The man felt pity for the woman. If she was telling the truth, she was obviously upset by this revelation. Perhaps it challenged her beliefs, or perhaps it confirmed them, even after she had long suppressed them out of fear of reprisals by the Ta’Akar. If she was lying, then he simply pitied her for her foolishness.
“Who is to say that God does not speak to people such as you and me?” he told her.
“Thank you,” she sniffled one last time before she quickly exited the booth and ran out of the room.
The man sat in his booth for several minutes after she had left. He had counseled many during his service to the order, and many had claimed to have visions, to have received messages from their Savior. They were almost always simply the tortured souls of ordinary people that were seeking some sort of forgiveness, some sort of redemption, at least in their own minds. He had never begrudged any of them that which they sought. But none of those that had made such claims before had spoken of impending signs, and never of signs that were to occur at such an exact time and in such a precise location. It gave him cause for thought.
CHAPTER 7
Nathan lay stretched out on the couch in his quarters as he continued to skim through the video recording collected by the signals intelligence team. But unlike his previous sessions, he wasn’t really looking for anything in particular; he was just looking.
The door buzzer sounded. Nathan paused the video feed, rose, and went to the hatch to open it.
“Hi,” Cameron said. “Got a minute?”
“Sure, come on in,” he invited, returning to the couch.
“You still watching that stuff?”
“Yeah. You know, it’s kind of amazing, really.”
“How so?”
“Well, their society. They’ve got music, sports, movies, and news. They’ve got families, schools, hospitals, celebrities. Hell, they’ve even got politics. It’s just like on Earth. I mean, it’s not; it’s very different. But then again, it isn’t. Does that make any sense to you?”
“Yes, actually, it does. I noticed the same thing back on Earth. I grew up on the European continent. We had all these little countries, and each one of them was very different: different languages, different foods, different music. But they were still basically all the same. Why should it be any different out here?”
“Come on, Cam. Not only are we a thousand light years away, but a thousand years have passed since these people left Earth.”
“They’re still human beings, Nathan, just like us.”
Nathan sat quietly in the dark room, the light of the flickering video monitor dancing across the room.
“Listen, I hate to ruin your viewing pleasure, but I thought you should see this,” she said, handing him a new data module. “Vlad and Allet got the base’s comm-array linked into our systems. This is one of the first signals we collected.”
Nathan took the module, got up, walked over to the control unit, and swapped it with the current module. It immediately began playing. The camera work was shaky and it was difficult to watch. It was obviously made up of clips from many different sources. Some of it was obviously done by amateurs and other bits were from news cameras on the scene, but both showed the same death and destruction. It was destruction on a massive scale. There was footage of huge streaks of red-orange balls of energy raining down from the sky and flattening buildings. There were bodies everywhere. Some of them had been torn apart by shock waves and debris, while others were burned beyond recognition. There were even some mounds of red, maroon, and black goo that Nathan later realized were people that had literally melted from the sudden intense heat of the energy blasts. Then, suddenly, the view cut to the weapons cameras of what Nathan assumed were either Ta’Akar fighters or rebel ships. They showed intermittent shots of the battle in orbit above the world that was being decimated. And it showed the Ta’Akar ship- the same one that he had rammed only minutes after accidentally arriving in the middle of the raging battle. It showed that very same ship raining the deadly balls of energy onto the helpless planet below.
Suddenly, Nathan felt great satisfaction that they had somehow managed to destroy that ship. “Is this what I think it is?” he asked quietly.
“Yes. This is footage from the attack on the last rebel base, the attack we jumped into the middle of. It was broadcast on the news networks on Corinair less than an hour ago.”
Nathan looked at Cameron. She had never seen such incredible guilt in anyone’s eyes. “Did we-” He had to stop for a moment to get control of himself. “Did I cause this?”
“No, Nathan. We didn’t cause this. These images are from before we arrived. If anything, we stopped it.”
“But why? Why would they glass the planet? Surely they knew they were slaughtering far more innocents than rebels.”
“They don’t care. As best I can tell, it’s their way of making sure that no one dares oppose them again.”
“How are the people on Corinair reacting? Surely something like this has to enrage them.”
“Surprisingly, they’re not reacting much at all. The few comments we’ve seen are supporting the action.”
“What? Are you kidding me?”
“Personally, I think they’re too scared to speak out. I mean, come on. After seeing that, wouldn’t you be afraid as well?”
Nathan continued to watch the recording, which by now was showing the aftermath of the devastating attacks. After a few minutes he had to ask. “So what happened to these people? Did anyone send them any aid?”
“No,” she answered flatly. “The entire world has been quarantined. If they’re going to recover, they’re going to have to do so on their own.”
No more words were exchanged between them over the next few minutes as they both sat watching in fascination and disgust.
“Anyway, I just thought you should know,” she told him as she rose to exit.
“Why? To scare me into running away or to make me want to stay and help them seek retribution?”
“I wasn’t trying to make you do anything, Nathan. I was just giving you the facts. You do what you think is right with them. That’s your job as Captain of this ship.”
Nathan stared at her for a moment, not knowing whether to thank her for trying to help, or curse her for forever searing the ghastly images into his mind. He finally decided she was just doing her job.
“Thanks, Cam.”
Cameron looked at him. His expression was as dour as she had ever seen it. “Goodnight, Nathan,” she said softly, after which she departed.
The priest of the Order of Origin was still troubled hours after his last counseling session. In fact, he had been so disturbed by that session that he had closed that day and gone home to spend time with his family. Later that evening, after dinner when he saw the news broadcast about the Ta’Akar attack against the last remaining Karuzari base, his concern grew deeper. He had always avoided choosing sides. He knew that the Doctrine of Origins was a complete falsehood. He knew it in his very soul. He risked his life every day in his role serving the Order, but it was a calling like no other. He was preserving a belief that had lasted for thousands of years across the galaxy, and no one man could dissuade him or his fellow worshipers of their belief.
Now that he had seen the footage of the near biblical destruction at the hands of the forces of Caius Ta’Akar, he well understood the evil of which the unknown woman had spoken. The evil was Caius the Great, as he liked to call himself. But even more so, the evil was in any one man being able to tell others how they must believe. The one truth he knew above all else was that faith had no power unless it was chosen freely.
All that evening he wrestled with his thoughts, with his conscience, and with his beliefs. His wife knew that something was troubling him. Normally a hearty eater, he had barely touched his dinner. And when queried about his thoughts, he simply assured her it was nothing of concern-which usually guaranteed the exact opposite was the case. But she also knew that during such times, it was best to let him sort it all out on his own. As always, in time,
