A Fatal Gamble

The Governor had an idea, and it was actually surprisingly good. The Captain, Aaron – he now knew, had given him the position of Governor specifically because of his creativity. There was only one problem; it was a gamble. Not only was it a gamble, but it was a gamble that could end only four ways... A long nap in stasis for a few hundred years, instantaneous and yet infinitely long lasting and painful death, a instantaneous and painless death or success...

Considering that three of the four outcomes were devastatingly negative... he doubted it would get approval...

The Governor cast a glance over at Aaron who was sitting with his hands in his lap, staring blankly into space. Still in shock by the look of it... who wouldn't be after going through what they had? Especially as it was so rapid and brutal. To have everything you had worked for for most of your life torn away in less than an hour... just... gone.

Taking this into consideration, the Governor did not ask permission to enact his risky idea. He simply got up and left, as if he was answering the call of nature. The Captain didn't even notice his exit as he was still staring intently at empty space with wide eyes...

The corvette class ship wasn't large, but the Governor still found the time to worry about everything as he made his way to the bridge.

Should he put the idea through to the guards? Or would he be better off disabling them and apologising afterwards? If there was an afterwards...

Could he do it? He knew the coordinates... but he did not know their current approach vector or coordinates, so any attempt to steer would be haphazard at best, especially factoring in that phase space distortions would undoubtedly effect the navigation computer...

He could not afford to rely on the computer... He would have to manually steer the ship and pray to any and all Gods that might be out there to listen in and bless him with a small nation's-worth of luck...

As he approached the bridge the possibilities spun his head. He took two deep breaths to calm himself and then stepped onto the bridge...


Antares sat in the command chair that he affectionately called 'the throne' aboard the colossal Vorastra Titan; Ragnarok. His face was visible only by the ominous orange glow of the holographic screens and the lights on the assorted controls he had hovering at his disposal.

His personal control chamber was separated from the main bridge, sitting in the center of it but surrounded by excess armour plating that made it virtually impenetrable to any boarding crew. He was normally the only person in it save a guard who occasionally entered to check he wasn't over-exerting himself.

The problem was, while the original bridge of the Ragnarok was designed for piloting the titan, it was also designed to be run by an enormous crew of several hundred highly trained officers. That was great because it meant that even if a boarding crew somehow got in and massacred half the bridge staff the ship could still function... it was however, not as fast as Antares would have liked.

From 'the throne' Antares had a direct neural link to the whole Titan. He could monitor any system, or every system should he so choose. He could simultaneously manoeuvre and engage in combat of every sort all the way from firing the Maw or the pulse beam cannons down to targeting individual strike craft with the point defence weapons. What this meant, was that the Ragarnok was not only the best armed ship of any class currently in existence, it was also more manoeuvrable and it could react at the speed of thought instead of the usual plodding reactions of a titan that was crewed by thousands of operators all of whom needed to coordinate their efforts and communicate before anything could happen...

This reaction speed was what had once allowed him to win a two versus one titan battle where the Ragnarok was the lone Titan. It was also what had allowed him to destroy an entire pirate raid by micro phase jumping to a position directly in front of the arriving raid and activating the Ragnarok's Maw ability to dispatch all but three of the pirate frigates in the space of a few seconds.

Antares did have a colossal raw IQ – something nearing 500 – as a result of a combination of naturally high IQ, psychopathy, Vasari augments AND psionic mind enhancing augments using technology stolen from the Advent. Unfortunately, he was only human. He could, and sometimes did, over-exert himself and collapse – usually with very minor consequences as the normal crew were easily able to clean up the few survivors as soon as they were granted control of the ship.

That was why the guard came in to check up on him. He had on one occasion rendered himself unconscious during a battle moments before a reinforcing enemy fleet had entered the gravity well... The titan had continued to slug out punishment, successfully destroying the entire threat and then drifting aimlessly until the entire titan ploughed into the shattered moon they had been fighting around... due to the augments Antares- or rather Antares' augments - had continued to operate the ship in his unconscious state... but as soon as his subconscious ran out of enemies to destroy it released control of the ship and awaited a new goal from the brain – a goal it did not receive. Unfortunately, stopping the titan from being drawn in by the gentle gravity of the shattered moon was a goal. One that Antares' subconscious did not act upon.

The guard was a veteran Vasari warrior. Well, officially at least. He was actually a highly trained assassin who ran 'personal' errands for his psychopathic master. He had no name – having shed it along with all relation to anyone during his initiation. He technically had no rank either, but 'friend of Antares' was a rank of its own accord and he had access to anything and everything his master did.

On this particular occasion the guard was on an assignment, which conveniently meant he was not there to notice the two human females clad in the loose fitting robes of Advent assassins step from the shadows. He was also not needed.

The eldest – probably no more than 30 years old - human female was still several meters from the throne when Antares swivelled round to face her. She froze in shock, she had been psionically masking her footsteps, her breathing, she had even been using her powers to contain any scent that might come from her body incase there was an animal present. How had he become aware of her?

That was when the second woman moved; stabbing the eldest in the back of the skull with a vicious looking blade.

The pale orange glow that glazed over the younger woman's eyes was clearly visible from across the room, despite the fact that the rest of her body seemed almost cloaked in darkness. Antares sighed audibly, before releasing control of the second assassin. With a gasp she fell to the floor to lie beside her now-dead comrade. The younger woman, however, was not dead. In fact, she was just regaining control of her own mind... and she was very confused; how did a human who ruled over the Vasari have the power to take control of her – a powerful psionic assassin – with such ease?!


She was answered a second later;

You and I are the same, that is how.

After a second she realised: He had not spoken verbally! And then some sort of aura became perceivable in the room... he was psionically sensitive! Well no wonder he noticed the two assassins who were probably giving off enough of a psionic signature through use of all of their cloaking!

She called out to the Unity, to warn them of this threat.

Nothing.

She sent out a sensory pulse.

Nothing... and then it pinged back to her. Something had reflected her sensory pulse? Then understanding came; the aura she felt emanating from the Emperor was not just for intimidation – although it served that purpose well enough – its primary purpose was to psionically isolate the area around them. She could no longer rely on her 'family'. Her Unity. She felt the shivers on her spine at the same time as she felt the aura wrap closely around her, invading her mind again. She tried to prepare herself to resist it.

She desperately flung out a powerful psionic attack that visibly moved the hovering screens, even causing the holographic projections to blink out for a second. She paused, she had honestly not expected that to work?

She sprang to her feet, already lifting the poisoned blades from her belt with her mind and preparing to fling them. She turned to face him, ready to re-target when he inevitably dodged to the side...

She paused. He was just sitting there? Surely he must know that she intended to kill him?

Do you really?

His voice... she couldn't quite place it... something about it was... almost familiar? Familiar and comforting... comforting like the feeling of a warm fireplace on a cold night...

She jerked back to reality. Where had that thought come from?! She had never sat by a fireplace. The Unity simply used lesser acolytes to vibrate the atoms in the air to generate heat when needed...

I did not know that before now; thank you.

Did he just thank her? He just thanked an assassin who's sole intention was to end his existence for a tiny tidbit of information? Perhaps he wasn't so much an enemy as misunderstood?

Did that really matter? Her mission was to kill him, not to judge him?

But is an assassin not also her victim's final judge? Is not all such work centered around judgement?

She thought for a moment; he did have a point...

Wait. Was she actually debating philosophy with her intended victim?! What had he hit her with to do that to her?

What makes you think I did this? You'd be surprised what people can realise when they actually stop and think for themselves for a moment...

"You're clearly manipulating my thoughts! Get out of my head!" She half-screamed at him. A very odd thing for a member of the Advent to say to anyone under normal circumstances...

She looked up, her outburst seemed to have changed nothing; he was still sitting in his throne smiling at her... it was a distinctly predatory smile.

She saw her opportunity. Probably her only opportunity.. and she took it.

With all the psionic force she could muster, amplified exponentially by her myriad of implants and her rage at having been forced to murder her sister in arms; she flung the poisoned blades at him. All of them.

The blades seemed on course, she noticed a fractional deviation and corrected it immediately. He wasn't even trying to deflect the-

And then the blades stopped in the air. They didn't decelerate, they simply stopped. In an instant. She pushed with all her mind, willing the blades to move forwards. To at least draw blood. Because the poison that coated them was strong enough to be used against many of the universe's larger animals too...

The blades were not going anywhere. It was as if they were suspended by a force stronger than the entire Unity!

You do realise you can't kill me, don't you?

The effort of trying to force the blades forward was taking is toll on her, her implants were straining. One near her hypothalamus was already overheating from the strain...

So stop?

She didn't know why, but she did. She let go of the blades. And in that instant she let go of everything. By that simple act she had betrayed the Unity, she had one mission and she was choosing not to do it for reasons she did not understand... Her 'family' would never take her back... there was nothing she could do to redeem herself for this betrayal except to kill him.

Well, why don't you allow me to explain?

"You're not going to kill me?"

No. I just said, I'm going to explain.

"And then you're going to kill me?" She queried, not even trying to hide the disbelief in her voice.

Only if you leave me no choice.

"I'm an Advent assassin, how is there any choice that allows you to not kill me?" She asked, half-willing him to provide a substantial answer to alleviate her fears...

There is always a choice – in everything. Was his only response, spoken in those soft... comforting tones... almost, but not quite, as if he genuinely understood.

And while the seeming contradiction in his last two statements did nothing to settle her nerves, she decided to trust him. And she placed her physical weapons on the ground and approached him. He in turn released her blades, letting them clatter to the ground as he activated a hover chair for her to sit in.


The Governor had reached the bridge, and his nerves were already in shreds. So much so, that when the bodyguard who was guarding the pilot asked him what he wanted he almost collapsed. The stress of circumventing the normal chain of command was bad enough, then trying to tell a crew who were not technically loyal to him that they were going to have to trust him with their lives... combined with the lack of self confidence that lurked over him since all of twenty minutes ago when he had had his last look at his beloved Kit-Kunis and he had finally understood that he, and all of the pirates, were not 'a force to be reckoned with' but merely a pawn in the games of the greater empires that dominated this system.

The guard, being well trained, promptly helped him to a seat and tried to help the literally shaking governor get his wits about him. He was so well trained that he did all of this without releasing his weapon or letting the doorway completely out of his sight. He had personally guarded the Governor and the Captain through many a hazardous time, including their ascension to those ranks, but he was still loyal to the Captain first and foremost – and pirates were, if anything, devious. He did like the Governor, and to some extent he trusted the man, it was simply his training that caused him to put on hand on his hip holster.

Alas, the Governor, being a keen observer, noticed this and it did exactly nothing to reinforce his confidence. The end result was that when the guard finally tired of trying to figure out what was wrong and politely but firmly told him to 'spill the beans' he practically managed to spew his plan, his concerns, the statistical odds he had calculated, the coordinates and half his life history by the time the guards finally told him to 'shut up' 'cuz it will all be ok'. Which he didn't believe for one instant.

Silence ensued. The Governor was sitting in a state of mind commonly found in men about to die and was too nervous to speak having worried himself half to death on the way up, the guards on the other hand were sharing glances. One glanced at the pilot in confusion; presumably querying if he had understood any of what the panic-stricken Governor had just blurted out. The pilot glanced out of the windscreen, into the seemingly never ending distortions of phase space, then at the various instruments and consoles, then back out into space, then finally back to the other three guards and gave the slightest nod. The governor of course, noticed this and finally succeed in calming himself - knowing that if they had chosen to execute him he would have seen a shake of the head or a thumbs down.

After a few more seconds of contemplation the pilot turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

"Do we have time to ask the Captain?"

"Probably, but by my calculations you have around 3 minutes to ask, explain and get approval before getting back to here."

The Governor knew it was a lie even as he said it, but while some of the guards may have suspected they did not question. On got up and led him to the secured hatch in the center of the bridge that led down tot he navigation computers. He entered the necessary codes, all three of them, and then hauled the hatch open with a colossal grunt he lifted the huge armour plated and magnetically shielded hatch all by himself... probably only due to the low gravity as such a weight would have taken 3 or 4 men or a winch to lift in Kit-Kunis' gravity.

"Help yourself Gov." was all the confirmation he received from the four guards, on of whom was still staring thoughtfully out into space.

The Governor almost asked if they were sure, but he knew better than to do so; time was of the essence. He lowered himself down into the cramped space that was designed to allow one maintenance engineer access to the nav computers in the rare event of an emergency.

With trembling fingers he opened the access console he knew controlled the phase drive and he began to type feverishly. His hands blurred over the keypad as if his life depended on it.

Come to think of it; his life did depend on it.

Within about a minute he was done, he checked his work once. Then to be safe he checked it again, not entirely satisfied with his first check. Then he checked it again. He was most of the way through his seventh check when one of the guards called down to tell him that the twelve minutes he had estimated in his detail blurting was almost up, so with a deep sigh he saved his work, loaded it into the mainframe and climbed out of the hatch.

"What next Gov?" Asked one of the guards.

"Now? Now we pray to anybody that will listen for luck, because we will need as much of it as we can get." he replied

After a few moments of silence the pilot piped up;

"Are ya religious man Gov?"

"No. But if this works I'll give it some serious consideration my friend..."

Now that the panic was over and their destiny was in fortune's hands, the Governor slumped into the proffered seat and passed out before he managed to get comfortable. Since there was nothing he could do any more and he had been thoroughly exhausted by his nervousness he didn't even wake up for the entrance of the Captain who entered the bridge, proffered exactly the same idea he just had and was met with the blunt answer of "The Gov just did exactly that, thanks to him we did it in time too, boss. Thank him when he wakes up."

The Governor missed the look of stunned surprise on Aaron's face, and he missed the offhand comment that Aaron made as he stalked out of the bridge to find somewhere to sleep. Had he heard the comment it might have brought back memories of a long time ago... a long long time ago when the Captain regularly used to say to himself "Great minds think alike."