Chapter 8
Change of Direction

“It’s no longer necessary for us to go to Heartland,” Vathion announced as he stepped onto the bridge. “We’ll be going to Marak instead.” Vathion yawned behind his hand, aware of Gatas's scowl, but choosing to ignore it as he dropped into his seat.

Wo'Chira and Li'Codas actually turned to look at him. Fae'Erekdra picked under her nails with a nail file, partially turned in her seat, legs crossed.

Ma’Gatas growled. “Would you make up your mind? First Kimidas, then Heartland, now Marak! What do you want at Marak anyway?”

Smiling coldly, Vathion settled back in his chair and pulled his ankle up onto the other knee. “Well, you bitched so much about Kimidas, have you changed your mind? We could still go there, you know. However, the Emperor called last night and I straightened things out with him. He’s ordered us to Marak, which is where we’re going.”

Puffing his cheeks, Gatas finally said, “Fine. I guess it’s better than Kimidas.”

Blinking, Vathion looked at Gatas then shrugged; as if he could care less about his second in command’s opinions on their destination, but it was surprising to have the man just agree. Vathion twitched his elevated foot. “Ca’Bibbole!” he commanded with a smirk, “Inform the Fleet and Station that we’re putting out and heading to Marak.”

Nodding, the Hyphokos did his job. “Station confirms, normal undocking procedures commencing.” Giving a nod to the navigation officer, Erekdra spun her chair around to face her station and got to work.

Vathion was so tired that he was starting to feel loopy; he had neglected to eat any breakfast and forgotten that he had not eaten dinner the night before, and if he had thought about it, he would have realized why he felt so fried. Instead, he found himself thinking about his father and how he died and what he could have been doing down in the spare parts hold. He kicked the floor again, sending his chair into another series of spins.

Cargo Bay Four was full of crates, not used for anything but storage. Great place to murder someone, except his father was not stupid enough to walk down there and let someone murder him. So what had been the point of going down there? Why had I’Savon broken the law and created a clone of Natan? Partial cloning was commonly used for organ and limb replacements, but making a complete body had a lot of ethical issues attached. After all, if the doctor creating it intended it to be a living person, they had to start the brain functioning during the embryonic stage, but if it were to be a real person, then who was obligated to take care of it? True, having a clone of someone like Natan mentally awake and at the age of twenty would be interesting, but it would not know anything if Savon used growth enhancement to bring it to that age. Letting it grow up naturally would take too long for it to be of any use in the near future. On the other hand, if she had left it without a mind, then what use was it? It would just be an empty husk. Then there was the issue of slavery...

“Ha’Vathion!”

Setting his feet down to stop his spinning, Vathion blinked. Turning his head, the young admiral looked back at his bridge crew, who were staring at him with pale faces and wide eyes. “Whut?” he asked innocently.

“Where’d you hear that song?” Codas asked, breaking the silence.

Looking away, then turning his chair around, Vathion flashed a grin, “Sorry, didn’t get much sleep last night. I was singing?”

Bibbole flicked his ears, “Yes... Not loudly, but we could hear it,” he informed the admiral. “Not that you’re a bad singer or anything, certainly a hell of a lot better than your father, but where did you learn that?”

Vathion shook his head, “I didn’t realize I was singing.” He started spinning his chair the other direction, lifting his hands over his head and calling, “Wheeee!”

Gatas covered his face with one hand as Wo’Chira spoke the general thought in the room, “I’m not sure which is worse. You acting completely opposite Ha’Natan, or your acting just like him. Ha’Vathion, do us a favor, make sure you get a good night’s rest from here on out.”

Laughing, Vathion gave a kick to set his chair spinning and agreed, “Okie!”

Gatas winced, “There goes hoping that the insanity wasn’t inherited.”

Thumping his feet on the floor, Vathion lifted a hand, swirling a finger in the air, “I’m not insane!” he defended, “You’re just an old stiff. One foot in the grave already, that’s your problem.” He got stared at with open mouths and expressions much like the ones Zandre and Logos had worn when he had suggested the restaurant the other day. Déjà Voodoo again, he supposed.

“Ha’Vathion, hail from Da’Bur on the Vathion,” Bibbole reported after a moment.

Lowering his hand, Vathion put it on the hilt of his baton as he got to his feet. “Front screen.”

Da’Bur was a woman of short stature. She had pale brown - almost yellow - hair and eyes, though streaks of gray starting at her temples swept back through her shoulder length hair and suffused the underside. Her face was square and heavy, as age had not been very kind to her, giving her wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, though Vathion knew from his game that she had a very good sense of humor and those wrinkles were from laughing. “Ha’Vathion.” She saluted crisply, almond-shaped eyes flicking towards Gatas as he scowled at her.

“Da’Bur,” Vathion said, giving a vague wave of a salute, “Gotta problem?”

Shaking her head, she took a breath, the back wall of her bridge visible behind her, though her bridge was quiet at the moment, “I’m calling to request a Captain’s meeting.”

Pursing his lips, Vathion glanced around his bridge, “Hmm, all right. Soon as we get out of the Baelton system traffic lanes I’ll call halt.”

Nodding, Da’Bur said, “Thank you, Ha’Vathion.” She paused, lips quirking slightly at the corners in her characteristic half-smirk, “So which ship is your favorite?” she asked.

Flipping a hand dramatically, Vathion laid it upon his chest. “Why, the one named after me, of course!”

Laughing, Da’Bur shook her head, “Flatterer. Good to see that you’re not the stick in the mud you seemed on the all-fleet announcement, Ha’Vathion.”

Shrugging, Vathion linked his hands behind his back, “I assure you, I take my duty seriously when I need to, but currently, there’s nothing important going on, so...”

“I see,” Da’Bur said, that smile still crinkling the corners of her eyes, and Vathion was all smiles back at her, feeling awful as he was reminded of all the problems he had to face. She asked, “Is there any way we can get Ha’Natan in on this conference too?”

The question stung, and he almost hesitated. But like his father had said. What did his personal feelings matter when he had a part to play?

Nothing.

So, he said, “Of course. He’ll be there. See ya soon.” He nodded to Bibbole and the channel was closed.

“Well? What’re you going to do now?” Gatas scowled, “You’ve got them all thinking that Natan’s on vacation and you just promised that he’d be there. You’re not going to have the AI fake him, are you? Kiti can’t do that. That AI might be good programming and almost lifelike, but there’s no way in hell Kiti could fake him without the others realizing what you’re doing!”

Turning that obnoxiously brainless smile towards Ma’Gatas, Vathion said, “You’ll just have to find out later.”

Gatas’s face flushed red with fury as Vathion took his seat and looked at the screen attached to a swiveling arm on his chair and pulled it forward over his lap and decided to try something that he had been able to do on Battle Fleet. Although, what he was attempting had been accomplished with a visor. All he’d had to do was think about where he wanted to go and his character would move. It had worked in his room too when he had been updating his game and so he stared at his screen for a moment, and thought loudly, #Kiti, give me all the info we’ve got on the Marak system, from Rebel activity to who trades there on a regular basis.#

His screen lit up with text, and Vathion settled back while Gatas fumed at him loudly about being an insolent little brat. Deciding that the school cafeteria was more distracting, Vathion easily ignored the noise. As he had suspected, all the information in Battle Fleet had been current and up to date and he sped through the files.

Marak was a system full of asteroids and dust with a binary star, not good for much of anything except mining, which was what it was used for. Marak Station orbited near the center of the system, circling a large mass of rock that had no atmosphere. However, it was on the border between Imperial space and Rebel territory and had several shipyards and repair ports. It was relatively easy to infiltrate, due to the asteroid fields and mining craft that zipped back and forth through the system. Also, with Marak either out of commission or in Rebel hands, the Empire would be hard put to make new ships to replace the ones captured or destroyed, which would mean that the Empire was really on a downward slope towards defeat. In short, Marak was a very tasty target for Rebels, especially with Kimidas now officially owned by the Rebels.

"Officially" was the operative word. The West Wind’s defection had not been the cause of Kimidas’s fall at all. The station had been an underground Rebel supporter for years. Now that it was official, it could not sell Imperial information to the Rebels. Strategic loss. Vathion had found that out through Battle Fleet when he had played the Battle for Kimidas over and over and lost every time, no matter where he put his fleet. The West Wind and her fleet always turned coat, too. Vathion could take the hint that the whole thing was staged.

Closing out his files, he stared off into space in thought. Gatas had finally shut up and sat down, writing a report on his screen. Curious, Vathion flipped his screen back on to take a look and found that Gatas was writing a report for the log book. Vathion tapped his finger against the edge of his screen in thought. The infraction was minor, not to mention pompous. He decided to do something about it. For a second, he hesitated. It would be rude to dress Gatas down in front of the other officers on the bridge.

#Freeze Ma’Gatas’s screen,# he ordered Kiti silently.

Gatas frowned and tapped a key a few times, then tried other keys, then banged on the keyboard. A new document opened, and Vathion typed directly onto Gatas’s screen, using one hand. “Thank you for your kind efforts, Ma’Gatas, but I believe that entries into the logbook are MY duty.”

Spinning his chair around the large second in command took a breath to raise his voice, but Erekdra announced, “Ha’Vathion, we’re now outside Baelton space.”

“What’s the scanner look like?” Vathion asked.

Codas reported, after doing a thorough check, “All clear. It’s just us out here, sir.”

Nodding, Vathion ordered, “Move us out of the traffic lanes. Bibbole, send an all ships notice for a Captain’s meeting at twelve-hundred for lunch.”

Vathion turned to Gatas with a smile. “You’re such a hard worker,” he said, “But I’m sure you could find the time to greet them as they come in, Ma’Gatas. I’ve a few things to attend to.” Standing, Vathion turned and headed towards the door, “Going on call from now until the meeting’s over.” The bridge door closed behind him and he stepped across the hall into his quarters. “Kiti, where’s Paymeh?”

“Right here,” Paymeh said, stepping out of the bedroom, drying his hair with a hyphokos-sized towel. Even Hyphokos bathed, after all.

Vathion eyed the Hyphokos. “First off, you’re going to answer some questions. Why is I’Savon making a clone of my father?”

Tail flicking, Paymeh cleared his throat. His eyes were fully ocean blue once again, without that edging of violet that had nearly drowned out the color when Vathion had first seen him - in that split second before the Hyphokos had merged with him in the shuttle bay. “Ha’Natan asked her to.” He shuffled, pulling the towel off his head and wrung it between his hands.

“Why?” Vathion loomed over the Hyphokos. Paymeh shrank down, ears flat against his back. The thought of physically hurting the lizard did cross his mind, but he did not think it was that great of an idea, despite how satisfying it would have been.

Looking away, Paymeh remained silent for a long moment, wringing the towel until it was tied in a tight wad but Vathion still did not avert his gaze. Instead, the young admiral stalked closer, standing over Paymeh. “He didn’t plan on really dying...” Paymeh finally said. “Cargo Bay Four was the perfect place to have a murder... just... his murderer moved before we were ready.”

Vathion breathed and sank to his knees. “So... he was going to use me and mom as bait to get whoever was after him to come out.”

Paymeh nodded. “Exactly so. He was going to lay low and come back when he had the information he needed - he was going to keep his promise and meet you finally!”

Slamming his fist on the carpet, Vathion shouted, “Jerk!” Taking a breath, he sat up, “but why did the letter say he had everything set up then? What was set up?”

Head hanging, Paymeh worked at untangling the towel and smoothing it out. “It was because Gatas sent it through Kiti. The Plan was supposed to go off shortly before you arrived. Gatas was supposed to hand the disk to you personally. He originally wrote the letter with something else in that spot, but since Gatas sent it through Kiti, and Natan told her that if it went through her, replace the code. Gatas sent the transport without telling Zandre or Logos, but Kiti informed them and held it long enough for Zandre to get on.”

Taking a shaky breath, Vathion shook his head, “If I’m going to find who did it, Paymeh, I need the information Dad had and retracing his steps will take too much time. But for now, I want you to go down to sickbay and get Dad’s ashes.”

Lifting his head, Paymeh leaned forward. “You come with me.”

Vathion snapped a hand up before Paymeh could continue and grabbed the Hyphokos’s jaw, “No,” he growled, “I don’t ... I won’t go down there, Paymeh. It’s hard enough sleeping in his bed.” Letting go and hoisting himself to his feet, Vathion shoved his hair back from his face, “I don’t want to get the full effect of his smell. Getting emotionally attached to an empty husk wouldn’t do a bit of good.”

“Vathion!” Paymeh protested, “But it’s not... That’s not it. Memory Lives On!”

Shaking his head, Vathion brushed his leggings off and turned, heading towards his study, “I gave you an order, Paymeh. And no matter what you Hyphokos think about death amongst yourselves, it doesn’t apply to Gilons. We can’t blend personalities like you do - otherwise there’d be none of this nonsense with the Emperor and his uncle Gelran.” Pausing, Vathion looked over his shoulder at the still and silent Hyphokos. “Do it now Paymeh. I’ve got a Captain’s meeting to attend in another fifteen minutes and I need those ashes.”

Glaring, Paymeh dropped the towel for the Daisybots to take and scurried out the door.

Taking a seat at his desk in the office, Vathion gave a flick of his hands to settle his sleeves back from his wrists and stated, “Kiti, I want surveillance on Gatas from now until I’m back on the bridge.”

“Okay, Stud Muffin!”

“I’m so reprogramming that,” Vathion muttered, but did not have time at the moment, so he opened his folder and took a quick look through it, deciding on how honest he wanted to be with his captains. Afterwards, he figured it would be safe to go check on Se’Mel and get an interrogation going.

* * *

Figuring that he had left his captains long enough - about a minute or two - Vathion stood and took a breath, straightening his uniform before picking up the sealed urn Paymeh had quietly set on his desk about five minutes ago. Vathion would have yelled at him about taking so long, but Paymeh had looked rather upset as it was, and so Vathion had decided to let him be for the time being. Next time he took forever at something, Vathion would nail him.

After delivering the ashes, Paymeh had merged with him, which was fine, but the young man was not going to put up with anything snide out of the lizard.

Lifting the urn in both hands, Vathion stared at it. “I’ll get them, Dad. But... Damn you!” he shouted, then closed his eyes with a sigh, tucking the urn against his chest in one hand while he headed through his quarters and out into the hall. Turning left, he strode around the bend to the conference room. Pausing at the door, he took a breath and checked his expression. It was suitably solemn, but also the one he usually wore.

Lifting his chin and setting his shoulders at a confident angle, he stepped in. His captains stood politely as he strode past them and carefully set the urn on the table, gesturing for them to take seats.

Slowly, confused, the captains sank back into their seats, staring at the urn, then at Vathion. “As promised,” he said softly, “Ha’Natan is attending the meeting.”

Jaws dropped and Vathion took a careful seat, folding his hands on the table in front of him, “I hope you can understand why I lied about my father’s current state of health. However, by his word and will, I am his heir. If you wish to have a copy of his will, then by all means, ask and I’ll send one to you, but understand that it’s confidential.” Da’Bur put her elbows on the table, hands covering her face, and she was not the only one overcome by emotion, Da’Yaun of the Midris sobbed, and then clapped a hand over his mouth. “I have to ask you though,” Vathion continued calmly, “If you could continue my cover-up. Ha’Natan was loved by many and any confirmation of his death would throw the Empire in chaos.”

“So that was why you ran around Baelton,” Da’Fou whispered, “Muddying the waters so that no one would believe anything they heard... But how did he die?”

Mentally, Vathion gave Kiti the order to hand out datapads to the captains. “Here’s the autopsy report on my father, as well as Se’Valef’s. Also the surveillance file, as I found it. However, I’m given to believe that what you see isn’t what happened. I’m still in the process of investigating what really occurred, but progress is slow - and will be slower if I have to fight you the whole way.” He looked from one captain to the next, staring into their eyes as they met his gaze firmly. “I promise you, Natan didn’t leave you with a complete moron,” he smirked though very briefly, “I’ve got it on Paymeh’s word that I was always the backup. Natan's been training me practically since birth.”

Vathion nearly frowned at that. He had intended for that to be a lie, but now that he thought about it... the more it seemed true. “So, whatever Gatas has told you about me, just remember that it is Gatas, and he does tend to overreact badly to sudden changes.”

There were a few weak chuckles, but no one seemed to have the heart to laugh that hard at the moment. “Bad news wasn’t all I intended to talk about in this meeting,” he stated, “so first off, I’d like you to know that I do things a bit differently from my father. When asked, I will explain my reasoning for decisions, but I will ignore stupid questions and whining. All things I do are for a reason, so even if it seems insane or idiotic, bear with me and follow orders. Everything will be fine in the end. You’re all intelligent,” Vathion added, “Otherwise my father wouldn’t have trusted you to take care of his other babies, so if you have a valid objection to something I’m going to do, then voice it.”

Shifting in his seat, Vathion mentally ordered Kiti to turn the wallscreen on the opposite wall to the map of the Marak system and its trade routes. Gesturing towards the map, Vathion changed topics, “Now, as you’ve heard, we’re going to the Marak system, and though it seems like it’s firmly within the hold of the Empire and fortified, I was personally ordered by the Emperor to take the Fleet there. Reports indicate that Marak is going to be the Rebel’s next target and it’s too important to make into a strategic loss like Kimidas.”

This raised brows on some of the captains, apparently, they had not thought of it like that. Or perhaps they had, but had not expected him to know. “Also, my research into what my father was up to has indicated that he knew something about Marak that linked with Baelton and I’ve personally found a link to Kimidas.”

“Then shouldn’t we stay around Baelton if it’s in danger of falling?” Da’Itta of Cinnamon Rolls asked. She was a woman who did not have her eye on men, but she had been good friends with Natan in their days in the Navy. Her hair was cropped short and gone completely silver where her eyes remained a vivid orange-gold.

Vathion snorted. “Stationmaster’s just running some Shell Harbors. That’s none of our concern. Baelton is under Serfocile jurisdiction, even if there’s a Gilon Stationmaster. They will handle things when they find out about it.” He saw some reluctant nods around the table and continued. “You’re all familiar with the situation out in Marak, but I’ll fill you in on some details. Currently stationed over there is Ha’Huran, Ha’Piro, and Ha’Clemmis, and thanks to a ... bit of a mistake on Ma’Gatas’s part, we’ve inadvertently irritated them. We’ve definitely pissed Ha’Huran off.”

“You mean the sudden dismissal of some crew?” Da’Fou, of the Seven, asked. She was a petite woman, limber and rarely remained still for long. Even now, in the wake of terrible grief, she was bouncing her knee under the table. Her almond brown hair was in tight natural curls, tamed at the back of her head by a black bow with red edging to match her uniform. “I thought that was strange. So you didn’t order it? Gatas said you did.”

Shaking his head, Vathion said, “He lied. Admittedly, they were spies, but they were useful and weren’t hurting anything by remaining where they were. Unfortunately, two owned by the emperor, one by Huran, and Se’Valef were found dead in one of Baelton’s dockside bars after a brawl. I did my best to smooth the incident over with Stationmaster, but the Serfocile aren’t happy about us unruly Gilons on their station and honestly, you all know Se’Valef. I’ve looked in the files and can’t find any surveillance of him since the twenty-second. He could not have jumped ship, since the Xarian didn’t go into port until I ordered it yesterday, and there were no transport ships missing or logged as leaving or coming back except the one I arrived on. Honestly, whoever tried to pin the blame for this on Valef was stupid. Valef and my father were as close as brothers and any who knew him would have known that.”

Bur shifted, leaning forward. “Someone didn’t do their homework.” She snorted, a gleam in her eyes that Vathion recognized as the lust for revenge.

Giving a snort, the young admiral said, “Indeed. Also, suspiciously missing from the surveillance recording of my father’s death is the sound. I’ve turned it up to the point where I could hear dust hitting the floor and it’s obvious that Natan and Valef had an extensive conversation, but there is absolutely nothing being said after the first line.”

On the wallscreen, the video of Natan leaving his quarters at shortly past the time when third shift changed to fourth played.

Vathion fell silent as Natan spoke and afterwards there was the silence with headshakes and shrugs. Vathion let that play a moment before he said, “I’ve brightened the video here.” The lighting on the shot changed, restoring color to the scene, replacing the half-seen shadows. “However, there’s still nothing to see.” Natan jerked as Valef patted his shoulder and turned away, heading out, the poor admiral falling to his knees, then landing on his face.

“Wait!” Da’Yaun called and Vathion halted the video. “There - it looks like something hit him in the back of the head.”

Vathion magnified the view with a mental command to Kiti. “Definitely blood, but nothing was found on the autopsy that shouldn’t have been there.”

Da’Bur nodded, “Valef would never do that, or even be an accomplice in Ha’Natan’s murder.” She paused, “I’ve known him longer than Natan did. There’s just no way he could have done that.” Looking towards Vathion, she suggested, “What if Gatas’s firing spree covered the murderer’s escape off the ship?”

Nodding, Vathion said, “Either the fiend was a double agent, or one my father didn’t know about - which is unlikely. Crew does sign away privacy upon boarding the Fleet, so the person had to be a double agent. I’ve taken precautions and set some of my father’s contacts to watching the people Gatas fired. I managed to counter a few of the fifteen release notices that had not been read and heeded yet, so it’s fifty-fifty as to whether they’re still onboard. However,” he sighed, “Much as it pains me, I intend to be Spectacular enough to please the public and make myself a target if I can.”

The captain of the Vathion snorted. “You’ve certainly inherited his charm. You could probably pull it off.”

Vathion glanced aside and coughed behind his fist. “Anyway,” he said, getting back on subject, “The short of it is, we’re going to Marak to pick up some replacement crew, and hunt around that area for Rebels as well as information. I’ll need you all to keep me informed on anything strange, and to trust me. We can pull this off.” He hoped anyway.

More than a few pairs of eyes flicked towards the urn on the table and back towards Vathion. Da’Bur nodded her agreement, followed by Yaun, Fou and Ikka. The other captains finally agreed, and Vathion refrained from eyeing one that was a little late in nodding, but the man’s gaze had been resting on what was left of Ha’Natan. That man, Da’Ouka of the Saimon, looked back towards the wallscreen, “Ha’Vathion, could you continue with your observations on the surveillance?” Da’Ouka was a man that approached things cautiously. New innovative stuff was okay, but he liked to take change in moderate amounts.

He waved his hand in agreement, only belatedly realizing that it was a polite Serfocile gesture, Vathion said verbally, “Of course.”

The magnification of the back of Natan’s head shrank and the video, still brightened, resumed. Ha’Natan rolled over and called weakly for Valef, Paymeh disengaged with enough force to make Natan jerk, and then the crate hit.

The video cut off and the screen went blank. His captains turned their attention back towards him as Vathion took a breath. He had seen the vid enough times to know by the second what happened in it, and so he had been staring at the only object in his line of sight that would afford him an excuse to not look at the vid. The urn was bright chrome cylinder, the seal on it locked with a circle of black glass framed in a thin red enamel boarder. In the center, inscribed in silver was the noble crest of the Gannatet family.

Vathion swallowed an acidic burp and realized that everyone was staring at him.

Lifting his eyes, he looked back at them.

It took a moment for him to recognize that they were gazing at him in support, rather than thinking him weak. He cleared his throat and blinked a few times, then put on a slight smile for them. “So far, what I’ve told you about the surveillance tape is all I’ve figured out. If I find anything further, I’ll share it with you. Back to the Marak situation,” he stated to regain his composure and take control of the situation again, “When we get to port, feel free to make up whatever stories you want to about my father. The wilder the better and soon only those involved will know the truth and believe it.”

Da’Bur snorted softly and glanced aside, “I actually believed some of the lies you put out - like the one about him running around the ship in the nude. That really sounded like him.”

Vathion shrugged, “I overheard him telling mom that he’d had a dream that he had done that once. The other reoccurring one was that he went into battle naked on the bridge.”

“That wouldn’t stop him,” someone at the table muttered and they laughed.

Smirking, Vathion continued, “As I recall, the end to that one was that he’d ended the war and declared that since being naked was so lucky, he’d do it all the time!”

This got the other captains laughing, some about close to tears.

“I’m going to miss him,” Bur said in the silence that followed the laughter.

Eyes falling half lidded, Vathion slapped the table. “Enough of that!” This made them jump and he took a breath, straightening in his chair. “My father would be absolutely disgusted with you all! Moping about like it was the end of the world. He left a legacy - he left someone with the right skills and education to continue his work! He said to me once... He said,” Vathion paused, recalling something Natan had said to him in one of their conversations over the vid, “‘Laughter is the best medicine for bad days. So no matter what’s happened, if you find something to laugh about, you can move on and do what you’ve got to.’”

Vathion paused, knowing that the captains had probably never heard Natan say that, but Vathion suspected that his father dropped a lot of his silly act when he spoke to Vathion and his mother. “I can’t say that he didn’t have any regrets... He left a lot of things unfinished, and the jerk lied to me! If he doesn’t feel sorry for that one, I will find some way to kick his rear!” He raised a fist in his brief flare of temper then subsided, but kept his voice raised and commanding, “But in the meantime, we’re all playing the part of Hero, because we have to. Because we’ve all got a dream and if we don’t show the people of the Empire how to fight for theirs, then I guess Hiba will be out of a job!”

His sudden change at the end of his motivational speech had the captains laughing again, which was fine, and Vathion added, “And I’m sure Dad would want us to have a hell of a fun time while we were at it. So, as I told Da’Bur, I’ll be serious when the occasion merits it, but I’ll do my best to leave my... ah... usual dour expression in my room.” Lifting a hand, he placed it on his heart, making a vow of it, “As I’ve been told by a number of people that I tend to look like my pet got kicked when I’m thinking.”

Again, this got a laugh, and Vathion settled back in his chair, “Any questions?” he asked, “Or suggestions?” There were no takers on that so Vathion added, “Then, since we’ve got business out of the way and it’s lunch time, we’ll have Ha’Natan’s memorial meal.”

This was agreed to by the captains and Kiti brought out the food. Vathion stood once the table was set and placed Natan in the center, then as the captains bowed their heads, Vathion placed his hands together, saying a traditional prayer. Taking a seat, Vathion waited a moment while the captains added their own prayers in soft murmurs and then lifted their heads to start the meal. Vathion picked up his fork.

Bur asked, “So, what’s your best memory of him, Ha’Vathion?”

Pursing his lips, Vathion thought for a moment, “Well, for one birthday he sent me the specs and video of a ship he’d named after me. That was a pretty cool present.” He flashed his father’s grin at them. “What about you?” From there, they traded favorite memories with much laughter, which Vathion was sure Natan would have wanted.

* * *

Placing the urn on a shelf in the study at eye level, Vathion stepped back. “Well,” he said, addressing it, “I hope you’re happy with that.” His eyes stung, and quickly, the young man took a breath and shook his head. Turning, he headed out into the living room of his quarters. “Kiti, where’s Ma’Gatas been during the meeting?”

“On the bridge, Stud Muffin,” she said, “Accessing information on the Marak system.”

Nodding, Vathion headed out across the hall and into the bridge. There, he found that second shift had taken over. Vathion came to a stop in front of his seat, “Have the captains arrived back at their ships yet?” he asked of Ca’Hassi.

She looked over and said, “Yes sir.”

Flopping into his seat, the young admiral crossed his legs and yawned, feeling tired now that he was finished with the stressful encounter with the captains. “All right, resume course to Marak.”

Unfortunately, he could not rest yet. #Kiti, where is Se’Mel?#

#Se’Mel is in his quarters, sleeping,# the AI responded.

Vathion pondered for a moment, then decided, #My getting information is more important than his sleep. Wake him up and have him come to the bridge.# After all, Mel should have been getting up soon anyway... unless he had intentions of getting up sometime around mid-third shift. Vathion did not know, but decided that he did not care. It wasn't like fourth shift in the brig was fantastically exciting.

After about fifteen minutes, the bridge door opened. Ma’Gatas turned to look and Vathion caught the man’s startled expression from the corner of his eye. Turning and getting to his feet, Vathion faced Se’Mel; the man was rather... unremarkable. He was average height, average weight. He had unmentionable hair that was kind of gray-brown. The only thing notable about him was that he did not have a Hyphokos and was currently wearing a sleepy expression, hair rumpled. His uniform looked clean at least, and for the life of him, Vathion could not pinpoint why the man disturbed him.

“This way,” Vathion said, gesturing towards the bridge meeting room.

Se’Mel, the fourth shift security in the brig, saluted. “Yes sir,” he said and headed towards his right.

“Unless it’s important,” Vathion said to his bridge crew, “don’t interrupt.”

“What do you need to talk to him for?” Gatas asked.

“Maybe I want a new friend?” Vathion said snidely.

Gatas’s jaw dropped and Vathion turned to find Mel standing in the door to the bridge office, trying not to laugh. Heading after Mel, Vathion stepped in and allowed the door to close behind him. For a moment, he hesitated. ‘How do you go about conducting an interrogation?’ he pondered, and then walked past Mel. A situation like this certainly hadn't been in Battle Fleet.

The room was a slightly more formal background for taking calls and doing other official business. The walls were simply white with a desk on one end of the room, several chairs set along the walls, and on the wall opposite from the desk was a full-wall screen. Vathion took a seat in the chair behind the desk. “Have a seat. Sorry about waking you up, but I’d like to ask you a few things.”

Mel nodded. “Yes sir,” he said and took a seat, pulling it around to face Vathion.

Watching the man’s movements, Vathion asked, “Work out much?”

Pausing, the man stared at him for a second before replying, “A little. It gets a bit boring in the brig.”

Vathion snorted. “I’ll bet,” still trying to think of some way to get around to the topic, he asked, “Got any hobbies then?” The trick was... asking questions without revealing that Natan was dead.

Looking perturbed, Mel shifted in his seat, “A few... I’m not sure what this has to do with ...anything... I mean... You called me up here to talk about something, right?”

“You heard that there was an accident in cargo bay four, correct?” Vathion asked.

Slowly, Mel nodded, “Yeah, just a few days ago... right? Has the body been identified?”

Vathion frowned slightly, “Since the investigation is still underway, I cannot tell you. However, the accident occurred during your shift on the twentieth. Can you tell me what you were doing during mid to end of your shift?”

Slowly, Mel shook his head, “I was reading, sir. I know I’m not supposed to do personal stuff during shift, but... Ha’Vathion, you understand... there’s really nothing to do down there. I mean the most excitement I’ve gotten while working down there for the last four years has been when those two idiots got drunk six months ago and started a brawl in the Rec Room!”

Listening to the man’s tale, Vathion kept his expression neutral, only lifting a hand to interrupt, “I didn’t call you up here to ream you for reading on the clock, Se’Mel. I want to know if you saw anything or heard anything.”

Pressing his lips together for a moment, Mel thought, then shook his head, “No sir. The cameras in the brig are closed circuit. I only have views of the cells.” He paused, “Cargo bay four’s kinda a bit of a ways from me too. I don’t hear much of anything that even goes on in the main hall.”

“When you left your shift to go to your room,” Vathion said, “Did you notice anything out of the ordinary?”

“No sir, the door was closed, as usual.”

Vathion thought about it for a moment and forced himself not to shift uncomfortably. ‘I really... don’t like this man.’

“Did you have any contact with Se’Valef?”

“No sir,” Mel said, “I never got invited to join that group.” He did not sound upset about it.

Vathion finally shifted, sitting back in his chair slightly, “So who are your friends on board?”

Mel shook his head slightly, looking like he was about to protest. Vathion held up a hand. “Never mind.” At the same moment, he addressed Kiti, #Please look up who he hangs out with on a regular basis, calls, talks to, whatever.#

“Thank you for your time, Se’Mel,” Vathion said and stood, “You may go.”

Mel got to his feet and saluted in return, heading for the door.

Vathion remained where he was for a moment before heading out to the bridge and taking a seat in his chair. Taking a look at what Gatas was doing, Vathion found that his second was still refreshing his memory on the Marak system. Vathion settled back in his seat.

‘This is BORING!’ he wailed mentally, forgetting briefly that Paymeh and Kiti were the ones who could hear him.

Paymeh spoke up, #Play your game? Read Natan’s biography?#

#Go back to bed?# Kiti suggested.

Sighing under his breath, Vathion opened Natan’s autobiography.

Chapter 7 ..... Chapter 9