Chapter 64: Family Bonding
Orion stepped into his father's private study, the doors gliding shut behind him with a quiet hiss. The room was dimly lit, the primary source of illumination coming from the holographic display of the galaxy that hovered above Cassian's desk. The deep amber glow of whiskey swirled in a crystal glass in his father's hand, mixing with the rich scent of polished wood and leather-bound tomes lining the walls. It was a room designed for contemplation, strategy, and, more often than not, cold deliberation.
Cassian Reyes stood with his back to him, eyes locked on the galactic display. His fingers traced along invisible lines—warfronts, supply chains, tactical routes Orion could only begin to decipher. His father had always seen the galaxy not as a collection of worlds, but as a board on which the fate of civilizations was played. Tonight, Orion suspected, was no different.
"You enjoyed dinner?" Cassian finally asked, his voice steady, measured. He didn't turn around.
Orion shifted his stance, feeling the weight of the question, the weight of the room itself. "I did," he said, though there was an edge to his voice. He knew his father well enough to understand that this wasn't small talk.
Cassian turned then, his piercing gaze locking onto Orion's. The faintest hint of a smirk played at the corner of his lips, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Good. Because moments like these will become rarer."
He gestured toward the holographic map, his hand sweeping across distant stars. "War doesn't wait for family time."
Orion's shoulders tensed. He had anticipated this conversation since stepping off the warship Krasnikov, but now that he stood before his father, the weight of expectation pressed down harder than he had imagined. "Then why insist on it?"
Cassian regarded him for a long moment, as if deciding how much of the truth to reveal. Finally, he spoke. "Why do you think we're fighting?" He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
Orion felt his pulse quicken. The Pythia Initiative—the supposed breakthrough that would stabilize the Genesis strain, the Confederacy and the Dominion's reluctant collaboration. He had suspected that he would be drawn deeper into it, but hearing it confirmed left a bitter taste in his mouth.
His fingers curled into fists at his sides. "Because we don't have a choice."
Cassian took another measured sip of his whiskey, then exhaled softly. "We always have a choice, son." He set the glass down on the desk with a soft clink. "Power lies not in the choices we're given, but in our willingness to face what follows."