Apoapsis
Kappa Centauri
The spaceport officer took off his cap and scratched his head. “Aww shit, what do we do about this? Who do we call?”
His partner dragged him aside, out of view of the landed merchant vessel, and told him to keep quiet.
“They’re moving nuclear weapons in that thing, we’re going to need backup. We’re right next to the CCOR down here, we’ll have enough militia ready to handle this, we just need to get them.”
A burgundy dress uniform stepped out in front of them, hands seated in his pockets, a smug look painted on his face. “You can call backup if you’d like but be sure you get the situation across clearly. You’ve just grounded a vessel owned by the Confederated Councils of the Southern Rim, one armed with nuclear weapons. If anyone makes a bad move, we’re going to start using them.”
The CCOR agent smiled warmly at the two gaping, pale faced officers and swung around, strolling back to his ship. “Don’t think Citadelle doesn’t already have an arsenal of these things ready to go either. Tell your council to consider their next move carefully.”
Men
Hevru extended a paw to one of the elders of Thule. The gesture was not reciprocated, he was not sure whether it was the insular nature of Thule or if it were a sign of disrespect. It was no matter though.
Hevru had come to human space and bought himself a Firebird. He had heard about the growing CCOR crisis and saw an opportunity to be heroic, lift others out of fear. Orin had cautioned him against it but this had brought him to Men to meet with the elders, presenting them with a plan to save their little planet from fear. It was not going well.
“An na little squirrel’s unnap the oncil uh?” The elders wheezed in laughter.
He chittered in reply, holding his composure as best he could. “I know someone in intelligence. Although we have lost track of where the Syndicate’s nuclear program is, I have a lead on an executive who stole a lot of the research. I may be able to bring you your own nuclear program, a deterrent against both the CCOR and Free Worlds.”
“Assif, assif!” They continued wheezing.
Unable to hold his composure much longer (in truth, he was not holding it in the first place, he was vibrating the whole time. He certainly felt like he was hiding it though), he turned and stormed away, returning to his vessel. He found a message from Orin waiting for him.
“They laughed, right? They do that to humans. Not everyone is worth your time, it’s alright. I’ll be back on Midgard soon if you want to meet up.”
Hevru dismissed the message and set a course for Alcyone. Orin had the gall to introduce him to the human classics and still try to dissuade him from heroics, even for the unthankful.
The ship made it as far as Kaus Borealis. Three Leviathans flying merchant colors were waiting in the system. Their lead, the S.S Echetus, opened communications first.
“Wanna hear a joke? How many Unfettered does it take to change a lightbulb? One, they’re pretty intelligent, willing to listen to reason.”
It was sarcastic, the typical inane chatter you would never ask for but always receive from passing shipping captains turned on its head.
How would Orin handle this situation? “Who are you and what do you want with me? Merchants don’t typically run fleets of three heavy warships this far into Republic space.”
“This is Kombat Matthew, that’s a military rank from my country, I don’t think you would know that. I would ask you to explain why you’re traveling today but I can see you’re going to be difficult. You’re planning on forwarding nuclear weapons to Men.”
The line went silent for a moment as if he were waiting for a bewildered response at that.
“Well, anyway, you’re outgunned. If you don’t turn around you are going to die. Nobody’s going to help you either because nuclear proliferation is very not-okay, especially not to an independent system. Why would anyone want to give those toads weapons anyway? Isn’t it bad enough we still have to suffer that they exist?”
Hevru was struggling to hold himself back. “Just because they don’t see any beauty in your way of life doesn’t mean they don’t have a right to survive. Men is certainly a lot more alive than the CCOR.”
Now the Kombat was getting more energetic himself. “You know what a nuclear weapon is? All it is is a symbol. Humanity has already produced weapons of mass destruction far worse than the nuke. The plague from Rasalhague, Alphas, information weapons, or even the planet cracker the Navy used on Zenith not too long ago, a nuke doesn’t compare to any of them in terms of sheer destruction. It lasts forever in human memory though because it is the first weapon of mass destruction, the easiest to produce, the least complex, the one that introduced everyone to death on an industrial scale. It’s not a weapon of destruction, it’s properly a weapon of terror. That’s why disarmament may as well have been a religion, and that’s why the world stood still when the Syndicate undid disarmament.”
“You want to rule through terror?”
There was another momentary pause as if Matthew was gesturing. His voice returned, syrupy as ever. “I’d rather dominate through terror than through bloodshed. If anything nuclear weapons would lose their potency if we actually used them. Aside from that though, why even bother helping Men? They don’t care and even if they had nuclear weapons they’d still submit to whatever higher power came to them. They don’t deserve help. You know if they had the chance, they’d dominate those around them as well through the exact same methods, you know how things go on these high-minded independent worlds.”
“Is the only thing you care about domination? Not people?”
“See all the people who line up to help you now that you’ve risked your life for them, then consider how all societies only function with the aid of fear.”
The two escort Leviathans engaged afterburners, advancing rapidly. There was no way out. Hevru had one last resort.
“Engage the jump drive, take as far away from here as you can as fast as possible!”
The comms crackled to life briefly one last time. “Keep running away, we’ll see if you’re still playing the hero once I catch up to you on Stormhold.”
Hevru looked down over the clouds, the greenish blue sky hung above the clouds like they were solid ground. As the ship slowly descended down through them the cloudcover became a mix of damp mists and thick fogs containing enough unusual materials to block thermal and radiological observation if the Syndicate decided to finally do something about this planet, a natural haven for those who turned against the giant.”
They touched down on a distant forested island, cold and damp, on a sunken landing pad fit for warships. Hevru bounded down the ramp. Like a true Hai he was still excited to meet his pirate hosts despite everything happening. The two guards were Geekish types, not what you would expect from Southern pirates. They were most likely disgruntled Syndicate engineers supported by blue collar workers tired of manufacturing. It was true, different regions had different pirate cultures.
Hevru was lead into an office that looked like it was made by someone who read Treasure Island and saw an exciting new way of life despite having limited knowledge of real world piracy. Everything was mahogany, an array of rums from around Human space lined the walls. Bookshelves were packed with classic works punctuated by management handbooks, self help junk, and about five copies of Sun Tzu’s Art of War. This was the right guy at least.
The retired Syndicate executive sighed theatrically and swung around in his chair, spilling a little of his glass of rum as he slammed it onto the table. “You have no idea how difficult it is to be the savior of mankind.”
“Come again?”
The executive stood up and looked wistfully out his window. “We, the Syndicate, sacrificed everything to prevent the coming Recession.”
One of his guards nodded piously and echoed “Recession.”
“We had the Model. A grand system which accurately predicted the state of the galactic economy down to the dollar on the stock market. It reported a collapse coming, the end of the era of peace and prosperity which the Syndicate built and the Republic and Free Worlds enjoy. A great terror which would lead to suffering across the galaxy, a new dark age.”
“Dark age.”
The executive opened his desk and removed an oversized briefcase, exactly the kind you would see from a Bond movie. Sliding it across the desk (and knocking over his glass of rum) he remarked to Hevru “nuclear secrets. An entire Manhattan project contained in these documents. I’ve ordered my men to load some of the warheads I’ve kept for myself onto your ship as well.”
Hevru opened the case and confirmed, it really was a huge collection of papers, not a single datachit to be found. The executive plunked himself back down and poured himself a fresh glass of rum. Hevru eyed him cautiously.
“Why are you giving me all this?”
The executive stood right back up and began looking out the window wistfully again. “I, rejected by everyone, no longer have need of this. We have put off the coming recession a little longer, the war did its job… for now. Those who did their best to prevent it though, like me, have been forced into hiding though. Heroes are never respected in their time, and sometimes they aren’t respected after either. If you want to do good to this world then more power to you but my time is done.”
Hevru’s chair creaked as he started fidgeting. Was this how he sounded? Was he acting like this guy by playing a hero? Doing something obviously wrong then acting like a victim when he got slapped for it by people who never asked for the help? Why had he come here in the first place? For himself?
Klaxons blared. The executive leaned over his intercom and began barking orders. To his credit, he definitely knew how to organize a compound, he was probably a good manager.
“It’s a Republic fleet, it’s being led by a merchant contractor, a Leviathan.”
For the first time in his life Hevru began to quake. “That’s a CCOR officer, why is the Republic working with him?”
The executive sighed in a genuine way. “Republic Intelligence took over Syndicate nuclear manufacturing. It seems they’ve been propping up the CCOR as a counterbalance to the Free Worlds. I can’t imagine the Navy is happy about this but I doubt they’ll go against parliament anyway.”
Hevru shivered in a mix of terror and rage, no longer sure of himself.
“You can hide out here for a while if you’d like, you make a fine guest. Whatever you’re doing, believe me, it’s not worth getting yourself killed.”
He looked inside himself. Was he forcing himself on others? Just dominating them in the name of heroism, doing what nobody asked for, chasing away some invented future just to feel good about himself?
No. Maybe that was it once, but not now.
Hevru stood up. “That won’t be necessary. Do you have an afterburner here?”
Hevru left the waters behind and rose back up above the clouds, back into the stars. A Navy fleet and the Kombat were waiting for him. Comms came to life.
“It’s alright to be afraid you know, fear preserves your life.”
Hevru took a deep breath and set his transmitter to broadcast.
“You’re right. Fear is good, it’s part of human life. It’s anticipation of evil and it saves you from things that would kill you. I can’t free anyone from fear and it’s an illusion to believe I could.”
“Are you surrendering?”
“No. I’m still going to free Men from terror, I’m going to do it by defanging the evil threatening them. That is what heroism means, to do what’s right for others no matter the cost, out of authentic love. I people and I refuse to let them be terrorized by you any longer.”
“Even if they don’t care about you?”
Hevru pointed forward as if anyone could see it.
“Heroics are freely given, otherwise it wouldn’t be heroism. Your life ends here.”
Hevru’s ship, the Ajax activated full afterburner and charged forward, meeting the enemy’s flagship. The Navy briefly began to engaged but immediately cut boosters and backed off when they saw what had just happened.
The Echetus was barely functional, still able to fly but it had lost all shields and a significant portion of its hull stability. Hevru reactivated the comms.
“You’re right, these things aren’t as strong as I imagined. Your ship is still mostly together after a direct hit to the bow.”
“Don’t kill me. I’m not ready to die. Oh God don’t let this happen to me.”
“The CCOR will be buried and you’ll be buried with it.”
The purple glow of a Hai tracker pod valley did the ship in, and that was the end of Kombat Matthew.
For hours going on days Hevru stood at a standstill against the Navy fleet. They instructed him to surrender and he refused. Terrified of the nuclear weapons the Navy was not willing to make a move and Hevru, knowing that he was truly outgunned even with nuclear weapons, held as well. His only solace were a few pirate ships sent up by the executive, inspired by his valor.
A new fleet entered the system.
“This is Deep Security. We are taking charge of this situation with the authority of Syndicate Internal Security. You may disengage.”
The Republic admiral activated his comms faster than he should have, letting out a deep, relieved sigh before remembering himself.
“I understand however we cannot disengage without taking possession of the nuclear weapons.”
Orin’s voice made a proposal.
“Nobody is to be prosecuted over this incident, we know that was a CCOR officer in Republic space so I don’t think you’ll debate us on that, right? Let us take everyone on that firebird aboard and you can keep the ship. We can all go our separate ways and put a bow on this whole thing.”
The admiral agreed and Hevru came aboard the Argos, briefcase in hand, honored as a hero should be.