Titanyana cked the vocabury - English vocabury - to adequately describe both her thoughts and feelings as the screen faded to bck. These movies, fantastic depictions of Terran imagination and culture, had proven themselves capable of provoking fantastic emotions in her. She had experienced joy, whimsy, excitement, fear, sadness, relief, and a litany of others, not to mention the dispy of a more complete Terran society as they were before everything was lost.

  Titanyana had seen the wonders of flight and computers, the horrors of disease and illness, and marveled at the strange political and economic systems that presented themselves across different narratives. Even the monarchies expressed characteristics completely different to her. This went without saying, but she recognized that her own monarchal system was a bit of an oddity as well, as was the way their economy worked, however she generally assumed this to be a result of their dire situation rather than having any specific cultural reason. After all, their culture was shaped by their situation, not the other way around.

  Regardless, those thoughts had vacated the current Titanyana's head. She did not consider the governments, or the economy, or even the people. In their stead were the contents of the movie she had just watched, as well as those of the day prior.

  War.

  To be fair, she had received something like a taste of this topic from Arc's history lessons, but they hadn't progressed to the point of gunpowder in their lessons by now. All she had seen of it was brief demonstrations intended to satisfy her curiosity, and vague mentions of it in the absolute behemoth of a film they had sat through yesterday. The opening scene of this movie, though . . . well, Petunia had to excuse herself for reasons apparent.

  Her first impression was that of confusion. A fg, the 'country' to which it belonged she now recognized, waving to somber music cutting to an elderly man walking ahead of his family, isoted in spite of their familial bonds, his attention focused entirely upon something different. That something would only be shown by as he ventured off the beaten path into a field of monuments evenly spaced across an area greater than the screen could show, almost all of which took the same form - a white 't' stuck into the ground. Titanyana did not need it expined to her that these were graves, but the transition from the man's unfocused eyes to the spiked things on the beach confused her. As did the date (which she had learned to read) and the boats.

  They were metal, which alone was not surprising at this point, but it didn't look like it was a boat meant for going pces. There were too many people in them, and they didn't look seaworthy. She didn't need to wait long for her answer though. The front of the boat dropped to let them out, but death rushed in.

  What followed was a dispy of war to which she had no reference and no point of comparison. It was impersonal, bloody, savage, and unfair. Men died without so much as a chance to fight back, the lucky ones dying immediately while the less fortunate y screaming and crying in the blood-soaked sand. Those who managed to survive the bombardment and hail of bullets crawled up to the base of the fortifications to continue the engagement, blowing clouds of fme inside their bunkers to cook them alive while shooting any who fled, and even a few that surrendered.

  The scene of men her age being sughtered like poultry hovered at the back of her consciousness as the movie continued, smothering any insights she might have made into the characters and thoughts she could have had about the 'mission' the soldiers had been tasked with. Every encounter with opposition only added to that scene; a kind man being picked off for trying to help an innocent child; a medic trained to save lives instead having to instruct his patients on how to save him, ultimately directing them to stop the pain; a naive young man with the best intentions actions resulting in the death of his comrades. All of these events culminated in a mire of despair in Titanyana's heart.

  There was a light at the end of the proverbial tunnel, the characters themselves made mention of the end of the war being near at hand, but no matter what any of them did there did not seem to be an end. It didn't matter if you made it off the beach, there was always another bunker behind it, and a trench behind that, and then a hedgerow, and it just never seemed to end. Titanyana could not see how the efforts of a single person could ever hope to change the outcome of a war, and that bothered her.

  These people on screen were, as far as she was concerned, heroes. Average men facing death with no guarantee of survival, many of whom were going to die in the process, and yet not a single one of them had a tangible impact on the war. Even the main character, the commander of the group the story followed, was not the hero at the climax of the film. Instead, the honor was given to a nameless and faceless individual flying in one of those pnes. Ultimately, the efforts of a single man meant little.

  This stood in stark contrast to every other movie they had watched. Even the ones more focused around teamwork made it clear that without the presence of the main character, nothing would have been accomplished. They were heroes, even if they didn't want to be, and they all got a happy ending.

  "Titanyana?" She flinched as Diana prodded her shoulder, only now noticing her trembling hands. "Are you okay? You weren't moving."

  "I'm fine, I was just . . . thinking."

  "About the movie? I saw Petunia leave with a hand over her mouth." Titanyana remembered the commotion to her side as her maid made to leave. "Would you like to go check up on her?"

  "Yes, I think we should." Titanyana just wanted to get out of the theater at this point. "I, um, never mind."

  "What? I won't ugh if its an embarrassing question."

  "No, um, I just think it would be better if I ask Donovan. I know you aren't the best when it comes to war . . ."

  "Ah, I suppose that's true. Its a shame he didn't watch the movie, I think he would have enjoyed this one." One of Titanyana's ears flicked, a subconscious reaction to unexpected information. He would have enjoyed that? Why? What was there to enjoy about that movie? Had she missed something obvious? Or was Donovan more sadistic than he let on? "I really wanted to cuddle up into him during the suspenseful bits too."

  "Huh?" Titanyana tilted her head at that odd bit of information as they stepped onto the elevator.

  "Skin ship is important in a retionship, and I've been missing it since we've embarked. I got a little taste of it earlier today, needless to say my desires have not been fulfilled."

  "O-oh." Titanyana wasn't sure what to make of Diana's comments. Perhaps it was a culture thing, some form of courtship involving the use of a fake threat to excuse otherwise immodest behavior. "Do you know where Petunia is?"

  "Her room. Arc says she went to the bathroom to vomit before retiring." Diana put away her tablet as the elevator door opened. "I imagine she is taking a nap."

  Titanyana's ears folded down. Has she not been prepared for the reality of war to some extent by Arc's lessons, chances are she would have had the same reaction. Even then, her expectations had been blown away.

  - - - - -

  "So where's Diana?" Titanyana, chest to the backrest of the chair so as to leave her tail free, watched over Donovan's shoulder as she fumbled around inside her head to formute the question she wanted to ask.

  "She went to check on Cayzi, I believe. He wasn't . . . he seemed pretty shaken up." Presenting a false front on the kid's behalf didn't seem like the best of ideas. "But, um, I wanted to ask you something."

  "I'm all ears." He said that, but didn't even bother to look at her. She supposed that wasn't entirely a bad thing though, a disheveled appearance would not leave the best impression about her ability to handle this sort of thing.

  "This, um, I wonder how I should put it . . ." She needed a bit more time to figure out her phrasing. ". . . will my people have to participate in the same kind of war I saw in that movie?"

  "Hm? Why do you ask?" Donovan set aside the tab he was reading from to get a quick summary of the film.

  "Well, um, it just seemed so . . . meaningless?" Titanyana cringed a little as the word left her lips. There was no way that a war of such ferocity could be fought without a purpose. She needed to eborate. "I mean, uh, it just felt like there was nothing a single person could do to have an impact on the outcome. The situation of the soldiers felt so hopeless, like there wasn't any chance they would see the end of it. I just wanted to . . . you know?"

  Donovan sighed as he looked over his shoulder, their eyes locking.

  "I'm not going to lie to you, Titanyana. I find the prospect of us getting into a position where we won't have to fight such a war before it becomes necessary dubious at best." Her tail curled up in into her hands, her ears fttening in anxiety. ". . . but at the same time, I don't think you have the right impression about it, if that makes sense. That was a different kind of war than the one you are used to, one you know nothing about."

  "Huh? What does that mean?"

  "The Nekh have never fought a war like that."

  "But, it's war?"

  "Not all wars are equal. That was a World War, a Total War."

  "World War? What?"

  "To be more specific, it was the second World war, a war where all of the major powers of the world engage each other in a struggle where being defeated means being dismantled or destroyed. The second one in particur was a war of the existential variety, one that would only end with the unconditional surrender or destruction of one side."

  "But, um, every war we've fought has been for our continued existence."

  "No, I don't think that's quite right." Donovan's words took her aback. "Your wars have been wars of survival, or those resisting subjugation. Sure, they have been a existential wars, but only for you. Were any of your enemies in a position where failure meant the complete dismantling of their empire and subjugation of their people?"

  "Huh? Uh, no?"

  "Then it wasn't a Total War. A total war mobilizes the entirety of a nation's popution and resource pools for the sole purpose of destroying the opposing nation or preventing the destruction of their own. Millions of people, both soldier and civilian, died in those wars. Can the same be said of yours?"

  ". . . no." Titanyana hadn't known that. It made sense though, millions of men fighting on fronts spanning continents, advancing hedgerow by hedgerow, building by building, isnd by isnd. All it took for her people to cim a victory was force an army or two to retreat back to wherever they came from, beyond that there was no pursuit.

  "Don't worry too much about it. I doubt we'll run into that type of war any time soon. Given the current state of the gaxy, such a war is at least a few hundred years away."

  "It is?"

  "Of course. The Arboreal Maiden might have imposed some restrictions upon what weapons we may employ in a terrestrial environment, but I have been granted free reign in the great big sea of space. Until our prospective opponents can achieve a level of retive parity, we have no need to fear invasion." Donovan turned back to his dispy. "Like I said, a few centuries minimum."

  "Oh." Titanyana didn't dare carry the conversation any further. Even if the answer she had received wasn't satisfying, it wasn't disturbing either. Besides, what was she worried about? Annihition? Were her people not on that path already? Did it make any difference if it was at the hands of the Terrans instead of a dying star? Maybe they would suffer a bit more, but wouldn't they prosper more as well? Besides, it wasn't like they would lose a war like that, right?

  ". . . you were also worried about the ck of individual contribution, right?" Titanyana's ears perked up. "You didn't think that a person could make a meaningful contribution in that type of war, right? That their situation was completely without hope?"

  "Y-yes. It didn't like they could do anything."

  "They got off the beach, didn't they?"

  "Huh?"

  "They made it past the bunkers, didn't they?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "They made progress. Even if hope seemed loss, weren't they always a little bit closer to victory?"

  "I-I suppose." Titanyana was still confused.

  "What part of that meant that there was no hope of victory? Of survival? Isn't the name of the movie 'Saving Private Ryan'?" Donovan was back to scrolling through whatever had occupied his attention previously. "Did Ryan, at the very least, survive?"

  ". . . he did."

  "And did they cim victory over the enemy?"

  ". . . they did."

  "Then who are you to say that their individual contributions were meaningless?" Donovan pinned her with an accusatory tone. "You speak of a war you know nothing about, making assumptions about its nature from surface level observations."

  ". . . I'm sorry." Titanyana and Donovan sat in silence for a moment, though for one of them it felt like hours. The growing embarrassment for having rushed to faulty conclusions and roused herself into a panic set in, her ears and eyes dropping to mirror her spirits.

  "You don't need to be sorry, Titanyana." Donovan cut the silence once Titanyana had been given enough time to stew. "I never expected you to understand that which you had no concept of without a discussion. Hell, I don't think Diana comprehends the concept of a Total War either, nor do I feel I will until I am engaged in one."

  ". . . I'm sorry . . ." She didn't know what else to say.

  "I know I'm not the best at this sort of communication so. . . I feel like I should recite a poem to you, if only to get the message across. Would you mind if I did so? Even if I butchered it?"

  "Go ahead, um, please."

  "For want of a nail, a shoe was lost. For want of a show, a horse was lost. For want of a horse, a rider was lost. For want to a rider, a battle was lost. For want of a battle, the war was lost. For want of a war, the kingdom was lost. All that was lost for want of a nail.

  Pretty ridiculous, right? Losing an entire kingdom because of one puny little nail?"

  "I-it does sound preposterous."

  "And yet that sentiment is the fundamental theory behind not just a total war, but a modern war. Sure, tactics and strategy are important, but nothing is possible without manpower and the material to support that manpower. Much the same, one man's contribution may be small, but without him nothing may be done. That is the power of a single nail, the power of a single man. Just one more man, one more gun in the fight, one more pair of eyes looking for a threat, one more chance to rey a message, one more shovel to dig a trench, one more perspective on a tactical problem, one more mind to come up with a breakthrough, one more pair of hands to stop the bleeding, all it can take to turn the tables is one, more, man.

  It doesn't matter if he never does anything important. It doesn't matter if he dies in the opening moments of a fight. It doesn't even matter if he never fires a shot at an enemy. Defeats have been turned to victory because one man was in the right pce at the right time, and they probably never knew it."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah. A little naval battle in the middle of the Pacific comes to mind. A string of unfortunate events for both sides lead one man with the right mindset to be in the right pce at the right time, and in a matter of minutes the battle was all but decided. That battle is generally regarded as the turning point of the war in that theater."

  Titanyana pondered the proposition, if only for a moment. If one man could make so much of a difference . . .

  "Would . . . would that man, the one in the right pce at the right time, be considered a hero?"

  Donovan turned his head just enough to be able to see Titanyana, the contents of a conversation she had not been present for repying in his mind. Perhaps Petunia had consulted Titanyana about the subject . . . or maybe that was just the logical conclusion someone looking for heroes in a world of despair would come to. Either way, his answer was the same.

  "I think a lot of my people would consider such a person a hero, yes."