The StarMaster's Son

by Gibson Morales

  The message received a massive amount of approval points.

  "Which brings us back to the question," Xerix said. "Can we count on the use of the Nassatar?"

  Felik didn't see any way around it. He was the Envoy of the quadrant and he possessed its best warship.

  "You can," he said.

  "We appreciate your commitment," Oberon said. "Steeger, ready for another operation?"

  Steeger grinned. "I was getting bored drinking on Nebiru. I may have one or two conditions, but yeah. I'm in."

  Oberon and Xerix made a few closing statements and the session ended.

  Back on his grassy planetoid of a command sphere, Felik bought himself a dreamer sim to take the edge off from the circus he'd just witnessed. In this dreamer, the StarMaster never died. Instead, Felik served as his Chief Philosopher for centuries.

  "Any new orders, Captain?" Minerva asked when the dreamer finished.

  He remembered Juliard asking him if he felt like the captain. He didn't. "Can you review this breaker?" Oberon wanted him to link to it before he received the data node of their mission. Generally, breakers worked as one-way contracts. If you were planning to renege on a deal, the breaker implanted in your core alerted the other party. The other party then possessed a semblance of control over you—particularly your ability to feel pain. And if you managed to violate your contract, it could corrupt your core.

  "It checks out," she said a few seconds later. As his personal protocol, she had access to legal knowledge, effectively letting her act as his adjudicator, too. All that, for free.

  The breaker forbade him from speaking of the forthcoming mission details to anyone outside his crew. It was temporary and would expire after their operation ended, or in ten sols. Whichever came first.

  Felik parsed the data node with the mission details and stumbled, feeling nauseous despite his synthetic frame not being capable of vomiting.

  "Felik," Minerva said.

  "No!" Ilder cried in a way that came off as melodramatic.

  He waved them off and regained his footing. It was the emotional info in the data node that screwed him up. The sick sensation passed after a few seconds. Dread lingered.

  "I'm alright," Felik grumbled. "It's..."

  Juliard appeared a few feet away. She parsed the data node and didn't flinch. "Did you think you were just going to fly in there and wipe out those evil Wraiths?"

  An urgent request for a meeting from Hayland appeared in Felik's feed. He imagined his uncle would try to justify what he'd parsed. Felik wasn't in the mood to listen. He noticed that Oberon had sent his own request and decided it best to appease him.

  He swiveled toward Juliard and squared his shoulders. "If you'd been at the assembly you would've known that I spoke out against this. I don't like them, but they don't deserve this. And not the way the data node shows it."

  "It wouldn't be wise to back out of the operation now. You're committed," Minerva said.

  "I can at least try to change it," he said, accepting Oberon's chat request.

  A dimly lit observation pod replaced the command sphere. Beyond the glass walls, thousands of support stations surrounded him, and hundreds of thousands of tiny combat peripherals and support machinery littered the space among them (his nexus tagged the occasional writhing, folding plasma ball masses as Wenysh vessels). Even more, he marveled at the flotilla of warships, absorbing the peripherals and support machinery as clouds of smart dust.

  His nexus informed him with a text tag that this was only a portion of Oberon's fleet. That knowledge both amazed and frightened him.

  And he would gain access to an even larger armada if he became the StarMaster.

  Suddenly, he noticed Oberon standing next to him.

  "What do you think of it?" Oberon asked.

  "Will you be sending this on the Wraith assault?"

  Oberon smiled. "That won't be necessary. Especially with the Nassatar's combat scripts. I've heard they are some of the finest. Designed by alien minds that would put ours to shame."

  Felik didn't want to admit he wasn't sure. The ship had been hijacked from the Minds of Errukav elite fleet and retrofitted for less advanced Terran usage. Yet it could fully utilize the technological advantages. "We'll get a much better idea of that soon."

  "It's a shame you're so young. If you'd been a few decades older, you and I might have known each other a lot better."

  "Why's that?"

  Oberon's laugh told him it was a stupid question. "I heard you had a neural virus, but I thought you'd find the resolve to suppress it around me. The Telchines, the species that raised you, have historically served as close allies of the Anunnaki. The species that raised me."

  Felik bit his lip, trying not to express his shame. "Oh, that."

  "Yes, that. In any case, it's good that we can carry on the legacy. Now, I requested this chat to clear the air between us. Should I consider it cleared?"

  "I don't mean to question whatever battle protocols you're using, but I parsed the operation's data node."

  "War is rarely pretty."

  "This isn't war, though. You're...you're going to frame the Wraiths and attack them based on that."

  Using psionic infiltrators, the Watchers would provoke a rebellious lust in the Wraiths that they would inevitably succumb to. Once they did, the Watchers would have to put down their rebellion. It was exactly the kind of evil scheme Landi had accused many networks of on the scholar realms. The kind of deception Felik would stop if he ever became the Chief Philosopher. Meaning he shouldn't go along with this. But if he didn't, he might very well lose this ship and he had a feeling he needed it to figure out who killed the StarMaster.

  "Presently, the Saganerio network starkeepers won't accept a direct attack on the Wraiths. That means we have to create an unofficial reason to attack them. There will be whispers and accusations, but no proof. That's exactly what we want."

  It's not what I want. "Does everyone agree with this? The other Watchers starkeepers?"

  "In a short answer, yes. They understand the reasons for this, and they want the same outcome as I do."

  Felik issued a long breath. "Change the strategy or I won't be a part of this operation."

  Oberon rolled his eyes. "You're okay with the operation so long as we attack the Wraiths in a less deceitful manner. That's a little arbitrary, don't you think?"

  "I'm nuanced like that."

  "I see. Between the rumors about me in the Free Minds and the death of our father, there must be a lot of questions you want answered. It's a confusing time. We are all being asked to do things we would never expect to. I don't want you losing your ship on this operation to be the first step in losing your loyalty. Let's try this: I will consider your thoughts on the mission. And you ask your XO why she chose to stay on that ship."

  The construct ended, as the Nassatar's grassy planetoid command sphere materialized under him. He didn't know if he should feel good or bad about the conversation.

  "Tell me you didn't just speak with Oberon," Hayland said. Felik whipped around, surprised to find him on a knee by the garden, examining a yellow bulb plant. "Who let you in?"

  "Your ship has a mind of its own," Juliard said.

  Felik turned to her and forced a grin. "That was a good pun." It really wasn't. But he needed to lighten the tension from his uncle's sudden appearance.

  Ironically, Hayland lumbered over to him and stared hard. "Has your neural virus been acting up lately? I told you not to upset Oberon."

  Oberon must've been messaging his uncle right now about their talk.

  "He's a bully. You only have to stand up to them to beat them."

  It wasn't the first time he'd had to stand up to one of his brothers. Flashes of his time with the Darwinist network swirled in his head.

  Hayland cast his head from side to side. "No. I was a bully. My brother...he was never that type. Neither is Oberon. He's something worse."

  "Then you probably can't protect me from him," Felik said d
ully. "Listen, everything's going to be fine."

  "How can you be so paranoid and naive at the same time? You believe in all these rumors you read on the InfiNet, but you don't believe in the threat right in front of your face."

  Felik smiled to hide back his resentment at that. "Because if I am crazy then there's nothing to worry about in this universe. And if there is something to worry about, I'm not crazy. Either way, I'm right."

  "Or either way you're wrong."

  The words hung in the air. Felik's face tightened bitterly. "Will you get off my ship?"

  "They want it," Hayland said like it was a profound statement.

  "They won't get it, right?" Felik cocked his head at Minerva.

  "No, Captain."

  A hint of disappointment lingered in Hayland's eyes before he left. "There's still a lot you don't know about this universe."

  Chapter 24

  FELIK

  The new Envoy is a real scumbag. That's what Megas said in response to news that Felik was willing to use the Nassatar aggressively.

  Somehow the news had gotten out. Had it been a genuine accidental leak or an intentional one from a supposed ally?

  He couldn't be sure, though he suspected Xerix and a couple other Watchers. Yet throwing around accusations seemed foolish so close to the battle. He needed to focus on the operation to come, not foster animosity with political adversaries. His karma had already taken enough of a hit.

  "From now on, it would be best to allow me to share your nexus access whenever you have a conversation with important sapients," Minerva said.

  After dismissing his uncle, he'd entered sleep mode. The consequences of his actions were only now sinking in. Not direct consequences perhaps. But the effects of karma. Karma in the old sense of an intangible force that decided your fate for better or worse, not karma from the karma pylons.

  "Doesn't take a sophont to figure out that your uncle's on your side," Juliard said, snacking on some crackers. "You shouldn't have made him leave."

  "He's been on my side for twenty solar cycles. A lot of good that's done me."

  "Didn't he rescue you from the Darwinist network?" She asked it more tenderly than he would've thought. Almost like she didn't mean to bother him but wasn't sure how to be gentle.

  Felik looked to Minerva. "Before I went to sleep, you said you had an idea."

  "Yes. For future protections, I'd suggest we set you up with a shell company. You can then run this ship as a private venture and no one will be the wiser," Minerva said.

  "So, I'd be a mercenary?"

  "In a sense."

  "I like the sound of that. Yeah. Let's do it. And I want my network meme to be, 'Don't be evil.'"

  "You really think Arteyos wanted you to run merc missions with his flagship?" Juliard said, her expression skeptical. Felik wondered if he'd ever gain her trust or respect. There was no way he could directly ask her the question Oberon told him to.

  "It's as plausible as any other reason, isn't it?"

  "I was being rhetorical. He wouldn't, okay? The StarMaster actually hated the fact that Xerix allowed Old Terra's AI to turn into a giant mercenary service."

  "Yeah, well, the Union Omega's made use of them plenty of times, hasn't it?"

  Shortly before the Great Cosmic Wars, AI on Old Terra known as the Glen had been rapidly outpacing humanity in everything. Thankfully, the Great Cosmic Wars forced a truce. Later, humanity convinced the Glen to cap their computational growth at the same rate as everyone else. In exchange, the AI kept Old Terra and its solar system and got the monopoly on selling their mass-produced machines. Whenever a conflict broke out, large or small, they sold weapons to whoever could afford it.

  Heck, they'd be launching with some Glen-built ships in this battle.

  For all the regret Felik felt at kicking his uncle off his ship, Oberon had at least changed his mind about the operation's primary tactics.

  According to a new data node, there would be no instigation of a revolt from the Wraiths. No false flag. Only a simple blockade around the Wraiths' planet. More symbolic than practical, especially with the Nassatar involved. If the Wraiths acted aggressively that would be their choice.

  Ilder interjected. "Captain, the Alcubierre drive is on standby. All fuel cells and reactor cells calibrated. Preliminary combat protocols and scripts have been compiled and we've received an update from Operational Commander Steeger."

  "What's she have to say?"

  "She wishes to remind you of her condition."

  The condition was referring to a thought bubble sent to him earlier that work cycle. She would lead the operation if he flew unlinked to the karma pylons. One life. Of course, the Green Devil wasn't serious. But she knew how to rub him the wrong way.

  "Hey Ilder, I've decided what color I want this ship's mecha frame to be."

  "Polka-dot kaiju-intestine neon blue over blood red?"

  "Wasn't planning to. Does it come in green?" Not that he was serious or that they'd need to deploy the mecha that came with the Nassatar.

  A full sol had passed since Steeger had given the Wraiths an ultimatum. No time at all in the greater scheme of the universe. No time to New Terrans who could live potentially forever. Yet one sol closer to the finality of the Big Crunch triggered by the Minds of Errukav at the end of the Great Cosmic Wars.

  The universe is collapsing, he thought. Like his own life. For the sake of many other lives, he prayed the operation went well. Then maybe he could figure out how the StarMaster died.

  Their fleet warped in a few trillion miles from planet Wraith and cruised toward it at a fraction of the speed of light. They hadn't psi.linked yet, and there was little chance of the enemy assaulting them. To keep his mind busy, Felik ran through the plan again.

  The composition of this squadron was mostly defensive probes and roughly a hundred omega-class vessels. Hardly a typical combat formation. But they weren't planning to engage. Only to blockade Wraith. Any attempts to break through violently would be stopped violently. The entire operation would be nothing more than a show of force. That's what he hoped.

  More than the recent drop in karma, the fact that so many despised his tolerance of this military operation depressed him. He'd wrestled with the idea of trying to clarify the situation with a media stream announcement. But his breaker and Oberon's consort's control over the media prevented that.

  There likely wasn't a way to come out of this a hero. What worried him more was coming out of this as a victim. His uncle knew Oberon better than he did, and he'd seemed genuinely concerned for Felik's well being.

  he sent to Minerva.

 

  from Steeger. He invited her to a construct chat, and her avatar appeared on his command sphere. She glanced at the oak tree and pond. "As usual, a politician fucked us."

  "In what way?"

  Steeger's face lit up. "In what way? Try our data being altered." She tossed Felik a data node. Apparently, a subordinate of Chief Xenobiologist Iglione's government mind had accidentally overwritten archival updates and allowed it to be compiled. Several high order members of Iglione's mind were Saganerio loyalists, so it didn't surprise him that now their data on Wraith was entirely wrong.

  Expect the unexpected, Hayland told him once, regarding combat.

  "The planet's been abandoned?" Felik asked. That was less than ideal. Thanks to the data mishap, their protocols wrongly assumed the Wraiths weren't capable of interstellar travel.

  "Question is where the hell did they go? Right now the Saganerio starkeepers are trying to withhold surveillance data. We'll probably arrive at Wraith before our adjudicators get it."

  "How much does this change the operation?"

  "It doesn't. You keep following my orders, and there won't be any issues."

  Was this a trick on Oberon's part? Something to force violence?

  "Yeah, roger that," Felik said. The Green Devil shimmered out, and he consulted Minerva
.

  "I can't give you an easy answer. Our best bet is to gather more intel," she said.

  In short order, they reached Wraith and the fleet probes measured the planet with their godwebs. They determined that the Wraiths had only recently left the planet upon noticing their approach. They didn't have the surveillance data yet, though.

  Twenty minutes later, Steeger invited Felik to another construct chat. He accepted and discovered himself inside a small stark white space with an empty chair. Felik put his arms out and stepped back in concern. "What is this? Some kind of interrogation?"

  "It's not for you," Steeger said, clearly relishing his shock. "I've invited the avatar of the ship that was orbiting Wraith. We're going to find out why he didn't update us."

  A brown-haired man appeared in front of the chair, his face red and flustered. "Hey, what am I doing here? This is harassment."

  Steeger swooped in and shoved him into the chair. "Everyone knows I write code, but few know that I create viruses specifically for construct manipulation. You've just been infected with one."

  The man struggled to get out of the chair even though nothing was physically keeping him there. "I'm calling my adjudicator. You can't do this to me."

  "Is this legal?" Felik breathed. Steeger didn't bother answering. And based on the construct details, the captive couldn't perceive Felik or Minerva.

  The man swallowed several times, blinking quickly. "You're abducting me."

  Felik's eyes dimmed as he thought back to his own abduction.

  Steeger backhanded him. "If it makes you feel any better, you won't even remember this. Now let's cut to the chase. Where did the Wraiths go? You were in charge of monitoring their planet, but you didn't update the Imperial Infantry."

  "I don't know. I do take sleep cycles, and I haven't updated myself with the feeds yet."

  "Except that you weren't in sleep mode when they left. I'll make this simple. You parsed those recent leaks about Oberon?"

  "Yeah."

  "Who do you think helps carry out the core extractions?"