The Mandate of Heaven

500km above the surface of the Earth, the planet looked much the same.

Such were the thoughts of Commander Girik Singh as he looked through the bridge viewport of IFS Agni. Nicknamed "the agony" by its crew, even though it had never left the Sol system to take part in the Third Invasion. Built as late as it was, one didn't cross the vast reaches of space in the blink of an eye. Somewhere, his sister was on a colony ship to a world that she wouldn't see in fifty Terran years, but for her, it would seem like mere months. Somewhere, his parents were on the blue and green marble that was Earth. Key word on "somewhere," as last he'd heard they'd been trying to flee for Sri Lanka as Chinese forces closed in from the north. As the Agni hovered over the Indian Ocean, he looked down at the Indian sub-continent. From here, it looked like it always had for hundreds, if not thousands of years. From space, no borders could be seen, nothing to separate India from Pakistan, Nepal, Bangladesh, or China. To the untrained eye, India was part of one giant landmass that covered what humanity knew as Asia, Europe, and Africa.

Had the buggers seen the world that way, he wondered? Possibly. They'd landed in China over a hundred years ago, but they wouldn't have known it as "China." They wouldn't have known of "Russia" to the north, or "India" to the south. To them, it was a potential colony world whose 'queens' weren't budging. He cracked a grim smile – there was still one benefit to working in the International Fleet – he could engage in delusions that Earth was just one big marble, that borders and nations didn't matter, that humanity would remain united in the same way it had when the threat of destruction had hung over them. He could engage in the delusion that right now, India wasn't following the same fate as every country in south-east Asia, becoming part of the new Chinese Empire. Not that the Chinese called it a Chinese Empire, but anyone on Earth or above it knew it for what it was – conquest in the name of prosperity. Three centuries ago, Europeans had colonized the world in the name of bringing "civilization" to its peoples. Two centuries ago, the Japanese had attempted to bring "prosperity" to the Pacific down the barrel of a gun. One century ago, the formics had invaded without any weasel words to hide their intentions. Now, India was in the hands of a foreign power, European alliances was disintegrating as Russia renewed its own alliance with China, and Japan was standing as a bulwark against Chinese expansion eastward. Times changed. Other things didn't. Such as the IF's mandate that it only take part in extra-terrestrial operations, which meant no setting foot on Earth, and to take no affairs outside the launch of atmospheric weaponry.

So he stood there. Surrounded by men and women of over a hundred nations, bound only by the idea of a loyalty transcending their own countries, and the use of Common – another weasel word for English. English was the lingua franca of the world, it was the lingua franca of the fleet, it would be the lingua franca of the galaxy in time. He hadn't graduated from Command School by calling things by what they weren't – "bakavaas."

"Attention."

Case in point, as he and the rest of the bridge crew stood to attention as Captain Xiao Chen walked onto the bridge.

"At ease."

He dropped his salute, and watched the captain walk over to the view port.

"Anything to report?"

"No Sir." Singh paused. "Well, colony ship Aeneas suffered a drive failure, but there were no casualties."

"And?"

And I want to kick your arse to Eros you self-righteous piece of- "And colony ship Lincolnshire has reported that they've entered the Sol system's Kuiper belt."

"Hmm." Chen looked at him, then looked back at Earth. "Almost a shame, really."

Singh remained standing still. Very still.

"I mean, given the state of affairs on Earth, one might ask why people are even leaving."

Oh pis band.

"Which brings me to you of course." Chen looked at Singh. "As to your own future."

Singh blinked. "My future?"

"Yes. IFS Harvard needs a new commander, since Captain Mitchell decided to join ColMin. I thought I might submit your name forward."

I know what you're doing, Singh thought. You want me off this ship because you can't stand me, know I can't stand you, but we can't do anything about it. You don't want an Indian here because you're afraid, with good reason, I might find a creative use for the airlock. He forced a smile. "That's a great honour."

"Hmm, not really. The buggers have been defeated, so unless some other alien race decides to invade, the International Fleet is doomed to become a relic. Ergo, one must turn their attention to the stars or Earth."

"And what of your attention Sir?" Singh asked. "The stars, or the earth?"

"I'll turn my attention as my responsibilities dictate."

Singh didn't bother smiling – he could guess that Chen would return planetside as soon as possible, and would rub it in every chance he got. Oh, Chen was good – one didn't graduate from Command School if one wasn't good. Being conscripted into Battle School at the age of six hadn't done Singh any personal favours, but at least he'd had the gratitude of seeing all the other little shits be weeded out over the years. But Chen had stuck in it. Chen had graduated two years ahead of him. Chen, still being a shit, had waxed lyrical about taking out the buggers and avenging the atrocities inflicted on his homeland during the First Invasion. Only he'd never got the chance, and now…now he wanted conquest of another kind. Conquest he couldn't get, as long as he was in the fleet.

"I'll consider the offer," Singh said. "But may I give you an offer as well?"

"An offer?"

"Advice, then," Singh said. He took a step closer to the captain. "I know what you want to do. Everyone does. And while our loyalties are to the Fleet, not everyone is sold on your new 'prosperity' for Asia."

"Oh Singh," Chen smirked. "Do you really think I'm going to let terrestrial affairs get in the way of our working relationship?"

"Maybe. Or maybe I will take command of the Harvard, and order my crew to open fire on the ship that has a captain who supports a psychopath running China. A child, I might add."

Chen frowned – "Achilles doesn't command China. And remember, we were children once."

"And now we command the stars. Well, tell yourself what you want Captain. Tell China what you want. Believe in the Mandate of Heaven if it pleases you. But this is the heaven of Earth. And I don't give a rat's arse about your country's supposed 'mandate.'"

He gave a salute and turned to leave. Chen could do what he wanted. He was going to get off this ship one way or another. Chen might reprimand him, but Chen…Chen could go screw himself. He and every one of his people.

Agony, he told himself. How many people know that Agni is the Hindu god of fire?

Some, he supposed. And it fitted, considering that humanity had brought fire to the buggers, before turning fire on itself. And that made the ship's name more fitting than ever.

Agony.

He knew it.