It is a generally accepted idea in the cultures of most intelligent species that being shot is bad. While a notable number of sentient creatures have various qualms about being on either end of a weapon, there is one part that is universally known as ‘the end to most avoid being in front of’. Unfortunately for many sentient creatures, weapons are not designed to take all participant’s opinions into account (usually). Because of their wholly undemocratic nature, weapons systems play major roles in the debate of various contentious issues in interstellar politics. The fiercest of these debates are often referred to as ‘wars’. – Excerpt from Dr E. Davilan’s ground-breaking book, Orbits. The work won several acclaimed writing awards, shortly before the author was admitted to the Horizon’s Wake mental ward for trying to defenestrate a member of the public out of a restaurant window.
* * * * *
While a Seeker-class destroyer was nowhere near the largest model of interstellar vessel in Alavon Territory, usually it was distinct enough to be easily recognisable on a standard far-orbit station. However Horizon’s Wake Station was in the Zeta Sector, and was as close to a crowd-funded and design-by-committee space station as was allowed in Alavon Space. Chaotically joined sections and haphazard corridors and piping from various modules meant that it was mostly avoided by tourists and ambassadors prioritising aesthetics for photos. The only thing differentiating the Aeron from another weirdly-designed-but-somehow-award-winning storage chamber was the darker hull of an Alavon ship with moderate stealth capabilities. I always tried to stay in sections that had a line of sight on the Aeron, so I wouldn’t get lost. The only reason I broke the rule was if I was commanded to by, say, a 2nd level admiral for a briefing.
When I arrived, the Admiral was busy with someone else, unusual for someone in charge of a backwater like the Zeta Sector. Soon afterwards, a man dressed in Imperial Observer Blue uniform was closing the oak door to the Admiral’s Office. He turned around, his hand extended. It took me a second to realise that it was for me. Did he hear me coming, or can he read minds? I thought.
“Captain Viloc, good to meet you,” the observer said.
How did he know me? Shit, he can read minds.
“Good to meet you too,” I responded, with no idea who he was.
I know you can read my mind, I thought, hedging my bets.
“I’ll be waiting by the docks for you, Captain,” the Observer replied, without a change in pace. He left the greeting room, walking down the hallway.
Wait, why is he waiting for me?
“See you soon!” he called back.
“You too,” I half-heartedly mumbled.
Boy that was weird.
I paused to collect myself, then opened the admiral’s oak door.
“It has come to my attention that the Aeron has been without an Observer for two months now.” The admiral looked up from her desk, either to see if I had anything to say or to add gravitas to what she said. I tried not to look guilty. She continued, looking back at her notes.
“A few years ago, this would have been a serious offence. Few decades before that, you could have been executed for commanding an imperial ship without an imperial Observer. You know how necessary Observers are to maintain loyalty.” The admiral did that look up thing again. I still thought that silence was the best option.
“However, I have been persuaded by my superiors that I should let the matter go. The tolerance for treason seems to have increased somewhat. I didn’t think that de-imperialization was so common in High Command.”
That wasn’t the actual reason for High Command letting me off the hook, but I didn’t really want to let the admiral in on that. Revealing the details of that operation probably would get me executed, de-imperialization or no.
“However,” she continued, “High Command does not have the authority to actively interfere in my sector without providing an official order, and they seem somewhat reluctant to put any of their demands on paper as of late. So, I will be providing you with a new Observer. He just left; you may have seen him.”
Oh, I thought. Probably should have tried to find out more about that guy.
The Admiral continued, “His name is Observer Silas, honours in the Alavon Imperial Academy. Some by-the-book authority would be good for your crew.” Again with the look up thing.
“Try not to lose this one,” she said, staring straight at me. The admiral was making a direct attack on the Aeron’s previous Observer, and my actual friend, Taline. I hope I hid my urge to strangle her well enough.
“The Aeron will also be receiving various software updates; I’ll leave the explanations to the techs. The Juno package is 3rd-level classified, so will be manually installed later. One of the most significant additions in the Juno package is the new computer system. It has increased overall ship performance in several varied objectives in simulations by 32%. On average.”
“32%?” I queried, doing some quick and hopefully correct mathematics in my head.
“Well, not exactly 32. It was 32 point… something, something. These things are never whole numbers.”
“Sorry admiral, I mean, 32 would put it over the threshold for the Blue Reaches Ban.” I said, really hoping that my maths was good now that I had said it to a 2nd level admiral.
“Correct.”
I relaxed a little that my maths was right.
“It is in violation of the treaty.”
I stopped relaxing.
“As such,” the admiral continued, “this requires utmost secrecy. We don’t want to give Thetrex any reason to invade simply because our computers are worth a damn now.”
You kinda just did though.
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