It had been three weeks since the Hyperion had left Ghenus. In that time, they had traveled twenty thousand light years across uncountable star systems. Samir had spent his days mostly in routine, the initial excitement from the launch ceremony slowly wearing off in the monotony of space travel.

He sighed as checked another name off the list. Looking up, he saw the face of one of his crew members, one Ensign Jason Read, frozen in a glass pod. Samir stood in a long hallway with dozens of pods running along the wall. Most of the stasis chambers held the silent faces of the crew sleeping away.

Around ninety percent of the crew had already retired to stasis for the eight-year journey ahead. The remaining ten percent comprised some of the senior staff and the pilot crew. They would be the last to enter the stasis pods. In the meantime, someone was required to do inspections on all the pods to make sure they were running properly before the remaining skeleton crew went into stasis.

While Samir could’ve assigned this job to a lower officer, he always preferred to do this particular duty himself. He moved to the next pod, checking the functionality from a terminal before crossing another name off his list.

He heard someone’s footsteps walking along the long corridor. Samir glanced out of the corner of his eye to see Father Soren walking along, sprinkling holy water on the pods.

“I never had time to thank you, Father. For choosing to come along with us.”

“Someone needed to.” The priest didn’t look at Singh, continuing his work. “There weren’t any Catholic-Orthodox priests on the Herodatus. We will need to evangelize a whole galaxy.”

“Still, I am thankful you were the one,” Singh whispered, “to watch over me in this hour.”

Father Soren moved onto the next stasis pod. “You are worried that you might become the same man you were at Canna. That you might commit yet another slaughter?”

Samir lowered his head. “Yes.”

“You are a new man, Captain Singh. Your sins were forgiven with your baptism into the faith,” the priest stated flatly.

“And yet you still look at me the same way.” Samir didn’t lift his gaze away from his diagnostics.

Soren Danubik was one of the few people in the galaxy older than Samir himself. He was entering into his late four hundreds the last time Samir checked. Interestingly, the man allowed himself to age even further than Singh ever dared to. Father Soren’s body was decrepit, whereas Samir kept much of his youthful strength. The old priest had allowed himself to feel fully the pains of arthritis and a failing body.

“Is this why your brought me here, Captain?” The priest finally turned to Singh. “To hold the whip while you flagellate yourself in your own guilt?”

Samir went silent. Father Soren was in one of the neighboring star systems during the Battle of Canna. He wasn’t there for when Samir burned his entire family to death. He didn’t see the planet crack and burst open. Perhaps that was a mercy, but the sad truth remained that Father Soren was the last living heir to the Danubik Houses.

Samir sought him out after the war was over. He had placed a gun in the priest’s hand and offered his life in payment.

Samir paused from his inspection. “No, Father. I find myself caught in a spider’s web. There are few among the crew that I can trust. There is a trap. I don’t know who or when or how, but it’s coming.”

The priest patted the folds of his cassock. Samir recognized the slight bulge as that of a knife, though he couldn’t tell what kind.

“Should it come to violence, I want you to know that I am not your ally, Singh. I will do what the Lord commands to be just. Nothing more and nothing less.”

Samir nodded in understanding. “I don’t ask for anything else.”

“Then tell me.” The priest resumed his duty of sprinkling the holy water. “Who do you suspect?”

“Dr. Terese. I don’t have any hard evidence, but I’ve seen it before on other ships during campaigns. I looked at her bio. She’s civilian through and through despite what it says. They embed those types into the command. She’ll be the one pulling the strings.”

“Anyone else?”

“The only other person who had major discrepancies in their bio is Chief Helmsman Miles Kieth. I contacted a few people in the reserve fleet before we left. His records are completely fake as well.”

“Your second-in-command and your chief pilot.” The priest rubbed his chin. “You have the two most important people needed to carry out a mutiny. What about the chief engineer?”

Samir tapped a diagnostic screen. The result came back as an error. He sighed. Sometimes the machinery needed to reboot to work properly. He clicked for a system restore and clicked it again. This time it came back green, and he checked another name off the list.

“He doesn’t like me. I’m fairly sure he thinks I’m a glory-hound, some arrogant old man too proud for his own good. But he’s trustworthy. I don’t think he’s a threat.”

“Are you sure?” the priest asked again. “He holds control over the gravity core. At any time…”

Samir looked up from his pad. “I trust him.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Father Soren shrugged his shoulders. “So be it. But what do you want me to do with this information?”

“Watch them,” Samir ordered. “Keeps tabs on their movement aboard the ship. I’ll provide access to their communication lines if necessary. Above all, report back anything suspicious.”

“I am not well suited to spying, Singh,” Father Soren grimly replied.

“The fate of two galaxies could rest on this, Father.” Samir crossed the final name off his list. “And I don’t have anyone else I can trust.”

The priest groaned, resting his hand on his forehead. “I will do it, but I suspect you cannot avoid this snare, Singh. The Free Exchange are just as cunning as the serpent. They would not go through this trouble otherwise.”

“Then what do you suggest, Father?”

The priest looked at Samir with cold eyes. It was those eyes that Samir saw when he handed Father Soren the gun. He honestly expected to die that day. The priest had raised the gun, the barrel right against Samir’s forehead, but something had stopped the older man from pulling the trigger. The same something that Samir now saw again just behind the old man’s eyes.

“Brave the coming storm ahead. Step into the waves and put your faith in the Lord that he will catch you. There is no other way.”

Samir found himself quietly walking the halls of the ship. He would go into his own stasis pod tonight. For him, tomorrow would bring him to the edge of the galaxy. For the rest of the Milky Way, eight years would pass without a word. Technically sixteen at minimum for the journey back, although there were a few workarounds with enhanced transmissions.

He had only been in a stasis pod a few times. Most of his campaigns were fought in protectorate space where there was ready access to a Space Gate. He had gone under mostly for short excursions to clean out enemy outposts in nearby solar systems. However, once he was forced to go into stasis because turret fire had damaged the gravity core. With no supplies or immediate rescue coming, they were forced to set off the emergency beacon and pray someone would happen upon their dead ship.

All adventures in the past. He didn’t fear stasis as others did. If death should take him in his sleep, then so be it. But Singh felt an edge to him that hadn’t been there before. Now it truly mattered to him that he made it to the other end of the voyage. There was only one shot, and it was eight long years for anything to go wrong.

Samir shook his head of those thoughts as he walked into the observation deck. The darkened lounge was only lit by auxiliary lighting near the floor. A kitchen was off to one side, surrounded by empty seats and couches. Along the side of the room was a glass wall where one could look out into space. Since they were in a gravity bubble, the stars moved at a strange pace. The little lights distorted and warped, going fast and slow at odd intervals.

To his surprise, he saw a single man sitting alone on a bench watching the stars go by. Lt. Commander Klyker looked lost in thought in the dark. He didn’t move a muscle as Samir approached.

“It’s a rare man to come to the observation deck before stasis,” Samir spoke wearily. “Most of the officers I’ve served with preferred to drink. Some last fun before a sleep they might never wake up from.”

Klyker glanced to him surprised and shot up from his seat. “Sir, I apologize. I didn’t realize you were coming here. I thought you were going to be at dinner with Commander Terese.”

Samir frowned. It was a tradition among military vessels for a captain to share a meal with the second-in-command before stasis on a long voyage. A last meal to exchange conversation, as either of them could be waking up without the other.

Samir dismissed the thought. “Commander Terese has found it more prudent to carry out a second inspection of the stasis pods. She sadly couldn’t find the time for the meal.” Samir pointed to an empty spot on the bench. “Do you mind if I take a seat next to you?”

“Of course.” Klyker sat back down as Samir joined him.

The two looked out towards the specks of light flying by in the black. Bubbles of distant flame burning by in the midnight abyss. Samir knew each one held planets—countless worlds he would never see or touch. Infinite shores upon a sea that he would never live to cross.

“Captain, I’ve always wanted to ask,” Klyker suddenly spoke. “I’ve taken lessons about you. I’ve studied Canna out of textbooks. Half my education was based on the Danubik campaigns. And yet…”

Samir looked at him. “What is it?”

“Why did you do it? All of that and no one ever said why. I know the strategic rationale, to save millions of lives from a planetary assault. End the fighting quickly.”

“But that’s not good enough. You want to know the type of man who could carry something like that out. You want to know exactly what type of man is the Butcher of Three Systems.”

Klyker nodded.

Samir scratched his head and chuckled. “You know, I don’t think anyone has asked me that question strangely enough. It was always just assumed that I did it for the good of the galaxy. That I wanted to save lives or stop the Danubik expansion. No one ever really got around to find out what I had to say on the matter.”

“And?” Klyker prodded.

He leaned his head back towards the ceiling. “I wanted to go home. It was a bloody ten-year struggle. Friend and enemy dying alike. I was tired of watching the people I knew taken away from me. If I carried it out, I would get to see my wife again. Return to my farm and live out the rest of my days.”

Lt. Commander Klyker listened in understanding. The man watched Samir intently, without ever taking his gaze off him.

Captain Singh looked at the stars. “I didn’t know Canna would come back with me. I saw it always. On my farm, in my home, even when I look at those stars passing by. All I ever see is Canna.” Singh stared with dead eyes into the void. “But tell me, you’re young. What do you see when you look out there?” He pointed out to the swirling light.

“Narum,” Klyker whispered, “my home.”

Samir gave a warm smile. “That’s a good thing to think of.”

Klyker sighed, and the man leaned forward. He rubbed his hands together, and a look of regret came across his face. A moment passed in silence before he turned to Singh.

“I need to clear something between us, Captain.”

Samir raised an eyebrow.

Klyker took a deep breath. “Narum is a dying protectorate. We only have a few star systems, and that was before the Free Exchange started rolling back our infrastructure. They won’t repair the Space Gate. They intend to starve us out and then let other protectorates take our homeland.”

“I’m sorry,” Captain Singh said.

“What I’m trying to say is that I’ve worked my way through the reserve fleet to save my people. Once I reach the High Board, I’ll have the power to save Narum. Nothing can get in the way of the success of this mission. Absolutely nothing.”

Klyker looked at Singh with a serious expression. Samir himself knew exactly what the Lt. Commander was saying. The interests of the Free Exchange had to come before all in Klyker’s mind. There was no other way. Such conversations happened frequently in the reserve fleet, whether or not a subordinate’s duty was to the captain or to the Exchange.

This was Klyker placing himself clearly on one side of that line. While Singh hated that such a dilemma was necessary, there wasn’t much he could do about it now.

“Let’s hope it never comes to that,” Samir answered.

“I just felt it was prudent to let you know exactly where my loyalties lay.” Klyker lowered his head, and Samir could detect a faint trace of shame.

“A man must follow his conscience.” Samir lifted his hand. “You have my respect for that, but I will warn you we must also bear the consequences of those decisions.”

Klyker gratefully shook his hand. “Thank you, Captain. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”