Chapter 9
First Blood

Natan’s Wonderful Autobiography!

For my twenty-ninth birthday, I bought myself the Van class Xarian, and Green Wave, and the Sport class Seven. I was in the business.

I moved over to the Xarian, making it my new flagship, since I’d made it so spiffy with twenty-four guns and a custom coded AI. I also gave the Midris a new engine, since it was now the slowest of the bunch, handing over captaincy of it to Codas’s bother-in-law, Yaun.

With four ships and the need for experienced crew, I looked to my old Navy buddies for captains and bridge crew. I collected Arih's sister, Chira, for Weapons Two - my Carrots are so cute sitting next to each other like that! - Zandre, Logos, and Valef were Navy friends and I made them security on my flagship. I talked Ninisaki into retiring from the forces and taking over Green Wave, Fou practically jumped into my lap and begged me to let her have the Seven, so I agreed and let my new captains pick their bridge crews, since I’d filled out mine to my liking - except for a second in command. I had more to think about than just one ship and I had so much to do.

That was when I heard about Gatas getting honorably discharged by the Navy for his wounds in a recent battle that we’d both been involved in. So I went to visit him in the hospital. Poor guy was really messed up. He’d never pilot again, and to be honest, I felt sorry for him. He was intelligent and ambitious, but lacking the opportunities to rise in rank. Okay, and the personality... So I offered him the title of Ma’ and he jumped on it. I had my new second in command.

So off we went, me sporting my shiny new title of Ha’Natan - which I had been given by the rest of my crew and the other ships in my mini fleet and it stuck. Who was I to argue with an impromptu rise in rank, even if it wasn’t really official? But soon it wasn’t just my crew calling me that, but at every station we stopped at I had more and more people calling me Ha’Natan. With all the victories we’d gotten lately, we got called into one of Emperor Armalan’s ceremonies for giving out medals, and I was confirmed as an admiral, and given a Ruby Pendant.

Afterwards, I entertained the emperor and officers with my latest dirty stories.

Off to Save the Universe Again.

It was about this time that Hiba approached me. He was a small time producer back then, with the ambition to make a Vid show about the heroes of the Empire, and I signed away the rights to my charming good looks and practically anything I said or did. I admit, the idea went to my head and that was when the Ha’Natan we all know today was born - wild catch phrases and all. It took a bit for my bridge crew to get used to it, but once they did, they started having a lot more fun during battles. Considering that we were killing people... it was much needed levity.

Because I was now A Star, and because I had more than one ship, I started making up funky battle plans and surprising the Rebels with crazy things that shouldn’t have worked - but they did because they were surprising. Huran really started to hate me then, but he’s intelligent enough to recognize a good ally when he sees one.

Two years later, I was thirty-one and going strong. I bought myself two Hauler class ships for my birthday, which I named Saimon and Ameda and overhauled the engines and weapons on all the rest of my ships. I gave Saimon to my friend Ouka, and the Ameda to Pidannt. My Natan Fleet Show was pulling in quite a bit of income as well, Hiba loved me, and I loved the ladies and my ships.

It was my thirty-sixth birthday. I remember it so clearly. My fleet - then consisting of the Xarian, Green, Seven, Midris, Saimon, and Ameda, had docked at Ika Station. My original intention had been to see if I could get my mother to talk to me again, but that hadn’t gone too well. She’d bitched at me - not that I should have expected anything else - but she’d said some rather terrible things that I’d rather not put down in writing. In short, I felt like crap that day. I hadn’t even wanted to go out on dock, even though I had a crowd of fans waving banners and shouting for me. Most of my crew had already gone on leave, but I was moping in my quarters until Valef showed up at my door with Logos and Zandre. They physically hauled me out onto the docks - to my protests - stuck my baton into my hand and posed with me for pictures. Then they took me out drinking.

Even after having several drinks and being quite sloshed, I was still in a terrible mood and my poor guards had to hold back the pitying girls that wanted to comfort me as I raved about how bitchy my mother was and how much of a jerk my father was and how old I was getting and how much it all sucked. I’m sure Valef, Zandre and Logos were regretting hauling me out by then and after a while, they just gave up and let the girls through - well, once I’d stopped splashing beer everywhere.

After a while - a very short while, I got irritated with ladies fawning over me and told them to get lost, which I fear may have damaged my reputation a little. Finally, I’d driven them off and just sat with my face on the bar. I think I might have passed out at that point, because next I sat up, my neck was aching and Paymeh was standing beside me looking rather irritated. Ah, I remember what he said then. Clearly as if it were yesterday!

That may be because it’s something he says often...

He said: “Natan. You’re a dickhead.” Yes, he actually does call me that, and often. But he also said: “You’re always complaining about not having anyone, but you shoot yourself in the foot by having your standards so high. You’re flighty and inconsistent and if you’d just pick someone you wouldn’t have all these teenage girls throwing themselves at you.”

My reply was: “Hey! That’s a great idea!”

It was like a light had turned on. Not that getting a real girlfriend would make my mother quit being a bitch or my father stop being a prick, or make my brother appear out of thin air, but it’d certainly make going to bed on long voyages more entertaining. This was where things got hairy though. I didn’t want just any girl who’d hop into bed with me; after all, that was why I hadn’t picked one of them in the first place. I wanted a partner - the stuff in bed was bonus.

So I said: “Where am I going to get a girlfriend that I really like though? I’ve already tried dating them all.”

Mind, I was still a little drunk at this point.

Okay. A lot drunk.

It was at this point that Zandre entered the conversation - he’s such a great guy. I wish I could’ve given him more bonuses, he put up with a lot of crap and is one of my few good buddies. Zandre said: “How about Logos, Valef, and I go find a girl for you. We’ll bring her to meet you when you’ve... sobered up a little.”

Seeing as how... well, I couldn’t quite see much of anything as it was all blurry and doubled at that point, I agreed. And promptly fell off my bar stool and landed on Paymeh.

I don’t remember anything after that.

When I woke, it was twelve hours later and I had a splitting headache. I stayed in my quarters that day, so there’s not much to say except that I barfed and cussed a lot.

Paymeh avoided me. I think he may have been in sickbay getting bruise ointment from I’Savon’s Bond. The lucky dog.

In any case, it was the next day that this sweet little creature was presented to me. My buds had outdone themselves. She had waves of green hair down to her mid back and large emerald eyes I just fell into. Zandre stood behind her firmly - and looking back on the moment, I think it was to prevent her from running away. She blushed and said her name was Hasabi Mayles.

Since I was in the market for a partner, I went easy on her and Zandre stuck around to put her at ease. She was nineteen and I still feel like a cradle robber. Ah, Hasabi... she was so shy at first, but there were moments when I’d say something and she’d turn it into a joke. I never laughed so hard. I miss the way she smelled, she had some extra scent on her hair that I just wanted to bury my face in and I don’t know if I scared her by how often I played with her hair, just to stir it. That was all I touched that first week we were together. Unfortunately, she was still in school, and we had to get back to work, so I bid her goodbye and thanked her for such a wonderful time - doubting I’d ever see her again.

I was rolling in money again and had the urge to spend it, so I bought Hauler class Cinnamon Rolls, Van class Cider, and Sport class Faith in Me. I really liked that song. I’d been listening to it the week I met Hasabi. This time, I gathered crew from the civilian population, with ex-Navy captains, except for Cider, which was a return favor for one of my contacts out at Marak. So, Itta took Cinnamon, Luhi took Faith, and Giima took Cider.

I didn’t get back to Ika Station for another year and a half, but there she was, waiting at the front of the crowd with a bottle of my favorite wine and some flowers. Of course, I did the obligatory pose and shout and my guards snapped a salute. Lots of picture flashes and I was asked stupid questions like “are you going to get drunk again?” Apparently they’d thought last year’s episode was hilarious, and it had even made it into the show. I really should watch my behavior in public, but thankfully Hiba hadn’t discovered the real ending to that bout of self-pity and just wrote it off that my best friends cheered me up and my parents apologized and rah, happy ending. I wish. They still won’t talk to me, and I think they hate the show.

Anyway. I finished with the usual show and received my gifts from Hasabi and took her out to dinner. Hiba got this into an episode too, but he got the ending on that one wrong too and said that we’d messed around but in the end I left her, as I’ve left all the others, even though throughout the whole episode I hadn’t touched her once. I made an effort to be polite and the perfect gentleman to her, and the way she smiled at me made me all wibbly inside! I didn’t want to ruin that, so I kept my distance. I’m a glutton for punishment, I swear.

I was even sweet to the fan girls that bugged me during my date with Hasabi and politely requested that they find something else to do and informed them that I was busy. They weren’t sure what to think of that and it made me realize how much they put up with and how much of a prick I really was. It made me rethink my whole life up to that point, which put me in a sort of depressive mood, but Hasabi made me laugh and I just couldn’t upset her with any of my usual snide comments or such.

We got called out the next day, and there went my plans of hanging around for another week to visit with Hasabi... maybe even meet her parents.

* * *

Explosively sitting up in bed, Vathion panted as he blinked in the sudden brightness of his room.

“Ha’Vathion?” Kiti asked, “Are you all right?” She sounded genuinely concerned. Then again, it may have been clever programming Vathion’s father had done. After all, she was a custom built model.

After a moment more, Vathion scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands then lowered them to stare at his sweaty palms.

“Ha’Vathion?” Kiti asked again when he did not answer.

“I was screaming again, wasn’t I?” he asked finally, throat sore, voice cracking.

“Yes sir,” Kiti said, sounding worried.

“What time is it?”

“Five-thirty,” Kiti said even as he threw aside the sweaty and tangled sheets. “You should rest more.”

“Change the sheets,” he ordered, “and give me a uniform.” Heading to the bathroom, Vathion stripped his shorts off and stepped into the shower.

So started his third day as Admiral of the Natan Fleet. This whole... waking up screaming and being unable to get to sleep easily in the first place and many other things was really getting old; paired with the fact that if he was not actively working on something, he was bored as hell. ‘This ...was not how I imagined being an Admiral would be like,’ he thought as he scrubbed down and rinsed off.

When he got out of the shower, he found his bed made - one last Daisybot crawling out from under the comforter and dropping to the floor, scurrying across the room to a minibot port like a bug caught raiding the crumbs in the kitchen. Vathion snorted at the thought. “The things we put up with...” he mused aloud.

Thankfully, Paymeh had gotten it through his head that Vathion did not like sleeping merged, thus, Paymeh was not there. However, as Vathion dropped the towel he had been drying his hair with to the floor, the bedroom door opened and Paymeh stepped in, heading across the room on his back feet and climbing onto the bed to sit beside Vathion’s fresh uniform.

“You should go see I’Savon,” Paymeh said. “You’re not sleeping and that’s going to wreck your health.”

“Shut up,” Vathion muttered, picking up the pants and pulled them on. “If you knew anything, you’d know sleep aids make me sick.” Paymeh looked unconvinced and Vathion threw a glare at him. “Don’t you even feel sorry for what you did?” he demanded, straightening to stare down at Paymeh.

The Hyphokos stared up at him, either unconcerned or not understanding Vathion's train of thought. “You really should see I’Savon,” he said.

“I don’t want to see the doctor.”

“She said she needs to get a baseline on you anyway,” Paymeh said.

Grabbing his shirt off the bed, Vathion pulled it on and snapped, “Piss off, Paymeh! If she wants to know what I look like healthy, then tell her to contact my doctor on Larena. I’ll give her the number.”

Paymeh’s ears drooped behind him as Vathion continued getting dressed. Pulling his boots on, he stood and headed for his office.

“What’re you going to do?” Paymeh asked as he followed.

“Check my mail! Do I need to report to people every little thing I do? Ask for permission to go to the potty?”

Stopping in the door to the office, Paymeh looked chagrined. “No need to cop an attitude at me! You were never like this before.”

Vathion dropped into the rolling chair in front of the desk, then turned to look at Paymeh, “I point out that you only know me through infrequent vidcalls, letters, and photos - and whatever Mom bragged about me. Also, I point out that I’ve lost every last thing I ever held dear and had a responsibility of rather great importance thrust upon me by a man I never got to meet - and you expect me to be happy about this? It’s only fighting in a civil war that’s been going on since Dad was seven while playing the symbol of hope for the future, and hoping I don’t screw up so bad that I cause everything to go down the toilet! How hard could that possibly be for a sixteen year old?”

“Your father trained you!” Paymeh objected.

“What? With Battle Fleet? At school?” Vathion demanded.

Paymeh nodded, “Your schools were all staffed by very intelligent people - you got good grades. You got to level six admiral!”

“So what if I’m smart! That doesn’t stop me from acting the age I am at the worst possible moment!” Vathion pointed out.

“Like right now?” Paymeh snapped back.

Scowling, Vathion snarled, “Yeah, like right now. Go the hell away, Paymeh, before I throw you out.”

Ears lifting in shock, Paymeh stared at Vathion, then, when the young gilon got to his feet, he turned and ran for it, escaping the admiral’s quarters, hissing in terror.

Sitting back down, Vathion sighed, “Lock the door, Kiti,” he ordered.

“...that wasn’t very nice,” Kiti said.

“Yeah, well, life hasn’t been very nice to me either. I’m just sharing the love.” Vathion turned to face the computer screen and pulled the keyboard closer to call up the internet, then surfed over to his free email.

He had three hundred new mails. “Ugh,” he muttered, and then hit the button to sort by name instead of date. “Delete all mails from Lisha,” he ordered. “Delete all mails from Paire. Oh hell, create new folder, download any mail from Mirith, Mirith’s parents, and my grandparents to the new folder.” After that was done, he still had far too many. Just to make sure he had not missed anyone he actually wanted to communicate with, Vathion scrolled through the remaining ones. Interstellar News had managed to get his email. He pulled that one over to his new folder, just to see what they wanted. The remaining mail was from the people who had either tried to beat the crap out of him, picked on him, or generally ignored him during the years they had been in school together. That comprised the entire student body and faculty aside from Mirith.

“Delete the rest,” he said, then began opening the remaining five he had.

(May 23rd 14:34) Mirith:

Vathion! Where the hell did you go? What gives you any right to run off without even saying goodbye? You THAT embarrassed about what happened the other day? Look, I’m sorry! Please - talk to me! I’ll make it up to you!

Vathion sighed and shook his head, opening the next mail from her.

(May 24th 17:01) Mirith:

You’re bloody KIDDING me! All this time you were NATAN’S SON AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN TELL ME? I can’t believe you!

Don’t you DARE forget about me! EMAIL! CALL! SOMETHING!

Sitting back briefly, Vathion pondered replying to that mail, then decided to instead finish reading the last one she had sent.

(May 26th 17:24) Mirith:

Hey? I was just watching the news again and I just noticed - where’s Jathas? And you sure look upset. What happened? What REALLY happened? TALK to me!

Shoving his hands through his hair, Vathion realized that he had not combed it yet and said, “Kiti, bring me a brush?”

“If you apologize to Paymeh,” she said.

Squeezing his eyes shut and scrubbing the heels of his palms on them, Vathion growled, “All right, I will,” though he intended to do it later; maybe much later. Kiti brought him a brush at least, by way of Daisybot, which scurried across the desk with the brush on its back. He began attacking his hair while he pondered what to tell Mirith.

One handed, Vathion reached to open an email, then stopped and said instead, “Call Mirith,” he rattled off her number.

Finally getting the tangles from his hair, Vathion found that he had let it dry too much for it to lay flat-ish today. “Today... is going to suck. I just know it,” he said as the phone connected and rang.

And rang.

And rang.

After several more rings, Vathion disconnected. “School has ended. And over there it should be about noon. Maybe... they’re just out?”

“I don’t know,” Kiti answered, admittedly puzzled.

Pondering for a moment, Vathion put on hold his idea of calling her and instead opened the one mail from his grandmother.

(May 26th 17:30) Ameda:

Dear Vath, I hope you’re doing all right. You seemed a little stressed when we saw you on the news. Did Jathas leave you?

Mirith stopped by, but I didn’t tell her anything. You should talk to her.

Love you. Please stay safe. And call your mother!

“How about calling you?” Vath said in reply, and then nodded, “Call grandma Ameda.” Kiti already knew that number.

The phone rang once before Midris appeared, looking surprised. “Vath!” he said.

“Hey. Sorry I didn’t call before this. I just had the chance to check my mail. Amazing how popular I’ve suddenly become.” Vathion said and tried to smile. “How have you been?”

Midris sighed. “Getting by. Ameda has been rather upset since you left. ...thanks for the gift.”

Nodding, Vathion twiddled with the brush. “Grandma mailed me, she said Mirith stopped by - I tried to call her but no one answered. It’s noon there, right?”

“A little before,” Midris agreed. “She came by to see where you were and said that she was going to be out of touch for a bit. Her father got a new job.”

Vathion frowned, “New job? Where?” Mirith’s father, as Vathion recalled, was a mining director. He worked remotely from an office on Larena, occasionally taking trips out to the site he oversaw. Mostly, he pushed papers. It wasn’t a very demanding or exciting job, nor was it really much responsibility.

“Miri didn’t say,” Midris admitted with a shrug. “Vath... your Bondstone changed colors.”

“I know,” Vath sighed, “Paymeh mistook me for dad and merged... the feedback, I guess, killed Jathas.”

“I’m sorry...” Midris said, apparently at a loss of what to say. It was unheard of what Paymeh had done.

Shaking his head, Vathion lifted his chin, determined to not whine or pout, “I’m fine,” he lied. “Tell grandma I said hi, okay? I love you both.”

“Gotta go?” Midris asked.

“Yeah, it’s nearing shift-time. I haven’t quite gotten on a schedule here. Having to adjust to Heartland time is a bit difficult... And it’s really kinda boring when I have to just sit on the bridge or something... Gatas is really getting on my nerves. I can’t leave him alone for a second; he keeps trying to go over my head!”

Midris thought about that for a second or two, “He’s probably just upset that a complete stranger came in and took over and is worried you’ll forget to do something important.”

“I wish he would just do his job and not mine too,” Vathion sighed and shook his head. “He’ll either get used to me or... I don’t know...”

“If you can’t work with him, don’t keep him. To hell with that vidshow,” Midris said.

Vathion snorted, “Aright, I’ll see if he gets used to me. At least give him a chance. Wouldn’t want to have to break in a new second in command. It... might also not go over well with the rest of my officers.”

Wincing, the older man nodded. “You take care, okay?”

Vathion nodded, “Yes sir. Give Grandma a hug for me.”

Midris smiled slightly, “Call us, all right? And your mother!”

“She’s next on my list, promise!”

“Bye.”

Cutting the connection, Vathion sighed and rubbed his temples. He had a tension headache coming on. ‘Why am I so wound up? It’s not like Grandpa was going to yell at me...’

Breathing, Vathion tipped his chin down then rolled his head to either side before turning back towards his mail, opening the one from Interstellar News.

(May 26th 12:43) Interstellar News:

Dear Ha’Vathion, We would like to set up an exclusive interview with you to speak about your childhood and how your father managed to survive so long without his mate. Please contact us.

“Screw you, no. Delete that.” The message obediently disappeared.

Picking up the keyboard, Vathion opened a new email and addressed it to Mirith.

Mirith, I’m sorry about leaving like that and then ignoring your emails. Some stuff happened and things moved too quickly for me to get to this. Amazing how popular I just became at school. The universe will probably know I’m sixteen fairly soon, I guess. Hope no one guts me for that...

I tried to call you but no one answered and Grandpa (Midris - how’s THAT for irony?) said that your dad got transferred somewhere or got a new job. Something like that. Here’s the number you can call to reach me on the Xarian. Just remember I’m on Heartland time.

I’m not mad at you. I’m just trying to keep things under control here. Just between you and me ...I really wasn’t ready for this. I hope that I can rely on you to keep that promise.

Sitting back, Vathion stared at the email for a moment before finally sending it. He sighed then and shoved his hands through his hair and got up. “What time is it?”

“Start of first shift,” Kiti said, “Please apologize to Paymeh?”

“I said I would, didn’t I?” Pausing, he looked up at the ceiling, “Get me some toast and tea, please? I think that’s probably why I snapped at him.”

Kiti appeared on the screen above his desk, perched on it cross-legged. “Probably,” she agreed. At least she was fully dressed this time.

Vathion decided to not make Kiti drag tea and toast all the way over to the office and arrived in the kitchen just as she finished making it. “Thanks,” he said and leaned against the countertop.

“You probably should go see I’Savon,” Kiti said, “You don’t look very healthy.”

“Sleep aids make me puke,” Vathion said and sipped his tea. “And I happen to have a headache at the moment. Something for it?”

Obediently, the AI brought him a tablet and Vathion swallowed it with a gulp of hot tea. ‘I wish I had someone to talk to - someone who didn’t nag at me... I miss Jathas.’

Taking his toast and tea, Vathion pushed off the counter and headed towards the bridge.

First shift crew was already there at their stations, including Ma’Gatas.

“You’re late,” Gatas pointed out.

“If there was an emergency,” Vathion said, “I’m right across the hall, and would come in here naked if I had to. However, since you were here to cover for me, I don’t see any problem with my being a few minutes late.”

Bibbole made an odd noise that may have been a sneeze - or a hyphokos laughing.

Taking his seat, Vathion balanced the plate on the arm of his chair and took a bite of toast, trying not to get crumbs all over his front. His efforts were in vain, though, and once he finished breakfast, he set the plate on the floor and dusted off.

Settling into his chair, Vathion turned towards the screen at his right hand to find something to do. After a minute of staring at the screen, he finally decided to finish the hacking project he had been working on for Hell-Razor.

Hell-Razor was an interesting woman. She had hacked the Imperial bank four years ago and left a note explaining exactly how she had done it. Of course, they found out where she was and arrested her. However, someone High Up had given her a choice - and Vathion knew of this because she had told him herself - either she taught Vathion how to program and hack like she did, or she could go to jail. She had told him she didn’t regret a thing.

As of the moment, Vathion was working on a small project he called the “Origami Code” which took a message’s data and scrambled it in such a way that it was impossible to fix from a 2D standpoint. He just needed to do a few last things to it and the project was finished.

Pulling up Battle Fleet first, he opened his saved file and started to work, fingers moving swiftly across the keyboard. Though, now, technically, he could have thought at Kiti and coded that way. However, that was not how he had started the project, and to switch now would be disruptive. Becoming absorbed in his project, Vathion lost track of the rest of the world.

* * *

“Ha’Vathion,” Bibbole stated, “Tight beam message from Ha’Clemmis of the Imperial Hauler class, Shesa. It’s on the emergency channel.”

“What’s it say?” Vathion asked, then sat up he realized what had been said. ‘Emergency channel. Crap!’ Actual space travel took far longer in real life than it did in Battle Fleet, and was quite a bit more boring. It had been a day and a half since they had left Baelton and in that time there had been two jumps. Out of boredom, he had finished his project for Hell-Razor, called his mother, tried again to get in contact with Mirith and failed, and finally settled on playing Battle Fleet Graviball against Kiti. Using the Gatas graphic as his ball.

Forfeiting the game, Vathion accessed Codas's scanner readings. They were currently on the outskirts of the planetary system Marak Station was built in.

“Shesa is sending the coordinates of a Rebel fleet - just past the ninth orbit of the Marak System, near our position; Ha'Clemmis has held off engagement, waiting for contact with either us or reinforcements,” Bibbole said, tail twitching. “It’s a sizeable force, and if they break through here, they could probably get all the way to Marak Station. They say Ha'Huran and Ha'Piro are also in the system, but not in a position to do anything. Ha'Huran might have trouble of his own as well.”

Frowning slightly, Vathion thought on that. His first battle and of course he would have to work alongside Ha’Clemmis, who was likely irritated with them at the moment, but known for having much more patience than some Imperial admirals. At least it was not Ha’Huran, who only had Se'Mel still out of the three agents he'd had on the Fleet. One agent was dead, the other was utterly missing - or so the message Pi’Xian had sent yesterday said. Ha'Piro's agents were all missing.

‘No choice.’

“Is it safe to respond to them?” Vathion asked and got a nod of agreement. “Tell them we’re coming.”

Again, the Hyphokos nodded and turned away. Fae’Erekdra nodded, taking this as an order and picked up the coordinates from Bibbole as the com officer told the rest of the Fleet. It was nice having a bridge crew that could take a hint.

Bibbole looked back at Vathion, “Message sent, sir...” Bibbole remained turned towards him, staring.

Eyeing the Hyphokos, the young man shifted uneasily. “What?” he asked, breaking his calm exterior, which was the only thing composed about him at the moment.

“Permission to speak, sir?”

Everyone was looking at him again. “What?” Vathion repeated.

Bibbole cleared his throat, “Could you... just smile a little? It’s... weird having someone who... well, um. Looks just like Ha’Natan sitting there scowling. It’s unnerving.”

For a long moment, Vathion stared at the older Hyphokos, realizing once again that most of the people on board his fleet were twice his age or better and he shifted nervously, then pulled his lips back in a particularly vicious Wolfadon styled smile, “Better?”

The Hyphokos folded down his large flexible ears. “Forget I asked, sir,” he requested and turned back towards his screen.

Vathion flicked his gaze around the rest of the room, finding everyone else avoiding looking at him, shoulders hunched. “Hey!” he snapped, temper flaring, “I can’t help it! You think it’s fun being mistaken for him all the time?” he raved as he lost his temper, flailing a fist in the air, then stopped himself as he realized what he was doing. It was not their fault either, it was Natan’s fault for dying, and that was the bottom line, and his father’s fault for being so blasted good at everything.

Sighing, he got to his feet, “Fine,” he muttered and reached for the basket hilt shock baton at his hip. He had practiced this many times in his youth - usually with a stick, pretending to be a captain on one of Natan’s ships when he was little, but when he had gotten Battle Fleet, he had lorded it over the Xarian’s bridge on his game.

Once, it had been his dream to be on this ship. He had only wanted to spend time with his father. Now, it was only a matter of time before he screwed up. If his bridge crew did not kill him, the public would - or the Rebels. Unfortunately, he was stuck with his decision. He had been given the choice to hand the Fleet over to Gatas and he had said no.

His crew had turned to look at him again, some peering over their shoulders. Grasping the baton, he took a breath and drew it in a dramatic arc, pointing forward firmly, “Onward mates!” he shouted Spectacularly, cocking his chin up with a smirk, “For the Empire!”

The bridge crew looked back at him, light coming back into their eyes, “For the Empire!” they shouted - except for Gatas.

Vathion sagged, sheathing his baton in the loop on his belt. “I can’t believe I actually did that...” He sat again.

Ma’Gatas turned, arms folded, “You can go back to your game, Ha’Vathion. I can handle this.”

Vathion eyed Gatas for a very long silent moment, pondering saying something snide, but deciding that he did not need to pick a fight with Gatas, no matter how abrasive he was. “I think not, Ma’Gatas,” he said, subtly reminding Gatas that he did not hold the title of Admiral. Resting his hand on the hilt of his baton, Vathion continued, “I want readouts on the enemy position as soon as you can get them, Li’Codas,” he ordered, “Ca’Bibbole, I want a channel opened to Ha’Clemmis soon as we’ve joined him, I’ll take it in the office.”

Puffing, Gatas stated, “There is absolutely no need for you contact him in private!”

Taking a breath, Vathion shot a glare at the second in command, “Yes, indeed there is, Ma’Gatas, because you saw fit to can his people! I have to apologize to him and carefully ask him to send some replacements without looking like a total fool, and I do not need you distracting or arguing with me in front of him.”

Gatas stared.

The bridge crew stared.

He licked his lips and settled back in his seat again, “I’ve told you all before that I’m not going to put up with you going behind my back and undermining my orders. You forget what this fleet was designed to do. We’re the emperor’s Ace; we’re supposed to sneak around in strange places and pop out unexpectedly and kite around the universe on a whim. I understand my father’s motives fully, and intend to employ them myself.”

Bibbole turned his chair around and took a breath. “Permission to speak, sir?”

Vathion nodded.

“Ma’Gatas is only worried about the fleet,” the com officer said, “He’s worried that you’re not capable of thinking things through. He’s afraid that you’re going to disregard the advice of your elders and get us into trouble. This isn’t a game; you’re playing with real lives.”

Taking a breath, Vathion controlled his temper and remained silent, considering those words from all angles as other members of the first shift bridge crew peeked back at him. “All right,” Vathion stated, “I understand that. However, I don’t see how having meetings behind my back and arguing with me on the bridge is a better way to handle the situation. This is not the first time Ma’Gatas has objected to a destination,” Vathion stated, “In fact, it’s rather a main point of the show that he complains about everything. I have overheard my father complain about this insubordinate attitude on a number of occasions. If you have actual complaints with how I am running things, then by all means, report them to me, but do so in an adult fashion.

“I won’t have any more outbursts like Ma’Gatas’s. I’m aware that this isn’t a game, I’ve lost my father already, there are four crew members dead - none of whom have records of getting drunk, two of which were the emperor’s men, one Ha’Huran’s and the last was a man my father trusted greatly - who you might recall had been missing since Ha’Natan’s body was discovered. Gatas made a mistake in getting rid of the agents - Ha’Huran is probably very angry with us now, the emperor was angry. And, I believe the rest of the people that got fired that day were eliminated as well - for that very purpose; to get our allies mad, as well as hiding the body of Se’Valef.”

Li’Codas was a man with limp green hair and a pasty face. His eyes were droopy and a matched his hair - he really did look like a cucumber, “But - we all reviewed the surveillance file! We all saw that it was Valef that attacked Ha’Natan.”

“The video jumped,” Vathion stated, folding his arms in a firm and confident posture, “Between the time when Valef patted Natan’s shoulder and the point where he fell. I did a project like that in school. The point of it was to make a video of you fighting yourself using double exposure and editing, no help from an AI or you fail the project.”

The two weapons officers, looked back at him, they were a pair of sisters with bright orange hair and green eyes. The Carrots. “So you’re suggesting that someone doctored the surveillance image?”

“Yes,” Vathion said, “However, I’ll keep to myself what I know and have found, as our enemies have proven that they’re willing to take extreme measures to ensure that those who know too much are silenced. And if Valef was framed, which I believe he was, then the killer should still be onboard - if Ma’Gatas didn’t fire him.” He did not need to say that the killer had to have a fairly high rank to be able to get clearance into the system to hack the surveillance files. Suspiciously, Ma’Gatas had been silent this entire time, though he was glowering.

Vathion turned and headed into the bridge office without another word, sat down at the desk there and gulped a breath.

Of course there would be bad blood the first time he spoke to a real Imperial fleet admiral. The wallscreen on the other wall lit up with the blocky wrinkled face of Ha’Clemmis. He had silver hair that had once been a deep blue, but his eyes were still that deep watery blue and sharp. His wide lips were pulled down in a scowl and the pale gray Imperial Navy uniform suited him well.

“Ha’Vathion,” he greeted coldly.

This conversation was going to suck.

Taking a breath and putting on a polite smile, Vathion tried to think back to his game. How would the admirals take the events? Clemmis was, to Vathion’s limited knowledge, something of an ally to the Natan Fleet, so his calling on them for aid was not anything unusual, but the relationship had not been between friends - rather, grudging equals. “Ha’Clemmis,” he said, “I was wondering if you had a few extra personnel to lend me,” Vathion started with, deciding to get things off to a better start, “Seems my AI had a glitch the other day.” He mentally apologized to Kiti for using her as his excuse, he did not want to admit that he was having problems keeping his officers under control, “Kiti accidentally sent out dismissal notices to several crew. I countered what I could, but a few had already left by the time I was informed of the mistake.” Thankfully Clemmis had retained one of his three agents on the Xarian, so that would make it a bit easier.

Ha’Clemmis still did not look happy; he had not changed expressions at all. “I want your credentials,” he stated, “and I want them now.”

Vathion retained his smile, though he feared it had gone a bit curdled. “Ha’Clemmis, I don’t believe you have that kind of authority over me. This fleet is privately owned and maintained. We don’t have to work for the emperor,” Vathion nearly winced, realizing that he should not have said that, and quickly added, “But we do, out of loyalty and common goal of restoring peace.”

“I want your credentials,” Clemmis repeated, “The emperor said you were going to work with us. I want to know who you are.”

Silently, Vathion cursed the twitch of his brow. “The emperor said I would work with you. That should be enough.”

The older man leaned forward, looming on the wallscreen and scowled darkly, “I’ve got the ships to tie you down, boy. I will if I have to.”

Boldly, Vathion stared the man down. “And do what with us afterwards? Report us as defectors? The emperor wouldn’t believe you.”

“You’re not in a position to put words in the emperor’s mouth,” Clemmis pointed out superiorly.

Smiling, Vathion said, “If you wish to take this to him then do so. However, I remind that there are Rebels in this sector of space and I’m still in need of an engines operator, and Ferret pilot. If you happen to have contact with the two that previously filled those positions, then I will have them re-sign their contracts with the Natan Fleet.”

Still, the Imperial admiral was not pleased and growled, “What kind of game are you playing?” he asked.

“None,” Vathion stated, “the dismissal of personnel was a case of exceeded authority.”

“You said it was an AI glitch,” Clemmis pointed out belligerently, “So which is it.”

“Take your pick. Whichever suits you,” Vathion returned, his smile having fallen from his lips. It had never reached his eyes in the first place; this was going down the tube real fast. “Problems always accompany a change in authority,” he added, “However, that isn’t any of your business.”

Clemmis snarled, “I want to talk to Natan.”

‘Wonderful.’

Vathion knew he should have stayed in bed today. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, sir. My father has gone on his vacation. He didn’t leave me a number to reach him at. He didn’t want to be bothered, or allow me an easy way to cop out of making my own decisions. When he wishes to speak with me, he calls.” At least it sounded like something Natan would have done.

The Imperial admiral still was not happy with the answer, “Rather irresponsible of him.”

Giving a shrug, Vathion said, “Yes, but he’s known for being eccentric and brutal when he has to be. It’s his way of testing me.”

“Bloody inconvenient!” Clemmis snarled. “I still want your credentials!”

Taking a breath, Vathion stated firmly and undiplomatically, “No. The emperor has all my information and you may petition him for permission to see it, but it is my right to refuse you as I’m not under your command. I will retain my privacy and politely request you send some replacement personnel over after we destroy the Rebel fleet you found.”

Clemmis, eyes hard and scowling, stated, “Before,” he ground out. “And you need a few lessons in finesse.”

Vathion managed a smile again, it felt plastic and brittle on his lips, “Current circumstances require a ...blunt approach,” he stated, “What were your plans of attack on the Rebels?”

For a moment, Clemmis refused to answer, just stared at him silently. Vathion kept his teeth clamped on what he would have said - which was another jab at the admiral to try and get him to relent. “You’re nothing like your father,” Ha’Clemmis stated finally after sizing him up. At least his tone was a little more reasonable.

“Good,” Vathion said, “I’m glad you’ve realized that.” He could have kicked himself for the snide tone he had taken. If this were Battle Fleet, he would have lost points for this conversation. Any more like it and he would go down a level. From now on, he would have to watch his tongue when he lost his temper. He could not just go back to his last Saved Game.

Another round of silence fell, and Vathion feared he had undone what little progress he had made with Clemmis. The other admiral stated, “I’ll be sending two crew over to assist, until you come in to port at Marak. Will you be taking on official replacements then?”

Vathion nodded, “Yes.”

Ha’Clemmis shifted slightly, and with a sour twist to his lips, typed something on his keyboard. “Sending you my battle plans,” he announced.

Nodding again, Vathion gave Kiti the mental command to receive them. Before he could say anything more, Clemmis stared at Vathion, pinning him with a look that made the young man think the Imperial admiral could see right through his flesh and bones to his very thoughts and soul and apparently did not like what he saw there. “I hope,” Ha’Clemmis stated, “That whatever plans you come up with will not cause undue damage to my fleet.”

Taking a breath, Vathion prepared to answer, but the screen suddenly went blank. “Screw you too!” Vathion shouted at the top of his lungs, lifting both fists to rave at the empty screen. He brought his fists down on the desk top hard enough to bounce the other end.

Dearly, Vathion wished he had something to throw, but he gulped a breath of air and thumped his elbows on the desk, sending a tingling jolt up through his left arm as he hit it wrong. Wincing, he rubbed his hands together, “Open Battle Fleet,” he ordered and the game opened on the wallscreen opposite him. “Open file on Ha’Clemmis.” Vathion had not had much contact with the man on his game, and he knew that he had probably bungled the situation completely. Reading over the file, Vathion sank his head down onto the table with a thump. “Bugger!”

Apparently Ha’Clemmis did not respect people who resorted to being blunt. He was of the opinion that they were rude and uneducated.

“Oh hell!” Vathion whined, “Now he thinks I’m a fool!”

He thumped his forehead on the desk a few times, successively getting more force behind it, “Stupid! Stupid!” he chanted. His worst nightmare had come true again. He had screwed up at the worst possible time.

The door opened and Paymeh stepped in. Kiti had probably called him. “Yes, stupid, now get over it.”

“Piss off,” Vathion growled.

Climbing up onto the table, Paymeh reached down at grabbed Vathion’s hair, pulling his head up off the table, “No! You listen,” he told the boy. “You make a mistake, you live with it, you learn. You told Clemmis that you’re still learning, and he respects that. He gave you a warning, you show him in battle you know what you’re doing and he’ll respect you!”

Wincing, Vathion lifted his hands to his hair to try and pry Paymeh’s fingers free, but the Hyphokos continued to pull until Vathion was sitting up fully. Paymeh moved to stand on Vathion’s shoulder, keeping a hand in his hair. “Either way,” Paymeh stated, “If Natan hadn’t died or if he had, he’d have put you through this. Good learning experience.”

“Is he really dead?” Vathion asked, tears in his eyes from combined grief and the pain of having his hair pulled.

Paymeh sighed, “Memory Lives On,” he paused and looked Vathion over. “Trust your instincts,” he added, “When you really need help, just calm down and let your mind wander. The answer will come to you. Now. Look at the battle plans Ha’Clemmis sent and think of something!”

At last, the Hyphokos let go of Vathion’s hair and smoothed it in a gesture Jathas had often used to sooth his friend.

Taking a breath, than another, Vathion finally felt calm enough to get on with his life, awful as the thought of doing so was. “Alright. Pull up Clemmis’s battle plans,” he ordered and his screen, which displayed the back of his avatar’s head sitting in front of his quarters’ office wallscreen, opened the file they had received from Clemmis.

Paymeh moved, climbing off Vathion’s shoulder to sit on the desk to his right. “Run,” was the final order and Vathion watched as the battle plan played out. It was a complicated one, something that had some obvious places Vathion could have inserted his fleet - and gotten into it deep by the end of the battle if he did. No, Clemmis’s battle plan had been carefully crafted to make it so that Vathion could not do the obvious, but standing back and letting the battle go as it would resulted in Clemmis being defeated. Not getting involved was not an option if he wanted to prove his loyalty to the Empire. “So this is how he’s going to test me.” Leaning forward, Vathion narrowed his eyes. “Well, least damaging option is filling that hole he leaves in the center after his Sport class ships run through - dangerous place to leave an opening.”

Taking a breath, Vathion put his chin in his hands, “Kiti, run file again and have Natan Fleet join battle, starting position of cube, G-five-N, follow pattern set by the Imperial ships in the surrounding sectors,” he ordered. The program ran and ended with every last one of the Natan Fleet getting damaged so badly that they could not move or were destroyed. “All right, start off point the same, this time, make a run from start over to G-four-N,” hanging around with Clemmis was not an option, so Vathion decided to see if he could fill the holes Clemmis had left and hoped that the imperial admiral would stick with the plan he had sent. Vathion quickly worked through linking several holes in the plans, making a solid fortress of Imperials that the Rebels could not get through.

The door to the bridge opened and Bibbole stuck his head in, “Ha’Vathion,” he paused, looking at the wallscreen and frowning at the cartoon frame around the currently running battle.

“Pause,” Vathion stated, and then looked at the communications officer. “Yes?”

Clearing his throat, Bibbole shifted, “Ah, captains are requesting the battle plans, sir. Ha’Clemmis is also asking for your acceptance of their plans. Also, two Imperial crew members have been transferred and are awaiting orders.”

Nodding, Vathion looked at the screen and mentally played out the final of the battle. He would probably get Cinnamon damaged, but it was within acceptable limits, so he decided he was as ready as he was going to be and stood. “Kiti, package my strategy and send to Ca’Bibbole and Fae’Erekdra. Bibbole, inform Clemmis that his plans are acceptable and we’re ready, but don’t send him our plans. Additional note to Da’Itta on Cinnamon - tell her to be careful, she won’t have backup out there. As for the new crew, send them to their stations and tell them to follow the orders of the officers on duty.”

Giving a salute, the Hyphokos turned and left. Steeling himself for whatever Ma’Gatas was going to say, the young admiral headed out to take his seat on the bridge, Paymeh following behind. Mentally, Vathion ordered Kiti to transfer his game back to his station on the bridge as he sat.

Gatas, of course, was wearing an expression that suggested he was either very pissed or had hemorrhoids. It might have been both. “We should take the E-four-D position,” Gatas said, “And follow Ha’Clemmis.”

“No,” Vathion said, “I’ve already made our plans, and E-four-D will get our entire fleet destroyed.”

Face turning red, Ma’Gatas fumed at Vathion, “How could you know? You’ve never been in a battle before! You don’t know what the Rebels will do!”

Lifting a hand, Vathion raised his voice over Gatas’s ranting, “With plans like Clemmis’s, it’s obvious where the Rebels will move. He’s got his Sport classes on the front line and there’re only six of them, they’re not heavily armored so their only option is to either go straight through the Rebel formation or stop at the edge of it. It’ll be another few minutes before his Vans get into range. The strategy I made will allow Clemmis to take full advantage of his setup and surprise the enemy. Commence, Erekdra.”

Bibbole glanced back and announced, “Fleet captains agree to the plans, Ha’Vathion, and are ready to go. Ha’Clemmis has sent his orders to his ships. They’ve set off.”

Vathion smiled, glad that Clemmis was going to do what he had said he would, and tuned out Gatas’s ranting.

* * *

Vathion sat back in his chair and let out a slow breath as the Fleet took position in Clemmis's formation.

At the first sign of trouble, the Rebels had taken an arrowhead attack formation. Clemmis had reacted by moving in a phalanx with a gap between the first wave of his Sports and his Vans and Haulers. Vathion had chosen to place his fleet in that gap. He smirked behind his hand as the combat alarm sounded.

Clemmis's Sport class ships began moving forward at a steady rate and fired their first volley of missiles.

"Dump our first shift Ferrets," Vathion said, "Run standard point defense. Start phase one." At his order, the Natan Fleet began moving forward, their ranks splitting on the vertical axis to pass Clemmis's Sport ships and run parallel to the missiles.

Gatas turned, face turning red with fury, "This is insane! You know what will happen when those Rebels return fire?"

"Yes. I'm well aware that they'll miss us completely, Gatas," Vathion said and sighed. "The signatures on those ships indicate that they're older models, which means they've got a limited radius for return fire. We're well outside of that. And, I'm willing to bet that they've got lower resolution sensors. Right now, to them, it looks like we are on the same plane as Clemmis's missiles and when they fire back, it will go straight through our line. Why don't you relax and just watch the show?"

"This is not a show!"

Vathion pinched the bridge of his nose. That headache from earlier still had not gone away. 'Probably beating my head on the desk earlier didn't help either.'

"That kind of thinking will only get us killed! You're not some kind of adventure story hero who will win no matter what!" Gatas continued to rail, gradually getting louder. Vathion chose to ignore him and watched on his side screen as the Rebels did exactly as he had predicted. He used a finger to manipulate his screen, changing the angle of his view as the Sport and Van class ships of the Natan Fleet came to a stop in a cube formation above and below the triangle of Rebels.

"Commence phase two," Vathion ordered.

"You've left our Haulers out there completely undefended!" Gatas shouted, now standing at the edge of the step up to Vathion's chair. "And the Cinnamon is still damaged from before!"

"Ma'Gatas, sit down. The real damage to the Cinnamon couldn't be repaired at Baelton anyway," Vathion said, lifting a finger to tick off, "And avoiding fights isn't our job."

"You should have let me command in this battle! I'm more experienced -" the lights flickered as the Xarian took a hit. "And now we're going to get destroyed because of you!"

"Li'Codas, what's our status?"

"Minimal damage to engine two. A Ferret took out a missile at close range."

Vathion checked his screen again to verify that his four Haulers had successfully moved in behind the enemy formation and were now in a square with their full contingent of Ferrets out shoring up the Cinnamon's port-side blind spot, which had been put towards the center of the formation. Ha'Clemmis's Sports had slipped through the enemy formation to take advantage of the Natan Fleet's overlapping firing range. They were followed by the Van class ships, which broke to surround the struggling Rebel formation, but were unable to completely encircle. The Imperial Haulers remained where they had originally lined up, firing into the frenzied swarm.

"Begin phase three," Vathion said as he spotted the first of the Rebel ships beginning to take that small gap Clemmis had left at the rear of their formation.

"You should be pulling the Haulers back! They're not equipped to work like that! If you knew anything about how the Fleet was built you'd know that Cinnamon always works with Seven! They were built to compliment each other!" Gatas's spittle was hitting the floor in front of Vathion's toes as he raged, his facial scars standing out on his face as white lines amidst the pulsing red.

The Natan Fleet Haulers began opening fire from their position, easily preventing escape.

"No." Vathion said, feeling that he needed to address this. "The Seven and Cinnamon were built at different times, which proves your argument wrong right there, but if you want me to elaborate further why you're wrong I will. The Cinnamon and Seven are usually paired because when Natan added that extra level to the Cinnamon the resulting rewiring issues sapped her energy weapon firepower. To accommodate that, Natan beefed up Seven’s energy capability and turned the ship into a space-born sauna that can't shoot and shield at the same time. In short, he fixed one problem by making another."

Gatas's mouth flapped open and shut several times.

"Rebels are surrendering," Bibbole announced.

"What's the status of the Fleet?" Vathion asked.

"Relatively minor damages. Fighter capacity down twenty percent. Five percent lost," Li'Codas said.

"Hail Ha'Clemmis."

"You think you can just get away with this kind of juvenile arrogance-" The channel opened on screen one and Gatas swallowed the rest of his sentence.

"Ha'Clemmis," Vathion greeted, smiling pleasantly.

Clemmis snorted. “Good to see that you at least inherited your father’s brilliance in battle tactics, if not his silver tongue. I’ll take these Rebels in to Marak for detaining.” The screen blanked before Vathion could even open his mouth.