There are hundreds of millions of stars in our galaxy. It's not the largest galaxy human scientists have observed, and there are black holes in the far corner of the universe that are speculated to be the remains of super-sized galaxies that could engulf ours without significantly changing their composition. Nevertheless, our galaxy is big enough that a single revolution of a star on the outer edge takes two and a half million years. That's a lot of space, and a lot of stars to fill it. Most of that space is incredibly inhospitable to life as we know it since life as we know it requires liquid water and liquid water can only exist within a very narrow range of temperature, cosmically speaking of course. That means liquid water – and therefore life – can only exist in temperate zones around stars or gas giants. Hotter, brighter stars have a much smaller temperate zone since the closer you get to the star the quicker the temperature rises and the closer water gets to becoming a gas. Darker, cooler stars also have a small temperate zone much closer to their surfaces but most of the space around them is too cold for water to exist as anything but ice. That means the life most commonly exists around stars of medium light and heat, thus having the widest temperate zones around them. But this most commonly happens around planets orbiting those stars within that temperate zone, and those are fairly rare. Not every star has planets. Not every planet orbits within the temperate zone of the star. So star systems with planets where life can flourish are relatively far between, but remember that we're talking about hundreds of millions of stars. Even one in a million means hundreds of potentially habitable star systems.
On a very rare occasion the celestial body isn't a planet at all, but a moon. Gas giants don't give off nearly as much heat as a star but if the moon is stable enough and orbiting close enough then it could inhabit a zone temperate enough for liquid water. The Xiurong system had one such moon and humans had been living there for thousands of years. The gas giant, called Zufu, was massive as far as humans measure things and was constantly pulling in debris as it maintained a leisurely two-hundred year orbit around its parent star. There were a number of asteroid fields distantly orbiting the gas giant independently and they could make approaching the moon challenging, and that was before you included the twenty-seven other smaller moons that spun around the giant like errant toddlers. I had to keep a sharp eye on my instruments as I navigated those hazards, and I have to admit that I enjoyed the simple pleasure of flying. It reminded me of my early days as a shuttle pilot on Rekan. Nevertheless, I admit to a sigh of relief once I finally established low orbit around Xiurong and awaited clearance to land.
My relief quickly turned to anxiety as I contemplated meeting with my parents for the first time in years.
"Boss, I haven't seen you crack your knuckles like that in a long time," the computer observed.
"You're the expert on human nature," I retorted. "You should know well enough how family can provoke a regression in behavior."
"Your parents are wonderful people," it reminded me. "They're going to be thrilled to see you. Especially when you finally confirm that you're behind their mysterious windfall retirement."
I snorted gently. "You know how proud Father can be. I bet you he insists that they can live just fine without my assistance."
"He was already thinking about retirement when he was helping you salvage my systems. I don't think he'll put up too much of a fight."
I scowled. "How do you know that? You weren't super-boosted back then. Sure, you had your special programming but you weren't a mind-reader back then."
"I don't read minds, Boss. I extrapolate data from body language, tone and word choice as well as inflection. I might not have been boosted back then but I still have the data records and when I review them I can apply my analysis to them. My analysis suggests he was feeling tired and ready to give up his business."
The computer wisely didn't continue its analysis, that Father had wanted to pass the store on to me after he retired. But then again, it didn't have to. I hadn't wanted to stick around Rekan and be a shop owner, I had wanted to fly most of all. Traveling and seeing as much of the galaxy as I could was a nice perk, but flying was my first love and I will always crave it. I could never be content stuck down the gravity well of any world no matter how beautiful or comfortable. None of the Takenoshita children had wanted to stay home, but Father is very traditional. He hadn't wanted just any of his children to inherit the store, he'd wanted his only male child to do it. Me. He tried to hide his disappointment, but I knew it.
"I still think you're worried for nothing," the computer chided. "Family is everything to him. No matter what he'll be happy to see you again. So will your mother."
I still couldn't help feeling guilty about waiting so long to contact them. I'd tried to drum up the courage to at least write to them a thousand times but somehow I just couldn't do it. Especially after Mika. I still didn't know how I was going to explain that to them. How would they react to learning I had been there, that I could have knocked her out and dragged her onto my ship to save her life while the Tharl were slaughtering the rest of the fleet in the system? I couldn't imagine them forgiving me for that. I couldn't forgive myself.
I eyed the primary screen displaying our position and keyed the comms. "Xiurong Port Control, this is the Roger Waters on standard approach requesting clearance to land."
A minute passed, then five. I busied myself with routine ship operations, remembering that isolated worlds don't monitor for incoming traffic all that closely. Long range scans were complicated by the asteroid fields but there were no active energy signature indicating there were any ships besides mine. I appeared to have the sky to myself, and I found this an oddly comfortable feeling. It had been a long time since I'd been anywhere really isolated.
After twenty minutes or so I figured it was going to be a while before the folks responsible for monitoring traffic would get around to noticing me so I set my broadcast on repeat at five minute intervals and went to make myself a snack. I could afford to hang out in orbit for a while. My parents would still be there in an hour or two.
I was mixing something frothy that counted as both beverage and snack when I heard the chime of the comms channel being piped to my location. "Port Control is responding, Boss."
"Put 'em through," I replied before sipping at my mug.
"Roger Waters, this is Xiurong Port Control acknowledging your signal. We have you on our scopes."
Their use of language was slightly archaic to my ear but the meaning of their words were clear enough. "Thank you, Control," I replied pleasantly as I hunted for a lid for the mug. "I request clearance for landing."
"Acknowledged, Roger Waters. Clearance granted, landing vectors will follow. Please be advised as an unscheduled flight you may be subject to customs inspection."
I rolled my eyes, safe in the knowledge that there was no visual feed to transmit my expression back to them. They'd seen I was flying an Ophid and decided I must be a smuggler. The iron being that it wasn't that long ago when they would have been correct, but at the moment my hold was empty. It was a violation of the first rule of trading: never fly empty if you can help it. Only I wasn't a Trader any longer. The thought made my chest tighten unexpectedly. When did being a Trader become so important to me? I had no idea.
"Understood, Control. My ship will be available for customs authorities at your discretion."
"Thank you, Roger Waters. Port Control clear."
There was only a brief pause before the computer came back. "Landing vectors received and confirmed, Boss. They've assigned us to a small bay on the southeastern side. You won't have a long walk to the hub."
"Thanks," I replied after taking another sip. The beverage was soothing enough that I was tempted to just stand there and savor it for a while. I recognized I was feeling the temptation to procrastinate and chose to be decisive instead. "Plug in the vectors and stand by for descent. I'm on my way."
I drank as I walked and made my way back to the cockpit and strapped in. As I went through my systems check the computer remarked, "Boss, it might interest you to learn that we're not the only Ophid in the system.
I blinked slowly. That news came straight out of the blue. "We're not alone?"
"There's nobody else in the sky, but there is another ship in port that matches our configuration. Port records indicate she's registered as the Shining Dawn out of the Kama system. Private owner, also here on personal business rather than professional."
I smirked. "You hacked into their systems already."
"I have," the computer admitted. "It seems prudent to be aware of conditions on the ground."
"Where in the galaxy is the Kama system? I've never heard of it."
"It's another backwater world, primary industry is agriculture. Fairly low tech but with high traffic like Ansalon. They don't offer anything remarkable on the public record."
"So they're probably not Federation," I mused. "What about the Naridi Consortium?"
"Working," the computer said. There was a significant pause. "Deep search isn't bringing up any associations, but I'm not directly connected to any Federation databases at present. Since Xiurong seceded to join the Republic they've disconnected from official Federation channels like everyone else. There's no indication the Federation has paid them much attention since they don't import or export much; I'm guessing they have bigger fish to fry."
"For now, I suppose." I mused over the information briefly but elected against paranoia or panic. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. "I suppose it explains why they feel a customs inspection is warranted. One Ophid in the system is unusual enough but two would look suspicious."
"Agreed. They have plenty of open berths but they parked us on the opposite side of the complex."
I put it out of my mind as I performed the very simple task of landing as instructed in the bay assigned to me. It took no more than twenty minutes total, whereupon I straightened out my shirt and put on my most innocuous smile in preparation for the local authorities to check my credentials and sweep my ship to verify there was no contraband. If they really were expecting any, they were sorely disappointed.
My time in the terminal hub was mercifully brief as I had nothing to declare and wasn't here for business. The fellow behind the counter seemed slightly disappointed, as if I had offered a brief opportunity for excitement or at least a change of routine, but the paperwork was filled out quickly and processed much faster than I had come to expect from a sleepy backwater world. Unlike many human worlds I'd visited they still seemed to have a handle on how to maintain their technology, even if the fundamentals hadn't changed in thousands of years. It worked and that's all they cared about.
Once outside in the city proper I hailed a cab and gave her my parents' address before asking her to swing by a floral shop on the way. It wouldn't do to greet my mother empty-handed. She'd raised me better than that, or so I hoped.
The neighborhood where my parents had relocated wasn't all that different from the home where I'd grown up, an important factor in my search for a place to relocate them. Xiurong was out of the way but not primitive, largely agricultural with a good technological base and a reputation for an easy-going culture. It was mostly self-sufficient which I felt was important, because if my parents needed anything I wanted it easily available. As I stepped out of the cab I noticed the gas giant Zufu beginning to creep over the horizon and was briefly struck by how beautiful it was. This moon was a hidden gem among human worlds and I began to realize I'd picked better than I'd previously realized. This was a world I could happily retire on when my wanderlust finally gave way to old age.
The house was moderately sized, roughly a hundred and twenty square meters which was big enough for most couples to be comfortable but not so large that they couldn't fill the space with their own furniture and knickknacks. It was in a suburban subdivision generously stocked with trees and bushes whose origins I couldn't identify; they were pleasant enough to look at but utterly unfamiliar to me. The houses were spaced far enough apart to not feel crowded while still feeling like you had neighbors close by. Rekan wasn't an overpopulated world but people did tend to live fairly close together for some reason. I'd always thought that my home should have room to stretch out in if I so desired, or ever cared to settle in one.
I hefted the bouquet of pleasant-smelling blue and yellow blossoms before I made my way up the walk to the front door. I was surprised when it opened as I was raising my hand to knock.
"Oh! You are alive!" The diminutive form of my mother radiated nothing but happiness, her face beaming as she opened the outer door and practically tackled me in an aggressive embrace. As a tiny slip of a woman she was in no danger of knocking me off my feet, but her enthusiasm startled me. I had been braced for a much chillier welcome. I was almost embarrassed to note how relieved I felt. After a moment she gave me a reprieve just long enough to turn her head back toward the house and bellow, "Hiro! Come welcome your son, back from the grave!" Then she resumed her attempt to squeeze me like a ripe fruit.
My equally diminutive father appeared at the door, hands passively at his sides and taking in the sight of me standing helpless under my mother's affectionate assault. "Hideo," he said after a pause. "I'm pleased to see that the report of your death was mistaken."
"I apologize, Father," I said meekly. "I couldn't explain anything in the letter I sent you. It's a long story, and I'd rather not do it in public."
"Of course," Father said quickly. "Jae-chan, let the boy breathe. Everyone come in side and we'll continue this like civilized people."
I didn't think it possible but my mother gave me an extra squeeze before she finally let me go. "Of course, quite right. Come in, boy. I'll make tea, and I think we have some biscuits that you'll like."
"Thank you, Mother."
Entering the house gave me an odd sensation; there was an ethereal quality to my perceptions as though none of it was completely real but instead I was walking through a dream. Most of the decorations and trinkets were familiar to me, artifacts of my youth that I could have described with my eyes closed. There was the tarnished copper statue of the Buddha that I'd knocked over early in my youth, still with the slight dent on the belly. There was the life-sized painting of an elegant woman in traditional ethnic dress carrying a stiff umbrella and made up so heavily her skin was pure white but her lips were a shocking red. Things were in different places and I didn't recognize everything, but the connection to my childhood was so strong it was almost overwhelming. My father led me to the common room and invited me to sit on the comfortable couch by the table. I sat carefully lest my spinning head cause me to lose my balance.
Father, ever the gracious host, engaged me in polite but meaningless conversation while we waited on my mother. I learned the Sato family that lived next door as I was growing up had shocked the neighborhood by engaging in a non-traditional marriage. Yuna, whom I had played with at school, had joined a group marriage with four husbands and three wives, making her the fourth wife. The neighborhood had buzzed for months with speculation about how the nuptials had been performed. Mother had run three campaigns for regional executive and won on the third try. Her administration had been fiercely opposed by local progressives and she'd used every connection she'd ever made as a legislative council member to forge compromises with them. The family had adopted a kitten and puppy together for a while but after they'd grown the cat had managed to slip out and disappear, never again to be found. Heartbroken, Mother had been unable to look at the dog without thinking of the cat and so had given it to another family to adopt. Father sternly advised me that should they attempt to adopt another pet he would ensure that it had a tracking chip this time to avoid a repeat of that tragedy.
"There is something else," he continued slowly. "A surprise. We weren't expecting to be able to show it to you, but today seems to be the day for unexpected events."
"What surprise?" I asked.
"In due time," he replied cryptically. He refused to be pressed further on the matter so I let it drop. He didn't ask about my life after my last letter and I recognized he was waiting for Mother to return laden with snacks so I didn't volunteer anything yet.
In good time Mother entered the room bearing a tray with a steaming pot of tea and four matching cups. Following her was a taller woman bearing a tray with the promised biscuits along with an assortment of fruits and vegetables. I stood respectfully as they entered, then looked closer at the very attractive young woman. It slowly dawned on me that she was my sister Jeran.
"What?" I said quietly. I started to sway as the shock overwhelmed me and Father rushed to guide me back to my seat.
"Take it easy, boy," he said with paternal tenderness. "It's really Jeran. She appeared shortly after we settled here."
"How?" I asked. There were so many questions connected to that one word but I couldn't find a way to voice them all simultaneously. "How?" I repeated.
"We have the same question for you," Jeran remarked smartly. Her personality hadn't changed much since I'd seen her last. "You're supposed to be dead, little brother. I was just missing."
"That's enough, you two," Mother scolded as she set down her tray on the center table. She took the pot by the handle and began to pour into the little cups. "You can both tell your stories in a moment. First, let us enjoy having our family back together."
I opened my mouth to dispute this, to point out that Mika wasn't here to join us; couldn't join us because she was actually dead and I'd been there when it happened. But I couldn't say it so I closed my mouth again. Mother nodded in approval, blissfully unaware of what I'd been wanting to say.
"That's right. Hush now and drink."
We sat in communal silence as we obeyed, drinking our tea in small, polite sips until our cups were empty. It was the traditional blend that Mother always served to family, another reminder of home that soothed me in ways I couldn't begin to describe.
"Good," Father declared after setting his empty cup back on the tray. Mother moved to pour again and he stopped her with a shake of his head. "Now, let's begin with this house. From the letter we received that we now know you sent, it seems clear that you arranged for our retirement, Hideo?"
I nodded, still feeling shaky but nevertheless fortified by the tea. "I had a rough start for a while, but eventually I was lucky enough to find an opportunity that made me rich. The Federation took most of it when they arrested me but they couldn't get all of it. I still have more incoming and as my letter said I've established a fund that will keep you comfortable as long as you wish. You will have nothing to worry about for the rest of your lives."
Jeran had a speculative look on her face and I wondered what was going through her mind. But most of all I wanted to know where she'd been, probably as much as she wanted to know about me. Father's expression was inscrutable but Mother frowned in worry.
"Hideo, why were you arrested? What did you do?"
"Jae," Father said.
"No, Father. It's a fair question. The short answer is that I rescued slaves from a Tharl raider, but I had no way to keep them alive except by putting them in stasis. The Federation drew the conclusion that they were my slaves and arrested me on the spot."
Jeran's eyebrows very nearly levitated off her face. "How did you rescue slaves from a Tharl?"
I shook my head. "I'm sorry, I can't explain that. It's a state secret for the Republic. The short version of the story is that I got tangled up in a Tharl raid in a Federation system and in the aftermath my sensors detected the raider's cargo was composed of living people. Ron – my friend – could have taken them on his ship but...it had been destroyed in the fight." My face flushed horribly as I told this incredibly abbreviated and not entirely truthful version of events but I wasn't ready to come clean about everything just yet. "No one would listen to me when I tried to explain, they just marched me onto a prison transport and shipped me off to Orion."
"Why would they do that?" Mother demanded.
"Because they had suspected me of smuggling before that, and ties to a powerful criminal organization. That's partially true, I had been forced to smuggle for a crime ring for a while but it wasn't entirely by choice. I was almost out of fuel and credits when I was approached and by the time I realized who I was doing business with it was too late."
"Hideo! How could you?" The despair in her voice made me cringe. No one can make me feel guilty like my mother.
"Jae," Father intervened. "We weren't there. We don't know what he had to do to survive."
"I know I made mistakes," I admitted. "I regret the smuggling, I regret getting involved with those crooks and I regret that whole period of time. But I was able to get away from them and I went straight after that. I learned how to kill Tharl to...to…."
I couldn't finish the thought. I couldn't say my sister's name. Consequently an uncomfortable silence fell over the room. I became painfully aware of a ticking noise I didn't recognize and I saw an antique clock with analog numbers sitting on the wall.
"It's not entirely Hideo's fault," Jeran said suddenly, and everyone's attention snapped toward her. She gave us a half-apologetic shrug before continuing. "I know about those people, or at least people like them. When you're desperate and out of options, they show up and throw you a life line. They become your best friend and offer you things beyond your wildest dreams. It's easy to get caught up in it because they don't reveal the trap until it's already closed."
"And how do you know that?" Mother asked in a low, dangerous tone.
"Because I got caught in similar circumstances. I had trouble making it on my own too, and people very much like what Hideo describe approached me and offered to get me out of a bind. I didn't see that I had any choice and I accepted. It took me a while before I understood what I'd gotten into, and longer to get out. After I did I thought I should come home." Jeran held her head high as she talked. She didn't look ashamed or embarrassed, she spoke matter-of-factly. The set of her jaw made me feel like she was almost daring us to judge her, but of course that was the last thing I was going to do after my own confession.
"You've been working for criminals all these years, and you've just now gotten away from them?" Father asked carefully. "Do they know that you've left? Will they come looking for you?"
"Yes, Father," Jeran replied evenly. "They know I've left and they've agreed to leave me alone. They won't cause trouble for any of us."
Mother was not finished with me, though. "Hideo, where did the money for this place come from?"
"Salvage and royalties," I said, choosing my words with care. "I told you I learned how to kill Tharl. Once I got lucky enough to cripple one of their raiders before they could self-destruct. I was in Tharl space at the time and it turns out that they're capitalists to the bone. They're also very, very secretive about their technology. When I claimed the raider and its contents as salvage they insisted on buying it from me and filled my hold with high grade platinum. I realized if I could keep doing that then I could become rich enough to buy my own solar system. I found some other people to help me work out a strategy to disable Tharl ships without destroying them, and it worked. I got extremely rich."
"Until the government took it away from you," Father nodded.
"Like I said, most of it," I acknowledged. "I still get royalties from the new Republic based on what I learned about the Tharl and it's enough for all this as well as to keep me flying."
"So this home wasn't bought with blood money from criminals?" Mother asked.
"No, I never made that much with them. This is all based on the work I did after."
"How did you get involved with the Republic?" Father asked.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "Once I managed to get out of Tharl space the first time I met a guy who knew how to fix equipment on a world where they couldn't do it themselves. We talked for a bit and he invited me to visit his station. I didn't learn he was part of the separatist movement until much later. But he pays well for what I have to sell."
"What do you sell?" Jeran cut in.
I shook my head. "I don't think I can talk about that. The Republic considers it classified, and I don't think I should say more than that."
"So you're involved with the Republic government?"
I shook my head quickly. "Not like that, I'm not working for them. I work with them sometimes, but it's a purely business relationship. They've offered me some opportunities to be part of their government but I'm not interested. I just want to fly, and I can't do that piloting a desk somewhere."
"So the Republic didn't arrange this?" Mother asked.
"No, they had no part in this, other than approving your immigration. I admit I asked for some help getting that taken care of, but it was all above board."
"So when the Federation sends a fleet to punish Mother and Father for treason along with everyone else on this world, you'll be here with your classified information to stop them?" Jeran asked archly.
I scowled at her for the first time. "If it comes to that, then yes."
"And you think you can stop an entire Federation fleet by yourself?"
"I won't have to. The Republic is working up their own fleets, and they've already repelled a lot of attempts to force Republic worlds to return. This system is small enough that it's unlikely the Federation will treat it as a top priority, and it won't be long before the Republic will have more than enough ships to stop them no matter where they show up."
Mother gasped in surprise. "They have? We didn't hear about that!"
I smirked. "I'm not surprised. But I was there at one of them and the Republic took a lot of Federation warships as prizes. It's not the kind of thing I expect the Federation to want to talk about."
"How did they do that?" Jeran asked quickly.
I shook my head again. "I already told you, I can't talk about that."
"But you do know how they did it."
"Jeran, for the last time, even if I did know I couldn't talk about it. I'm sorry, I can't give you any more than that."
"Hideo, why did you join the separatists?" Father asked quietly.
I reached for my tea before I remembered I'd already finished it. I looked up at my family and saw they were waiting patiently for me to answer. They seemed content to let me consider my answer so I used the opportunity to pour myself more tea. Mother stirred as if recognizing her duty to refresh my cup a little too late, but I didn't give her the chance to pour it for me. I sipped carefully before putting it down again.
"The Federation tried to kill me. They arrested me for slavery and smuggling and didn't give me a chance to explain or even defend myself. The public defender I was assigned insisted I had to try to plea bargain for something I didn't do, and when I was able to engage new counsel they rushed to trial before she could finish preparing her defence. I was sentenced to death and placed in a disintegration chamber. I remember it starting and feeling my skin start to burn, but then I was flushed out before it completed. I was picked up by agents of the Republic who helped engineer my escape.
"Officially, I'm dead in the Federation. Arrested and convicted for capital crimes, my assets seized and forfeited. I can't fly as myself any more so the best place for me to be is in the Republic. I brought you here in part so you could retire comfortably, like you deserve, and in part so I could see you again. It's been so long and I've been so afraid…."
"Hideo, you're our son!" Mother immediately stood up and held me. "No matter what, we love you."
"Your mother is right, Hideo," Father agreed. "But we do have a right to know what you're getting us involved with. If the Federation is still hunting you, or that criminal organization you got involved with, then you put us at risk by bringing us here. I accepted this because we were told you were dead. If I'd known you were still alive I would have waited before committing us to this."
"You're safe, I swear you're safe," I insisted. "The Federation doesn't know I'm still alive. No one there knows I was rescued, and they think my ship is still impounded."
"Your ship is here with you now? The Gilmour?" Jeran asked.
"Yes, under the name Roger Waters. But that's not the point. The point is...I failed." I took a deep sigh, then fumbled for my teacup while Mother continued to stroke my hair. "I was there when Mika died."
"What do you mean?" Mother asked.
I sat back in my chair and gathered my courage. "My ship misjumped. I ended up in the middle of interstellar space with no way to jump again. The closest star was a neutron star that would have cooked me and the Gilmour before we got close enough to jump, but it was the only option. I rigged the stasis field in my cargo hold to suspend me until we were close enough to attempt the jump, and it was close. I ended up in Tharl space where I was picked up by the Brisbane tasked with blockading that system. I was heavily irradiated along with the rest of my ship and spent months in recovery, longer fixing up the Gilmour. They probably wouldn't have bothered if Mika hadn't recognized my ship and convinced them to bring me aboard. Then the Tharl attacked and I had to escape. I tried to convince her to come with me, to get away before the fleet was destroyed but she wouldn't do it. She stayed, and I didn't save her."
"Did you know how to beat the Tharl then?" Father asked.
"No, not then. That came later. But the Federation lost that battle and the Brisbane was reported lost with all hands. As far as I know I'm the last person who saw her alive."
"Hideo, you couldn't have saved her," Mother said.
"I could have tried!" I insisted.
"You said you did try," Jeran pointed out. "She wouldn't let you. That sounds just like her, as stubborn as any of us. She was happy to be in the Navy, so proud of her commission. She worked hard to get there and she didn't let anything stand in her way. You never had a chance to convince her to walk away."
"I could have hit her over the head," I argued. Tears began to stream down my face as I finally confessed my shame. "Stunned her and dragged her aboard the Gilmour before I took off. Instead I ran away as fast as I could and left her to die. I was a coward. I didn't do everything I could have to save her."
"That's nonsense," Father scolded. "Mika was well-trained. You had no chance to beat her in a fight, and if you had tried you'd probably be dead along with her. You did the only thing you could have, Hideo, and you bear no shame for that."
"Would you have blamed yourself in my place, Father?"
"Maybe he would," Mother interrupted. "He probably would have if he'd been there. But he would be wrong just as much as you are now."
"I can't help thinking I should have done more, that I failed because I didn't even try."
"You loved your sister, just as much as we did," Mother continued. "You were the last one of us to see her. Of course you feel guilty. But you're not omnipotent, Hideo. You're not infallible. You can't do everything, and you certainly couldn't stop her from anything she chose to do. None of us could. From what you say you gave her the opportunity to survive and she refused. If you'd done anything more than that you would have dishonored her. We can grieve her loss without regretting who she was."
"I just don't know how you can stand being near me knowing that I let her die."
"Because you didn't, Hideo," Father repeated. "You did everything you reasonably could. You're not why she died."
"Listen to your father, dear," Mother implored. "Stop blaming yourself for things you can't fix."
I took another deep breath and tried to get my grief under control, but I couldn't deny the truth. "I don't know how."
One thing I could always count on was my parents' hospitality. My father was a decent businessman, better than I was if I was being truthful, but he didn't have a vicious bone in his body. He would never dream of gouging his customers or giving them anything less than the best service he could provide. So even if my family had been upset with me or hated me for failing to save Mika, they still put clean sheets on a guest bed and made me comfortable.
I lay in bed with the lights off everywhere, marveling at the strange and yet familiar sensations I took in. The wind on the trees outside my window, the gentle creaking of the structure as it cooled off from the heat of the day, the faint sound of my mother snoring audible even from the opposite side of the house. Far off in the distance I could hear sounds of humanity bustling about even this late as people moved about on business of their own. It was an environment I'd grown up in but I'd become used to the relative quiet of my ship as fans kept the air in circulation and machinery quietly hummed around me. I carefully lifted the wristband off the small table next to my bed and whispered into it, "Computer?"
The computer immediately replied in a similarly hushed tone, "Acknowledged, Boss."
"You heard everything, of course."
"Of course, Boss."
"So, what do you think?"
"You want an analysis of your family's reactions. I predicted that your father would accept you no matter what, and his responses today confirmed that. Your mother was distressed by your confession, but she believes everything she says. Your sister...she doesn't believe you're responsible any more than your parents do."
I caught the hesitation in my computer's speech. Such hesitations are an affectation rather than a glitch or need to stall while marshaling thoughts. "What? What is it?"
"Boss, Jeran is anxious about something. Her reactions were far more excited when talking about the Gilmour or the Republic than when talking about Mika. She may know more than she's letting on."
"You're saying she doesn't care that Mika died?" My voice rose slightly in pitch and I quickly moderated my tone. "She doesn't care that I didn't save her?"
"I didn't say she doesn't care. The stress in her voice patterns confirm she does. It's just that she thinks you know something and she's much more interested in finding out what."
I thought about that. "I told her your new registry."
"Yes, Boss."
"You think she might come by to try to find out?"
"I don't have enough of a profile on Jeran to successfully model her behavior. Your family is composed of complicated personalities. If I were to hazard a guess I'd say it's possible but I don't know how she'll proceed."
"If it were me how would you predict me to proceed?"
"I predict you would come by the ship and try to sneak aboard to investigate."
"Initiate the Q-Ship protocol for inspections. I'll invite her to take a tour."
"Acknowledged. Are you sure, Boss?"
"If she wants to see the ship then let her see the ship. If she wants to know more then she can ask."
"If she does ask, what will you tell her?"
"I don't know. The Republic has good reasons to keep the technology under wraps as long as possible, so I suppose it depends on why she wants to know. I suppose what I tell her will depend on what she asks."
"Fair enough. Good night, Boss."
"Good night, computer."
I set the communicator back on the table and lay back. I imagined I heard something outside my door but it could have been the wind. I told myself not to be paranoid and waited patiently for sleep.
"Welcome to the cockpit, where I spend most of my time while I'm in the air."
Jeran had accepted my invitation to see the ship with casual grace, and we set out in the early afternoon to check in at the port. She made appreciative noises as she walked around the hull that to my imagination suggested a degree of condescension. But she came aboard and walked around with me as I showed her the interior beginning with the cargo hold and continuing to the more sensitive areas.
"How many times have you slept in the command chair?" she asked.
"More than a few," I admitted. "It's a lot more comfortable than it looks. Give it a try."
She gingerly stepped up to the chair and lowered herself into it, twisting and turning experimentally as she swung the chair around. Then she leaned back and allowed the back to recline before closing her eyes.
"Nope," she announced after a few heartbeats. "One night in this and my back would be knotted beyond belief. I'll leave it to you."
I smirked and offered my hand to help her up. "I'm not really keen on anyone but me sitting there, anyway. No one flies my ship but me."
The computer chose that moment to make its entrance. "I think that statement isn't completely accurate, Boss."
I turned toward the screen and gestured. "Jeran, meet my ship's computer."
"Um, hello Computer," she said cautiously.
"Hello, Jeran," the computer said politely. "It's a pleasure to meet another member of the Boss' family."
"Who else do you know?" she asked curiously.
"I met your father while I was being refitted on Rekan, and your mother came by once as well. I also spoke with Mika a few times while we were aboard the Brisbane."
In spite of myself I winced.
"You got to talk to Mika?" Jeran said quietly. "How did she seem to you?"
"She seemed well," the computer replied with its typical honesty. "She presented herself as a very confident young woman."
"Like a woman doing what she loved?"
"That might be a good description for her behavior."
"Are you programmed to observe human behavior?"
"Affirmative. I was programmed to monitor my human crew for long range exploration, which includes watching for aberrant behavior during transit. The Boss has a nasty habit of staring out the window."
I scowled and muttered, "Tattle-tale."
Jeran's eyes went wide as she turned to me. "That's supposed to be dangerous, Hideo. Are you sure you're all right?"
The computer came swiftly to my rescue. "According to the research conducted by Dr. Amal Tahan in 29072 GE the psychological impacts of folded space are largely affected by the parameters of the mind observing it. Specific behavioral tells were cataloged for medical review and programmed into my database. Dr. Tahan observed that some individuals are more resistant to the psychosis brought on by observing folded space than others, and identified seventeen categories of personality ranked from most resistant to least. The Boss' profile is listed as the third most resistant, and to date I have not observed more than minor behavioral tics as a result of his unfortunate habit."
"But you still remind him to stop staring out the window?" Jeran asked with a note of amusement in her voice.
"But I still remind him to stop staring out the window," the computer agreed.
"Well, all right then." She turned to me and smirked. "That's a loyal computer you have there."
I grumbled. "Why is it that whenever I let people into my cockpit they end up talking about me more than with me?"
"Because you're such a scintillating conversationalist, little brother."
I screwed up my face as I considered an appropriate retort, then relaxed and let it go. "Come on, I'll show you the galley. You'll be surprised how nice it is, as well as the common area."
"Your computer said the ship was designed for long range exploration?" she asked as she followed me down the corridor. "If that's true, it makes sense that the living areas are luxurious. The crew was expected to spend months, even years in transit without seeing civilization. They had to have something to help them cope."
"Nothing lasts forever," I quipped. "I had to replace a lot of the furniture before we launched."
"Don't knock creature comforts," she replied. "A good night's sleep makes up for a lot of sins."
I considered how long it took me to be able to sleep through the night after my summary execution and suppressed a shudder. I completed the short trip to the galley and prepared us both hot drinks to show off its culinary capabilities. Then we settled in the common area, me in a lounge chair and her on the couch.
"You've heard a lot of what I've been doing," I said. "Now it's your turn. I assume you've already told your story to Mother and Father."
She shrugged casually. "I fell in with a bad crowd. Loud music, recreational drugs, the whole deal. I got involved with a small group of guys and girls who thought living outside the law was a life of adventure and romance. Every day was a party and every night…." she paused without finishing the thought, and I imagined I understood what she didn't want to say. She sighed and continued. "They sucked me into their life and I ended up spending a lot of time on the run. I was hopping around the core worlds pulling all kinds of cons, chasing one scheme after another."
Unbidden, my eyebrows shot up my forehead. The core worlds were traditionally considered the heart and soul of Federation society and were the most heavily patrolled by Gal-Pol. They had a reputation for low crime and particularly harsh punishments for lawbreakers. Grifters who successfully worked in those areas were legitimate pros. I made what I thought an educated guess. "So you got the attention of a crime syndicate?"
Her lips twisted as my guess hit home. "They call themselves the Naserligan, and claim to be older than the Federation itself. They're...brutal. I never met anyone affiliated with them who seemed to care about anyone's life, even their own. They're into everything, from contraband and prostitution to assassination. I heard one woman bragging about how she'd bought her very own Council member, although she wasn't stupid enough to say who."
I took a sip from my mug to stall as I marshaled my thoughts. Even the Consortium hadn't been that bad, or at least I hadn't been aware of it. There had seemed to be some genuinely good people caught up in their machinations, people who had just wanted to get by like me. Jeran's experience sounded much worse.
"You said you were able to buy your way out."
She nodded. "I was. I don't want to talk about it, but I was able to get my hands on something they wanted very badly, something they couldn't just torture out of me. In exchange they agreed to let me go and leave our family alone. As long as I don't give testimony to Gal-Pol I can live out the rest of my life in peace."
I shook my head. "I can't imagine how you pulled that off. I still have nightmares that one day Eldee is going to knock on my door with a blaster and make an example of me."
She shrugged and kicked off her shoes, tucking her legs underneath her like a cat before taking another drink. "If your organization is anything like mine, that's a real risk. The fact that they haven't found you yet is encouraging but I doubt they'll stop."
"Unless they heard the news that I was officially executed by the Federation and assume the job has already been done for them."
She shook her head. "They'll continue to circulate your description and details just in case the Federation is protecting you in exchange for your testimony. It wouldn't be the first time a bounty hunter found someone who had been officially 'executed' by the courts. Unless you can find a way to square with them you'll spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder."
I shuddered. "At least I have friends, now. Friends who won't stand by while the Consortium acts."
She nodded thoughtfully. "I could use friends like that, too." She raised her hand to forestall my objections. "I know, I know, you can't talk about it. But if there's any way you can put in a word for me, I'd appreciate it."
I nodded. "They've agreed to look out for the whole family, but I can give them your name to see if they've got a place for you. What should I tell them you do? I assume 'professional grifter' is out of the question."
She sneered and stuck her tongue out at me petulantly. "I guess the closest I could describe it is 'human resources.' I helped a lot of people solve problems."
"Let me see what I can do. Obviously I can't make any promises."
"No, but these people did move mountains getting Mother and Father resettled here."
I shook my head. "That was the money I had left moving those mountains. What my friends did was cut through a lot of the red tape. It doesn't help that they're a fairly new government so they're still working out what red tape they should use."
"You spent all your money bringing Mother and Father here? What are you going to do going forward?"
"No, not all of it. I still have some income, and I'm looking for what I can do next. I just...I'm not sure if I'm really cut out as a Trader, even if they're trying to build a trade network from the ground up. An Ophid just isn't a Trader's ship and I don't want to get into smuggling."
"You said you found a way to kill Tharl. What if you joined the Republic's new Navy?"
I shook my head more forcefully this time. "No. I've had enough of fighting. I've seen too many friends die and I don't want any more of it. I need to find something else, something that will let me keep flying but I don't know what. The Gilmour...sorry, the Waters isn't really meant to be an in-system shuttle."
"What about diplomacy?" she asked. "Diplomatic couriers need to be fast, and good armor is a plus. If you've got an inside track with the new government then maybe you could make a living ferrying politicians and other important people between Republic worlds."
I pursed my lips and nodded as I considered this suggestion. "That's actually not bad at all. I'll look into that."
She unfolded her legs and stretched out. "Okay, your command chair is lousy but I could easily take a nap in this thing."
"It's probably by design," I conceded. "This ship was built for a full crew, not a single operator like me."
"Do you think you'd ever consider hiring on a crew? Maybe run the ship more efficiently?"
I shrugged. "It never seemed necessary. Trading isn't as demanding as deep exploration, and the computer has been capable of carrying out the tasks I can't get to when multi-tasking is necessary. I dare say after centuries in service it knows the ship's functions better than I do."
"I've never heard of a ship in service that long. I didn't hear a lot of details on how you came by her."
"She was salvaged from the old shipyards out by the belt. They decommissioned her a long time ago and put her in cold storage. Father gave me a loan to buy her and get her running again. I had a lot of problems in the beginning until I was able to get enough money to get the major systems overhauled."
"Aren't they supposed to wipe the logs and computer core when they decommission military vessels like this?"
I shrugged. "Maybe they cut corners, or maybe the ship was never involved in anything sensitive enough to require it. I don't know. All I know is that the computer still has records on all of the old crew. It tells me about them sometimes during long transits."
"Like what?"
I considered this, thinking through some of the stories I'd heard and bearing in mind the need to be discrete. I reached over to a panel on the wall next to me and paged the comms. "Computer, what was the name of that cook you were telling me about? Rashid or something?"
"Rashida Tlaib," the computer replied immediately. "Crewman Third Class, assigned to galley and hospitality in 17724 GE. Crew conversations suggested that she was a good cook, but when she got bored she tried experimenting with new culinary techniques. On at least three separation occasions she provoked fire suppression measures, once when one of her experiments combusted in a flash fire and twice more when her ingredients literally exploded."
"Oh my stars!" Jeran exclaimed, and burst out laughing. "What happened to her?"
"Because of the mandatory reprimands entered into her permanent record for these events she was never promoted. She finished her tour aboard ship in 19726 GE and rotated off. Captain Omaros wrote a letter of recommendation for her next posting."
"I hope she was more successful after that," she chuckled.
"I do not have a record of Crewman Tlaib's service after she rotated out of the crew roster."
Jeran wrinkled her nose. "Your computer has an odd sense of humor."
I shrugged. "You ever talk to a computer that wasn't terminally literal?"
"No, but I never talked to a computer designed to run a ship of exploration before."
After finishing our beverages I continued the tour, deciding to finish up in the weapons bay.
"Like most ships of her class, she carries two cannon mounts fore and aft and this automated torpedo bay. Torpedoes are hideously expensive so I try not to use them but they've saved my skin too many times not to keep them stocked."
"Automated?" Jeran asked as she ran her fingers over the deceptively small warheads. "I thought Navy ships didn't do much automation."
"This was never meant to be a combat vessel," I reminded her. "The heavy armour was intended to protect the crew from intense radiation from unexpected sources during exploration. The weaponry was in case they met up with a xenophobic alien race and were forced into a confrontation."
"Like the Tharl," she nodded.
I pursed my lips. "Actually, the Tharl aren't really xenophobic. They don't mind other races at all, they just assume they should naturally rule over them."
She frowned at me. "I thought the Tharl always shoot first in any encounter."
"They do, but that's cultural. They do the same among themselves, because their entire structure is based on strength, aggression and dominance. You have to prove yourself at least equal or better to be treated with respect. So any visitor to one of their worlds is immediately challenged to run a gauntlet of any local ships available, even when they're fellow Tharl. When they met us, firing on us was their way of saying, 'hello, welcome to our space.'"
"You're kidding."
"Well, it's not that simple of course but that's the long and the short of it. The Tharl have a very fluid hierarchy based on who can beat whom. If you can destroy or evade their welcome party then once you land you're treated like an honored guest. I found that out the hard way."
"When you learned how to kill their ships," she recalled.
"Exactly."
"What are these?" she asked abruptly. She was running her hand along a cabinet with a half dozen power cores rigged to explode like warheads. Of course, they weren't attached to any torpedoes yet since I intended to keep them strictly as a last resort.
"Something the techs are working on," I said awkwardly. "I don't really understand them myself." That was at least the truth. I don't know if any human really understood how Tharl power cores worked yet.
"May I see?"
I frowned and shook my head. "I don't think that's a good idea. If something goes wrong I don't know if I'd be able to fix it."
"I just want to hold it."
I hesitated. Certainly there could be no harm in that unless she started fiddling with it, and I'd already warned her against that. "Okay." I unlocked the panel and handed her one of the spheres with its narrow grooves. "Don't mess with it," I reminded her.
She nodded and turned the ball around in her hands, peering at it intently. "I've never seen anything like this. What's it do?"
I didn't quite sneer at her. "You're in a torpedo bay. What do you think they're supposed to do?"
She rolled her eyes back at me, returning sarcasm for sarcasm. "Yes, I figured they're meant for weapons, but are they supposed to explode or are they propulsion or something else?"
"They're supposed to replace the standard payload in a torpedo. They're very new."
"Is this how the separatists – the Republic – is fending off the Federation Navy?"
"I suppose so," I lied. "If they are then I shouldn't be showing this to you." That was certainly the truth.
"This doesn't look human. It looks...weird. Did this come from the Tharl?"
I plucked the ball from her hands and put it back where it belonged. "Even if I knew I couldn't tell you."
"Hideo, I'm your sister," she needled. "You should be able to trust me."
"I also spent a lot of time scrupulously fulfilling contracts," I replied. "And I signed a confidentiality agreement with the Republic. What I do know I can't talk about, and what I don't know I shouldn't speculate. If I talk, even with you or Mother and Father then I put this all at risk. Their immigration status could get revoked. So no, I can't talk about it and stop asking."
She sighed and nodded meekly, but I didn't trust it. The computer was right, she was digging for something.
Father, of course, wanted to see the ship. Since he'd loaned me the money to get it in the first place and spent months helping me put it back together, it was only reasonable that he wanted to see how his investment turned out.
"Sure," I agreed easily. "You should have said something before, I would have brought you along for the tour I gave Jeran."
"Yes, but I want to fly in her," he announced.
I blinked. "Father, you hate to fly. You hardly ever left Rekan, even for business trips."
"I supported local businesses," he retorted. "As a small businessman should. We didn't need offworld goods or money."
"You even stuck to ground transport when visiting local businesses on the other side of the continent."
"It was cheaper," he insisted. "I'm a thrifty man."
"Mother," I begged. "Help me out here."
"He's right, Hiro," she said to Father. "You were queasy the whole trip here."
"I'll take something for it. Jae, that ship has been our son's home for years now and I was there when she launched. I want to do this."
"I was there too, dear," she reminded gently.
"Then come with us!" he insisted. "Walk a mile in the boy's shoes, or at least fly in his ship."
That's how all three of them ended up sitting in my common area while I prepared for takeoff. It felt odd going through the preflight checklist but not spinning up the transition engines. I hadn't performed a vertical takeoff in a long time.
"All systems are nominal, Boss," the computer announced. "Port Control has confirmed our flight plan and given us clearance to lift off."
"Maneuvering jets to full power," I said.
"Full power confirmed."
My ship rose gracefully into the air, slowly at first but quickly gaining speed. Once we were a full kilometer in the sky I brought the main engines up from idle to one percent thrust, pushing us forward and up through the clouds. Mindful of the population below I carefully avoided pushing the Waters to speeds that would generate a sonic boom no one would thank me for. At thirty thousand feet I leveled off and hit the comm button.
"All right, folks. We're at cruising altitude above the ground. If anyone wants to join me in the cockpit the view is spectacular."
It didn't take long before my cockpit got crowded as four people jammed into a space designed for three. It was only somewhat offset by the fact that my parents are small people. Mother was beaming at the sight of clouds zipping past us as if we were immersed in a holodrama. Father was looking a little green, but bravely stood his ground. Jeran looked pensive, or so it seemed to me. After giving them a moment to admire the scenery I made the Waters climb again, this time much more rapidly so we were out of the atmosphere in moments. The stark beauty of the unfiltered stars shone on us until they were dimmed by the reflected light from Zufu.
"It's beautiful," Mother breathed. "The green is so vibrant!"
"It's a methane gas giant," Jeran explained. "It absorbs the color red and reflects blue and green."
"Yes, dear." Mother hugged Jeran affectionately but didn't take her eyes off the planet. "We didn't get to see this on our way in. Father was indisposed."
"Jae," he chided weakly. "They don't need to hear about my infirmity."
"It's all right, Father," I said. "Close your eyes a moment, I'm about to change course."
I waited until he squeezed his eyes shut, then engaged my pre-plotted course that would put us in orbit around Zufu. The stars and planet swung sharply around us, then settled down once again as we finished our burn.
"Vector confirmed and locked in," the computer announced. I noticed Mother startle slightly.
"Acknowledged," I replied. "Time to Checkpoint Sierra."
"Checkpoint Sierra in thirty-four minutes and fifty-nine seconds, mark."
"Well, we've got about half an hour before the show." I unbuckled from my seat and stood up to stretch. As I did I noticed Father still had his eyes screwed shut and I touched him gently on the shoulder. "You can open your eyes, now."
He shuddered and opened his eyes again, but he still looked kind of green in spite of the motion sickness drugs he'd taken before liftoff. He swallowed heavily and nodded. "The ride is very nice," he remarked as casually as he could.
"It usually smooths out once we're in vacuum," I pointed out.
"Your stabilizers are much better than mine," Jeran said. "Father's right, your ship flies very well."
"Thank you," the computer said.
"Hiro, why don't you help me prepare some tea for our trip?" Mother suggested.
"No," Father insisted. "I'm fine."
I stood up from my chair and stretched. "You can stay and watch if you want, but there's not much to do for another half hour. I think some tea sounds like a great idea."
"The computer can fly on its own?" Jeran asked innocently.
"It doesn't need to. This is a simple flight vector, nothing fancy. If anything goes wrong we'll be just around the corner."
We made our way to the commons area where Mother promptly took command in preparing a light snack including, of course, tea. She directed Father in finding the necessary components as we all pretended she wasn't just keeping him busy to take his mind off the flight. For his part he played his role gamely, even managing to drink his tea until it was gone although he studiously avoided the biscuits.
"You haven't said anything about your social life, Hideo," Mother said once we were settled. "Have you met anyone?"
Jeran and I simultaneously rolled our eyes.
"That's not fair," I complained. "Jeran is older than me. Why aren't you bugging her?"
"Who says she hasn't?" Jeran shot back at me.
"Don't dodge the question, young man," Mother said firmly. "I'm asking you. You've traveled so much of the galaxy, you can't tell me you haven't met anyone interesting."
Jeran gave me a triumphant sneer and I sighed in defeat.
"No one lately," I admitted. "I've been a little...distracted of late. There was a woman on Selaris but she had a jealous ex and...it ended badly."
"How badly?" Father asked.
"She's fine," I said quickly. "But he became violent. The police got involved. It was...difficult."
"Did that scare you off?" Jeran asked.
I nodded unwillingly. "It did, sort of. She's a really nice lady but...I couldn't stick around after that."
"You can't tell me she's the only nice girl you've met in the galaxy," Mother chided.
"I haven't really gone looking," I protested. "And when you hop between planets with weeks or even months in flight, it's not exactly a recipe for romance."
"Why haven't you hired a crew?" Father asked. "This ship was designed for one."
"I haven't really needed one. And up until recently it wasn't exactly an option, either."
"So you've only dated one woman since you've left home?" Jeran asked incredulously.
"Well...I suppose there was one other, but I'm not sure she counts. She was operating as a slave trader on a Tharl world at the time, so I wasn't really thinking about her in a romantic sense."
"Then why bring her up?"
"She kind of strong-armed me into taking her out to dinner. As a pretext for a business meeting. I got to learn a little more about cuisine on Tharl worlds, or at least that one. Otherwise our relationship was strictly business. Then, later on I learned she was a Federation operative trying to plant a spy in Tharl society and she testified in my trial."
"She ended up stabbing you in the back?"
"I don't know. The whole trial was so bizarre. She tried to serve as a character witness but the prosecution focused on the fact that I was trying to buy a slave without any context for why or what my plans were." This prompted a slew of questions demanding elaboration, so I spent the next twenty minutes explaining myself. I was just coming to the climax of Trillek's tragic end when the computer interrupted.
"Boss, we have a new contact."
I shifted gears quickly. "I'm on my way." I stood and gestured for them to keep their seats. "I don't think it's any cause for alarm, but I've learned to be careful. Please stay here."
Father turned a brighter shade of green and immediately fumbled for the straps in his seat. Mother helped him quietly before turning to her own. Jeran stood up anyway.
"Jeran, please do as I say," I said firmly.
"No way, little brother," she said. "We both know how dangerous space can be. You may be used to flying solo with just your computer, but this time you don't have to. I can help."
"Jeran," I said urgently, but Mother cut me off.
"Let her help, Hideo," she said.
It's not really appropriate for a captain to be overruled by his mother on his own ship, but there I was. Plus, I didn't have time to argue protocol. I grumbled quietly and gestured for my sister to join me. I settled into my chair and she took the navigator's position.
"Have they hailed us?" I asked.
"Negative, Boss," the computer replied. "She's running silent. Without active scans she may not have noticed us."
"How did you see them?" Jeran asked pointedly.
"Nevermind that now," I said. "Bring up the shields to full strength. Get a fix on her, see what IFF she's broadcasting."
"Acknowledged," the computer said.
"Going active," Jeran said as her hands flew over her console. She clearly had some experience with this class of ship.
"Boss, she's a Sundarin-class ship, probably Federation Fifth Fleet. She's not broadcasting IFF."
"Why would Gal-Pol be out here?" Jeran asked.
"I don't know," I said. "Let's find out. Computer, open a channel."
"Channel open."
"To the unknown corvette, this is the Republic ship Roger Waters. You are in Republic territory. Do you require assistance?"
"Are you crazy?" Jeran demanded. "Why are you trying to provoke a Gal-Pol ship?"
"This is my ship," I reminded her. "You can go back and sit with Mom and Dad."
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry," she said quietly. "But still – "
The computer cut her off. "Boss, the corvette is coming alive. They're raising shields and charging weapons."
"Charge ours. We do this like in Biliv."
"Acknowledged."
"What happened in Biliv?" Jeran asked. I just stared at her until she turned around and focused on her console.
"Incoming transmission, Boss."
"Pipe it through."
"Roger Waters, this is the Galactic Police vessel Blue Thunder. Power down your shields and weapons and disengage your engines. Prepare to be boarded."
"Negative, Blue Thunder. This is Republic space, not Federation. You have no authority here."
"The Republic is not recognized. Heave to or you will be fired upon."
"Blue Thunder, your presence here is a violation of Republic sovereign rights. If you fire you will be committing an act of war. Leave Republic space immediately or suffer the consequences."
"What – ?" Jeran started to say but I cut her off with a slash of my hand.
"Prepare to be boarded or to be destroyed. Those are your choices, Roger Waters. This is your final warning."
"Boss, they've cut the connection and begun to maneuver."
"All right, we play it their way. Jeran, I need you to make sure Mom and Dad are secure."
"Hideo, that's a corvette, not a pirate ship! You can't fight them!"
"I beat the Tharl all the time," I replied. "Now go check on our parents." She opened her mouth to protest but I cut her off again. "My ship. Go."
She huffed at me but she went.
"Computer, have they started evasive maneuvers?"
"Negative, Boss."
"Distance to target."
"Estimated two million kilometers."
"Course change incoming. Incremental acceleration to full thrust, let's spare my dad as much as possible. Do you have the specs on this class of ship?"
"Negative, Boss, but I do have specifications on earlier models. Doing it like Biliv means we target the power plant again?"
"That's right. You think you can hit it?"
"The previous three generations had no significant deviations in the placement of the power plant. As we get closer I should be able to distinguish between the main engines and power generation."
"I'll be okay if we're not precise."
I heard Jeran's footsteps coming back down the hall.
"Okay, here's what we're going to do. Simulate a power loss in the primary weapons control grid and temporarily disable our stabilizers. Run it the first time we're hit."
"Acknowledged."
I did my best impression of "worried Hideo" as Jeran returned to her seat and strapped in again. "Time to intercept?"
She tapped at her console. "Twenty-two minutes, fifty-two seconds."
"Now comes the fun part: waiting."
"Hideo, you're accelerating toward them, not away. Can you take them in a stand-up fight?"
"I don't think Dad would appreciate it if I tried," I said. "But my shields are pretty good, and so is my acceleration. No matter how fast they are they can't turn on a dime, and if I can keep the planet between us then we can make it back to Xirong and let their system defences take over. They'll only get one shot against us, and then we're clear."
She turned her chair to face me with a classic expression of bewilderment on her face. "You're telling me you're inviting them to shoot at you?"
"I know my ship. When we're on yours you can call the shots. Now mind your station, please."
Out of the corner of my eye I watched her bring up diagnostics on the ship's defences, and they told her what she was afraid of: this wasn't really built for combat. Now I just needed to work out a way to keep her from seeing anything else.
A few minutes later Mom's voice came over the intercom, startling me. I really wasn't used to having passengers.
"Hideo, your father is getting worse."
Right, there was that problem. Father's anxiety would be skyrocketing right now, adding fuel to the fire.
"Hang on, Mom. I'll have Jeran take him to the medbay."
Jeran favored me with a withering glare.
"It's not appropriate for the captain to leave the bridge right now. You think you can manage a mild sedative?"
She nodded slowly. "That depends on your medical equipment."
"It's up to date. Plug him into the AMDM and have him strap in. The machine should be able to keep him under until we're finished with our maneuvers."
"Or they blow us out of the sky," she grumbled. At my returning glare she sighed and got out of her seat. "All right, I'm going."
Once I was satisfied she was out of earshot I turned back to the computer. "How are you doing with identifying the power plant?"
"I have it, Boss. What's better, I don't need to risk destroying them with a lucky shot. I was able to resolve images on the vessel that more precisely identified its generation. This model has a problem with being overpowered which resulted in occasional power overloads. There's a buffer line that serves as a cut-off in case of a surge. If we hit that we'll take out main power without needing to hit the generator."
An idea struck me. "Is the location obvious?"
"Negative."
"What's your best firing solution?"
"On screen."
I glanced at the numbers and compared them to the graphic representation next to them.
"Prepare a missile firing solution for that quarter of their screens. Synchronize the firing of the rear cannon with a few milliseconds after the missile strike and run another power failure simulation on the sensor array while you're firing the cannon. Think you can manage that?"
"No sweat, Boss."
"Okay, back to play-acting."
"I know all my lines, Boss."
"Yeah, you're a real ham."
Jeran returned once again and buckled herself in. "Mom is staying with Dad while he's on the machine. There's enough crash couches so they should be fine."
"Thanks, Jer." I hit the button for the intercom. "I'm sorry about the wait, but this should be over in a little over seven minutes. There's going to be some turbulence we can't avoid but we'll be clear after that. Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."
"I have faith in you, Hideo," Mom replied. Her voice didn't sound very confident, though. I resisted the temptation to point out there were oral sedatives available in the medicine cabinet.
"Thanks, Mom. See you in a few minutes." I cut the channel and turned back to Jeran. "How do we look now?"
"Like a speedboat racing toward a warship."
"I get it, you're new here. Are they on the same vector?"
"No change. They're playing chicken and know they've got the weight advantage."
"Computer, how's your firing solution coming along?"
"Looking good, Boss."
"We only get one shot so best judgment."
"Acknowledged."
Jeran's eyes went wide. "You're not only accelerating at them but you're planning to shoot at them? You really do have a death wish!"
"They're violating sovereign territory," I reminded her. "We're within our rights to fire in our defence."
"They don't recognize this as sovereign territory!"
"That's a political matter that will have to be worked out by people way above my pay grade. For now Xiurong is not Federation territory and I'm going to defend it. Between the kinetic transference of a missile impact at this velocity and the warhead's rating they'll hear us knocking pretty loudly."
"I'm more worried about when they knock back."
"Thirty seconds to missile launch," the computer announced.
"Hold course," I said unnecessarily. In spite of myself I was still worried. You never know what can go wrong at the worst possible moment. The seconds ticked by with interminable slowness.
"Missile launched," the computer reported. "Initial separation is good."
I felt myself relaxing slightly when the next announcement made me tense up all over again.
"Laser attack, particle beam weapon," the computer announced. Immediately the lights flickered and the ship jolted violently. "Glancing hit on our forward port quarter but it took out a relay. I've lost control of weapons systems."
"Dammit," I muttered. "Can we fire manually?"
"Negative, Boss. You'll have to replace the relays in that section."
"Hideo, shields are down under forty percent! We can't take another hit!"
"They're preoccupied with our missile. They won't shoot again before we're out of range," I assured her.
On cue, the lights flickered again and there was another shudder, far more gentle than the last time. The computer spoke up again. "I'm detecting a cascade failure in our forward relays. Our primary sensor array is offline. Switching to optical."
The computer brought up a purely optical visual on the Gal-Pol ship, and it looked dark.
"What's their status?"
"It's hard to tell, Boss. I'm not seeing visual signs of active emissions and they're not turning to follow us."
"You took them out with a single missile?" Jeran asked. "What kind of missile was it?"
I pointed to her console. "Check for yourself, it was a standard model. Maybe they weren't up to date on their systems maintenance."
"Nobody's that lucky," she protested.
"You want me to turn us around so you can look closer?"
"No!"
"Okay, go tell Mom and Dad we're all going to live while I lock things down here."
She huffed as she unbuckled her belt and started to rise from her chair, then paused mid-motion before sitting back down again. "I wasn't much help in here."
"You were fine," I said quickly.
"No, you really had everything under control. Hideo, I'm sorry I doubted you."
"Like I said before, I know my ship. You don't, but now you know."
She glared at me again. "Just...accept the apology, fathead."
"Right. Sorry. Apology accepted."
"Thank you." This time she completed the movement and swept back out of the cockpit.
I counted to ten before swinging back to the displays. "Bring up the Gal-Pol ship."
The computer's aim had been had been as promised. There was a neat hole that opened on one side and tunneled through to the other, leaving the ship venting atmosphere. Primary systems were dark but backups were coming online to take over critical life support. They were starting to squawk their distress beacon as well. They weren't going anywhere under their own power, and their current trajectory would ultimately place them in a wide elliptical orbit around the star.
"Nice shooting," I said quietly.
"Nicely played, Boss," the computer replied.
"Open a channel to Xiurong Port Control. They'll need to send out a tug for them."
"Acknowledged. Channel open."
Mom and Dad came through relatively unscathed, although I overheard Dad quietly vowing his feet would never leave the ground again. Mom seemed more excited than anything else, and spent hours pumping me for details about the fight, then then other fights I'd had in my adventures. I was a little shocked; I'd never pegged my mother as an adrenaline junkie before.
The crew of the Blue Thunder were understandably shaken, given the way they were taken out with a single shot by a civilian craft. They were the subject of endless news broadcasts around Xiurong and ultimately across the Republic. Diamond and his people played coy with the details on how the warship was disabled, citing only "Republic naval elements operating secretly in the area" and the superiority of Republic naval forces. What I ultimately learned through Diamond (since I had no official standing in the Republic to demand such details) was that the captain of the Blue Thunder wouldn't talk about her orders or what brought them alone to a distant system like Xiurong that had no history of criminal traffic. All she would say was her name, rank and serial number.
Per the standard protocol Diamond put in place the crew was treated well, although they remained prisoners until they could be remanded into Federation custody. They were also made offers to immigrate to the Republic although few expressed any interest in it. They were just ordinary people doing their jobs; the politics of the situation didn't interest most of them. Only a handful ultimately defected, to be watched carefully by the fledgling Republic security forces.
Jeran scoffed when several days later we heard the official report that we had been saved by the Republic navy. "Oh come on," she complained. "It was just you and your amazing ship!"
I shrugged. "You said it yourself, one missile strike wasn't enough to take them out. We must have had help and didn't see them."
"How could we not see them? We were right in the middle of it!"
"We were also focused on the corvette and running high speed maneuvers. I wasn't scanning for cloaked ships; were you?"
She scowled impressively. We both knew she hadn't. "You're saying that we were saved by a mysterious invisible warship that managed to fire without anyone noticing and taking them out with a single shot?"
I refused to allow her to intimidate me. "I'm not saying anything of the kind. I'm just saying we were too preoccupied to see if anyone else was around and apparently so were the Gal-Pol, which is probably how they got suckered."
She sighed and spread her hands wide. "Cards on the table, little brother. You know more than you're saying."
My brow furrowed as I considered my next words. "Cards on the table, big sister. So do you."
Jeran let out a dramatic sigh of exasperation. "Do I, now? You're so smart, so you tell me what I know."
"Your timing coming here wasn't a coincidence. Neither was the appearance of that warship. Were they taking orders from that syndicate you mentioned, the Naserligan or something?"
"Show me yours and I'll show you mine."
I shook my head. "I'm not playing games with you. If you brought them here you endangered all of us, including Mom and Dad. I'll have to move them again, and if I do that I'll make sure trouble can't follow them."
Her eyes widened. "You wouldn't!"
"This is your fault, Jeran. I don't believe they were here by coincidence and they weren't here for me."
"You think they were here for me?"
"You tell me. Could they have been working for your old bosses?"
She bit her lip. "No. I don't know. Maybe. It's the kind of thing they could do. But how do you know they weren't here for you?"
"The people upset with me would have sent a naval squadron, not a cop. I kill Tharl, remember?"
"Maybe…."
I folded my arms and stared her down.
Her expression turned from thoughtfulness to anger. "How do you know they were after me?"
"I didn't say they were. I don't know why they were here, I just know it has something to do with you. You've been asking very pointed questions like you know or suspect something. I was willing to let it slide until you put our whole family in danger."
Her anger swiftly dissipated. "They were probably after me."
"Okay, why?"
"Because I'm your sister, dolt. The Naserligan heard about your problems with the Consortium and thought my connection to you might be useful."
"Useful how?"
"Like maybe you could be enticed to turn on the Consortium, let the Naserligan muscle in on their action."
"I haven't dealt with the Consortium in a long time," I protested.
"That's why I haven't shown up before now. They were going to send me to Kandori to make contact with you when the trouble went down and you disappeared. Then you made a splash at Van Usted but I'd already gotten out. Once I didn't hear from them I assumed they weren't interested in you any longer, but if that corvette really was here on their business…."
"Then you led them right to Mom and Dad."
She shook her head. "They already knew about Mom and Dad. They knew everything about me. Who my family is, what my test scores were, everything. You might move them again so I couldn't find them, but the Naserligan are everywhere. I'm sure they're already making their way into the Republic by now."
"So what are you saying?"
"Either the Federation is after me because they've learned about my past with the Naserligan or the Naserligan are here to get me to connect with you. That's assuming the corvette had anything to do with me at all."
"Are Mom and Dad safe?"
"From the Naserligan, probably. They've been left alone for years. If they're still interested in you then they'll want me to get to you, not them. They don't have history with them like I do."
I sat back and let the wheels spin inside my head. If the Naserligan were involved and were as bad as Jeran painted them then no one was safe; just because they hadn't been interested in Mom and Dad before didn't mean they never would. But what to do about Jeran?
"If you fly with me," I said slowly as I corralled my thoughts. "They'll know you're definitely in close contact, right where they want you. But if we fly separately, maybe make up a fight for people to report on then it'll look like you're not close to achieving success. You can play it off like you're trying to get close to me but I'm not cooperating."
"If I fly with you and they are interested in what you know then I could string them along, feed them just enough good intel to make disinformation believable."
I peered at her curiously. "Why do you want to fly with me?"
She shrugged sheepishly. "You've been doing a lot better for yourself than I have, little brother. I kinda hope some of it will rub off."
"Not that good," I grumbled. I shifted uncomfortably and turned my face away. I didn't like not trusting my sister. I wasn't raised to treat my family like criminals. "We'll see."
"Hideo," she said earnestly. "Please."
Her simple plea was too effective. I could argue with her reasoning all day long but begging for my help? It bypassed all my defenses instantly. I groaned and threw up my hands in defeat. "Let me see what I can do."