Mengsk (ii) or Beauty and the Beast! or A Lesson Learned!

Planet: Umoja

Year:2529

Place: Umoja City

*Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Be-*

"Off," said Arcturus, rising from his bed. He strolled to his balcony door dressed in nothing at all. When his foot came within inches of the door. It swung open, displaying the rising sun for all to bask in. Its illuminating rays highlighted the planet's exotic plant life for all to see.

Mengsk basked in its glowing warmth before looking down at the city, now teeming with life and color.

Where the conference favored structures meant to display their power and wealth. The Umojan's favored sleek and efficient, piano white-colored designs, which accentuated their technology and highlighted the planet's natural beauty.

When he glanced across the growing crowd, each person was dressed in a stunning slim fit, brightly colored throb. (long Muslim-themed robes) That caused his eyes to linger before turning towards their leading class, to his surprise they dressed in a humble grey or white throb.

'Umojans, they're always acting so enlightened. As if God himself touched down upon them. When those cunts in high-command do A. Umojan's do B, before listing off a multitude of reasons as to why it is morally superior to whatever heinous shit the confederacy has cooking.

Truth is...that ain't hard, with how rotten the confederacy's grown. I mean really! The confederacy's a nation where the opportunistic can thrive? Who approved that horse shit! Don't they know...you can't rule SHIT! If the people below you, think they are superior.

But the Umojans, they are something else! They preach enlightenment and independence, yet their leading class must put on a charade of humility and reliance. Like what kind of "enlightened" nation acts humble? And what's most ironic is that members of their leading class are no better than our own! I mean. Yeah, their ideals and methods are different but the end result is the same,' thought Arcturus.

His ranting came to a stop as he looked up and noticed a blonde-haired woman, seated on the penthouse balcony across from his own. The two locked eyes, silently flirting as the woman took out her paints, brush, and canvas.

"Well, I say my lady. What sorta pose must I strike this beautiful morning?" Asked Arcturus, his beautiful southern accent sang within her ears, drawing her further into his grasp. She smiled longingly while taking her seat and her paintbrush. The woman laughed, joking, "well, I say! Lord Mengsk, your previous posture was...sublime." in her best southern accent.

"I guess most Umojans aren't so bad," said Mengsk. Returning to thought as the woman's brush started to move with the rising sun against his face.

"I guess some Confederate's have a heart," chimed the woman. Her words caused Mengsk to laugh, "Oh my darling you'd be surprised. My heart's as big, as your paints are bad," before ducking his head at the inevitable paintbrush.

His laughter quickly faded as his eyes did a quick once over the Umoja's capital city. "Why do yall model everything out of old earth pictures?" Asked Mengsk. The woman smiled before responding, "Why do Confederates waste resources trying to make everything more imposing?"

Mengsk paused. The woman sat there, painting everything but his face, Within her penthouse were multiple paintings of similar design. To her shock, the normal quick-witted Arcturus finally spoke after what felt like ages.

"They do it. To display their power and wealth, to intimidate their enemies while inspiring the masses. You see it in their clothes, artwork, everything. However, Umojan art makes no sense. How can you claim to design the latest earth anything when no human in this sector of space has seen it in damn near 300 years."

His words caused her to drop the brush and look down upon the people and buildings. The amount of disdain she displayed, would have any civilian label her confederate lover. Not that being with Arcturus would do her any favors.

For him, however, none of that mattered. Over the two years, he'd been on Umoja, Arcturus realized four things. That would help him become the man he was destined to be.

The first was that his father played him. He wasn't here to win them over, his father had long done that. He was here to serve as collateral for his father and the Umojan council's still ongoing negotiations. The second was that his father didn't love him. He only wanted the men he carefully cultivated. 'And the third is that he needed me off the board long enough to consolidate his place at the top,' thought Arcturus.

He couldn't help but crack a smile, out of respect for how bad his father outmaneuvered him, a military man. However, the fourth was what made him giddy. 'In all my years fighting Umojans I never realized just how much they hated Confederates,' thought Arcturus.

Right below his penthouse was one of the many upstart rallies that demanded the Umoja council do more to fight Confederate tyranny.

"The council should do more! The council should do more! The council should do more!" Yelled the crowd over and over. WIthin their hands were rebel posters designed by the very woman who was painting him now. This woman was Jullana Pasteur, the eldest daughter of Ailin Pasteur. A key member within the Umojan ruling council!

Officially the protector's creed made it impossible to trigger a war with any rival nation. However, the real reason they couldn't was simple; Umoja didn't have the numbers to invade Confederate space. And that was where the rebellion came in, but it was also the main source of debate amongst Umojan people.

'Even now, support for my--I mean. Pa's movement grows. And it's all thanks to my naive Jullana's ability to influence dear old daddy. But still, with our movements growing influence, comes more scrutiny.

With each passing day, the Conference turns more and more eyes towards our movement. And we're both smart enough to know, you can't hide behind anonymity forever pa. That treacherous bitch will look you in the eyes, and when it does...'

"Arcturus honey, why are you smiling?"