> If you’d asked me then why I made the offer to him, I’d have told you it was simply the right thing to do. With time and distance, I realize that it was so much more than that—and so much more terrifying than that as well. A man’s mind is the one thing he should have control over, especially in an age where maladies of the brain are eliminated… and yet in his presence, I was entirely outside my own good judgment. Throne of Terra, I still quail at the power he had even then—before he truly Awakened, and everything went so horribly, horribly wrong.
Port Asfalís, to Arthur’s eyes, resembled a gigantic metal umbrella. A colossal shaft of steel hundreds of feet long extended down from a circular top capped by a massive dome, and dozens of vessels—many far larger than the Enterprising Fortune—sat docked in one of the endless number of carefully constructed drydock slips created to allow for rapid arrival, departure, and the loading and unloading of goods.
He had returned to the bridge near the end of the Enterprising Fortune’s journey through Graecia and had been present when they’d dropped out of Compressed Space with a vacuum-muted eruption of displacement.
He didn’t want to imagine how long it might have taken them to move from the outside of the Heliosphere to the third planet in orbit of the system’s A0V-type white star, Apollo, without the C-Drive. Being able to travel at up to 0.5c—149,896 kilometers per second—outside of gravity wells or warp anchors was incredibly useful for crossing the billions of kilometers that a star system contained.
It was also a steady drain on any ship’s supply of hydrogen fuel, though his understanding of the Enterprising Fortune was that for what the fast-packet courier lacked in living space, the immense engines around which the one hundred and twenty meters of its length was built greatly made up for it in terms of output and acceleration.
Then again, fuel needs were why Gas Giants were so incredibly valuable.
Arthur’s eyes drifted away from Port Asfalís and fell upon Hellas.
The first thing he thought of was how stunning the Ascendancy’s Throneworld was.
The first colony and official Capital of the Graecia system, Hellas orbited comfortably within Apollo’s liquid water zone. At almost twice the size of Terra, Hellas was a supercontinental world with three major land masses and two moons, both of which had been converted into colossal satellite fortresses. From Arthur’s research, both had been named for the twin sons of Ares; Deimos and Phobos.
Hellas alone appeared to have been named for a region of ancient Greece, while the remaining planets in the System had all received names from the classical Pantheon.
Hades, which sat in the orbital position closest to Apollo, was a sickly green toxic world that Arthur understood to be completely uninhabitable outside of very specifically built bio-domes. Above Hades and hidden from Apollo by the toxic world’s shadow was Tartarus, another artificial fortress built out from a large asteroid, equipped with engines, and set into a static position to watch over the tidally locked green planet which doubled as the system’s supermax prison.
If nothing else, Arthur couldn’t fault Graecia’s work at deterring criminals.
Hades was a permanent warning against the folly of violating the Ascendancy’s laws.
Next out from Hades and between it and Hellas sat Poseidon; a storm-wracked massive ocean world that, based on Arthur’s research, was purported to be home to leviathans large enough to be seen from orbit in the right circumstances—and utterly antithetical to any form of human habitation thanks to the same fauna, despite its surprisingly hospitable atmosphere.
Then came Hellas, at whose Lagrange-1 point hung the immense body of Port Asfalís.
Demeter was the fourth planet out from Apollo after Hellas and was located at the outer edge of the liquid water zone, though still within its blanket. Demeter, which Arthur understood to be a dedicated Agri-World with one of the highest food productions in the entire Rim, was orbited by its single uninhabitable but mineral-rich moon Persephone.
Beyond Demeter and fifth out from Apollo lay Ares, which Arthur understood to also be the site of the largest amount of dedicated military infrastructure within the system outside of Hellas’ lagrange points. The entire planet had been largely converted to steel and industry, with a breathtaking orbital ring of shipyards encircling its equator. This ring was connected to four immense space elevators that anchored it in place and provided ready transport to and from the surface.
A surface that had continent-sized facilities and troposphere-tall habitation spires visible from space.
The small, habitable planetoid Aphrodite orbited Ares, its surface an eclectic blend of blue, purple, and green that had made it famous as a holiday destination throughout the Rim.
In the sixth position of orbit around Apollo lay the super jovian Gas Giant Zeus—twice as large as Sol’s Jupiter—and its moons Hera, Artemis, Dionysus, and Athena. The massive harvesting ring orbiting Zeus served both as a primary fueling station for the Ascendancy’s Navy, and one of the largest hydrogen extraction operations in the Rim; large enough to supply every ambition the Graecian Ascendancy might hold economically and militarily.
The last and seventh planet in the System was Hephaestus, a molten world to which all visitation was forbidden, and whose moons Aurum and Argentum had been converted into excessively powerful defensive fortifications. The entire thing screamed military research and development to Arthur, but he had no intentions of prying.
For reasons that Arthur had neither the education nor interest in understanding, Hellas had developed a superb habitation capacity; and was well-known as both a super-habitable world ideal for all forms of life, and a planet rich with a plethora of natural resources—especially metals—that had made Graecia the wealthiest star system in its home cluster.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Larriman’s words snapped Arthur out of his ruminations and he turned back to the heavy-set man with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry?”
“Hellas.” The captain said with a nod to the viewscreen. “The Ascendancy was lucky that their colony ship was sent here, out of so many other options.”
“Oh.” Arthur said with a look back to the viewscreen. “Yeah. They were.”
“Port authority sends all clear, skipper.” One of the women manning a bridge console declared cheerfully before the pair could say more. “We’re being guided into slip Epsilon-Thirteen.”
“Already?” Arthur asked with genuine surprise while the cylindrical shape of the Enterprising Fortune made an immediate and careful approach toward one of the many docks of Port Asfalís. “I expected a longer wait time.”
“You saw how efficient the Navy was at the Calypso point.” Larriman pointed out. “Why would their primary starport be any different?”
“You make a fair point.”
“Besides, Graecia is one of the most popular refueling stops in this whole section of the Rim. You can reach most of the inner sectors on a pretty straight path from Graecia, if you allow for some Euclidean movement between layers of the Orion Arm.”
“I didn’t think fuel would be much of a factor.” Arthur said with a thoughtful look at the viewscreen, though his eyes were more focused on Asfalís and its layout. He mapped it carefully while he spoke, just in case he needed to understand the external nature in future. “Most inhabited Systems have at least one nearby, from my understanding. It’s always part of the consideration for the Terran colonization authority, from what I’d read.”
“That’s usually true,” Larriman conceded, “but there are always exceptions. This isn’t the Fringe, Magellan. It’s a much wilder section of space, for all that I said it wasn’t the wild west. The wars are long and brutal, and any trader worth their license knows it’s best to identify a reliable and affordable fueling stop on their first trip in.”
“Are the non-standard routes that inefficient?”
“It’s rare to get stuck without hydrogen for the Alcubierre,” Larriman said conversationally, “but not unheard of this far out. Especially with how unstable some of the hyperlanes are. The amount of fuel you need to burn to keep the warp bubble stable enough for travel can be exponential in some micro-clusters, and if you get stuck between fueling stops without enough hydrogen to make the next jump…”
This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
“Game over, unless someone finds you first.” Arthur said with a quiet sigh. “I get it. You’ve had to learn where to expect consistency.”
“In essence.” Larriman nodded. “The Hyperion Cluster is better than many others for variety, though Graecia is the usual go-to for most people.”
“That’s reassuring.” Arthur said with another easy smile.
“I’m surprised at how much of a show of force they’ve been giving off, though.” Larriman said with a grim glance at the viewscreen and the warships they could both see prowling the space around Asfalís. “Things with Parthia must be worse than we’d heard.”
Arthur observed the screen while a formation of three cruisers and a light carrier sailed past and entered C-Drive with a blaze of their plasma engines, hyper-accelerating into specks of distant light almost instantaneously with a small discharge of force-wake. “I thought it was just hyperlane control tensions and resource disputes, plus what you said about Parthia being the Cluster’s bully.”
“So did I, but…” He nodded to where the task force had just vanished from. “The ARN has the home fleet out in force across the entire System. The last time we were here, half of these ships were probably in drydock and uncrewed to save costs.”
Arthur frowned at the screen thoughtfully while Larriman spoke.
“Something’s ramping up, Magellan.” The Captain said with grim confidence. “And for all that I enjoy Graecia, I’ll be happy when I leave this Cluster. Rim wars are… a different beast.”
“You said that before.” Arthur noted. “What makes them so bloody?”
“You’ve done the research, I’d hope.”
“Some.” Arthur affirmed. “But you sound like you’ve had experience.”
“Unfortunately.” Larriman said with a nod. “And all I can really tell you is that it’s a stellar bloodbath. The people out here fight hard to claw their way up toward the inner sector standards, and they’re more willing to start shooting for it than anywhere else. Ambition creates aggression, and make no mistake, the Rim nations are the most ambitious. They were settled far later than the Fringe, and they’re far enough away from Terra to feel as though adhering to the ‘natural order’ may not always be to their liking.”
“That’s just inviting Censure from the Grand Imperium.” Arthur muttered.
“It’s happened a few times. Most of them just don’t care, though. They want to claw their way up to parity, and they’ll go through anyone in their way. I’ve seen inner-Rim nations go to war with outer-Verge powers, despite the insanity of the logistics involved, and nevermind the technology disparity.” The Captain said, and shook his head while he continued. “Don’t underestimate the Rim sector, and don’t underestimate the Hyperion cluster.” Larriman warned. “You’ll live longer if you respect their ambition for what it is.”
“I suppose it’ll mean plenty of work for me,” Arthur murmured with a thoughtful look at the military vessels displayed on the screen. “Assuming I can find an employer worth the time, anyway.”
“On that front, Magellan, I think you’ll be fine.” Larriman said more evenly. “Graecians are nothing if not broadly honorable. It’s a cultural thing.”
“Sounds like a good place.”
“Better than many.” Larriman agreed.
Minutes passed in silence after that while the Enterprising Fortune was settled into its assigned dock with a careful application of maneuvering thrusters. When the docking clamps took hold of the courier with a rumbling thud, Arthur stepped back and Larriman rose from his seat.
“Let’s get you aboard Asfalís, Magellan.” The Captain said with a smile. “And let’s get me paid!”
Arthur smiled wryly and turned to the rest of the crew. “I didn’t really get to know any of you, but best of luck! Stay safe out there.”
“Yeah, you too, tall, blond, and handsome!” The same woman from earlier shouted, and drew forth a laugh from the rest of the crew. “If you ever need a tour guide, feel free to give me a call!”
Arthur snorted and threw a wave at the crew, before turning to retrieve his jacket and backpack and pull both on one, after the other. From there, he followed the Captain out of the doors to the bridge without a second look back.
“We’ll be in dock for two days, Magellan,” the Captain said while they moved through the linear, cramped corridor threading through the main body of the ship. “If you decide you want to join us on the return trip, you have until then.”
Arthur raised a surprised eyebrow at the bulk of the other man, though it went unseen, and responded with a guarded sense of wary surprise. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m not planning on it.”
“I thought as much, but the offer’s there.” Larriman said over his shoulder.
Arthur considered the shorter and heavy-set man thoughtfully, and then let his curiosity triumph. “I didn’t think you’d want me around, given I’m ostensibly running from something.”
“I may not be overly fond of what manner of supposed ‘woman trouble’ would send a man as clearly capable as you are running, Magellan, but I also felt your psion density on the bridge. I left it alone, but I’m not like the rest of the crew. I have insights in that sort of thing, and you’re no ordinary Freelancer.” The Captain shrugged while he walked. “But don’t worry, I won’t pry too much on that front. I have a feeling it’s better for my health if I don’t.”
Arthur frowned at the man’s certainty while they walked, and assessed the swarthy Captain with a more critical eye. Was Larriman truly picking up on his psion density, or was there something else at play? He didn’t want to accuse the merchant of anything incorrectly, but if there was something else going on…
He quietly started checking the corners of each area while they proceeded forward.
The Captain seemed satisfied enough with what he’d already said to continue their progress without further comment, and the pair proceeded in silence.
It took Arthur and Larriman all of six minutes to move steadily from the bridge to the large, singular docking airlock connecting the courier’s superstructure to any external vessel or station that sought entry. There were other access points, but those served a solely maintenance function and only opened one way.
When they arrived at the large metal doors, the pair stopped together and Arthur turned to face the wider, but notably shorter merchant.
“Thank you for your hospitality and the safe trip,” he said without preamble. “The drachma will be deposited into your accounts the moment I step foot onto the station.” He waved his left wrist and the omni-comp on it idly. “It’s already been set up, as I promised.”
The Captain simply nodded at the reassurance, cast his dark gaze at the docking umbilical connected to the airlock, and then turned back to Arthur. “Two days we’ll be here for refueling and to take on mail and media.” He said simply. “If you decide you want to return with us, send a message by HoloNet.”
“I won’t.” Arthur assured him firmly. “Though I have to say I’m surprised, again, that you bothered to remind me of that offer. Your insistence is a little suspicious, to be candid, given your assertion that I’m ‘no ordinary Freelancer’ as you put it.”
“Sometimes you just need to trust your gut.” Larriman responded with a shrug of his shoulders. “I know you’re not just a Freelancer even if you won’t say what you are, Magellan, because I’m not just a fat merchant.” Instead of elaborating further, and with seemingly no reaction to the coiled tension that entered Arthur the moment the words were said; the Captain instead rolled up his right sleeve to show what appeared to be an intricate tattoo of metallic platinum wrapped around his forearm.
Arthur, however, knew better. His eyes narrowed with immediate recognition.
“Callandium?” He asked rhetorically. “That explains your confidence, at least.”
“To a point.” Larriman responded with a nod. “I have enough compatibility for a few matrices, but bugger all for psions to fuel them. Your density makes mine look laughable.” He said with a shake of his head.
“I only opted for this one to gain some rudimentary capability as an empath to help with business deals, and even then, I’m only Theta-ranked.”
Arthur’s expression slowly morphed from open wariness to a more subdued caution, but he nodded at Larriman’s explanation. “That would explain it.” He said carefully, though he didn’t let his guard down. Larriman could be lying, after all. “I take it you were tested for the Academia Psionica?”
“Deemed incapable, despite my compatibility.” Larriman said with a shrug. “Low psions.”
“So they granted a license for a single matrix as consolation.” Arthur surmised.
Larriman nodded and rolled down his sleeve. “The Paladins took me for testing when I was fifteen, though I can’t say it was too much of a surprise. I’m no Coreblood.”
The moment the Captain said the word, Arthur felt a sharp spike of irritation, though he couldn’t have explained why. Other than his own biases against Coreworlders, there was no real reason for him to react to a slur meant for people from the innermost Sector of the Humanosphere.
Despite those facts, the epithet had engendered a feeling of anger in him he couldn’t quite quantify.
Instead of addressing it, Arthur simply offered his hand out for Larriman to shake.
“I appreciate what you’ve entrusted me with, Captain.” Arthur said politely. “And I would like to say it’s been a genuine pleasure to have been your cargo, inasmuch as I was also your passenger, but this is most definitely where we part ways. I wish you luck.”
Larriman eyed him for a moment, but shook his hand regardless. “You really are set on this, then?”
“Very much so.” Arthur confirmed. “Graecia is where I need to be.”
“Don’t suppose you’ll tell me why?” The Captain asked when their handshake ended.
“I’m afraid I can’t.” Arthur said with an apologetic smile.
“I thought as much, but it never hurts to ask. You stay safe, Arthur Magellan, until next we meet.”
“Until then, Captain. Godspeed.”
Arthur turned and started toward the docking tube and umbilical.
Larriman didn’t stop him and Arthur hitched his backpack firmly onto his shoulders. Without a glance back, he stepped from the true steel of the Enterprising Fortune and onto the flexible plastisteel of the docking umbilical.
Port Asfalís lay ahead, and Arthur knew in his core it was where he had to be.
He also hadn’t lied to Captain Larriman.
He truly couldn’t tell the other man why he had to be in Graecia. It was not a conspiracy nor some great secret opportunity that drew Arthur onward toward the immense star port. No family awaited him, and no clandestine forces for him to command or guide lay lurking around a corner.
The simple truth was that Arthur had a compulsion that urged him onward to Graecia, a compulsion that encouraged, the demanded he comply.
It was a compulsion whose source he couldn’t identify.
In Graecia, he hoped to find answers.
No matter the cost.