Peripheral Visions: Olympia

They coalesce in the shadows and take shape in the corner of your eye. Peripheral Visions: You won't see them coming... until it's too late.

Olympia

"There's no response on the channel we were using earlier, Captain," Ramirez said from the comms station.

Captain Vigil stared at the image of Cygnae Formica II as it gradually grew larger on the screen. "We don't want to drop in unannounced..." Vigil shot a sidelong look at the diplomatic officer, Santos, who stood to his right.

Santos glanced back at Comms Officer Ramirez, who simply shrugged; then he spared a glance at the tactical station, where Chavez sat frowning at his readouts. His thoughts were obvious: Though the man who had issued the distress call had pleaded with the Space Exploration and Defense Armada for assistance in the face of the growing crisis, and though he had agreed to the offer of some three hundred ships arriving to ferry the people of the planet to safety, he had been suspiciously unforthcoming about certain details.

"No idea how many nations there might be down there," Vigil muttered, as much to himself as to Santos. "No idea if those nations are at war with each other. No idea what forms their governments take."

"It would have been better if he'd told us more," Santos said. "But the fact that he didn't is less of an issue than the crisis at hand. Three massive supernovae over the last quarter century, all in an area of less than two thousand cubic parsecs... and the Cygnae Formica system located right where the radiation fronts will converge."

"Radiation from one of the supernovae is already here; gamma levels in this region have been high for some time now," Vigil said. "But that's nothing compared to what's still coming."

"We're racing the second front," Chavez muttered. "But the third one... that's coming from the closest supernova, which is also the most recent, and the most intense. When the third radiation front hits in four months... it's all over for life in this solar system."

"The planet has a strong magnetic field and a thick atmosphere," Science Officer Otero put in from her station. "That will buy us some time. From what I can tell, they've been weathering the current radiation levels pretty well. But now that the second front is arriving, they're eventually gonna start losing... well, everything. Satellites, power grid... it's gonna be chaos down there. Plus, factor in the impact on the weather. Things are gonna get worse pretty quickly, and that will complicate the logistics of the evac. But it's not like there's a any better choice. Anyone we can't relocate... they're gonna fry."

"Which is why we have to work fast," Vigil told his crew. "If we can't get our ships in and out with a minimum of delay, we might not save anyone at all. I wish they had sent out their distress call sooner." Vigil turned to Santos. "Which is something I've been wondering about," he added. "Why didn't they?"

Santos shook his head. "Maybe they just didn't want to contact Earth after the last world war and the Great Exodus. We're always encountering colonies that left three hundred years ago and didn't bother to reestablish contact in all that time. A lot of them just don't trust us."

"They think we're Earthers," Ramirez said. "They think we're barbarians."

"But they had to know these fronts were coming," Vigil said. "If they couldn't get themselves off the planet, they had to know they were gonna need help."

"Another mystery, Captain," Santos said. "We know they didn't lose their technological know-how; if they can talk to us using instantaneous comms, then they must also be able to scan the heavens with FLT sensors. But between radiation garbling the transmissions, and the intermittent nature of contact with Forbin, there's a lot we just don't know."

"Forbin?" The captain cocked his head. "I didn't know our contact had given us his name."

"He didn't," Santos said. "We surmise his name is Forbin because after high-process analysis of the messages he's sent, it sounds like someone in the background addressed him by that name. But it could be crosstalk that has nothing to do with him. Or it could be that the interpretive software got a little too imaginative..."

"Forbin," the captain said. "Fine. We'll stick with that for now."

"What we really need to know," Chavez said, still frowning at his readouts, "is when we can start bringing in the ships. The captains are gonna be getting anxious before long."

"We're a proper starship, and we still only have our EM shielding and the hull to protect us," Otero pointed out. "Some of the evac ships don't even have EM shields, and their hulls are..." She lifted a hand and tilted it from side to side. "All you can expect from converted cargo vessels."

"Hastily converted," Santos added.

"But the colony ships have even better EM shielding than we do," Vigil said. "We'll bring them in last. The question is, given the ships' varying levels of radiation resistance, when will they reach their threshold exposure levels? What order do we bring them in, how do we best coordinate traffic and maximize both safety and efficiency?" He looked at Chavez. "Have you got those solutions yet?"

"Otero and I worked them out," Chavez said, "but if the rate of increase of gamma radiation exceeds our estimates, those calculations might not hold up very well. Still, we do have a timetable worked out. If we're going to stick to the schedule, we need to start bringing ships in..." Chavez glanced at the chronometer on his display. "...in no more than twenty-one minutes."

Vigil looked back at Santos. "Regardless of whether they respond or not, we need to move into orbit right away."

"They might not like that."

"They called us to come in and help," Vigil said. "They can deal with it."

"Unless they didn't," Santos said. "This guy Forbin might be acting on his own. In fact, we're pretty sure he is. In which case – "

"In which case, nothing. We're here to help." Vigil addressed Chalmers at the helm. "Take us into orbit around Cygnae Formica II."

The image of the planet on the viewscreen grew larger more quickly, soon filling the viewscreen. Striated clouds stretched over oceans and continents.

Vigil looked toward Chavez. "Tactical? What are you seeing? What are conditions like on the surface?"

"Give me just a minute, Captain." Chavez scanned data streams and then shot a look at Otero, who responded to his silent request by scanning through data streams in her turn. She gave a nod. "Sending you what I've got," Otero said.

Chavez scanned the data for a few moments, then turned back to the captain. "Surface conditions are tolerable, though there are already some pretty fierce storms in the Southern hemisphere, mostly over the oceans," he said. "If they've colonized the island chains down there... well, by the time the storms are done with them, there might not be much left."

"Looks like our projections are pretty accurate so far," Otero put in.

"Most of their cities seem to be in the Northern hemisphere, though," Chavez resumed. "Eighteen major metropolitan areas on the largest Northern continent. Three on the second largest. One each on the other two. And only one that I'm seeing in the Southern hemisphere."

"That's a lot of city building after only three hundred years," Ramirez said.

"Human beings," Otero said. "The weed species of the galaxy."

Vigil looked at Ramirez. "Anything on comms to indicate what the political or social situation might be?"

"I'm picking up a lot of pretty banal stuff from their OTA civilian data," Ramirez said. "I've only now managed to hack into their WorldNet, and a lot of the stuff there is the same. There's some entertainment programming, a lot of what sounds like religious propaganda, and what news they've got doesn't say much about politics or the economic matters, or even the current weather situation. If we didn't know this region had been subjected to rising levels of hard radiation for some time now, we'd never guess it from their media content."

"What about military or law enforcement transmissions?"

"All securely coded, sir, though I've got some good decrypt programs working on them."

Vigil looked at Santos. "No OTA or WorldNet communications around evacuation plans."

"And no mass movements toward anything that looks like a spaceport," Chavez said.

"So are they expecting us or not?" Vigil glanced at Santos again. "I have a bad feeling you're right about this guy Forbin. He doesn't represent the government – at least, not a major government."

"What worries me more is that the major governments don't seem to be doing anything about the situation," Santos muttered. "But, again, the intel analysis predicted that might be the case."

"More good news," Otero put in wryly. "I'm not sure they even have spaceports. I mean, they must have some sort of space launch infrastructure; they have thousands of satellites in orbit. But I'm not seeing anything that looks like a space station."

"And I haven't picked up any intra-system transmissions," Ramirez said. "Which I think confirms our first impression: They colonized the planet below, but haven't started colonization or commercial operations anywhere else in this system."

"With five habitable worlds?" Vigil said. "That just doesn't sound right."

"We do know that there were several independent colony missions headed to this general area of space," Santos said. "And this is... or was, a few centuries ago... the most habitable system in a ninety-six parsec sector."

"And there are no other colonies around here," Ramirez said.

"That we know of," Otero corrected him. "But we didn't know this colony was here, either, until we got their first message a couple months ago."

"And here we are, on their doorstep," Vigil said. He looked back at the viewscreen, and the planet below. "They have to see us in orbit, and they still aren't – "

"Actually, sir, they are," Ramirez interrupted, sounding excited. "I'm getting a transmission now..."

Santos held up a hand, preempting the captain's order. "Is it from Forbin?" he asked Ramirez.

"I... I don't think so, sir. It's on a very narrow, high frequency band, standard radio – nothing like the earlier transmissions. And it's coming from a point source on one of the cities on the main Northern continent, a direct transmission – not using the satellites like Forbin must have."

"What sort of building is the transmission coming from?" Vigil asked.

"Nothing overtly military. Looks like some sort of palace or something," answered Chavez, who had tied into Ramirez's readings. He looked at Vigil. "My guess is that it's from their president." He glanced at the main viewscreen. "Or their king, maybe. It's a pretty ostentatious building. There's a lot of what looks like military activity around it, but it's too ornate to be a military headquarters. In my opinion, that is, sir."

Santos sighed. "This Forbin is looking more and more like he was operating outside of official channels when he asked us here. Which means we're trespassing."

"Well, we're here now," Vigil said. He gave Ramirez an "open channel" signal, then looked back at Santos. "If that's all right with you."

"Of course, sir," Santos said meekly, as if apologizing for cutting off Vigil's orders earlier.

"Earth ship, respond," a forceful, angry voice crackled from the comm system speakers.

"This is SPED Service Vessel Olympia," Captain Vigil said. "We're not actually from Earth, but – "

"I don't give a good god damn," the voice said sharply. "Earth, or wherever you're from, you don't belong here. What the hell are you doing in orbit? This is a sovereign world."

"We don't dispute that," Vigil said.

"But here you are, without permission, in our airspace."

Airspace? Vigil mouthed silently to Santos, who looked equally puzzled.

"If we've offended you, we apologize," Vigil said. "But the radiation levels in this system are already high and they're only going to get worse. Not all of our ships – "

"You have more ships?" the voice screamed. "You infidels! How many of you have come to besiege us?"

"Sir, we're only here to help," Vigil said.

There was silence at that.

"Sir?"

"Here to help?" the voice asked.

"Yes, sir, as agreed..."

Santos made a sharp gesture, and the captain realized his mistake. A planetary emergency unfolding over years without significant governmental response, plus a distress signal that must have come from someone acting on his own, perhaps in defiance of orders, added up to one thing: Chances were, Olympia had stumbled into a volatile political situation.

That possibility seemed all the more distinct when the voice snarled, "Agreed? To what, and with who? I have never spoken with you or any of your kind."

Again, Vigil mouthed words silently to Santos: My kind?

Santos looked a question at the captain, who nodded permission.

"Sir, my name is – "

"Who is this, now?" the voice barked.

Santos showed no sign of offense at the interruption. "This is Diplomatic Officer Jarve Santos. What the captain said is correct, sir. The radiation levels in this region of the galaxy are rising – you must have noticed it over the last several years, but they are now spiking to higher levels. In a few months' time, they will jump again, to levels that will make your planet uninhabitable."

"Don't you dare intrude on our world and start repeating claims about the Supernova Hoax!" the voice shouted.

Santos sighed quietly, but his voice betrayed nothing of his exasperation as he replied, "Sir, we're not here to take sides in any debate, but the danger is not a hoax. It's real. Radiation fronts resulting from three different supernovae are converging here. This system will be sterilized. No human or other known life will be able to survive. Even if you might happen to be synthetic life, you'll perish – unless your installations are deep underground, and even then – "

"Blaspheming hoaxer!" the voice barked. "Synthetic life? An insult to God!"

Vigil and Santos looked at each other again. Even Santos was left speechless.

"Leave our space at once, or we will open fire and shout with joy as the flaming wreckage of your spacecraft showers down!" the voice commanded.

Vigil shot a look at the tactical station, where Chavez shook his head and rolled his eyes. The man was making empty threats; the civilization below had nothing that should worry a capital ship like Olympia.

"I don't think so, sir," Vigil spoke up.

"You said what to me?" the voice gasped, sounding incredulous.

"I said, sir, that we have come a long way to offer our help. Which you truly need. Which you are gonna die if you don't get. We assembled a fleet of three hundred ships – "

"An invasion force!" the voice screamed.

"A rescue operation," Vigil replied, his own voice loud enough to drown the man out. "Comprising hundreds of cargo ships we busted our asses to retrofit, and three state-of-the-art colony vessels that were re-tasked from missions that had been decades in the making. In short... sir... we put ourselves out quite a bit in the name of offering your sorry carcass a way off that rock. Which, pretty soon now, is gonna be a boiling hell hole!"

"Rescue? From what? We need no rescue!" If anything, the already-overwrought voice was shrieking more loudly now.

"The radiation levels say otherwise," Vigil said. "And they're going to speak a lot louder pretty soon."

"Unimorphist lies!" the voice screeched, before launching into a screed filled with non sequiturs and guttural exclamations that Vigil could only assume were profanity.

Vigil looked at each of the officers in the Olympia's command and control center, his expression bewildered.

Ramirez caught the captain's eye and raised a finger to indicate that he needed the captain to wait a moment. Then he said, "I'm getting a lot of chatter on civilian bands about the planetary leader – he's called the Primus – sending out messages on some sort of official social media feed. The Primus claims that he's battling..." Ramirez coughed, but his grin suggested he was trying not to laugh. "Battling 'demons from beyond' in a 'holy war of righteousness' against the... the 'forces of darkness' that the 'unimorphists' have somehow summoned. Oh, uh... there's more now... summoned from 'the recesses of outer oblivion, the province of the damned.' Sir."

Vigil rolled his eyes, his irritation growing by the moment.

The voice had fallen silent for a few moments but now was back to screaming. Vigil signaled Ramirez to cut off the noise.

"What the fuck is a 'unimorphist?' " Vigil demanded of his comms officer, so angry that he forgot decorum.

"From what I can tell, sir..." Ramirez scanned his screens, cross-checking flow charts of computer-compiled information. "It was a rival system of government that the... the Primus and his armies defeated at some point in the past. It seems..." Ramirez cocked his head and squinted, concentrating. "It seems that those who adhere to that political philosophy are regarded as a criminal class. Or maybe people considered criminals are simply labeled 'unimorphists.' It's not clear."

Santos sighed, and Vigil looked at him.

"Same old story," Santos said.

Vigil's expression remained quizzical.

"Well, Captain, don't you see? These 'unimorphists' are just these people's version of 'socialists.' This planet is right where Earth was in 2038, right before the first Great Collapse. This guy, this Primarch, is spouting fear and fantasies, and evidently..." Santos nodded toward the image of the planet on the viewscreen. "...he has nothing more than that to offer his people."

Vigil nodded. "The same easy pattern. Invent a problem, generate fear, offer a solution. Claim leadership and status without doing anything substantive to earn it. All of which is great," he muttered, "until a plague, or a calamity, or a few supernovae come along and prove how hollow and incompetent the great leader really is."

"Autocracy never changes," Santos said.

"Captain?" Ramirez spoke up. "I have another incoming transmission."

"From the palace again?" Vigil asked.

"No sir, I don't think so," Ramirez said. "This signal is like the ones we got before – it's instantaneous comm, and it's coming through the satellite array. I can see that the array is getting a standard radio transmission beamed from... " Ramirez frowned at his readings. "I think it's from the Southern hemisphere," he said.

"The city on that continent?"

"Looks like some sort of small settlement on one of the island chains. Place is getting hammered right now by a hurricane," Ramirez said.

Vigil frowned at Santos, who shrugged. "If it's Forbin, we've already talked to him," Santos said. "We might get an explanation from him, at least."

"Put him through," Vigil said.

A moment later a new voice came over the speakers. "Is this the ship from Earth?"

"We're from the Commonality," Vigil said. "Earth is.... Well, we're from Proxima."

"Earth is what? No longer habitable?" the voice asked.

Vigil glanced at Santos again. "Yes, sir, that's right. Am I addressing Mr. Forbin?"

"Dr. Forbin," the voice corrected. "Yes, that's me."

"Well, Dr. Forbin, it seems you aren't actually an official. We just spoke to someone called the Primus..."

"Yes, well," Forbin's voice said, the transmission wavering slightly. "As it happens, I am the duly elected President of Ardani."

"Is that... a nation?"

"That's the name of our planet, Captain," Forbin said. "At least, that's what we call it."

"I see. Then who is this Primus?"

"He's the one who lost the election eight years ago, and reacted by declaring that the results had been rigged. His supporters in the military and the garda imposed martial law and arrested me on his orders. He's arrested a lot of people, actually. Executed a lot of people, too..." The voice grew distorted, faded out, then returned: "In short, he took over. And the planet has never been the same."

"Are you in prison?" Santos asked.

"Of a sort. We're confined to a section of a small city..." Forbin's voice was washed out in swell of static.

"Instantaneous comms are more vulnerable to interference from ambient radiation," Ramirez apologized.

"Even though we're in orbit with the satellites?"

"The satellite array is the problem, sir," Ramirez said. "We could be here or orbiting Proxima, we'd be hearing the same interference."

"Are you there?" Forbin's voice was crystal clear now.

"Yes, doctor. I apologize, but the ambient radiation is rising. It's interfering with your transmission," Vigil said.

"I'm not surprised," Forbin said. "We hacked into the satellite array years ago, and it was immediately obvious that increasing radiation is a problem up there. It's causing problems down here, as well, and the problems are only getting worse. We managed to build a couple quantum processors from scavenged parts, and once we analyzed the data from the transluminal telescopes in high orbit..."

More static obscured the transmission for several seconds, then subsided.

Forbin's voice became audible once more: "...like talking to a brick wall. A paranoid brick wall. When the planet's scientific community started speaking out, they were accused of spreading fear and lies to undermine the Primus. Researchers, academics, religious leaders, anyone who felt a need to stand up for the facts... we're all isolated here in the ghetto."

"The ghetto?" Santos gasped.

"I suspect they put us here to allow the increasingly severe weather eventually to kill us," Forbin said. "And the current storm is so ferocious, it just might do the job."

"Dr. Forbin," Vigil said, "we're here with a number of ships with the intention of carrying out an evacuation. How many people are on Cyg... I mean, Ardani?"

"We have a population of about seven hundred million," Dr. Forbin said.

Oteri and Chavez groaned simultaneously.

"Captain, there's no way," Chavez said.

"We can transport about 220,000," Otero put in. "And that's pushing it."

"I understand any rescue effort could help only a fraction of the total population." Forbin said, his voice growing distant and wavering again. "But please help us if you can."

"I have a suggestion, Forbin," a faint voice cut in angrily. "Tell them not to take any of those blond-haired sons of a bitch!"

"Excuse me?" Vigil said. "What was that?"

Forbin was chastising whoever had shouted the suggestion. "Don't talk like that, Carmike. We're better than that."

"If I was before, I sure the hell ain't now," Carmike answered back, his tone surly.

"What's this about blond people?" Vigil asked, confused.

"A difference of political opinion," Forbin said. "The Primus and his supporters are giallisti – they believe that those meant to rule are marked out by the goddess Danara with pale skin and blond hair. I represent another point of view... by far the majority, though that hardly matters. We believe that all humans are the same, regardless of complexion or hair color. We argue virtue comes from effort, maybe even talent... but physiologically, even chemically, all people are fundamentally equal. It's just a medical fact."

"Unimorphists," Santos whispered to Vigil.

"Sadly," Forbin sighed, "facts no longer mean much. Not to the Primus and his friends. It's a deadly choice they've made. Our data suggest we're going to experience intense surges in gamma radiation, enough to destroy all life on the planet. No place in the solar system will be safe. The Primus has declared that Ardani is a sacred place, blessed by the gods, and decommissioned the space fleet. All use of the satellite array except for military operations has been outlawed. We knew this when we attempted to transmit our findings to him, and explain the danger, but his only response was to increase the military presence on the island and cut off our water rations. Luckily, the recent storms have provided us with plenty of rainfall..."

Forbin's voice crackled into silence.

"Can you get him back?" Vigil asked Ramirez.

"The transmission ended at the source," Ramirez said.

"It's hard to tell what's happening, exactly, but I'm getting intense thermal readings from the city where that transmission originated," Chavez spoke up. "Captain, I think some sort of missile strikes are happening..."

"Transmission from the surface," Ramirez broke in, his voice tense.

"Forbin?" Vigil asked.

"No sir, the palace again."

Vigil nodded. The shouting voice returned, at full volume. "Heretics!"

"Mr. Primus... your excellency, or however you wish to be addressed..."

The voice interrupted Vigil. "Of course you were in league with the apostates in the ghetto. They brought you here, didn't they? Liars coaxing demons from the dark with their filthy accusations."

"No one's accusing – "

"You will all suffer the ultimate penance!" the voice shrieked.

"Sir, it's looking like Dr. Forbin's city has been completely destroyed," Chavez said from tactical.

Otero nodded. "Big chemical fires are burning down there, in spite of the rain."

"He murdered them," Santos whispered, a stricken look on his face.

Vigil's own expression had turned hard with fury. "Those people you just slaughtered were trying to do their planet a service," he said, his voice forceful enough to silence the Primus. "They were trying to do you a service, and you imprisoned them for it, and then you killed them."

"They were liars," the Primus said. "Attempting to depose me with a coup of falsehoods – including this supernovae hoax they've made you part of."

"Says the man whose filthy reign has been built on nothing but lies!" Vigil shouted.

"You know nothing of our planet's history!" the Primus shot back.

"I know all about your history! It's the history of half the colony worlds that we've encountered. Wherever human beings go, the same story plays out. Time after time, civilizations of great promise are brought low by the greedy and the ruthless. Human potential betrayed, future generations aborted before they could even be conceived, and always with a fairytale god hovering over the madness, supposedly smiling in benediction."

"God is not a fiction," the Primus said haughtily. "I am god here! And you – you are demons from outer darkness!"

Vigil was too angry to formulate a reply.

"You will not deceive us," the Primus said.

"No," Santos said. "We won't. We haven't. But if you don't allow us to help you, you will die – all of you. All of your people. If you care about your followers –"

"My followers will be loyal to me all the way into eternity," the Primus said.

"Good for you," Vigil muttered. "You're going to get there pretty soon."

"But you, even you foot soldiers of evil... you can redeem yourselves," the Primus said, his voice now crafty. "Repent! Embrace truth and light! Bring me up – me and my courtiers. Bring me up with those loyal to me, bring me to your fleet of ships, and take me to the very heart of your unholy inferno out in the great darkness. Accept the sacred wisdom of my rule, and together we will cool the inferno itself into a verdant paradise of unsurpassed blessings."

"Sir," Ramirez said, "he's transmitting text..." Ramirez scanned his readouts. "It's a list of names, sir, contained in a document titled 'The Roll of the Righteous.' "

"Which he just so happens to have on hand," Vigil muttered.

"Along with a few other, less illustrious lists, I'm sure," Santos replied.

Vigil and Santos looked at each other with mirroring expressions of disgust and exasperation.

"The list totals four hundred and twenty names," Ramirez said.

"We came prepared to rescue so few as it was," Santos whispered, his voice choked, "and he's willing to permit us to save only... only a few hundred?"

"Do you have my list?" the Primus asked. "These are the chosen. These are the ones who have earned my grace and mercy. They will bring grace and mercy to you, through me."

Vigil and Santos stared at each other as if in telepathic communion. Then they nodded at each other in mutual agreement.

"I don't think so," the captain said.

"You have been commanded!" The Primus' voice was shocked and disbelieving.

Vigil shook his head. "We came here in response to an urgent call for help. We came prepared and willing to honor that plea. But we cannot and will not submit to your delusional claims over us."

"In other words," Santos spoke up, "by murdering the people who summoned us, you have canceled our mission here. At this point, legally, we are trespassing. And you, in your demands, are expressing an intention to trespass against us. Our sole course of action at this point is to withdraw our fleet and leave you to your own devices."

"To your fate, is what my colleague is too diplomatic to come out and say," Vigil interjected.

There was silence from the Primus. Then: "You refuse to be commanded?"

"We do."

"Then you shall die! The hammer of our wrath shall smite your ships!"

"Sir, with all due respect, shut it!" Vigil snapped. "Close channel," he ordered Ramirez.

Ramirez nodded.

Vigil turned to Chalmers at the helm. "Take us out of here, best speed. Plot a course back home, and share all relevant navigational data with the evacuation fleet."

"Yes, sir."

"Ramirez," the captain added, turning to the comms officer, "Relay this order to all ships: We're leaving. Right now."

"Yes sir," Ramirez said. Then: "Sir? The Primus is trying to contact us."

"If he backs down and asks us for help, then legally we'll be obliged," Santos said.

"He can burn in hell," Vigil said. "Literally." The captain looked at the viewscreen and the space that lay around the ship – space growing hot with invisible, deadly gamma rays.

"But his people?"

"Right, his people. The names on the list... the courtiers and sycophants. The only people he's consented to allow us to help are him and his partners in crime. No, Santos, I don't think so."

"But how many down there are blameless? People too powerless, ill-informed, or weak-willed that they really had no choice?"

"He's murdered the ones who deserved our help," Vigil said, shaking his head. "As for the others, they either chose to follow him, or chose to stand by and do nothing. But we still come back to the problem of authorization – and he's only agreed to permit us to take him and his accessories. Even if we can scrape up some legal justification for ignoring the list of names he sent up and mounting a more general rescue, I'm not interested in expending resources and risking the lives of our own brave people to try and save a few thousand of them. Not with the second radiation front about to hit in full force. You saw the mission brief: We were expecting to suffer casualties among our own people, working to effect the rescue operation while radiation levels surge. But I'm not sacrificing one single member of our task force to help these people – and certainly not the sociopathic monster they've allowed to take charge."

"It's obvious we can't just interject ourselves into the situation and try to sort refugees from... well, the Primus and his coterie," Santos agreed. "But we also can't just stand back and play executioner by doing nothing."

"I won't reward the horrors that psychotic autocrat has perpetrated and his followers have condoned," Vigil said.

"Is that your choice to make, captain?"

Vigil shook his head. "Maybe not, but then again... I didn't. He chose for them. We're just interlopers here, exactly as the Primus says. Or do you wish to issue a formal challenge to my command decision?"

Santos held the captain's gaze a moment longer, then looked at the deck. "No need," he said. "We're out of options as long as no further requests for aid are received."

"That's what I thought," Vigil said.

"Sir?" Ramirez said from the comms station. "He's still signaling."

"Ignore it," Vigil said. "I've heard enough crazy for one day. And the radiation levels aren't going to subside any time soon. We've been here long enough... Chalmers, have you coordinated with the other ships?"

"Yes sir, everyone reports navigational solutions complete and full readiness to depart."

"Let's do it," Vigil said, settling wearily into the captain's chair. "Let's go home."

Next time we peer through a veil of possibilities to find one Mr. Jake Abernathy preparing for bed when a stranger appears in his home... a stranger who's not there to threaten Jake, but to praise him –�the first and foremost member of a very peculiar "Fan Club."