I was having a nice dream. I can't quite remember the details, but it had something to do with luxury cars, mountain views and biscotti. The ship was silent, peaceful (for once). It was one of those moments that make all the frantic flying, stressful assignments and constant 'debating' in this cramped joke of a boat worthwhile. But now I'm awake, biscottiless and wondering why the left side of the ship is on fire.

Remind me why I'm here again...

The year is currently 7056. Space is no longer a frontier. When the Homeland (speculated true name being Earth. Though no one's really sure anymore. The history books don't call it by name) started to dry up all those years ago, the Litirier Experiment got together four thousand "prime specimens" or all sorts, stuffed them on The Ark, a ship only ever described as 'massive' and nothing else, and carried them out into space. Nobody knows what happened to it after it landed, though it's speculated it was torn apart and used to build civilization back up again. Either way, The Ark found its way to what is now the Archeti System, colonized Ironis and, over a span of four milleniums, expanded out into the the 5 Planetary Empires in existence today.

The Founding Democratic Empire of Archeti still lingers on the edges of modern civilization, though it lived out its peak years directly following said founding and since has ever declined into obseletion. Out of its original twelve resident planets, three suns and sixty two orbiting moons, all but Ironis, now the poverty capital of all 5 Empires, its moons, completely depleted, deformed or destroyed by centuries of resource mining, the smallest of its suns, ever nearing its eventual death, and a pathetically miniscule planet in the farthest reaches of the system known as Bearleq have been seized by other conquering Empires. My home, The Exymeron Republic, responsible for all but two of aforementioned conquerings, is now the center and most prominent of the five. Still abundant with resources, people and possibility, Exymeron has become the ideal location for settlement. Unfortunately, in recent years, abundance has become overabundance and there remains little room for incoming immigrants. Border crossing has become difficult even for traders and even moreso for smugglers, which of course significantly hacks away at our own economical standings. The problem has yet to be addressed by Prime Minister Etthos.

Following along in order of power, Exymeron's contender for complete domination is currently The Holy Soialist Catharsis Empire, a collection of ninety two planets, scattered across the span of our space. As their name implies, they withold a high standard of, let's call it, morality for not only themselves but their neighbors. They have been involved in a war with the other semi-dominant power, Synecdicha, a rogue empire of hardly half Catharisis' size, located a great distance from the rest of us and known for harboring the exiles of elsewhere. Synecdicha has been urging Exymeron's intervention ever since the conflict began. This problem has also yet to be addressed by Prime Minister Etthos.

The final of the five empires, Ellegi, has been another, but far less violent target of Catharsis in the past. Larger than Synecdicha and witholding greater influence with its ownership of 5 suns, two of which provide energy for Catharsis strongholds, it is been able to diplomatically avoid open war, though verbal and political battles have been occurring consistently since the beginning of the other. Ellegi's only motivation for such a conflict, however, unthreatening in ideological factors, would be ownership of those five powerful stars. Imperialism however, has been frowned upon by the Allegiance Council between the five Empires and thus, were Catharsis to attack under such circumstances, Exymeron, Synecdicha, even Archeti would join Ellegi in expelling Catharis from the union. Such would be disastrous as their entire populus is intermixed amongst what would then be hostile empires and severe loss would be imminent.

Desophyles:Clearly that would be me. Why I must now write an exposition on myself is beyond me, but unfortunately that's not up to me anymore. I was once the most powerful person in Exymeron. I had the five empires dangling at my fingertips. Now look at me. I'm on the most rundown ship imaginable, sailing in the empty space to nowhere in particular under the command of my former best friend, colleague, enemy and practically every other possible relationship between two people short of lover though I won't deny we bicker like them. I'm still not sure I'm real clear on how that happened.

Fiearius: He and I go way back. All the way to when we were miniature. We used to get along. Though those times are long over. He's ridiculously arrogant, self-obsessed, blind, rude, obnoxious, need I go on? I could be nice and also praise him for something, just to even the playing field a bit, but honestly, his shortcomings far outweigh his advantages so I really don't even think they're worth mentioning. Though I will point out that we are, or at least I am, adults and can deal with one another civilly. Okay, yeah, I'm going to make that singular...I.

Cyrus: When we were kids, I didn't like Cyrus much. He seemed like a blatant schoolboy tattle tale. Always snooping in the wrong places and threatening to go tell his mummy about all the slightly to more seriously illegal or havoc-wreaking things his brother and I were up to. I don't think he ever actually did rat us out. But he just seemed like he would so I didn't trust him. Turns out I was wrong about the kid. Or maybe I was right and he's just gotten better over the years, I don't know. He's really alright. Bears very little resemblance to his sibling which makes him all the more likeable. But he's got a lot going for him. Smart, talented, just...well...in the wrong place. But hey, aren't we all?

Hekili: The new kid. She's a doctor I think. So far, there hasn't been much doctoring going on. I suppose she's an okay kid, as kids go, but I can't help but notice that she's a bit stupid. Alright, not stupid, unwise. Naive, definetely, but mostly unwise. It's about time she learned her place in the world. I think she's avoided it for the continuity of her life, but when you're on this ship, it's a sign that it's time to face it. I've got nothing against her. And I've certainly got nothing against standing up for oneself_ But there's a right time and place for everything and there's always a limit to how far it should go.

The Cacophonic Society: Here's a bittersweet story for you. The Society is the almighty ruler of society as a whole. It reigns over pretty much everything anyone says, thinks, does and wants to do. My brother was my first connection to it. He joined when he was fifteen. And when I was fifteen, he ushered me into it as well. It was all well and good for some time. The work, despite its somewhat questionable nature, was relatively easy and the benefits were quite reapable. They made me who I am. Or who I was. And who I was was the man who practically controlled the universe. And believe me, that's hardly an exaggeration. But then they backstabbed me. So I backstabbed them back. And now I'm as much of a fugitive as the blokes I used to kill for them.

Dionysian: Fiearius' ship. I don't know who taught him the difference between good ships and bad ships, but either the lesson didn't sink in or, which is the more likely option, he chose to completely ignore it and made the decision at random. No, that's too cruel. He doensn't do things randomly, he plays miniature games of eeny meeny miney mo. By the looks of this ship, the game fails him.

The introduction to my life...well we all know what that is. And not only was I not there, but I really prefer not to reflect on it as the images it conjures are not pleasant. So I'm going to skip that part and get right on into it then, shall I? I think we've already established that I lived in Exymeron. Specifically on Satieri. Specifically in the city of Paradiex. Specifically on the lower east side. Where the rats eat better than the rest of us and if you park on the street, you'll probably see your car driving by the following morning with your neighbor in the driver's seat. One might assume the worst of the place, but in all honesty, when you live in a place like that, you learn to handle it. It's an amazing thing, adaptation. Don't underestimate it. I had parents, as one does, who owned and ran the market under our apartment and made their living off selling cigarettes and booze. And I had a brother. Ezrin. He was, for a time, especially those first years, my role model. Turned out he was a common thug. So I probably could have used a better role model. But what ever. Anyway, I started off at the local primary school as one does. But then one of the fourth graders participated in Career Day and showed us all that one day he wanted to be an arsonist. Little brat...So I transferred to an alternative slightly less downtown where the street cleaners still bothered to drive. There, I came in contact with the bloke who I unfortunately ended up spending the rest of my life with.

Seriously, no matter what I do, I can't get away from the guy.

What is up with that?

His name was Fiearius. And when I met him, he wasn't anything like who he is now. He seemed like he should have been one of the nerds. But he wasn't nearly smart enough. So instead, he was just an outcast. And he was actually, believe it or not, quiet. He seemed to follow the philosophy that if he was not noticed, he would not be forced to interact with everyone around him. I'm not sure whether that disinclination for other people was out of hate or low self-esteem, but regardless of future endeavors, I'm glad he changed his mind when I showed up. New kids are always a little detached from the rest of the student body, but when the quaint middle class lot was suddenly exposed to the kid from the bad neighborhood with the elder brother who would beat them up if anyone hassled him, they were even more so inclined to stay away. Except for Fiearius. Who really had nothing to lose anyway and was quite frankly fascinated by the world I stepped out of. He wanted to know everything. About me, about my brother, about my family, about my home. And suddenly the quiet weird kid with the lisp was the loud questioning kid with the lisp. So I told him. And eventually, I showed him. And I think that one little field trip to Clancey Street was what made the both of us inseparable from that day on.

We decided mutually to follow not in the footsteps of the successful, content and droll businessmen, lawyers and teachers we were told to admire, but instead those of the men who, to us, were successful, happy and who led lives packed with excitement. This, of course, means that most of our childhood activities were not quite within the bounds of legality. It was rarely problematic. We'd get our eyes set on something, build up the justification of need within our heads and then venture out to take it no matter what the cost completely under the impression that what we were doing was not just not wrong, but reasonable, sensible and inevitably correct. As frightening as it may sound to those on the other side, it's not a difficult mindset to slip into. Out of our beyond numerous expeditions, only two failed in producing the desired effects (one was when we learned that Old Mr. Koncite who owned the convenience store on Setton had a rifle and wasn't afraid to use it. The other was just because Fiearius is a clutz and dropped it during the escape...idiot...) and we only got caught once. And that was when we first witnessed the power of my brother. We were just engaged in a simple lift and run for our lunch. Naturally, we'd ditched school the moment Fiear's parents dropped him off and were rather enjoying our 3rd consecutive day away from the prison of education. However, still bound to their routine, at approximately 12:30 we became hungry and decided to procure some nourishment at one of the higher end restaurants for once. The fact that our poorly refined taste buds would be revolted by the bizarre filth the rich seem to enjoy didn't dawn on us. Anyway, it was poorly executed and, to put it shortly, two ratty kids lingering in the corner of a room filled with tall hats, bow ties and suit jackets aren't really inconspicuous. I'm not exactly sure of what happened, but when the manager called the police, it was not them, but Erzin who showed up. All he did was stalk in, his head held high, shoot a serious stare at the waiter charged with watching over us and suddenly we were free men once more.

The scene perplexed us incessantly and excited us even more. Suddenly Erzin was more than just a big brother who could beat up kids for me. He was a big brother who could get me out of anything. And word spread fast just from that one event that Fiear and I were specifically under his protection and from that day forth, no one even bothered to stop us as we took what ever we pleased at that sporadic moment in time. It made things easier, but a little less interesting I'm afraid and we gradually grew bored of our usual haunts and began to long for something more. It wasn't too long before we got it.

There was an 'accident' down at the harbor. I don't know what happened. And I'm convinced that no one actually does. Either way, a lot of lives were lost. And they needed to be replaced. The Cacophonic Society was the definition of political machine. Votes in return for life. Power in return for peace. They weren't the law, officially, but they very well could have been and they certainly functioned as if they were. They had a very clean cut system. You vote their guy into office, they protect you, take care of you, get you a job, get you a house. If you didn't, you're on the street. But if you did, and if you needed something, they'd serve it up to you on a silver platter...for a price of course. And it was when you didn't pay that price that you were in trouble. There were people, members, employees of the Society whose job it was to deliver that trouble in a nice little package with a sharpened bow on top. And those were the kind of people the 'accident' brought them into a shortage of.

Erzin wasn't one of those people. He was just the threat of those people. But I guess when he saw me and my little companion burning down the street in a fire of our rebellion, he saw our potential to become those people and, in return for a promotion and some extra cash, he turned us over to the Society for our eternal initiation.

We worked as a team, me and Fiear. We were good at first. We were the best at last. It took years, but by the time we were 20, we practically ran our department. We were the most powerful people in Paradiex, meaning we were the most powerful people on Satieri, in Exymeron, and the Five Empires. No one in their right mind would dare cross us and I'll admit, it felt good. Of course it didn't sit so well that all that power had to be shared between the two of us. Despite our childhood bond and clear working connection, Fiearius and I weren't antithetical to the saying that you can't play where you work. We worked together, we hung out together and then we went home to the same Society-funded apartment. Every waking moment was spent with one another and, as one does, we began to grow weary of each other. The friendship began to slip away and it became a spiteful, bitter acquaintanceship outside of our dutiful deeds. What's worse, we failed to address the matter and so the wound merely festered unattended until it became the end of us. That's not to say that it wasn't provoked because I'm positive, if it hadn't been for that stupid girl, it wouldn't have fallen apart so messily. But I won't place all the blame upon her shoulders. We would have crumbled even without the extra weight she added onto our list of qualms.

Fiearius always had a bit of a problem. He became addicted to things easily. It's not uncommon, addictive personalities, it's just a state of mind. For him, it got in the way almost constantly because they were, for addictions, unnaturally destructive. When we were kids, he became obsessed with petty thievery. When we were preteens, it was arson. When we first got our guns, he became addicted to firing it. Not particularly at anyone. Just firing it in general. I lost a lot of hearing cells from that time period. Then it was gambling. That one was extremely problematic for both of us so I was forced to knock some sense into him...so to speak. Drinking, for a time. Girls, for a bit longer. One that I actually never found much of a problem with and I'm pretty sure still permeates through to today is Sudoku. He can spend hours just sitting there staring at those little number puzzles. It's weird. Personally, I supremely prefer solitaire. But anyway, he became addicted to this girl. Aella was her name. She was a powerful little princess of sorts. High up in The Ears. Rumored to have connections to the Council. She was nice I suppose, as girls go and I could stand her without issue. But it was Fiearius' mad insistence to suddenly spend every moment with her possible that got to me. Either she was around our place all the time, obstructing my own daily routine or he had disappeared to hers when we had work to do, thus even further obstructing my daily routine. It was annoying and irresponsible and I told him so. Of course, being the drama queen he is, he threw a fit, told me I was just jealous and refused to talk to me for a week. It was, quite simply, pathetic. But I let it go. Because I'm just that nice. Until it got in the way of my future. And then I broke.

It was just one of those jobs. The ones that seem so simple and yet at every single turn there's some massive hurdle over which one must leap before success even becomes an option. The one with the pitbulls was a job like that. Oh and the one at the city center during the 'Save Our Planet' parade. That was just plain ridiculous. This one was a little different. Instead of some external obstacle shoving itself directly in our faces and completely preventing us from making things so much easier for ourselves, it was an internal issue that placed a nice little wedge right in between our job and my sanity.

It was some clandestine meeting between a group of Society rebels planning to overthrow the Cacophonic approved prime minister and take over the actual government themselves. Allow me to gloat and mock how dumb of a plan this is as clearly taking over the law ignores the fact that the law is not at all in charge. Naturally, though, this was a problem. So Fiearius and I, being the most adept at duties such as these, were sent down to their cliche secret warehouse to eliminate the threat. Honestly, I suspected nothing odd about the evening. It was clear cut. I'd go in, I'd shoot some people, and then I'd be home in time to settle down, make myself a microwave burrito and watch what ever uninformed crime scene show happened to be playing on any of our 2396 broadcast channels at the time. Of course, as you can tell through my mastery of foreshadowing, that's not quite how things went down. Though I wasn't actually informed of that until way too late in the event. You see, when we arrived, my partner and I, as was our protocol, split up. It was our personal failsafe that we had concocted on our very first mission and had continued until that day. So what actually happened from the moment I turned my back on him to sneak up the stairs to the time when I burst in through the balcony and promptly shot everyone in sight, I'm not really sure, but I do certainly know that as I hopped down to the lower floor to inquire the situation, he wasn't very happy. Oh and his girlfriend was dead. Yeah, alright it was my fault. I know. Believe me, I've received my fair share of grief for it. At that moment specifically. There was a few climactic moments of gun pointing and yelling and I really don't remember, nor care any longer sicne I'm not really too proud of this moment, so let's just cut to the chase and say he got away unscathed, I ratted him out to the council as a traitor and by the time they gave me the orders to go off and eliminate him once and for all, which I went about without doubt nor question, he'd already flown off the planet in a tin can with his genius little engineer brother.

The Council wasn't too pleased about that. And because of it, they weren't too pleased with me either even though, quite clearly, it wasn't my fault at all (of course, they didn't know that I had let him get away the first time...Mostly because they would have killed me point blank if they did. And that's not useful). However, this was also inconvenient seeing as, due to my shooting him in the head, they needed a new Voice and, naturally, I was first in line for the job, but if I didn't succeed in tracking down my ex-best friend and swiftly stealing what ever humanity he had left (for at this point in time, I honestly thought the absolute lowest of his betrayal), they'd waste no time in giving it to some other less than deserving fool. So no one was surprised, disappointed or displeased when I procured a ship of my own from the Society Hangar, packed up everything I owned and sailed off that godforsaken planet.

Days went by, months went by, and all the while I had yet to pick up Fiear's track. That's the problem with traitors. They know your tactics too well so that they know how to counter them when they have to. It didn't help that he'd always been suspiciously good at getting away unnoticed plus that little brother of his was loaded so even if they didn't go by unheeded, they could easily make it so that they were. The Council was losing patience and I didn't blame them. Without a Voice they couldn't effectively communicate with their inferiors. Without orders, their inferiors couldn't act. Without their actions, there was chaos. In a sense, they were losing control over Satieri and it was up to me to finish my mission and then seize it once more. Unfortunately, despite his common stupidity, carelessness and clumsiness in most matters, when it comes to his job and his life (which were more intertwined than any of us care to think), he was flawless and even a perfect tracker can't catch a perfect prey. He couldn't, however, get away from me entirely. I was always a step behind, but I remained equidistant away from him and so we perpetually existed in a sort of stalemate that, as I'm sure the origin of the word suggests, quickly got stale.

Apparently I wasn't the only one who got tired of it. Fiearius himself seemed to grow weary of running and so, one fateful day, much to the protest of his co-pilot, they did not, as was usual, sail forward at the first sign of my coming, but instead, sailed back to where my larger, much more sophisticated and much better armed ship was looming and, with the aptitude of a technological ignorant, literally climbed aboard in the middle of outer space. I still don't know how he managed that without suffocating...Either way, he caught me by surprise. I could clearly see his dump of a ship floating conspicuously out the window, but it made no attempt to fire, defend or communicate and, in fact, no one responded to the radio calls I made to it. I wasn't about to waste my artillery on an empty ship even if there was a chance Fiearius was in it and so I was inclined to just sit and wait for him to make a move. I didn't expect that move to put him directly behind me with a gun to my head.

Stop following me," he snapped shortly with the same inflection he'd used while telling me to stop shoving him back when we were kids.

Why should I?" I replied simply, 65% positive he didn't have the guts to actually shoot me.

Because it's annoying, for one," he said, "and it useless because you're never gonna kill me.

What makes you so sure of that?" I grinned. As flawless as he was at his job, there were two aspects to it. One was running away. He had mastered that to the extreme. The other was finishing it all off. And it was in that segment that my perfection was just slightly tipped to the upper balance. But it was enough.

There was a loud buzzing behind him as the interior security lasers, made aware of his presence at the push of a button by my foot, heated up. I wasn't going to let some stupid heat seeking laser do my job of course, that's just pathetic, but the noise distracted him just long enough to turn the tables as his arm dropped and mine, recently reunited with a beautiful silver pistol he'd, ironically, given me as a birthday present years previous, raised.

Seriously, Fiearius," I taunted, finding myself strangely amused by the look of panic in his eyes. I'm not heartless, really. I just hated the little pratt. "Why do you still doubt me? Even after I've followed you this far. Even after all I've gone through, all I've had to deal with, all I've had to pay to get to this very point. Just to kill you. You still don't think I'm going to do it?

He hesitated, staring me straight in the eye as though trying to find some hint of a bluff. I guess he thought he found one. Or maybe he saw nothing and just had to have faith that it was. Either way, he said it. "No." Again, there was a pause, the natural pause in a conversation, leading up to my eventual response, but something in him didn't want it to come so he interrupted it. "Because somewhere," he added hurriedly, "Somewhere in you, you know that what you're doing is wrong. You know that the Council is exploiting you to get what they want. You know they're just using you.

So?" I asked incredulously, raising a skeptical brow. "I'm getting paid a fortune for it. I'm rich, I'm respected, I've got a great apartment with a great view and heck, they gave me this ship. If that's exploitation, then I'm surprised more people aren't willing to be.

He frowned and rolled his eyes as though I was perhaps the stupidest person he'd ever come across. "Oh come on, you have to know what they're planning. You can't seriously be for that are you?

And that was when he told me about The Plan. The Plan the Council had to sell out all of Exymeron into complete and total destructive warfare for a lousy sun owned by Catharsis. Some top secret deal between the Council and the Cathartic Prime Minister that had been in the works for years and was about to become a reality. The Council would get control of the unnecessary star and Exymeron would enter war with Catharsis against Synecdicha. This was, quite possibly, the dumbest thing I'd ever heard in my entire life.

That's ridiculous," I said bluntly, staring at him with a distinct disinterest.

Of course it is," he replied vehemently. "But it's true and that is why I left because I want no part of it.

No, you left because I was gonna kill you," I told him.

Well that too..." he admitted reluctantly. "But mostly because I don't want to be in the front lines of someone else's unjustified war.

A long, awkward silence passed between us until finally I decided I'd had enough of this. "I can't believe you think I'm dumb enough to believe that ludicrous trash," I said, cocking the pistol. "If you'd just killed her like you were supposed to, we wouldn't be in this mess." I gestured to the gun still held weakly in his hand. "Drop it.

You didn't know her like I did..." he growled under his breath and reluctantly did what he was told. As it hit the ground, it clicked open.

I laughed. "Not even loaded? Seriously Fiearius. Look what's become of you. It's pathetic.

At least I've still got some principles," he replied coldly, shaking his head. "I always liked to think you did somewhere deep in you too. But if you really don't believe me, or you really don't care, then just go ahead and kill me right here and now and end this." As only the foolishly brave do, he stood up straight, trying to look as noble as a thief/assassin/traitor possibly can and glared with all his might at the gleaming pistol in my hand.

I watched this charade, trying my best not to break into a fit of laughter at him. It was then that I realized that he'd seen far too many action films. With a disgruntled 'hmph', I shrugged, muttered, "Alright," and shot him.

You may be thinking 'oh I bet he missed on purpose'. Well. I didn't. I was aiming for his head and if he actually had as much faith in me as he claimed and hadn't ducked at the last minute, I would have hit it. But unfortunately, all I got was his shoulder.

You shot me!" he yelled, completely astounded by this fact for some reason.

Of course I did. You told me to," I replied and tried again, this time missing entirely.

Well I didn't mean it you jerk!" he snapped, clutching his bleeding arm and trying to get out of the way.

Oh come on, just stand still," I pleaded absently, shooting off a few more rounds and still failing to hit the mark.

Most people would freak out and run if someone was shooting at them. Fiearius is not most people. When his life is in danger, he suddenly gets this strange wave of fury that can't be contained and is extremely likely to expose itself as a confused, frantic monologue. "Okay, you know what? Forget it! I wanted to help you! But now? Oh no, you're not getting my help. Ever again," he rambled furiously, shaking his fists at me.

At least it got him to stand still. I was about to potentially finish it off when a wave came in over the radio in the voice of his brother. "Fiearius, what are you doing?! what is wrong with you?! Get back here, now!

Don't you tell me what to do. It's my ship! Get your filthy little hands off her controls!" he snapped back, seeming just a little bit insane.

I'm not really sure what occurred after that. There was a lot more yelling. I figured it was a family issue. And I didn't have any intention of getting involved. Then he was gone. Ship teleporter I assume. The radio connection was still up and I could hear two frantic voices screaming at one another incomprehensibly on the other side. This wasn't really how I wanted to do things, but I guess it was better than nothing so I sat down at the cockpit, pressed a few buttons and watched as a massive missile excelled out from above me and blew their mistake of a spaceship into a million billion little pieces as the radio choked and fuzzed out.

And that was that. I know, sort of anticlimactic isn't it? I was a little disappointed. Sure, I hated him and I had a complete profound belief that he deserved nothing more than death, but for those six months I'd been chasing him, I'd pictured it in my head over and over and considered it over and over until I was absolutely sure of how it should be done. I mean, killing your best friend of fifteen years, despite what I may make it seem, is not that easy even if you don't like him any more. There's still a certain respect, a certain understanding that can't be shaken between two people even in the utmost hatred. Fiearius was a traitor and he deserved to die. But for all of his guilt, he was still an okay guy. He was a lot of fun usually. A lot of trouble often. But I liked him. We had a lot of good times together and he was, with no doubt, the best at what he did. You can't just kill someone like that in cold blood. It's not right, no matter how terrible what they've done is. And so I had made it a fact in my head that I would be the one to deliver the final shot. It was the least I could do after all. If you're going to be killed anyway, at least be killed at the hand of the best (we were both the best after all. Don't get confused). And so, as I watched the few remnants of the Dionysian, as most had been utterly disintegrated, float, charred and fraying, absently in their little clump of space, I couldn't help but feel a bit sad and utter up a quiet 'I'm sorry' to anyone who may or may not have been listening.

I returned to Satieri within the week and presented one of the said remnants of the Dionysian to the Council as proof of my success. They made me their new Voice instantly and in a month, everything had returned to normal. The Society retook control, the riots settled down and I adapted to my new duties quite nicely. I was no longer required to do any of the dirty work my partner and I had done before, which, surprisingly, was a relief. Instead, I enjoyed all the benefits of my previous job while only being responsible for making sure everyone knew what they were supposed to be doing. As easy and lacking in excitement as it was, I enjoyed it and I've got to say, it was the most peaceful two years of my life. For once there was no struggle, no battle to fight, no one around to argue with nor to distract me from my own goals, wishes and agendas. I was completely free to do what ever I wanted, whenever I wanted, however I wanted and I was, for real this time, the most powerful man in all of Exymeron.

And I was bored out of my mind...

It was late November, 7053 when I approached the Council for a solution. I told them quite simply that, although I greatly appreciated my position and would continue its duties responsibly and promptly, I missed the interaction and interest of my old life for, after all, the system was hierarchal. I only ever talked to five people. I asked whether, in addition to my usual tasks, they had any other assignments that I could fulfill to quench the discord within me. To my surprise, they did. They wanted me to deliver a small package for them. All the way in Catharsis. I was to take it over immediately, but hide it and my purpose there, make myself known among the hierarchy until I present the package to the Prime Minister at 9 am on the 31st of December, no sooner nor later. It was a strange request, but I was in no position nor mindset to question it. And so, once again, I packed up my possessions, clambered aboard my ship and set off. Already, I felt better, back in the empty vastness of space. I wanted to sail about as I used to, aimlessly, but I hastened forward across the Cathartic border and landed without hesitation on their capital planet. I was astonished to be greeted at the docking bay by the Prime Minister himself. That, alone, should have caused suspicion enough to turn back, the package with me, but alas, suddenly bombarded with Cathartic exotic foods, drinks and women, I wasn't in my right mind. And so I mingled for a whole month with all of the nobility, royalty, wealthy, what ever they all were and, wherever I went, people seemed to adore me without ever having met me. Even that didn't tip me off. I was so blinded by their hospitality, by the time I realized what was going on and, more importantly, what my small burden contained, it was too late.

The morning of December the 31st came at last and, with utmost importance I retrieved my hidden package and marched dutifully through the halls of the central palace. There were many people about. A strange many. And they all cheered as I went by, clutching the box between now shaking hands. I knew there was something wrong here. Catharsis and Exymeron had never liked each other. Ever. And now, suddenly, here I am, in Catharsis, and I'm treated like their savior. And yet still, I did not understand. Right about now, I could almost kick myself for my ignorance. But at the time, all I did, was stalk casually into the crowded throne room, filled with every noble figure of power I'd met here, grinning ecstatically at me as I approached the Prime Minister, seated proudly on his chair, bowed as low as I thought was proper and placed the package in his outstretched hands. A look of frightening joy lit his eyes as he, in the most natural manner he could manage, tore open the box and almost glowed at the sight of what lay inside. The fear I had felt in the halls was magnified to the point where I wanted to run, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the vision of complete insanity before me as the Prime Minister stared down at me and said, "You, my dear child, shall be honored as a hero of Catharsis from this day forth. For he," his voice raised so that all in the hall could hear, "has brought us our victory!" I watched in horror as he reached his long, bony hand into the box and lifted up the crooked, bright red ornate dagger inside for all to see. It was the symbol of an Exymeron war. I'd never seen it before. No one had. But we all knew what it meant. And I think I was the only one in that massive room who did not break into a fit of rapture when I saw it. All I could do was stare. And all I could think was "Oh god...he was right...

They were all too busy in their rejoicing to notice me as I ran out and away as fast as my legs could possibly carry me. In the streets, the people were going mad with celebration. I pushed my way past them without a thought, straight through the city, up to the dock, right into my ship and, as soon as was physically possible, off the planet, within 48 hours, out of Catharsis entirely. My first instinct was to go back to Exymeron, but at that moment, the only place I wanted to be was as far away from either empire as one could get. As soon as the Council found out I'd fled, they'd kill me anyway. I thought of Archeti. Out of the way, no one would think to look there. But I could never survive there. Ellegi would take me, but I'd have to sail straight through Exymeron to get there. Which left Synecdicha. The very place I'd just committed to destruction. It would never survive the combined forces of Exymeron and Catharsis. And when it fell apart, it would be my fault. How could I show my face there? But at the very least, I could try to help it.

With a newfound purpose and a new destination, I sailed off into the farthest reaches of space to join the outlaws.

I spent a couple months hopping from planet to planet, trying to find something or someone that would give me the direction I needed. I felt useless, lost, in this unfamiliar and unwelcoming place. And I began to feel paranoid that everywhere I went, the Society was on my tail. So I just kept sailing until I ran out of fuel entirely and found myself grounded on a sad little planet on the very edge of all civilization.

It was there that I first found something of interest.

Lingering one night in a local tavern, I ended up in deep conversation with a very delusional old man who didn't seem to have a name, but who had seen more sights in his life than any ten members of the Society put together. We spoke of many things. Presents, futures, pasts. Home. I was discussing this last topic and telling him of a particular rifle back on Satieri that I really wish I had with me when he mentioned it.

You know, there's a young man who comes through these parts every so often," he croaked. "Smuggler of sorts. Always sailing back and forth and all over the place fetching things for people. You could always ask him to stop by...uh...what was that place again?

Satieri," I replied absently, taking another swig of my drink.

Oh," he said and fell silent for a moment. "Oh no. No no. He doesn't do Satieri. Always says so. Every time. Never mind.

I don't think he was being serious. And I don't think he expected me to take the suggestion seriously. But either something in the account sparked my interest or I was just intoxicated and so I asked. "Where can I find this guy?

Two weeks later, sure enough, as the man said, a ship landed at the small, rundown dock and I was there to meet it. I can't express my shock when I saw it. The Dionysian. The ship I'd destroyed. Sitting carelessly before me. And then. Walking down the ramp as though nothing was at all unusual. Fiearius. The man I'd killed.

He froze instantly when he saw me standing at the bottom, eyes as wide as mine. Finally, he regained his sense and pulled his gun on me. I took a step back, instinctively reaching for my own despite its absence. "Don't you dare!" he snapped, cocking his and looking as threatening as he could before adding, as though it mattered, "It's loaded this time.

I raised my hands in submission and tried vainly to reason with him. It's not an easy thing when he's angry. "I'm unarmed," I assured him. "And even if I wasn't...I..." It seemed kind of dumb to say what I was thinking. I'm not trying to kill you anymore and I ran away from the Society. It's not something you really can put in one short sentence.

Thankfully, he did it for me. "Finally figured it out, huh?" he asked, raising a brow and shaking his head. "What did I tell you? And you said it was ludicrous trash. Pfft." I was kind of surprised when he put the gun back in its holster. "So you're sane now, I take it?

Hardly," I replied with a shrug. "But I'm aware if that's what you mean.

Right..." he muttered and finished his descent. "But don't think that makes us friends again. You killed me after all." I stared skeptically. "Well sort of. What ever.

Speaking of which...how did you-?" I began.

Is there a bar around here anywhere? I need a drink," he interrupted. I nodded. "Come on then. I'll catch you up on things.

Apparently, Cyrus was making a device. The plan was to confront my ship, let me fire at it and then use the device to slip into hyperspace and out of sight right before it hit and release some debris to fake an explosion so I'd think that I destroyed it and leave them alone. That kid's a genius, I swear. But Fiearius decided he didn't like that plan and, upon arriving before my ship, tied Cyrus up in the cargo hold so he wouldn't get in the way, then, as you already know, royally messed things up. Thankfully, however, upon his return to the Dionysian, they were still able to carry out the original plan which worked nicely. Since then, they'd been, as my old friend had said, smuggling for cash and picking up what ever goods they could on the way to pawn off elsewhere. They weren't, admittedly, that successful, but they were surviving alright and he seemed undoubtedly content. I wasn't that interested in the smuggling business. It seemed a little low. But he had a ship. Which, since I'd sold it to the mechanic down the road so I could eat, I didn't. And if I was going to do anything with the rest of my life, I needed one. But the problem was getting him to let me aboard.

After all. I had killed him.

A few days passed, he and Cyrus went about their business in the town. Despite Fiearius' discontent at it, I hung around the entire time, helping wherever I could in order to prove my worth. He wasn't buying it. On the fourth day, they were scheduled to leave in the evening. Fiearius obviously wasn't going to make me an offer and he spent most of the day mysteriously absent anyway so I decided to hone in on my other option.

Cyrus was smart, he always had been. It was strange to think that the two of them had come from the same parents. Me, I wasn't the brightest in the world, but I could easily carry on an intellectual conversation. The idea was this: this kid had been trapped on a tiny ship for 2 years with his temperamental brother who only ever seemed to yell at him. If I could gain his favor, there was the slightest chance that he'd convince said brother to bring me along. It was worth a shot anyway. So I spent the day chatting of physics and philosophy and by the end of the day, when Fiearius stumbled back onto the bridge, found me there and swiftly ordered me to get off, Cyrus told him, quite simply, "You know, we could use someone like him around here.

He paid him no attention. "No we couldn't.

Oh come on," I begged, desperate now. "You can't just leave me here.

Sure I can," he replied with a sick grin. "Now get off my ship.

Nothing I could have said would change his mind so, defeated, I made my reluctant retreat to the pitiful end of my significant life. Until however, "No! You can't just kick him off! I want to him to come with us.

No you don't. You just feel bad for him because he spent all day manipulating you into thinking he's actually a good person," Fiearius told his brother coldly.

I never ask you for anything! I have been so calm and so understanding and so obedient since the day we began this ridiculous escapade. Well now, it's my turn to decide something and I say he stays," Cyrus countered.

But it's my ship!" Fiearius argued.

Stop saying that! It's not your ship! Yeah, you paid me back for it, but with money that I helped you earn. It's not your ship, it's our ship. Our ship! So I get half the say in things and since I've had no say before in anything, then I'm using it now and he's coming with us.

I know I'd never seen Cyrus get angry before. I got the impression that neither had Fiearius. I don't quite understand why he stood up for me. I guess he was more miserable alone with his brother than even I had imagined. Or maybe he genuinely thought I would be an asset. Either way, I was thankful to him as Fiearius' self assurance crumbled as he muttered something and, ultimately submitted.

And that's how I got to be on the crew of the Dionysian. And, if my interpretation of Cyrus' motivations were correct, then I'm pleased to say that I have indeed proven myself a use, particularly in cleaning up the many messes our beloved captain leaves behind.

The pratt...

Coming soon

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