Sebastian's Tide

Chapter 3: Tides of Tension

Baste’s footsteps echoed down the long hallway of the family’s sprawling estate, each step heavier than the last. The weight of what was to come settled deep in his chest. He had been dreading this meeting with his brothers for weeks now, knowing that the discussion about Sierra Verde, their latest project, was inevitable. He had hoped to delay it, to keep his head in the sand for just a little longer, but the moment had arrived.

The door to the private dining room was open just a crack, and through it, Baste could see his brothers already seated around the massive oak table. Santi was at the head, as always, and the rest of his brothers—Sal, Sammy, and Sandro—sat in their usual places. The tension in the air was almost palpable, and Baste could feel it pressing on him, even before he stepped into the room.

“Baste,” Santi’s voice called out from inside, and Baste knew that the eldest Domingo didn’t need to raise his voice to command attention. Santi’s mere presence had that effect. “Come on in, we’re waiting for you.”

With a heavy sigh, Baste pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room went quiet for a moment as his brothers turned their eyes on him, each expression a mixture of concern, curiosity, and something else he couldn’t quite place.

“Late as usual, huh, Baste?” Sal’s voice broke the silence, a teasing smile on his lips, but there was a sharp edge to it.

“Had some things to finish up at the lab,” Baste replied, forcing a half-smile. “You know how it is.”

He moved to sit at the far end of the table, his usual spot. He leaned back in his chair and glanced at each of his brothers in turn. There was no mistaking the tension in the air. Santi, as always, looked like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, his brow furrowed as he studied the papers in front of him. Sal, always the pragmatist, was scanning through a tablet, likely reviewing the financials for the Sierra Verde project. Sammy, the quiet one, sat back in his chair with his arms crossed, his face unreadable. Sandro, the youngest, was fiddling with his phone, clearly bored but aware of the gravity of the conversation they were about to have.

“Baste,” Santi began, his voice firm but calm, “we need to talk about Sierra Verde.”

Baste stiffened. Of course, they did. He had been avoiding this conversation for too long. The Palawan Project, named Sierra Verde, was the family’s latest big venture—a massive resort development aimed at putting Palawan on the map as a luxury destination. But for Baste, the marine biologist and environmental advocate, it was the last thing he wanted to see happen. The expansion of the resort was going to have a significant impact on the local ecosystem, particularly the coral reefs and the surrounding marine life that Baste had worked so hard to protect.

“I’ve seen the reports,” Santi continued, his eyes meeting Baste’s. “I know you have concerns. But we can’t ignore the bigger picture here. This project is too important for the family’s future.”

Baste’s jaw tightened. “The bigger picture? Santi, you’re not seeing it. The reef, the sea, the land—they’re not resources we can just exploit for profit. We can’t just slap a few green spaces around the resort and call it ‘eco-friendly.’ You know that’s not how it works.”

Sal cleared his throat and looked up from his tablet. “Baste, you’re missing the point. We’re not trying to destroy anything. We’re working with experts to make sure this is as sustainable as possible. We’re trying to find a balance between development and conservation.”

“Balance?” Baste repeated, his voice rising. “You can’t balance development and conservation if the very land you’re building on is being destroyed. You’re talking about bulldozing over coral reefs, over marine life that’s irreplaceable. How is that ‘sustainable’?”

Santi’s expression hardened. “You think we don’t care about Palawan? That we’re just throwing money at this without thinking it through?”

“I didn’t say that,” Baste replied quickly, though his frustration was evident. “But you’re not listening to what’s at stake. These are living ecosystems, Santi, not just land to build on.”

Santi leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. “And I’m saying that we have to think about the future. The future of the family, of this business, and of Palawan itself. You can’t hold onto the past forever, Baste. We need to evolve, or we’ll be left behind.”

Sandro, who had been silent up until now, sat forward, his eyes glinting with a mixture of mischief and challenge. “Maybe you should think about working with the people who are actually making this happen instead of trying to tear it down from the sidelines.”

Baste turned to face him, his eyes flashing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Sandro said with a smirk, “you’re too focused on what you want to see happen that you’re not even willing to listen to the people who are in charge of making this project work. You’re not the only one who cares about this place, Baste.”

Baste gritted his teeth, feeling the anger bubble up inside him. “I’m not saying I’m the only one. But you don’t understand what’s really at risk here. If we don’t do this right—if we don’t take every precaution—then Palawan’s ecosystem could be gone before any of us even realize it.”

Samuel, always the peacemaker, interjected before things could escalate further. “Enough, guys,” he said, his calm voice cutting through the tension. “We all care about Palawan. No one’s questioning that. But Baste has a point. We have to find a way to balance progress and preservation.”

Santi nodded, but his face remained unreadable. “Samuel’s right. We need to hear him out. But Baste, we need you to understand that there’s a reason we’re doing this. This project isn’t just about profit—it’s about the future of this family. It’s about securing our legacy.”

Baste felt his shoulders slump as he looked around at his brothers. They weren’t wrong. He knew that the family business had to evolve, but the idea of sacrificing the very land he loved for the sake of expansion felt wrong. The reefs, the coral, the fish—they weren’t just part of the environment. They were part of who he was.

“I understand the need for growth,” Baste said quietly, his voice strained. “But I can’t sit idly by while this project destroys the place I’ve spent my life protecting.”

“I’m not asking you to sit idly by,” Santi replied, his tone softer now. “I’m asking you to find a way to make this work. We need your expertise, Baste. You’re the one who knows the science, the facts. But you can’t just oppose everything without offering a solution.”

Baste took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing thoughts. He knew his brothers were right in some ways. The family needed him—needed his expertise, his passion—but he couldn’t compromise on his values.

“I’ll do my best,” Baste said finally, his voice resolute. “But I need to know that we’re not just ticking boxes to make this look good on paper. We need real change. We need to put the environment first.”

Santi’s eyes softened. “I’m with you on that, Baste. Let’s figure this out together.”

Baste nodded, feeling a little lighter. He didn’t know if they could find a solution, but for the first time in a long while, he felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, they could strike that delicate balance between family legacy and environmental preservation.