The Master of All Paths

by Steve Rimpici

The Path of Order

  Marshall SmitMar Nala of the Fol Conglomerate looked at the view screen into the smug, handsome face of Captain G’Leo Rica.  Rica was a pretty boy and the Marshall hated pretty boys.  Handsome, vain and egocentric, the Marshall kept his comments to himself and tolerated him since the Captain consistently beat quota.

  After too many moments staring at the empty chair on the bridge, the perfectly groomed image of G’Leo Rica filled the screen.  “Captain, report.”

  “Marshall Nala, I have completed our last mission - successfully of course. The very sight of the Reisik and knowledge of its captain was enough to persuade the savages of the Parnat Alliance to sign a trade agreement with the Tarzees.  We will get 10% of the gross and I’ll expect my commission in my account by the end of the day.”  He paused for a moment.  Was he expecting applause?  “What is my next mission, sir?”

  “I will get back to you tomorrow with a new assignment.  Nala out.”

  The short exchange with Rica left the Marshall feeling drained.   His head started pounding and he felt dizzy.  “Remember your breathing exercises,” Nala said to himself.  Rica’s pompous nature, flashy image and huge ego had no place in Nala’s universe.  Even Rica’s ship, the Reisik, annoyed him.  The Reisik was the largest ship in the fleet (though certainly not the most powerful), and was ornately colored to look jewel-encrusted.  He could feel the anger growing within him as he thought of the grossly embellished stories G’Leo Rica told clients, and yet somehow always got away looking clean. The bastard was a great earner but he knew Rica’s pride would ultimately kill him.  That thought made him smile and with a deep breath he pushed Rica from his mind.

  He hit a button on his console and turned off the view screen.  The sight of the Reisik would only annoy him.  Nala left the bridge leaving his XO in command.   On his walk back to his quarters he seriously contemplated retirement.  SmitMar Nala was an older man who worked his way up through vast bureaucracy of the Fol Conglomerate.  Exploiting the inefficiencies of such a large management structure was easy but over the last 38.6 years, Nala made it his mission to inject order into the chaos.  With order came efficiency and with efficiency came profit.  Under his command the Conglomerate’s profits grew 243.35% and represented 89 different systems with 227 worlds.  Nala had his official contract which provided some income, but as the man who created many of the Rules of Engagement and Standard Operating Procedures, he guaranteed that the profits of his side organizations would allow him the luxury to live the rest of his life in the manner in which he had become accustomed.

  Nala arrived at his quarters where the meticulous arrangement of everything comforted him. “Order in life. Order in love. Order in work.”, was not only the motto that hung on his wall, it was his driving force.  Nala opened his closet and pulled out a fresh uniform for the evening. Like everything else, his closet was organized and neat.  Each item hung exactly five centimeters from the next and was arranged by the date and times to be worn.

  Relaxing at his desk, Marshall Nala thought back on his life and career.  After careful analysis, he confirmed his only two shortcomings had to do with his former wife, Lameli, and G’Leo Rica.  Shortly after marrying Lameli, Nala found that his wife created a wave of chaos in the order of his life.  After several scheduled meetings with her to discuss how she could improve herself, Lameli went back home to live with her mother.  Being the good leader he was, Nala sent a presentation and spreadsheets to Lameli, detailing exactly how to fix their marriage.  Nala received her reply shortly thereafter; a booby-trapped package containing thousands of shredded papers, including his spreadsheets and their marriage contract, which exploded in his quarters causing a huge mess.  He never heard from her again.  In her absence, order returned so now G’Leo Rica remained as the sole source of disarray.  He decided to fix that.

  The swirling, frenzied questions and thoughts about Rica coalesced into a beautifully simple solution and Nala knew what Rica’s next assignment would be.  The great Captain G’Leo Rica would engage the Kersh.  Everyone knew of the Kersh’s xenophobic tendencies and penchant for brutality, but equally known was Rica’s ego could win over logic.  If Rica somehow succeeded in getting a contract with the Kersh, Nala would get a huge bonus and retire.  If he did not succeed or refused, Rica would be disgraced – or worse – and order would be restored.  The plan was logical and had no downside for him.

  Marshall Nala awoke the next morning feeling refreshed and ready to face the day.  He placed his worn bedclothes into the bin marked “Soiled Bed Wear”, followed his morning rituals and then reached into his closet and put on a fresh uniform.

  He walked with a renewed vigor to the command post. “Marshall on the Post!”, his Executive Officer yelled.  The crew snapped instantly to attention.

  “Get me the Reisik.”

  “Good morning Marshall.” He said as though quite disinterested.

  “Captain Rica, I have a new assignment for you but I am reluctant to present it.  It is very”, he paused for effect, “delicate.”

  Rica’s image perked up. “Marshall, tell me your orders.  You know I’m up for any task.”

  “This is not an order.  You are free to decline this offer without repercussion.”  Nala knew Rica would never live it down if he declined. “The Conglomerate needs a big contract in order to make its yearly quota.  I want to get a trade agreement with the Kersh.”  Several junior officers gasped on the command post.

  “The Kersh sir?”  Rica’s voice cracked and his smug face lost some of its luster.  Was that a bead of sweat on his face?   Nala enjoyed every second of this.

  “Yes Captain.  The Kersh.”  He sweetened the pot.  “You know Captain, I am retiring very soon.  A contract with the Kersh would mean a great deal to the Conglomerate and a huge bonus for me.  For the one who brokers the deal, well, the rewards would be great.  Wealth for sure, fame – absolutely.  Perhaps even a promotion to fill the spot of a retired Marshall.”

  He could sense the fear of the officers on Rica’s bridge but was positive their Captain already pictured himself in a Marshall’s uniform.

  Rica composed himself and spoke.  “I accept your offer Marshall.   Thank you for the opportunity.”

  “Very good Captain Rica.  I expect a report and a new contract shortly.  Nala out.”

  SmitMar Nala looked about at the shocked faces of his crew.  “We must have order for the Fol Conglomerate to grow.  Any block to that order must be eliminated,” he was about to end his sentence but seeing the nervousness of his officers he continued, “and the Kersh are a roadblock to that order and our success.  I have no doubt that Captain Rica will perform exactly to my expectations.”

  Captain Rica sent one report stating he was about to enter orbit around the Kersh planet, Geeshna.  He was never heard from again.

  Four weeks later at the retirement party, the Fol Conglomerate’s Board of Elders gave Nala a gold chronometer and a plaque commemorating his years of service.  At his palatial estate on Sternibrad’s Pleasure Planet, SmitMar Nala placed them in their pre-assigned spots on his shelf.