ah yes ... the ball … when is that again?”

She stopped what she was doing, looking at him in astonishment.

“I swear, it’s like you hate me. We’ve been over this. It’s the coronation ball at the end of the month. Before I take the throne, all the nobles of Ketris will come to swear fealty to their new monarch. All of our cousins will be riding in from all over Ketris, some of whom we haven't seen since mother's funeral, to make sure the Pellyn family hasn't gone weak and put an invalid on the throne. What, did you think it was just a simple ‘Here you go, the nobles aren’t house-trained, lock up when you go on vacation?’”

Cameron's features turned sheepish, looking anywhere but at Miranda. “No…” He muttered, embarrassed. “I just forgot that was this month was all.”

“Well, luckily you have me to help remind you. Now, what do you think about the red one?”