Before Jack could manage to get out of his sleeping bag, a small crowd had already gathered around him. Dazed, he looked around, noticing Eve, Mr. Okoro, Julie, and Corporal Āwhina, all in various states of concern or desperation. Quickly leaping to his feet, he scanned the area, searching for the source of their alarm.

“We jumped,” Eve stated bluntly.

“I noticed, yes,” Jack replied. “Why?”

“We don’t know,” came the answer from Mr. Okoro, “but I can make a few guesses. Get up; we can’t talk here.”

Silently, Agent Okoro led them through the ship to the same room where he and Jack had talked earlier. With all of them inside, it was far more crowded. In a barely audible voice, Okoro filled Jack in on what had happened while he was asleep: moments after the ship’s processing centers were all reconnected, it suddenly and unexpectedly jumped, somewhere into interstellar space. Immediately after that, Major Barrett ordered all of the connections severed again, insisting that the ship had jumped on its own. Since then, the Major had retreated to a section deep within the ship, somewhere on deck 19, allowing no one to pass except his commandos.

“Was he lying about the ship jumping on its own?” Jack inquired.

“Ms. Nakayama?” Agent Okoro turned to Eve.

“I messaged Dr. Liu as soon as it happened. According to him, the Major is lying. The ship’s jump drive isn’t even operational. He used the ones we brought on board.”

“But why?” Jack asked, stunned. “Why would he do this?”

“I am about to share something with you,” Mr. Okoro replied in a grave tone. “Something I’ve kept hidden from all of you so far. Something I didn’t want to reveal, because I knew what it would set in motion. As you know, as part of the surrender we negotiated, a few dozen of the Kharlath asked to stay behind on the ship as prisoners, and to be quarantined on deck 21 specifically. We didn’t know why, but we were happy to oblige. As far as we knew, below deck 20, there was nothing except empty hangars and storage rooms. It seemed like a small price to pay for this entire ship, and over 500 willing prisoners. A few days ago, one of the Kharlath cracked under interrogation and revealed the reason behind this arrangement: in the main hangar on deck 21, far away from us and hidden from our sensors, is a Kharlath clan-mother, along with 30,000 fertilized eggs, ready to hatch in a matter of months.”

“That’s an entire generation for a Kharlath clan!” Julie remarked, astounded.

“More specifically, clan Jihara, to whom most of the horde’s highest-ranking generals, including the war chief himself, belong,” Mr. Okoro continued. “The Major told everyone who had learned of this to keep quiet. He didn’t inform our superiors, nor any of our allies. Everyone who knows this information is currently on this ship. And I’m willing to bet he’s not going to just sit on it.”

“It’s one hell of a bargaining chip,” Eve observed. “With the clan-mother and the eggs in our possession, we could probably finally drag them to the negotiation table and end this war! What the hell is Barrett thinking?”

“Probably exactly what you’re thinking,” Jack replied. “He doesn’t want to end this war. He wants to win it.”

Mr. Okoro nodded. “He doesn’t think the Kharlath leadership can be negotiated with. He doesn’t trust Earth to make the right choice, so he took it out of their hands entirely.”

“But to what end?” Julie inquired. “He can’t keep us here in empty space forever.”

Everyone knew the answer to her question, but no one dared to voice it out loud. To everyone in that room, it was unthinkable, yet it was the only logical conclusion to Barrett’s actions thus far: he was going to destroy them. All of them.

The blaring of the freshly installed ship alarm abruptly ended their meeting. Over the intercom, Major Barrett’s voice could be heard, warning that the Kharlath prisoners had escaped, calling for the Assault Corps squads to join him, and advising everyone else to stay armed and travel in groups.

“He’s thinning the herd. It’s begun,” Mr. Okoro warned ominously.

With bated breath, the group headed for the armory, as dozens of Assault Corps soldiers rushed around them, rifles in hand. Jack breathed a sigh of relief as soon as he got his hands on a plasma pistol. As they were getting armed, everyone in the group exchanged lost, uncertain looks. For the first time in a long time, Jack didn’t feel like taking charge. He was truly out of his depth. But reluctantly, he decided to act. Clearing his throat and burying his insecurity, he began speaking loudly:

“We need to bring Arda and Dr. Liu into the fold. Mr. Windek as well—he’s become a part of this regardless. Anyone else that you know and trust, tell them to come to us. Who knows what’s going to happen next.” After giving it a bit of thought, he continued, “Private Scheer, the Assault Corps kid who came with us from the Bismarck—does anyone know anything about him?”

“I know what squad he’s been reassigned to,” Corporal Āwhina spoke for the first time in a while. “He’s with the guys the Major called up just now.”

Jack had feared it would come to this. He could only hope that the escaped Kharlath prisoners were the only dangers awaiting the young soldier.

A few hours later, his little resistance group had established a headquarters—an unused storage room far off the beaten path, deep within the ship—and had cobbled together some semblance of a plan. They had procured supplies and weapons, few enough that no one would miss them, and were prepared for any possible outcome. As they all gathered together for the first time, Jack looked around the room: a mix of some of his closest friends, vaguely familiar faces, and complete strangers. All in all, about 20 people—each of whom would have to trust the others with their lives.

As the small crowd did their best to make themselves comfortable, Jack stepped into the middle of the room, preparing to give a speech. No one had named him the leader of this group, yet somehow everyone naturally assumed it would be him. Stalling for time, he began by recapping their shared history:

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“About two weeks ago, we all arrived here on this ship. Some of us were part of the initial assault, some came later, but regardless, we all ended up under Major Barrett’s command. As you’ve no doubt noticed, that is not a very good position to be in. Barrett is not the kind of leader you can trust with your life. In fact, he’s not the kind of leader you can trust, period. You’ve probably heard many rumors about what kind of man he is, and most of them are true. With all that being said, however, that’s not something that calls for any sort of action. You cannot start a mutiny just because you have a crappy boss. Unfortunately, that is not all. What you might not know is that Major Barrett is a traitor to the Commonwealth, who stole this ship under false pretenses, and—what’s worse—he did it to commit a heinous crime. A crime we will all be unwitting accomplices to, unless we stop him. Mr. Okoro will fill you in on the details.”

On cue, Agent Okoro swapped places with Jack, and began revealing the same information he had given the smaller group a few hours before, sparing no detail. Jack looked through the crowd, scanning their faces. Everyone was horrified, as the reality of what was at stake was sinking in. But, encouragingly, there was not a hint of fear or hesitation in the room. Everyone knew what needed to be done, when the time would come.

Soon enough, the meeting ended, and everyone went their separate ways. The atmosphere on the ship was incredibly tense. Between the escaped prisoners and Barrett’s increasingly erratic behavior, it was apparent to everyone that things were going to go south at some point. The first day passed with nothing of note happening. On the second day, the Kharlath prisoners surrendered themselves again, with minimal casualties on both sides. Then came the third day, and the fourth, and soon enough, a week had passed with no incidents.

Slowly but surely, an inkling of an idea began forming in Jack’s mind: was this Barrett’s plan all along? To drive him insane by doing nothing? To simply wait out his ragtag resistance by refusing to act first? If that was the plan, it hadn’t been entirely unsuccessful. Everyone was visibly on edge, and Jack himself was growing more paranoid and stressed. Each day, he waited for the other shoe to drop, idly wasting his time. They were stuck in the middle of nowhere—quite literally—with nothing to do and nowhere to run. They had no orders anymore, no tasks, no real way to pass the time. All Jack could do was aimlessly walk around the ship, preparing himself for a confrontation that never seemed to come.

Even the ship’s walls felt like they were closing in on him. Eve had once likened being aboard the Mothership to living inside a gigantic salt lamp, and Jack was starting to agree. Everything was beige, bathed in the same low-intensity, warm light with no apparent source. The mostly empty rooms and corridors perfectly blended together. He’d sometimes walk from room to room, not knowing whether he was going in circles or not. It was maddening. But just as he felt like he was about to lose it, the most unexpected thing happened: Major Barrett himself called, offering a face-to-face conversation. It was probably a trap, but even that was welcome at this point.

Passing through two heavily fortified security checkpoints, Jack entered Barrett’s new office and found him almost unrecognizable. The Major, once impeccably groomed, was disheveled. His beard, once neat, ran wild, and his hair fell flat over his forehead. His bloodshot eyes darted manically around the room, anchored by dark, heavy bags beneath them. In his hand, he held a half-full glass of whiskey.

“Sit,” the Major growled. Jack could smell the liquor on his breath from across the room.

Jack confidently took the chair across from him. Barrett guzzled down the rest of his whiskey in one gulp and slammed the glass onto the table. They stared at each other in silence for a few moments before Barrett spoke again.

“Nereus—you know the origin of that name?”

“It was the name of the ship my father arrived on, back on Magellan,” Jack replied confidently.

“He’s a minor deity in Greek mythology. The old man of the sea, they called him. Fitting name for a ship.” Barrett mused, clearly avoiding the point. “Do you know much about Greek mythology?”

“No, not really,” Jack answered, confused. Was Barrett truly reduced to a rambling drunk, or was this another act?

“There’s a story about a young man named Oedipus, who is told by an oracle that he is fated to kill his father and screw his mother. By trying to avoid his fate, he does exactly that. Well, I’ve already killed my father, metaphorically speaking. Now, all that’s left is to do the even more unpleasant part. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

“Yes,” Jack nodded decisively. He didn’t have a clue what Barrett was talking about.

“I was afraid,” Barrett continued, his voice almost a whisper. “Afraid of the Othiri and whatever they were planning. Afraid of you, of how you were going to usurp me. Afraid of Earth doing something unthinkably stupid. So when you handed me the perfect opportunity, I acted. I took the ship, and I ran. Two days was all I needed—or so I thought. Deal with our little nursery in the basement, if I’m lucky, get rid of you and your friends. Then I’d return, acting like nothing had happened. I’d say it was a malfunction with the ship. Your little experiment would’ve explained it perfectly.”

Even in this state, Barrett managed a devilish smile, still somehow finding a way to be smug.

“You had Mr. Okoro choose who gets to stay on the ship. Surely, you knew that would backfire,” Jack pointed out, hoping to wipe the smug grin off Barrett’s face.

“Yes, I did,” Barrett replied, his grin lingering. “And I even let him talk me into keeping the Assault Corps platoons on board. Led, of course, by Sergeant Mendel—one of our guys in the Interstellar Fleet command structure. Which, by the way, Agent Okoro wasn’t supposed to know about. But after I let the Kharlath escape, I told the good Sergeant it was you two, planning a coup. He pulled me aside and said that when the time came, he’d shoot me himself.” Barrett let out a hoarse, animalistic laugh.

“You underestimated him,” Jack observed.

“As do you,” Barrett shot back. “You think he works for you, that you have his loyalty. But guys like him, like us, we’re never truly loyal to anyone but ourselves. You’re just another angle for him to work. But it’s all moot anyway. We’re all going to die here.” He reached for the bottle, avoiding Jack’s gaze.

“Excuse me?” Jack was startled by the Major’s words. What exactly did he mean?

“Oh yes, that’s why I called you here. We’re stranded.” The Major clarified as he poured himself another drink. “The jump drives we were given were really only meant to work once. I thought that if I made a smaller jump, it would be fine, but they’re fried. And the ship’s engines were taken down when we disconnected the AI. That’s the grand irony of all this. You can have your coup, that little army of Kharlath babies can hatch and grow and have their own little babies. It’s all pointless. It doesn’t matter. The closest star system is decades away. We’d die of old age, and the Kharlath would all starve to death. In a way, I did fix all of our problems.” Barrett began laughing again, slowly escalating until he was draped halfway out of his chair, cackling like a maniac.

“You want me to take over,” Jack realized, stunned. “You want me in charge when things go bad, while you’re sitting cozy, waiting for your chance to take back leadership.”

“No, you idiot! I want you to shoot me!” Barrett yelled, throwing a plasma pistol onto the table. “There’s no way out of this. You can take your chances with the ship’s AI, but it will probably kill you. You can try to make it to the next system, but you will fail. It’s over. Let me take the easy way out, and we both get what we want.”

For the first time, any hint of smugness or superiority vanished from Barrett’s demeanor. Jack saw him for what he truly was: a sad, broken, and pathetic old man, hoisted by his own petard.

“Do it yourself,” Jack replied dismissively, turning and walking out of the room.