This is the real chapter one of Symbol of Hope - though it will undoubtedly go through some more editing before it's put into book form. But, sneak preview.

 You'll probably notice a lot of things have changed between this version and the Deleted version - and even the posted chapters of Playing the Hero. I've made a slight modification to my writing style.

I'm definitely thinking of going back and rewriting PtH into this new style as well, and selling that and SoH in an omnibus form later, since these two books go together. I'm also still playing with the idea of posting PtH entirely on my website, seeing as how there's artwork in the print-form that you can't find on my website - incentive to buy the book.

Anyway. Click the READ MORE link below to veiw the chapter.

I hope you enjoy.

***

Chapter 1
(Finishing Touches)

The battle two weeks ago had been a disaster, and there was no two ways about it. Nearly a third of his employees had died. Most of his ships had been severely damaged, some nearly completely destroyed and it was only luck that they hadn't been. Vathion clicked his keyboard for the next personnel file. He had done this kind of thing in Battle Fleet - Natan had made sure that all aspects of commanding a fleet were properly represented in his game. However, Vathion had never had to hire quite so many at once. He certainly never wanted to again.

He shoved a hand through his hair. He had taken a shower a while ago, but the confinement to his office and forgetting to put deodorant on had negated his efforts to remain cleanly. That and the few times he had needed to run for the toilet due to nerves when he allowed himself to think about anything other than the task at hand. The shaking only lasted for a little while, and after a swish of water, the taste went away. The good part was that no one was likely to need him anytime soon, given that the entire fleet was docked at Marak. Huran, Clemmis, and Piro were out patrolling the area and hadn't had any more incidents since Vathion's little excursion.

As for that... Vathion still couldn’t even say for sure whether betrayal had been Gatas’s intention or not. It bugged him terribly. Without solid evidence that it was an attempted heist, Vathion could not fire Gatas or send him to trial as a traitor. His officers all supported or believed in Gatas still, which meant that getting rid of Gatas would mean mutiny. Oh, sure, the fleet belonged to Vathion, but if hiring replacements for a third of his overall crew was a pain, Vathion didn't want to even contemplate what hiring new officers would be like.

He sighed and scrolled onwards, searching through the file for any tags that might say who this woman worked for on the side.

As expected, this pilot was owned by someone too. The ratio of spies was a lot higher than usual. ‘Probably because no one trusts me. And I thought my life was lonely before.’ At least his ships had been repaired swiftly and efficiently - reversing at least ninety-percent of the deficiencies in armor and structural damage that had accumulated over the years the fleet had been in operation.

Vathion thumped his elbow on the desk and leaned his chin in his palm. “This is going to take forever...” He sighed.

“You haven’t eaten anything today,” Kiti pointed out.

“I’m not hungry.” Lifting both hands this time, he rubbed his eyes.

“You’ve also been up all night.”

Had he? Vathion couldn't remember. “What are you? My mommy?” he demanded, slamming his fists on the desk. “I’m fine!”

His screen went dark.

Glowering, Vathion stared at the screen, “Quit being juvenile, Kiti.”

“I am a program. I am not capable of being juvenile.” She even put the timbre of electronics into the speaker output.

Getting to his feet, Vathion breathed once, then again, “What’s your problem? You know I’m stressed out enough as it is, and now you want to do this?”

“Vathion...” Kiti’s voice softened, “Your vitals aren’t in normal ranges. I would like you to go see I’Savon, but you will not do that.”

“I’m fine!”

“You were vomiting blood an hour ago,” Kiti finally appeared on the screen in front of him, wearing the full uniform. “That’s not healthy, Vathion. Please go see I’Savon?” Her mint-colored hair was pulled back on one side in a braid down in front of her shoulder, a new hairstyle; one that reminded Vathion of his mother.

Swiftly turning away, he rubbed his hand across his eyes and swallowed. He really hadn’t needed to think about his mother. It was only a matter of time before she died now, since biologically, he was an adult. If she ever caught his scent again, it would be the end of her. Tipping his head back, he stared at the ceiling.

“Vathion?”

“I’m all alone. Dad’s dead. Mom’s dying. Jathas is dead. The only other friend I ever had was Mirith, and I - I can’t talk to her.”

“Why not?”

“She’s not here. She’s with Hiba right now, and I don’t want Hiba knowing everything that’s going on with me. If the public ever finds out about how much of a wreck I am... It would go just as badly as them finding out Dad’s actually dead.”

He glanced at her image on the screen, finding her biting her lower lip. “What’s wrong?” he asked, knowing it was bad news.

Kiti bowed her head and disappeared from the screen, only to be replaced by Interstellar News.

:This is an utter disaster! We’re all going to die if this keeps up!: said the woman being interviewed. Whether she was actually qualified to comment wasn’t made known. :I don’t know what’s going to happen to the Empire if this little upstart continues to fool around! Look at what he’s done to the Fleet! He’s stepping all over Ha’Natan’s legacy - his hard work!:

:He grew up in a broken home! He can’t be normal.: a man raved, :And how is he even trained at all? I’m worried about the future of the empire and the Fleet if this kid remains in control.:

:He has no idea how to design ships - who the heck would put a third wing on heavy-class ships other than a complete moron?: someone who looked like an engineer stated.

:He never seemed that smart in school,: one of Vathion's old teachers was recorded as saying, :Well, he got good grades, but he never paid attention. Only club he was in was fencing. Not really that useful a sport. Now if he'd been in the engineering club or something...:

The screen blurred in his vision and he quickly wiped his eyes.

:Of course, there has been no comment from Ha'Vathion about this item,: Joyce said.

:Not only has he lied about his age, he’s lied about Ha’Natan’s state of health!: someone said.

The image changed to a view of what Vathion immediately recognized as Paire in the middle of a debate with the Baelton Stationmaster - obviously from his first episode of the Show. Vathion had forgotten that had been completed and released. A highlight pointed at something just behind Paire's left shoulder, then magnified. There sat Natan’s urn, only partially hidden behind a book.

Whatever else was said, Vathion didn’t hear over the sound of his own cry of panic.

* * *

I’Savon’s expression was tight-lipped as she stared down at him, peeling his eyelid back to shine a light into it.

Vathion blinked, then looked around quickly, verifying that he was indeed in one of the seclusion rooms in sickbay. After all, sickbay rooms were unmistakable. Diagnostic equipment and screens were built into the wall to his left. The bed he lay on had rails on the side. He could feel the medibrace chafing his arm; a tube ran from it to a clear plastic bag hung from a hook above him. The room smelled like antiseptic.

“How’d I get here?”

“You collapsed,” I’Savon stated flatly as she finished making a note on her datapad, then folded her arms beneath her breasts. “You realize you were severely dehydrated? In addition to a multitude of other problems related to not eating and not sleeping. I’m surprised you’ve even bothered to bathe given your apparent distaste for taking care of yourself.”

Moving to sit up, Vathion jerked against the strap across his chest. “What?” he looked down, then stared at Savon. “What is the meaning of this?”

“I figured you were going to try to run away as soon as you woke up. I’m not letting you out until you get some rest and that IV is finished. If you’re a good boy, I’ll untie you.”

Turning his head, he looked up at the bag of clear liquid. “I’m fine.”

Savon slammed the datapad onto the table beside the bed, “Like hell, Vathion! Your stubborn streak is going to kill you if I don’t do something drastic to get your attention! You have a bleeding ulcer! Your brain scans are off the charts - I don’t even know what to make of them! From what Kiti said, you had some kind of seizure. You’re not stable, you’re not healthy, and you’re a bloody liar!”

Head dropping back on the pillow, Vathion clenched his fists and breathed. “I... I have to go clean up the mess I made,” he said carefully, “with the media. They’re probably working themselves into hysteria right now...”

She placed her hands on the edge of the bed beside him. “How would going out there like this make them feel any better?” I’Savon pointed out. “Oh, I can see it now! Middle of a dock-side interview, you suddenly double over and puke blood all over your lovely fangirls! It’d be great!”

He paled at the thought.

Leaning back, Savon sighed and shoved her hair back from her face.

Closing his eyes, Vathion held his breath a moment, then let it out, trying to regain control. It wasn’t working very well. Something soft dabbed his cheek and he opened his eyes to find Savon perched on the edge of the bed, expression softened. “I’m sorry,” she said, “Yelling at you isn’t making anything better.” She brushed her hand through his hair. “Why don’t you talk to Paymeh? Holding everything in isn’t going to help...”

Clenching his teeth, Vathion breathed out hard before answering. “I don’t like Paymeh.”

“Vath - just because of one mistake...”

“No! He took the only friend that knew all my secrets. And I don’t like him personally. He’s manipulative and I don’t like it.”

Savon’s lips pulled downwards again, “Maybe you should talk to the counselor then?”

“And let him know what kind of a wreck I am? What’s to stop him from telling others?”

“What’s to stop me?” Savon pointed out, “Other than a professional confidentiality oath.”

Turning his head away, Vathion clenched his fists.

“You’re not a very trusting person.”

“Yeah, well, you try growing up as the unwanted son of the most famous person in the Empire. See how many people you can tell that to without them either thinking you’re crazy or worshipping you when all you wanted was a friend.”

Savon said nothing as Vathion stewed in bitter silence.

Getting up, she picked something off the bedside table - an injection needle. Flicking it, she squeezed the plunger then turned to Vathion’s IV tube.

“What is that?” he asked, having a feeling he knew what it was.

“A mild sedative. You’re working yourself into another fit.” Carefully, she inserted the point of the needle in, undisturbed by Vathion’s restrained thrashing.

“Stop it!” he shouted, “I - I order you to stop it!”

Calmly ignoring him, Savon finished administering the dose and stood. “Like I told you, you’re not getting out of here until you get some rest and that IV’s finished. I also need to monitor you in case that was a seizure you had earlier, and even if it wasn’t, it proves you’ve driven yourself beyond your limits. You’re too stubborn to rest on your own, so I’m going to ensure that you do.”

Furious, Vathion kicked against the restraints, “I’ll fire you for this!”

Savon gave him a look. Picking up her notepad, she headed out the door. The lights dimmed.

He stared hard at the ceiling, willing his body to ignore the drugs. “Mild?” Already the ceiling was wavering in his vision. He didn’t want to sleep. If he did, he knew he would have that dream again. The one of being trapped in his body, watching himself do stupid things and unable to do anything about it.

* * *

He sat up with a gasp, heart pounding, and body cold and aching.

Savon stood startled at his side. “Vathion?”

Breathing heavily, he put his hands to his face, then shoved his fingers through his hair, slicking it back with the sweat he’d broken into. “I’m fine.”

“The more you say that, the less I believe it,” Savon stated with a slight frown. “Either way, the Emperor is calling.”

Sliding his feet to the side of the bed, he made to get up, only to have the back of his shirt grasped. “I’m not done with you,” Savon said.

“I have to answer the Emperor.”

“Answer him here.”

Vathion glared at her, “You realize that the Empire is currently in turmoil over everything I’ve done. The Emperor is probably calling to chew me out about that - you think he’s going to like it if I answer the call from an isolation room in sickbay? You know what kind of message that will send?”

Sighing, Savon released him, “Then answer it from my office.” She stepped around the bed and headed for the door - blocking his escape out of sickbay. Sighing, he turned left instead and stepped into Savon’s office at the end of the hall. Taking a seat at her desk, he stated, “Kiti, transfer the call in here.”

Immediately, the screen lit up. Daharn was not wearing his official garb. He also appeared to be in a private study. “Vathion,” he sighed, “Where have you been?”

“Sorry. I was discussing what to do with the clone with I’Savon,” Vathion said.

Daharn nodded. “I was calling to tell you that I’ve come to a decision about the Toudon sector. I’d like you to check it out.”

Tipping his head slightly, Vathion quirked a brow. “This isn’t due to the mess I made, is it?”

“Vath, I know you’re probably upset, but this is the same thing Natan had to deal with. You’ll be alright. I endorse you. Clemmis does too.”

“Clemmis?” Vathion blinked incredulously. “What’d he say?” Vathion had only had a few conversations with Clemmis, and none of them had gone very well. Vathion was just too blunt for Clemmis’s tastes and only time would change the man’s opinion.

Daharn snorted with a hint of a smile, “That you were a necessary evil. Just go to Toudon. I’ll see what I can do... Unfortunately, I don’t think you’ll ever have it easy. Not because of anything you’ve done, just because of what you are.” He paused, “what was the decision on the clone?”

“I’m going to have her destroy it,” Vathion said, “There’s no reason to keep it around.” Daharn nodded.

“Keep in touch,” the Emperor said, “I look forward to seeing your report.”

Saluting, Vathion cracked a bit of a smile.

The screen went dark and Vathion sighed.

“You lied to him.”

“I don’t want him needlessly worried,” Vathion said and got to his feet. “How is the clone doing, anyway?”

Savon folded her arms beneath her breasts, frowning deeply. “It’s doing fine. Growing normally as far as I can tell. I wouldn’t know, though, since full-body clones are mildly illegal. How long has the Emperor known?”

“Since I found out,” Vathion said, “About the second day I was on the Xarian.”

Her brows rose in surprise. “I suppose I underestimated you.”

“It’s not uncommon.” He turned, gesturing at the curtained off area in the back of Savon’s office. “Incinerate it or something. I don’t care. I just want it gone.”

She stared at him. “How can you so blithely order that?”

“Because I have to!” Vathion snapped, “This room reeks of him - worse than my quarters did when I arrived! I’ve been wearing his clothes, looking at all his stuff! You think this isn’t hard on me? You think that my body isn’t screaming at me - calling patricide? I do what I have to do, I’Savon; just as you do.”

Savon moved to block the door. “I’m not done with you yet. And while I know this is probably inappropriate to talk about after the last topic, if I don’t talk to you now, I likely won’t ever get the chance.” Vathion stared at her.

“Something’s wrong with your brain. I don’t know what, but I think it’s going to kill you or drive you completely insane if something doesn’t get done about it.”

Unnerved by his silence, she continued, “The only way to keep you going for longer is if you take better care of yourself physically. I can’t say how long you’ve got.”

“What brought you to this conclusion?”

Blinking, she straightened slightly, then turned, heading for her desk and brought up her files. “This. It’s your scans. There are two lines here. It almost looks like you’ve got a hyphokos merged with you, but I double checked while you were out. You don’t. And both lines are strong, which even if this was the brainwaves of a hyphokos,” she tapped a key and brought up another chart, “It would look like this. This is mine, with Kiena bonded. Kiena’s thoughts are here,” she pointed at a faded line slightly lower on the graph. The lower line never fired above the dominant line.

Vathion stared at his scan, noting how the second line was only a fraction below the first - how it frequently shot well above the other. “Any thoughts on what to do?”

“None.”

His expression darkened.

“Don’t give up,” she reached out to grasp his shoulder. “I’ll figure something out.”

Brushing Savon’s hand off, he turned and headed out the door.

* * *

Stepping onto the bridge, Vathion looked around, finding that it was the middle of first shift.

Bibbole turned to face him, ears cocked back in irritation. “The news networks have been calling nonstop, Ha’Vathion. They want answers.”

“Well I haven’t got any they’d like. Tell em to piss off. I’ve got work to do.” Vathion stopped at his chair. “Call crew in. We’ve got somewhere to be.”

Bibbole did not immediately do as told. Instead, he turned his chair to face Vathion. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to get hold of you for several hours now.”

“Does everyone have to know my whereabouts at all times?” Vathion asked.

“Considering that the last time you went MIA we had an emergency,” Bibbole snapped back, “I think that I at least need to know where you were.”

Holding his temper by the shorthairs, Vathion breathed. “I was onboard. Kiti would have contacted me if there was really a problem. The media having panic attacks isn’t my problem.”

“It should be!” Bibbole slammed a fist on the edge of his station, “Vathion - running off is irresponsible.”

“I was in sickbay!”

Codas turned to stare at Vathion, mouth open.

Straightening, Vathion looked away, “Does that make you happy, Bibbole? Maybe next time you should just take what I tell you and leave it.”

Bibbole folded his ears back in distress. Taking another breath, Vathion continued, “Now. Tell the media to piss off and tell my crew to get back aboard. I’ve got more work I need to do, so I’ll be in the office.” He turned and stepped past his chair.

“Vathion,” Kiti said softly as soon as the door closed, “You still haven’t eaten. Please eat something?”

“I’m really not hungry,” he shook his head and took a seat at his desk, “transfer the files I was looking at to this screen.” Nothing happened. He sighed. “Alright. Fine. Give me something to eat.” He swallowed hard, “something... light?”

The files appeared this time and Vathion began going through them, swiftly as he could, approving as he went. So far, nothing had shown up out of the ordinary.

Shortly afterwards, a bowl of warm, mushy cereal appeared. Kiti must have had it on hold. Taking the bowl, Vathion winced as he swallowed the first bite, then made his way through the rest of it just as he slogged through the remaining files.

Setting the bowl aside, he closed the final file and said, “I can't believe Hiba put that in there... It wasn't there during my conversation with Baelton's Stationmaster. But it was during my call with Hiba."

“I’ve removed the urn to a safer location.”

Vathion sighed and thumped his elbows on the desk, putting his face in his hands. “What am I gonna do about it? What can I do about it?”

“Nothing,” Kiti said regretfully, “You were ordered to Toudon.”

“I know.”

“All crew have boarded,” Kiti reported.

Getting to his feet, Vathion shoved his hands through his hair. “I should get a shower. Should have.” He sighed and stepped onto the bridge. “Tell Marak we’re heading for Baelton. Coded transmit to Fleet - Jump three deggs towards Baelton. Stop and head towards Toudon.”

“But - why?” This time it was Erekdra who asked.

“I thought everyone was done questioning my orders.” Vathion took his seat. Rubbing his eyes, he crossed his legs, then turned to his screen attached to the right-hand arm of his chair. “Just do what I tell you. I'll explain when we get there.”

“Sorry to argue with you, sir,” Chira stated flatly, “But honestly, right now you’ve really not given us much reason to do what you say.”

“The Emperor ordered us to Toudon. So we’re going to Toudon. Now do your job.”

Vathion could feel the tension in the room. It was nearly thick enough to slice with a butter knife. Breathing a sigh, he shook his head and looked around to find them all staring at him. “Look. If this is about the media disliking me - so what? Dad went through the same thing. Everyone thought he was an upstart and nothing but trouble, but after he started getting results, things smoothed out. Gilon and Hyphokos don’t much like New. I’m new. There’s nothing I can do about what they think, other than just get on with getting results. Okay? So can you all quit with this and get back to work? Or do you want to waste everything my father did?”

When they had no reply, Vathion turned back to his screen. He needed to finish a few last things before they reached their stopping point. “Honestly, if I really wanted to, I could replace you all. I’m not going to do that because I do value your experience.”

“What about Gatas?” Arih asked, partially turning to look at Vathion.

“He attempted to usurp command from me. I won’t put up with that.”

“He was doing what the guidelines stated should be done,” Bibbole retorted.

“Sitting in my chair?” Vathion slapped his palm on the arm of his chair. “He can temporarily take command from his own seat if all he was doing was responding to a threat while I was absent! But - he took off in such a hurry that he left a good number of crew on Marak. Does that not strike you as mildly odd? Most of that crew was our pilots, which means we would have gone into that battle nearly completely unarmed! Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

Of course they didn’t have any answer to that, but they still didn’t believe that Gatas could actually heist the fleet. Vathion sat back, then got to his feet. “I’ll be in the office.” Turning, he headed that direction.

Taking a seat at the desk in the office, Vathion put his face in his hands again. He slid down to pillow his head on his arms. “Oh God,” he whispered. “I’m dying? Am I really dying?”

Thankfully, Kiti didn’t say anything and Vathion was left in peace for a bit. “I want to talk to someone, but I can’t...” He closed his eyes tightly. Mirith was really the only one he might have been able to talk to, except... Sitting up, he asked, “Kiti - is there some way you can prevent someone on the other end of a call from recording it?”

“Not really.”

He put his head back down and clenched his fists. “Nothing to be done but to get back to work... Just work until I die.”

It was likely to take an hour for them to reach their destination. As such, Vathion had two tasks to do. He needed to go over the AI he had programmed for his new fighters and make sure it was complete before letting his pilots into them, and he needed to talk to the new wing and squad commanders.

Vathion shoved his hands through his hair, and straightened his uniform. "Call the wing and squad commanders for all ships," he ordered Kiti. Obediently, the wall across from his desk lit up with a mosaic of images. "Ladies, gentlemen," he greeted. "You've likely received your new assignments, I wish to discuss this with you." His pilots didn't look particularly open to discussion, but he ignored their expressions and marched on with his speech. "You are all very experienced pilots, which is why I have promoted you." His squad commanders looked confused now. "With the upgrades to the fighters and the capitol ships, new tactics are also required, and in order to implement these tactics, a new command structure needs to be formed. Previously, there has been one commander for an entire ship's fighter wing. All decisions were deferred to that person, and as a result, they were required to keep track of up to a hundred little battles at a time. This will no longer be the case. Wing commanders have been assigned a squad commander for every ten fighters. This means that your squad commanders will keep track of their ten fighters, and Wing commanders will keep track of their six Squad commanders."

Now his pilots looked shocked and marginally relieved. "So, as you can see, the numbers on your fighters are not a demotion. Any questions?" Vathion asked. When there were none, he pressed a key to send them all the file he had gotten ready. "These are some of the new tactics I've come up with. You are, of course, invited to come up with more on your own. These are brand new designs - there is nothing like them anywhere else in the Empire. Be creative."

He signed out, leaving the others still connected to each other.

“Open the Fighter AI file.” Vathion sighed and let his shoulders sag. That had been marginally fun. He enjoyed surprising people - especially when the news was good. Now, though, he had the tedious task of coding to do. To save time, he had used bits of Kiti’s programming to use as the bones of his Fighter AI. Currently, it looked as if those would run smoothly with the framework he had constructed. The only thing left to do was test it. “I’d need grade-four implants though,” he sighed.

“Ha’Vathion, you already have grade-four implants.”

Blinking, Vathion tipped his head. “What?”

Kiti continued calmly. “You were given grade-four implants when you were twelve.”

“Oh.” He sighed. “Right, should have figured.”

After all, that was the kind of thing Natan did. Natan had spared no expenses on the schools Vathion had attended. He had given Vathion private tutelage from a Serfocile Linguist, which was no small an honor, especially for someone outside of the Serfocile species. “It’s surprising that Natan didn’t outright pick my friends for me.”

He closed his eyes and shoved his hands through his hair, then pillowed his head on his arms.

* * *

The bridge was quiet. Vathion couldn’t quite recognize the people at the stations, but they seemed to be doing their jobs, so he left them to it.

“God what a mess...” He sighed.

“Mess? Everything was fine last I checked. Did I miss something?”

Vathion blinked and turned to look to his left. Natan, looking down at him cocked his head to the side, then grinned.

“Uh, Gatas is more of a pain than I can handle. I got the Fleet trashed and spent all my money fixing it. The public hates me. My crew generally dislikes me. You’re dead and now everyone knows it. Mom’s dying. And I’m apparently dying or going insane too. ...Yeah, that’s about it.”

Natan blinked at him several times. “I suppose that is a bit of a mess. Wait... I'm dead?” He looked confused. “I'm not dead. Why’s everything so fuzzy?”

“Hell if I know. I’m probably dreaming.”

“Ha!” Natan grinned broadly. “I just always tolerated Gatas. Why can't you?”

Vathion sighed, “He tried to steal the Fleet from me. I sent him to his room. He constantly undermines my orders. He's poisoned the other officers against me. If this wasn't a privateer fleet, I'd have been replaced.”

“Ha! Grounded him, eh? That’s pretty funny!”

“You’re no help at all,” Vathion shook his head, feeling like the room was spinning.

“Vathion?”

"What?" He looked around blindly for the source of the voice.

"Please sit down, you're going to hurt yourself." It almost sounded like Kiti's voice.

Vathion looked around again, realizing that he was not actually on the bridge, but in his bridge office, standing next to his desk. "Oh." He let himself fall into the chair and folded his arms on the desk, pillowing his head.

Natan still stood next to him, looking mildly confused. “Where am I?” he asked, but then he too faded.