“It can’t be treason to love the Empire,” Platus said, as he stood and walked to the polarized observation glass. “The Empire would not survive. This ideology within the Empire is driven by hatred and intolerance, their only stated goal to wipe out the USS. The USS would be fighting for hope and survival . . . we could never win. And to prevent this, I will have to save my beloved Empire and its people from themselves. I’ve made my decision, Quintus. If you haven’t yet, you will have to make it when the time comes. Just ask yourself how you would want father to remember you.”
Quintus raised himself from behind the desk and stood at Platus’ side.
“If you weren’t my brother,” he said. “I wouldn’t know you have something dangerous planned. Out with it now, Platus.”
Platus grunted. “I have information from an agent deep within the USSF that Supreme Commander Shepherd has sent his most trusted advisor on a special mission to Rigel.”
“I’m lost as to how Rigel could be a focal point for any USSF interest at the moment, Platus.”
“Ah, brother, leave the intelligence analysis to me. Rest assured this advisor has been with Shepherd for years. We’ve worked just as long to put someone in place near to her. If she’s going to Rigel, it’s for a very good reason.” Quintus didn’t seem convinced and Platus continued. “The Supreme Commander of the USSF is sending an agent to Rigel on his behalf, it’s worth our effort. You know I cannot launch any operation without my commanding officer’s approval.”
“My brother the nobleman,” Quintus said. “Above all else, I too wish the Empire to flourish. I can promise you I will attempt to engage with the Emperor. Not for a moment do I believe the USS is responsible for the anomalous attacks along the Border Worlds. We need to know exactly who is, and find proof, to bring to the Emperor. You have thirty days until this fleet arrives at Atlas Prime. That’s all the time I can give you. Follow your lead on Rigel if you believe it will get us what we need. Before you leave, I want you to use your . . . talents to set up discreet surveillance on the Lord Praetor while he’s aboard Phalanx.”
Platus laughed. “Now who is being treasonous, brother?”
“Just cautious, Platus.”
Platus nodded. “It will be done,” he said, turning to look directly at Quintus, “but what if the Emperor doesn’t care about the plotting of the Lord Praetor? What will you do?”
Quintus stared in silence for a moment, glimpsing the uninhabited temperate world orbiting the single star.
“Honor above loyalty, Platus. I will not let you or father down.”
Chapter 7 - Santiago
Passenger ship—Santiago
20 years earlier (2455)
Patrick and Anna Rayne joined the other families and crew of the Columbus-class passenger freighter six years ago.
Santiago was nearing the end of a two-week deceleration burn prior to entering Atlas Prime’s orbit. The time aboard the passenger ship was thrilling but Patrick longed to set foot planet side and leave behind the cold hard decks of Santiago. Aaron on the other hand loved space travel and frequently spoke of joining the United Star Systems Fleet. Patrick wasn’t sure he was happy with the idea.
Patrick left the bridge headed for the habitation deck. The ship’s junior flight crew could handle the rest from here. He and the captain deserved a long rest.
Just before he could step up to the hatch to his quarters, Aaron emerged.
“Dad! Nice to see you after so many weeks. Me and mom were beginning to think you enjoyed sleeping on the bridge.” The hug was tight. Not a little boy anymore, he’s a young man and Patrick winced at the strength.
He couldn’t breathe. “Okay okay—enough. You missed me I get it. I missed you too, kiddo,” he tussled the little man’s scruffy head of hair.
It was definitely true your children never grew old in your eyes. You always had that image of them as the young innocent helpless thing which you had to keep safe from a harsh world.
“I’m off to start my shift.”
He was a junior technician now. Studying under the engineering chief.
“Well get going!” Patrick said. “I don’t have much to do for the next few days, I’ll be here waiting.”
“Great. I prepared something for you to eat, might be cold now. Mom’s shift is soon finishing. Buzz her and let her know you’re back.”
Patrick grinned, rubbing his hands together. “Oh no, my boy, I think I’ll surprise her.”
Aaron rolled his eyes at that.
Anna Rayne was the ship’s chief medical officer and a qualified neurosurgeon.
“Well, have it your way. Cya later.” He clapped his father on the back and dashed off out of sight.
Time for that long deserved, deep, uninterrupted eight hours of sleep. He flopped towards the bed in the second room. The pillow felt soft. This would be the best sleep in weeks.
****
Braaaaang! Braaaaang!
Patrick’s eyes shot open. What the hell? For a few seconds he didn’t remember where he was, and then his groggy mind caught up with the present. There’s no doubt, it’s an alarm. Sounds like the more serious kind. The emergency disaster kind. Damn.
He leaped from the bed wiping drool away from the corner of his mouth. Still fully clothed and boots on he sprinted for the hatch. A flurry of bodies ran past in front of him and disappeared around the corridor. Comms! He ran back inside and thrashed around the bed. He found the comm unit which had likely fallen from his tunic pocket as he slept. He fumbled with it as he ran back into the corridor headed for the bridge.
He hadn’t even taken off his hardened duty boots.
“Bridge, this is the XO what in blazes is going on!” He had to shout into the device to hear himself above the alarm.
“Patrick! Thank the stars. Get to engineering now. There’s been an explosion in the fusion containment cells. It’s been partially contained but we’ve got hundreds seriously injured in the affected areas. We’ve got to contain it or we’ll lose the entire ship.”
Lose the entire ship. Those words hung in the air. My son. My wife. Fifty thousand other sons and wives and husbands. What about Aaron, was he near the blast? Is he even alive? Please let him be alive.
He almost forced the lift doors to open. Then he almost broke the control punching it for engineering.
The ride through the ship from the habitat ring to the engineering section dragged on and on. The anxiety only served to cloud his perception of time. It was taking forever.
Beep, the doors chimed before parting to reveal the forward section leading to the engineering section. The smoke was moving through here already. Hazy, difficult to breathe, but he could manage through it until he got to a respirator.
A bloodied young technician, who could be no older than Aaron, stumbled into him. He held onto the young man, who proceeded to yank off a respirator.
“It’s useless,” the technician said. “It’s getting worse. We thought we had it contained,” he went into a coughing fit, mucus and bile coming up and onto Patrick’s shirt. “We thought we had it contained, but it’s over, you can’t go in there!”
Patrick shook the boy. “Where is the Chief?” No answer. “Have you seen my son?” He shook the boy again—harder.