Erika was growing tired of holding her hands in the air. Seven crewmen surrounded the small group, all aiming their weapons at them while Amos talked to the Captain. It was a trifling, although tedious, matter to cut through the reinforced door. She knew Amos would tell his men not to fire. After all, he had his own suspicions about Singh. He would want to hear them out.

She glanced up to the second floor where Amos was in one of the four stabilizer arms of the gravity core. Standing in the small glass room, the man paced back and forth as he talked. She caught glances towards them as the man looked increasingly agitated.

“What makes you think that Captain Singh will tell him the truth?” Klyker asked quietly, taking a small step towards her.

“His religious convictions won’t allow him to do otherwise,” Erika whispered back.

“You seem sure of that. There’s a lot at stake here. Our lives included.”

She hid a private grin. To Klyker, this must’ve seemed like a bold move. Handing themselves over to a man who was ostensibly working for the Captain must’ve looked like madness. But for her, it was nothing more than a mundane mathematical equation. The hierarchy of the ship was transitioning, and soon certain variables were going to be removed.

Erika saw Amos click off his personal comm. The man took a moment alone in the small room before walking out and leaning on the railing overlooking them. There were a number of engineers around them who watched silently, waiting for what the man had to say.

“You were right,” Amos addressed Erika, “Captain.”

The men surrounding them lowered their weapons, and Erika gratefully let her arms down. Nothing more than a calculation. She thought, almost bored that the excitement was over. The outcome had happened at long last.

She recalled what Tannis had handed her on the data pad back on Ghenus. The difference between Samir and Amos was an almost imperceptible one. Both had much of the same tendencies. However, the former captain was a man of morals. He’d do whatever was in his code of ethics, whatever the cost. Amos was a slightly more pragmatic man.

Tannis had given her a few audio files shortly before the launch. It was nothing too important, just checking to make sure the relationship developed as it should. Amos wanted to “wash the blood off the family name”. While Samir took that as a statement of principle, in reality, it was a statement of intent.

Amos wanted to save the galaxy. He wanted the Singh name to be remembered differently. To do that meant people knowing what he did. He needed the galaxy to know that the Singh name had been redeemed, and that required him returning triumphant. And so buried in Amos was the slightest inclination towards the Free Exchange. This tiny fracture was another almost indiscernible difference in most situations. However, to anyone who knew it was there, it was the perfect lever to split the two apart.

The Chief Engineer might have held similar morals to the Captain, but those things were flexible. Whichever option fit his goal, he would justify with the proper reasoning. Meanwhile, those same morals would act as his camouflage to the Captain. It built an implicit trust in an untrustworthy source. Right until the moment the knife plunged down.

Again, there were a million ways this could’ve played out, depending on what they had found at the beacon. All it took was knowing that the lever existed and applying it where needed. She had to give credit to Glen Tannis. The system was so expertly designed that she hardly needed to lift a finger.

Even if by some accident that she had been removed from the equation, the result would have been the same. Amos would’ve had always held his suspicions against the Captain and always would’ve turned against him eventually if Samir hadn’t done what was in the Free Exchange’s best interest.

One crewman rushed into the room. Catching his breath, he reported to Amos. “It’s just like Commander Terese said! The Captain was trying to pump the air with carbon dioxide. We shut it down right after he activated diagnostic level three.”

Captain Terese closed her eyes. Almost like clockwork. She warned Amos before he began his conversation with Samir. The men were set to work long before the Captain ever gave the order. In the end, the battle was over long before it began. She was almost disappointed that Samir couldn’t have come up with any other tricks.

It was sometimes a frustrating reality for her. Every day she saw people go by unassuming in their own freedom. They believed they were beings of total control. Every action theirs to take. When in reality, it was all a matter of calculation. They played out their lives—their narratives—and the conclusion might as well have been written in stone. And for Terese, she always knew the ending. For her, the story was going through the motions. Though she couldn’t complain about the results.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Captain?” Amos asked her. “What do we do next?”

“Let’s not waste anymore time,” she told him. “Give me your communicator. It’s time to finish this.”

Amos tossed the device down, and she clicked the button. Putting her hand on her hip, she turned away and spoke. “We’ve already disabled life support. You’ve lost, Captain.”

She waited a moment, knowing that Captain Singh had left his comm on. Erika knew that he hoped Amos would change his mind.

“Commander,” Samir acknowledged.

“You had me surprised with the plan to send the derelict off. I didn’t figure it out until you locked down the Hyperion. Forgive me, but I thought that was too insane, even for you.” Erika glanced over at Klyker.

Now that the battle with Singh had been finished, her mind ran the calculations for him. The next step was figuring out how to wrest away the derelict from the Hyperion. He and Amos would try to deliver the vessel back to the Free Exchange. Obviously, that was something she couldn’t allow.

Erika didn’t doubt for a moment that the two would try to come up with their own tricks. Even if the crew deemed it safe enough to go into stasis, one or both of them would probably tamper with her pod. A bridge to cross for later. She thought mildly.

“You haven’t won yet,” Captain Singh tried to make an empty threat, although even he couldn’t hide the desperation of a lost man from his voice.

“No, I think we have,” Erika talked down to him. “You’re out of options. Or did you forget the one weapon engineering can fire?”

“You wouldn’t destroy the derelict.”

“I don’t need to destroy it. A small black hole would cause significant enough damage to the FTL drives while remaining too unstable to consume the ship. I don’t want to activate the gravity core, but I will if you force my hand. You can either surrender, or we can do it the hard way. Your choice.”

There was no response on the other end. Erika imagined what it was like for the defeated man. He was inches away from victory, only to have it swept away. She could sympathize with that, but not enough to take pity on him. Captain Singh had interrupted her work, cost her time with the entity. That was unforgivable.

And so she enjoyed herself. Every victory had been handed to her. Every triumph had been given to her from the moment the Hyperion had set off. The battle was set and fought and lost before the Captain had even made his speech at that ceremony all those years ago.

“Captain!?” she raised her voice.

“What are your demands?” The man sounded broken on the other end.

“You will lift the lockdown sequence. All your marines are to hand their weapons over to the civilian crew and agree to be detained. You will stand down as captain and be escorted to your quarters. Do you understand?”

“… I understand.”

She held out the device as if holding victory in her hands. “Then give the order.”

Erika might have been bored by the proceedings, but even she had to admit she enjoyed that part. She clicked off the personal communicator and threw it back up to Amos. “He’s coming down to engineering.”

Amos caught it with surprise. “What makes you think that?”

“Our Captain is a warrior. He’s not going to accept defeat any other way but face to face.” Erika turned to Klyker. “Gather some men and meet him.”

The Lt Commander—or rather Commander—nodded and waved his arm at the men who had once been holding guns at them. Three engineers followed him out of the door and into the hallway.

“Start powering the gravity core for firing. I don’t want to take any chances if he’s suicidal enough to turn this into a fight.” She gave the order to the engineers, and they quickly rushed to work.

“Do you really think he’s crazy enough to try that?” Amos asked, leaning on the rail.

Erika looked up at him. “Knowing the Captain, he might. Not that it will make any difference. He is the only thing holding his men together. If he winds up getting himself killed, then the rest will surrender. Though I think once he sees the reality for himself, he’ll make the reasonable choice.”

“Promise me he’ll be treated fairly.”

Erika looked up at Amos in surprise. There was some genuine concern in his face that demanded a respectful answer. Although he held his resentment towards the Captain, there was still some deference buried in there. Samir Singh had that tendency to inspire that in people.

“He’s a good man. Misguided, but still good,” Amos said. “He doesn’t deserve what’s coming.”

Erika knew what Amos was talking about. The Captain’s actions would take him to the High Court for treason against the galaxy. Usually, that was only reserved for protectorates who were skirting the line of galactic law, but a few individuals made it over the centuries. Needless to say, the man would be crucified.

Every single person in the Free Exchange would spit upon him for all time to come. Even if he didn’t get the death penalty—which at that point might be a mercy—he would be sent into exile to some barren planet with nothing but the essentials to survive.

And Amos Singh would be raised to a hero. She didn’t doubt that the Free Exchange would reward him greatly. The luxuries of the galaxy would be available to him, and he would have the adoration of trillions. The Singh name would be remembered for saving the Milky Way.

Well, if I don’t get my way, that is. She thought.

“I will do my best.” Erika lied and crossed her arms as she turned to the mangled door they had cut through. “It’s a shame that history doesn’t remember us for our intentions, only what we’ve done.”