Why did he do it?

I told Raven that it was some self-destructive compulsion for martyrdom, but until those last few minutes Elder Brother seemed like the last person who would have done such a thing. Frankly, he always seemed too arrogant for that. I would have said there wasn’t a magnanimous bone in his body, which made his last moments even more puzzling.

Sure, he was angry at the Masters, the Troika, and the universe. I get that. He wanted vengeance for everything his people had suffered, and I completely understand that impulse as well. Striking back at those he thought were guilty was well within the unofficial psychological profile I’d been compiling on him, based on my observations. Making a point to take himself out, instead of living to fight another day?

That didn’t fit at all.

So if it wasn’t martyrdom, what was it? Fear of reprisal, perhaps? Honestly, that made little sense either. This guy had spent his entire life living under the Sword of Damocles, knowing that one false move meant slow torture and death. Hard to imagine anything scaring him worse than that.

Guilt over his actions, maybe? I highly doubted it. He didn’t strike me as the type who felt guilty about much of anything. He certainly regretted what the Masters had forced him to do in order to survive, but he’d clearly placed the blame squarely at their feet, not his own. I suspect the only thing he truly felt guilty about was not killing more of them.

Once again, I had plenty of questions and no answers.

In the meantime, we had other decisions to make, first on the list being our next destination. There were several options available to us, but there was some rather lively… shall we say, disagreement… on the subject.

“I have to get back to Chris and tell her everything we’ve learned,” I told Raven. “As sensitive as it is, I don’t dare transmit it electronically, even using our most secure encryptions. It’s just too risky.”

“Of course you want to go running back to her,” she sniffed. “What about me? Are you planning on bringing me before her as your latest discovery? Because I’m telling you right now, that is not happening. I know damn well what the outcome of that meeting will be, and I’m not planning on letting you drag me to my execution.” She folded her arms, glaring at me.

I winced at that, as I struggled to come up with a counterargument. “I wasn’t going to do that, I swear,” I told her. “We’ll find a safe house for you, someplace where you won’t pop up on their radar.”

“And then what?” she asked.

“I don’t understand the question,” I said, perplexed. “It’s the smart move, and you know it.”

“That’s not the point,” Raven snapped. “What happens when we return to Allied space, given the prevailing attitude regarding… individuals like me?” She looked me in the eye. “What is my life going to be like?”

“You’ll be protected, I promise,” I vowed. “No one will harm you.” Mentally, I was already running through the various safeguards I’d need to put in place to ensure her safety, but it was a solvable problem. I was certain of that.

Raven shook her head. “You’re still not getting it,” she said with growing indignation. “What is my life going to be like, under those conditions?” she clarified. “Am I to spend eternity under your protection? Your personal concubine, your kept woman, living out my days in a gilded cage?” I started to protest, but she held up her hand, forestalling my arguments. “Don’t bother denying it, because that is exactly what you’re planning, isn’t it? All under the guise of keeping me ‘safe’.” She made quote marks with her fingers while I fought to regroup.

“Only at first,” I demurred, “just til we can figure out something long term.”

“And how long might that be?” she demanded. “A year? Two? Ten? A hundred?”

“I… don’t know,” I stammered. “This is all unfamiliar territory for me. But I promise to give it top priority.”

“That’s what you say now,” she countered, “and I’m sure you mean every word. But when your clan leader has yet another vital mission for you to undertake… and she will, don’t even try pretending otherwise… am I just supposed to wait patiently until you return? Maybe knit you some socks while I’m at it?” She leaned in, focused on me with an intensity I had rarely seen from her. “What if you never return? What happens to me then?”

She looked away, her voice suddenly soft and distant. “A lifetime spent in solitary confinement, with no means of protecting myself. That’s what you’re describing, Alphad. Even if you don’t yet realize it.” She glanced back in my direction. “And no, the occasional conjugal visit doesn’t improve the conditions, despite what you may think.”

Whatever arguments I’d planned on making suddenly died a premature death. What she described wasn’t my intention, not by a long shot, but would almost certainly be the practical result. The only way I could keep her safe was to imprison her and then throw away the key.

Shit.

Closing my eyes, I bowed my head. “I don’t know what to say,” I answered softly. “I don’t know of any other way to protect you.”

“Yes, you do,” she replied, her words now tinged with regret “you just can’t bring yourself to admit it.”

I lifted my head. “I don’t know what you mean,” I said in confusion.

Raven sighed, then reached out to cup my chin. “Let me go,” she whispered.

I goggled at her. “Let you go?” I repeated, my voice rising to a shrill pitch. “Out there? Where you’d be a moving target for anyone with a grudge, or a long memory of the Yīqún? That’s insane!”

“I can take care of myself,” she countered. “Besides, a moving target is a hell of a lot safer than a stationary one. You taught me that.”

I gripped my skull in frustration, staggered by her words. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I all but shouted. “I’ve sheltered you from what’s really out there,” I snarled, outraged and resentful. “You think the Perseus Arm is safe? Especially for the likes of you? Ha! You’ll be hunted at every turn, nowhere will be safe. Living as a wanted fugitive isn’t living, Raven, it’s a goddamn nightmare that never ends.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

My chest was heaving now, the digital adrenaline pumping now within my virtual veins. I could see her readying her rebuttal, digging in her heels while I geared up to drive my point home… when both our focus was yanked away as an alarm began screaming for attention. It took me a moment to mentally shift gears, shaking off the argument as I dove for the console. Within seconds, the readouts told a grim tale.

“There’s something up ahead,” I warned her, reaching for the controls. “A big something,” I amended, studying our options.

“How big?” she asked, sliding in beside me. At least we both managed to put our personal issues aside for the moment and concentrate on not getting killed.

“At this range?” I double-checked the instruments. “Fleet sized at least.” We glanced at one another as our worst suspicions were confirmed. “Changing course now. If we’re lucky, maybe they won’t notice.”

“And if we’re not lucky?” she breathed.

“Then they will notice,” I said through gritted teeth, “with everything that implies.” Reducing speed I altered our trajectory, hoping to sneak past whoever was out there like a frightened mouse hoping to avoid a hungry cat. We both held our breath as the seconds ticked by, our acceleration curve starting to climb as we pulled away. We both watched the scope, nervously awaiting any signal change from the objects in front of us.

Nothing.

I frowned, confused by what I was seeing. “That doesn’t make sense,” I muttered as I tried clearing up the display.

“What doesn’t?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“The ships up ahead,” I clarified. “They’re not moving.”

“Isn’t that what we want?” she insisted.

“Yes, but…” I paused, struggling to grasp what was really bugging me. A moment later, it clicked.

“Raven, whatever’s out there isn’t moving at all,” I emphasized. “They’re just sitting out in the middle of nowhere, and there’s absolutely no reason for it. There’s always some movement, patrols if nothing else. And being honest someone should have noticed us, unless they’re deaf, dumb, and blind.” I shrugged, helpless. “We were just too close before we spotted them.”

“Maybe they’re waiting to ambush someone,” she suggested.

“Out here?” I shook my head. “There is absolutely nothing in this region to draw an enemy in. I can’t even explain what they’re doing here, unless they were simply in transit to somewhere else.” I considered that for a moment before tapping the controls, altering course.

“What are you doing?” she said in horror, gaping at the screen. “Are you insane?”

“I just want to get a closer look,” I told her. “First sign of trouble and we’re out of here, I swear.”

“... and you think I’m taking a risk,” she grumbled, as we tiptoed our way back towards the fleet.

It took time; over an hour, in fact, as we reversed course and moved in to investigate. I kept the shuttle’s velocity low, creeping up on whoever was out there, full power at the ready in a moment’s notice if they reacted.

No one did.

We inched closer, the shuttle now moving at a crawl as we neared visual range. At this distance I expected the images to have firmed up by now, but many of them were still fuzzy and indistinct. Everything about the situation was just plain wrong, giving me a gut-wrenching sensation of foreboding. Part of me wanted to take Raven’s advice and go, just leave the mystery in our wake and let someone else worry about the details. It certainly would have been the smart move, by any standard.

But that little voice in the back of my head was shouting at me now, telling me that whatever was happening here, my clan would need to know… if for no other reason than to prepare for what might be coming. I don’t know why I thought that, at the moment all I had was some funny readings on the sensors, but I’ve learned over the years to trust my gut. It’s rarely steered me wrong.

I shut down the engines on the last leg and coasted in on pure momentum, lowering our already meager signature to something minuscule. It was slow going, though time I had in abundance... but what I didn’t have was answers. I had to know.

Raven’s nerves were taut as a guitar string as she watched the monitor beside me, certain we were headed for our doom, with every moment of silence ratcheting up her anxiety levels to even greater heights. I felt it as well, but then this wasn’t my first rodeo. I pushed the fear aside and focused on my task instead. Finally, after several tense hours, the fleet was in sight.

What we found was a graveyard.

I brought the engines back online as I nudged the shuttle forward, while Raven and I stared at the massive ships in shocked silence. It was the remains of a Troika fleet, with vessels from all three races, the ships themselves left broken and bleeding. Some had been holed repeatedly, their interior compartments exposed to space, while someone had blasted others into clouds of slowly expanding debris.

“... who could have done this?” Raven asked, her voice just above a whisper.

I shook my head, struggling to make sense of it all. “It wasn’t an Alliance fleet,” I told her with some confidence, “if for no other reason than they’d be picking the remains clean for anything of value. They certainly wouldn’t have abandoned the field like this.”

“I didn’t think the Alliance fleet was big enough to fight on this scale,” she said dubiously.

I turned and looked at her. “It’s not,” I said quietly. “That’s the other reason. Besides, if it had been the Alliance, there’d be Alliance ships strewn about the battle zone… and there isn’t a single one, near as I can tell. There’s no way they’d have gotten off scot-free.”

Her eyes were enormous as she looked on with jagged unease. “If it wasn’t the Alliance… then who?”

While we’d been talking, I’d had the shuttle’s computer run an analysis of the vessels in question, and it offered some preliminary results. I skimmed the report, confirming my suspicions. “Like I said, nothing but Troika ships. There’s only one answer I can think of,” I shrugged, “and that’s they did it to themselves.”

She looked at me in confusion. “Why would the Troika blow up their own ships?”

“You’re thinking of the Troika as a single entity,” I told her, “when in fact it’s composed of three separate races that barely tolerate one another. The only reason they’ve stayed together is because it was easier to conquer the galaxy if they didn’t need to constantly watch their backs. It’s a marriage of convenience, nothing more. They’ve never been thrilled about the arrangement, and if, say… an Eleexx ship can jump one owned by the Tu’udh’hizh’ak, somewhere without witnesses, they’ll do it and blame it on ‘Unknown Parties’,” I explained. “Or better still, the Corsairs. Everyone knows they’re pirates, despite what they claim, and it’s not like they’re in a position to argue.”

I looked back out over the battlefield. “But these last couple of years, cracks have started to show. That mission to Earth I told you about, that’s what really lit a fire under them. Then Samara, my old shipmate, started attacking the Troika, hitting several worlds, and suddenly they were looking more to their own houses instead of cooperating. The assault on Sonoitii Prime brought things to a head, and it was the first time someone ever defeated a Troika fleet in battle.” I leaned back in my chair, shaking my head. “But one this size would have destroyed them.”

Raven slowly nodded her head. “So you think this is the first major battle of what… a Troika Civil War?”

“It has to be,” I insisted. “I’m sure there were survivors, but they must have quit the field before enemy reinforcements arrived. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if remnants of all three races escaped, licking their wounds and preparing for round two.” I gave her a slight smile. “If I’m right, then this changes everything. With the Troika fighting amongst themselves, it gives us time to recruit and train. When they finish beating each other’s brains in, we’ll be able to dictate terms.” I grinned as I plotted a course away from the battle zone. “In the meantime, let’s get out of here before they come back.”

“I like that idea,” she said in relief, as we sped away, eager to put as much distance between us and the shattered hulks as possible. “You’re certain it’s the Troika then?” she asked once more, wanting to believe it was genuine.

“I do,” I assured her. “Who else could it be?”