NOTE: I do not own this badass painting, but I've made it clicky and lead to it's owner. I hope he doesn't mind...
Marco was standing on top of the ramparts that had an ornamental rather than actually defensive role within the Residence. He liked to stay here for some time and look over the city. It was making him feel proud of what he and his father achieved so far. And what both his son and daughter could achieve one day. The Consejo was rising to power. Their convoys started to make their way to both Kusari and Bretonia, and their raiders were bringing back more and more goods, from simple food and clothes to occasional military-grade equipment, including the memorable bretonian battlemech brought back few weeks ago. It was now proudly guarding the Residence, with a big head of a silver wolf painted on it in place of bretonian flag. The silver wolf. The symbol of their power. The emblem of their greatness. He thought about the past, before the Consejo was formed. They couldn't even think about affording such a Residence, not even saying about a single Armicustost class transport. But now, now their name was known. The Narvaez. The lords of Vigo and around. He was more than confident that they were able to achieve more than that. More than just one city and surrounding villages. He looked behind after hearing footsteps.
It was his father, Ricardo Narvaez. The elder. The one that held their power. The one that led them in their rise. And the one that'll lead them for a long time. he was wearing his usual simple jacket and pants, with boots and a belt with his favourite machete attached to it. It was almost as old it's owner. The elder was escorted by one of his most trusted guards, Jose. Old Jose, loyally serving their family for decades now.
Ricardo nodded at his son and leaned against the wall, nodding at Jose to leave them alone. Marco nodded back and waited untill the guard will move away. Before he could say anything however, his father spoke first.
- It's a good day, isn't it?
- Si, padre.
- The crops are good this year, Outcasts stuck in stalemate and Hessians are getting slaughtered one after another.
- Indeed, padre.
Ricardo looked at his son with a slight annoyance on his face.
- Marco, don't be such a "si-man" towards me.
- Si, padre.
The elder turned towards him and raised his eyebrow.
- Apenado, padre. I... I just can't simply talk with you like with someone equal. It's... out of place.
- Marco, after all those years you should've got used to it. Try harder from now on.
- S... - Marco glanced at his father and closed his mouth.
Ricardo remained silent for some time, watching the city and nearby farms.
- Marco, tell me, what do you see?
- Vigo, padre. Our home and pride.
- And...?
- Our people. Our warriors, workers. Our strength.
- Exactly, Marco, those people are our strength. Do you think they're loyal?
- Of course.
- Do you think they'd follow me no matter what?
- Si, they would.
- Would they follow you?
Marco hesitated a bit before answering.
- Si... Why do you ask that, padre? You are the elder.
- And you'll be my successor, Marco Sooner rather than later.
- Do we have to...
- We do, Marco. I'm already 72 years old. How much longer do you expect me to live?
- But, your health is what many Corsairs way younger than you can only dream about!
- It's not the health, Marco. I'm getting old, slow and reckless even. I'll sooner or later end up sucked into space from my Titan's cockpit in the middle of nowhere.
- I dare to doubt that.
- You dare to impair the brutal truth of our way of life, son. Don't do that again.
Marco only nodded this time. A moment of silnce passed before the elder spoke again.
- The Empire is changing. The Council gets weaker, Benitez are over, the Brotherhood pretty much rules us all. The society is changing. We're opening on other cultures and nations. Slowly, but steady. I'll tell you something, son, if the Brotherhood is going to hold the whole Empire under their control, we'll be over. They'll doom us, Marco, their recklessness and aggression will put our allies against us. They're selfish, they don't care much about others. All they want is war and power. And that's why I've contacted Nunes and Borozan. That's why Consejo exists, my son. To let their brutality be unleashed on the frontlines instead of here, at our home. Maybe I'll live to see this happen, maybe I wont. But it is your responsibility to make this happen at all costs. Is that clear, Marco?
- Si, padre.