Samir stood at the window overlooking the city. Ghenus was sadly such an ugly planet. The labyrinth of metal felt like it was going to reach out and swallow him whole. Grey architecture as far as the eye could see and the occasional yellow of sterile light. He couldn’t imagine living in this city for a year—much less an entire lifetime.

“I never thought you would ever leave that moon,” Mina’s voice spoke clearly from the transceiver. “How does it feel to be back civilization, grandpa?”

Samir rubbed his eyes. “You know me. I’ve never been one for the city. I remember that old farm back on Ayyar. If only I could’ve spent the rest of my days there…”

“I think Ravi still holds the estate,” Mina said quietly. “You never told us why you left.”

Samir turned to face his granddaughter. “Home wasn’t home anymore.”

Mina sat quietly in her wheelchair. Her dark skin was wrinkled deeply with age while her long white hair draped over her shoulders. She wore a white gown that clung to her now thin form. Mina was old. Not as old as Samir but old enough. She had stopped receiving youth treatments and decided to age to her death. A decision like so many others in their early hundreds.

She shifted a little in the chair, and the hologram flickered with the movement. Because of the long distance, there was some signal delay between the two.

“If there had been more time, I would’ve traveled to Ghenus and met you in person.” Mina coughed into a lace napkin. “I don’t think I’ll be here when you get back.”

Samir went over and knelt by her side. Even with her looking so old, all he could see was the little girl bullying her younger brothers. He silently caressed her hand, running his fingers along the illusory form.

“Nonsense.” He chuckled. “You got plenty of fight left in you. I’ll be back in a just few years, and I’ll see my little Mina again. I promise.”

Mina looked at him with a rueful smile. “Oh, grandpa…” She shook her head.

Samir looked her in the eyes. She had that weary look about her he had seen in so many others. It absolutely broke his heart to see it in her. It was true. She didn’t have much time left. The life was slowly ebbing out as it naturally should.

“Have you spoken with Ravi and Arjun?” She suddenly asked.

“Yes, I have. Samir lowered his head and closed his eyes. “I just wanted to save my favorite for last.”

Mina laughed and for a moment, he could pretend he was back on Ayyar. His sons were still alive, and he was watching the children play with the dog. What was the name of that mutt? He couldn’t quite remember anymore.

Her laugh turned into a cough, and she again dabbed her mouth with the lace. Samir opened his eyes, and the memory faded.

“Go and have your adventure,” Mina finally said, her voice cracking. “You were never one for old age.”

Samir looked at her smiling eyes, her expression beckoning forward. He nodded his head, himself full of regrets. He never should have stayed alive this long. “This is my last one, Mina. As much as I don’t look like it, I’m tired too. There’s just something I have to do first.”

There was a beeping at the door, and Samir privately cursed. Amos was quicker to arrive than expected. Time seemed to be always running short.

Samir looked at his granddaughter one last time. “Goodbye, Mina.”

His little darling smiled back. “Goodbye, grandpa.”

He waved the image away and stood up. Straightening his uniform, he glanced at his reflection in the glass to make sure he looked professional. One hard conversation to another. He wiped away a single tear that escaped his eye before marching over to the door. Taking one last moment to compose himself, he opened the door to see his chief engineer dressed in uniform as well.

A young, stern face with curly hair saluted him in the doorway. “Sir.”

“At ease,” Samir tiredly spoke. “Will you come in?”

Amos was as stone. If the man betrayed any hint of being annoyed with the summons, Samir wasn’t able to tell. The younger Singh stepped into the room with a certain stiffness. It was clear this wasn’t a conversation either of them wanted to have.

Samir shook his head. He could already see the boy’s history before his eyes. No doubt he grew up idolizing his great ancestor. Wanted to join the reserve fleet to emulate him. Probably thought he could coast along with the name alone all his career. Samir hated that. The last thing he needed was another sycophant licking his boots.

“I’ve been told you decided to reject my offer.” Samir went over to his personal liquor cabinet and brought out the Borian Whiskey. Placing two glasses on the counter, he gestured for Amos to take a seat on one of the bar stools.

“I have.” Amos remained standing.

“May I ask your reasoning why?” Samir popped opened the lid and started pouring.

It wasn’t easy even with his connections, but Samir still had friends in high places. He had offered Amos about forty years in lifespan alongside a promotion to chief of technology. Forget about serving on a ship. He could have any in the galaxy as his own personal headquarters. So long as it wasn’t the Hyperion.

This was about as big as a break a youth could get in the reserve fleet. With this, Samir had effectively streamlined twenty years of mindless career drudgery. Amos might even see a position on the High Board if he wanted. He could’ve been one of the most powerful men in the galaxy, and he still turned the offer down.

“It didn’t agree with me, sir.” Amos responded flatly, his eyes never meeting Samir’s.

The Captain finished pouring the drinks, though he didn’t hand Amos a glass. “I expect a better answer than that. I opened doors for you at great personal expense. This was an offer you shouldn’t have refused.”

Amos remained silent.

“Why?” Samir asked again.

“I have my own reasons,” the younger Singh spoke quietly.

“If you don’t want to tell me, then fine. Keep your reasons to yourself. You’re still going to accept this.” Samir’s voice barely restrained anger. “You’re going to call Mr. Tannis, and you’ll be on a ship off Ghenus before daybreak. Do we have an understanding?”

Samir regretted his tone, but he was honestly not used to someone refusing. Most people simply caved to whatever he asked of them. It was frustrating that this lone boy, out of all people, had decided to be stubborn.

“Why do you want me off the Hyperion so much, sir?” Amos looked past Samir towards the wall. “Are you dissatisfied with my performance?”

Samir blinked. He grabbed one glass, still not offering the other to Amos. “I suppose you deserve an explanation. It looks… bad having one of my family in such a high position on the ship. The crew are going to think I put you there simply because of your relation to me. Nepotism—even when it’s only perceived—always starts problems. It’ll cause tension where there shouldn’t be any. I can’t afford that, not on this mission.”

“You don’t believe I can keep my own department in order?” Amos quietly asked.

“It has nothing to do with your talents,” Samir tried to ease the youth’s pride. “It has everything to do with circumstance and bad timing. I’m sorry, you will just have to be a victim to politics here.”

Amos turned to face Samir. “A captain cannot dismiss his subordinates without clear example of misconduct according to Article 53-7. You have admitted that you have found no problems with me.”

“You are not being dismissed,” Samir controlled his tone. “You are being promoted.”

Amos’ face twisted into a scowl. “And I wonder what tensions will be caused when Amos Singh is suddenly moved to chief of technology? If members of that department will not question how I gained my high position? What problems might nepotism cause then?”

“And I would trust in your talents to manage it.” Samir sipped from his whiskey. He raised the other glass to Amos, offering it to him. “Take the promotion and be happy about it. Please, don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

Amos’ eyes examined the glass of whiskey for a moment before the man glanced back up. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

Samir nodded.

“You of all people should know this is an insult, being barred from the most important mission in human history. Don’t talk like this is a gift. I won’t stand for your politics, and I refuse your offer.” Amos crossed his arms. “How would you react if someone tried to steal this from you?”

Samir gently set the glass down on the table. A stubborn, foolish boy. Why couldn’t he simply take orders like the rest of them? He could understand the desire to write one’s name in history. Better than most, he had been that boy at one point. He could see himself in Amos’ position. He did see himself there. Amos was almost the spitting of image of Samir back in his early twenties.

But it’s blind. Simply desiring to make an impact was dangerous. That kind of youthful pride had led him into the Danubik Wars. It led Samir right into the hell of Canna. And nothing has been right ever since then. It was clear to him now. Amos had to go.

“Take it however you want. It doesn’t change the fact that you will not be leaving with the Hyperion,” Samir spoke coldly.

Amos took a step forward to the Captain. Samir knew he had crossed a line, but he didn’t care. The chief engineer was a liability to him, and he didn’t need any extra problems. Nothing was going to stand in his way.

“You’re punishing me just for the name I have,” Amos spoke. “I shouldn’t have expected anything else.”

“And what do you know about punishment?” Samir couldn’t help but snort in disdain.

Canna had been his burden for the past two centuries. Seeing those planets broken and burning in the void would stay with him forever. He didn’t dare count how many died in the initial detonation, much less the subsequent evacuation from the other two star systems. But what was far worse was how he was treated. The galaxy celebrated him as a hero for the slaughter of countless millions, all because it ended the campaign just a few years earlier.

He couldn’t bear their eyes anymore. That was why he finally exiled himself. And now seeing this boy speak of punishment was almost laughable. Amos would’ve lived a life of luxury from Samir’s legacy. The darling family of the Free Exchange. What did he even begin to know?

Amos glared at Samir. “You may call yourself Singh, but you never lived with the name, not really. You got to retire to your moon while the rest of us had to live our lives. Generation after generation living under the shadow of your sin. All of us, Butchers.”

Samir flinched, but he kept his gaze fixated on Amos. He was shocked. There was an understanding in those eyes that he hadn’t seen in decades. Unlike so many others who had come and gone over the years, this lone boy had somehow understood. Samir didn’t know how or why, but the truth revealed itself on Amos’ face. The horror of what had happened, and the price to be paid for it.

“I took a vow to wipe the blood off our family name. I will not rest until I tear down your legacy. You’re not going to stop me from going on this mission. Don’t even try.” Amos stormed out of the room, leaving Samir to his whiskey.

Samir’s eyes glanced towards the open door. His eyes were alive with admiration that hadn’t been there since his youth. Finally, someone had understood. Amos was not the immature boy Samir had initially taken him for. After all this time, there was another who was willing to undertake the same mission Samir had dedicated himself towards.

He steadied himself on the counter and tapped his chest. “Computer, please bring up a link to Mr. Tannis.”

There was a beep as the connection was made. “What is it, Captain?”

“Call off the transfer,” Samir gulped the rest of the whiskey down. “I changed my mind. Amos will be serving as my chief engineer, after all.”