Mission Of Dreams

"Sir, the two captains died."

"Get out."

"But sir, the morale is—"

"Fucking out!"  A heavy fist slammed the table and nearly broke it into two. 

"…"  The captain practically ran out of the room with a pale face. 

Prince Oleg slumped back into his chair and placed his feet on the blood-colored desk. It was still his familiar room in his spaceship. But it felt so different today.

The painting near the door—the Zion royal family—stared back at him. His father, Duke Jataur stood at the center.

His brothers and sisters, born much later than him stood closer to their father while he…

A young Jataur stood at the boundaries of the picture, his position only better than the bastards his father fathered from whores.

'Talent…whoever said hardwork beats talent, they're fucking lying. They've never seen real talent.'

Jataur laughed, his fists balling tight and the corner of his eyes growing red.