Captain Selena Mareth was reviewing a dire report on her starship’s dwindling resources when her door chimed.
“Enter.”
First Officer Astra Varenson walked in. “I have something to show you, Captain,” she said.
Mareth leaned over her desk to look at the red dot on Varenson’s tablet.
“Spectrometer readings suggest the presence of lithionix deposits on the fifth planet of this twin-star planetary system,” Varenson said, zooming in. “We should alter course and send a probe.”
Captain Mareth studied the numbers before her. Lithionix was in low supply on the Homeland, and after two centuries in space, recycling it was more difficult than ever. To save their reserves, they hadn’t used the warp drive in thirty years. So the possibility of finding lithionix was great news. But something about this promising proposal made her pause.
She glanced through her round window at the speckled darkness outside. Her duty was to get her generational ship to its destination, away from the radioactive planet Theradon had become. With a third of the journey left, the lithionix problem would only grow larger. But altering course to send a probe was risky too. Accelerating would strain the Homeland’s resources with no guarantee of success. Still, they only had the chance to restock lithionix once every few decades, if that.
“I need more data,” Mareth said, leaning back in her chair. “Send a probe without altering course.”
“Yes, Captain,” Varenson said.
§
They’re scanning me, making my planetary surface tingle. Looking for lithionix, as the dreadful Sorinens did four thousand years ago. I’m forced to distort their readings with my magnetic field because I promised my people I would never allow foreigners to land here again.
My people were once foreigners too: space travelers. Twelve thousand years ago I welcomed them, though I didn’t have a spaceport back then, and they had to land in an open field at my equator. I had been so lonely for billions of what they called “years,” and I felt grateful for the company.
They were special creatures I loved the moment they stepped off their starship. Purple-eyed, about as tall as a tropical shrub, segmented exoskeleton, and six limbs that could work magic, though they called it “technology.” I wanted them to stay awhile and show me the magic they could create just by extracting elements from my surface and combining them in ingenious ways. It was something none of my native animals had ever done.
Their ship left once it resupplied, but to my delight, some travelers decided to stay behind and make me their planet. They taught me how to talk to them using alternating electric and magnetic fields, and they told me that my name was “Home.”
We lived in peace for thousands of years, but I secretly hoped for more space travelers and more magic. My people were against building a spaceport because they didn’t trust foreigners, but relented when I promised them wind for their turbines and sunshine for their crops and solar panels.
Then the Sorinens arrived.
§
In the starship’s command center, First Officer Varenson assembled a special team of scientists to analyze the data sent by a probe exploring the fifth planet in the twin-star system. If the results were promising, she would offer to lead the exploratory mission.
This would be her chance to seize control of critical sectors of the Homeland, and she would be the first officer in the ship’s history to challenge a superior. But her mutiny was justified because her superior mismanaged the lithionix shortage. If her timing was right, she could become Captain Varenson soon enough.
“I’m sorry, First Officer,” a senior scientist said, looking disappointed. “But our initial readings appear to have been faulty. There’s no lithionix on that planet.”
“Are you sure?” Varenson said, her stomach dropping.
“Yes,” another scientist said. “We repeated the analysis, and it’s the same result. Zero.”
“Engage the ship’s navigation spectrometers,” Varenson told them, even though it was against the captain’s orders.
“But that could pose a risk to our collision detection array,” the lead scientist said.
“Discovering lithionix is well worth the short-term safety risk,” Varenson said. “You want us to get our warp drive working again, don’t you?”
Some voices were louder than others, but every scientist returned a “Yes, First Officer Varenson.”
§
Four thousand years ago, the Sorinens docked an entire fleet at my orbital spaceport, bringing millions of foreigners on ships, skiffs, and shuttles. They looked different from my people. Tall, blue-skinned creatures with four fingers on their two hands and slit pupils in their gray eyes. I was excited to find out what magic they would bring us.
The Sorinens told us by pointing to images on tablets that they were looking for a new home. Their old planet, Sorinan, was being scorched as their sun turned into a red giant.
“This is Home,” my people told them, so the Sorinens decided to stay.
Some of my people complained about the resources needed to house such a large population of foreigners, but I reminded them that their ancestors had also been space travelers in need.
With Sorinan’s gravity higher than mine, the newcomers had greater strength than my people, so we had to teach them how to use our buildings, tools, and self-driving vehicles without causing damage. Respirators helped them adjust to our air. They learned our common language. Our vaccines protected many against our native germs—though not every Sorinen survived.
They valued their independence, but I hoped that in time they would become “my people” too. For now, they wanted to maintain their way of life, and I understood. We helped them find regions for their first settlements, where they built domes that harvested the energy of our twin suns to maintain a native Sorinen habitat inside.
But their domes needed lithionix to function. It didn’t hurt me when they scanned for ore, but they wounded me when they blew up a mountaintop to look for deposits, as if I was a candy box they could stick their four-fingered hands into. When they drained my favorite lake to get to the underground brine reservoir, I was heartbroken, and the atmospheric river of my tears drowned a few Sorinens that day.
My people told me, “The Sorinens are feral. They lived for generations aboard their fleet and forgot how to get along with those outside their tribe. They must leave.”
Since the Sorinens hadn’t brought us any new magic, I agreed they should leave. But they rebelled instead and showed us a kind of magic I had never seen before. They brought us war.
§
“You have the probe analysis?” Captain Mareth asked from her desk, hoping for good news.
“With eighty-two percent certainty,” First Officer Varenson said, “there’s lithionix on that planet. I recommend a mining detour. I’ll organize the mission, and I’ll need more people under my command.”
It was a good plan, but the excited look on the first officer’s face made Mareth hesitate.
“That leaves the other eighteen percent,” the captain said. “That’s too high a risk.”
Varenson’s jaw twitched. “We operate with lots of unknowns, Captain, and we must take risks. If we wanted absolute certainty, we wouldn’t have left Theradon to find another home.”
The pushback further heightened Mareth’s suspicion, though she had no reason to doubt her first officer. Except, maybe, an intuition she had inherited from her ancestors. Could this be a pretext for Varenson to consolidate her power on the Homeland? To what end though? Their planet’s history had been full of betrayals and war, but this starship worked through cooperation and peace. Their survival depended on it—or so they thought.
“Your job is to provide information, First Officer, but the decision rests with me.”
Varenson took a step toward the captain’s desk. “We need our warp speed capabilities back if we’re to make it to our destination—and we need them back soon.”
Her intensity made up the captain’s mind. “And I need to keep everyone on the Homeland safe. That planet is no longer of interest. Dismissed.”
§
My people had heard of war from legends and myths but weren’t prepared to fight.
“It’s your fault,” they told me once the carnage began. “You forced us against our better judgment to welcome foreigners from across the galaxy. We won’t follow your orders anymore. We’ll do things our way now.”
I was hurt, but did as they asked: I let them be.
During the land war that followed, all I could do was watch and weep over my burning forests. I comforted myself with the knowledge that forests and fires had been together since trees first grew from my soil—before flowers even existed.
By the time my people cried, “Please help us win this war, Home,” tens of thousands had died on both sides. But answering their call would hurt me like an asteroid collision—and in the process, it would kill many of my people too.
“We need our Home back,” they begged me.
Still, I hesitated. At last, I told myself: These mortals, they all have such short lifespans anyway, and more purple-eyed creatures will soon be born to restore my balance. And so, I stepped in and caused a massive volcanic eruption on the Sorinen-occupied territory.
Soot blackened my sky, and fire licked my trees and animals. Hot lava burned my skin, and I wailed in pain with the roar of a boiling ocean. Many of my people died in the ensuing quakes. But the Sorinens were wiped out.
When silence fell at last, I looked at those who survived, and I cried. But this time, just a light drizzle that wouldn’t hurt them.
They walked the land where cities had once been. Everything was flat and covered in a scab of lava, a wound already starting to heal.
“Tear down the spaceport,” I told them. “No more foreigners. Ever. And build underground shelters to protect yourselves from future volcanic eruptions.”
§
Alarms blared on the Homeland following a collision with a meteoroid the ship’s detection system had missed.
“All crew, this is First Officer Varenson,” she said over the intercom on the bridge. “We’ve had a collision, but the situation is under control. Stay alert and follow protocol.”
“Where is Captain Mareth?” an officer asked, while others scrambled to their stations.
Varenson glanced at the captain’s empty chair. This unexpected development might unite the Homeland behind her against the captain.
“Damage report,” her voice cut through the din.
“Automated systems are sealing the breach,” an officer answered.
“No casualties so far,” another said.
Such accidents had happened in the early years of their journey through their solar system, but stray rocks were less common in interstellar space. Maybe entering the heliosphere of the twin stars had increased the likelihood of dangerous encounters. Varenson should have considered that before using parts of the collision detection array to scan for lithionix. Still, this was an unusual meteoroid field.
The ship shuddered again as another rock grazed the hull.
“Helm,” Captain Mareth said, striding onto the bridge, “adjust our course to avoid the densest part of this field. Engineering, prepare for more impact.”
The bridge, just moments ago buzzing with frantic activity, settled into a competent rhythm under the captain’s orders. No more hesitation, as if Mareth was made for this crisis.
To hide her disappointment, Varenson moved to the collision detection console. The diverted spectrometers didn’t show up on the dashboard, which was good. They’d investigate the array’s failure later, but she knew how to hide the evidence.
Once the ship’s course changed, avoiding further damage, it was time for Varenson to get in front of the problem she had created.
“I find it odd,” she said, “that we hit this rough patch just after we scanned that planet for lithionix.”
“Agreed,” Captain Mareth said. “We need to take another look at it.”
Varenson was surprised by this turn of events. Scanning the planet again would help her get the lithionix and seize control of the Homeland in the process.
“But this time, I’ll be leading the probe team,” the captain added.
§
I had hoped my magnetic distortions would make that starship mind its course, but they’re scanning me again. My meteoroid attack didn’t deter them, either. I can’t risk waiting around to see if these foreigners come here. By then, it might be too late for me and my people.
Firing the great volcano again will destroy life in that region, cool down the climate, and set my people back years. And it will burn me alive. Again. But I have no choice. My people will hide in the underground shelters we built after the Sorinen war. I won’t lose even one soul this time. And then I’ll help them rebuild.
Still, I wonder who these foreigners are. What color their eyes and skin, how many limbs, what kind of magic they know? Why did they have to leave their home planet? What stories do they tell their children? Have they ever known war? Could they have been “my people” too? I guess I’ll never know, and that’s a shame.
§
At her desk, Captain Mareth studied her analysts’ report, describing an uninhabitable planet covered in toxic, volcanic clouds. First Officer Varenson stood before her, looking confident as always.
“The new readings show lithionix on that planet with ninety-eight percent certainty,” Mareth said.
“Then we must proceed with an exploratory mission, Captain,” Varenson said.
Mareth shook her head. “The planet’s corrosive clouds will damage our hull. And you know that, First Officer. Yet you still want to proceed. Why? Are you plotting to use this mission to take over my ship?”
“What? That’s an absurd accusation.” Varenson shifted in place.
“How do you think I got these lithionix numbers?” The captain stood up from her chair. “I used the navigation spectrometers. Just as you did. Against my orders. I should throw you out of an airlock for treason.”
That would be unprecedented on their peaceful starship, and the backlash would be fierce. But Mareth was ready to carry out her threat. The resolve her ancestors had needed to endure past wars stirred inside her. She glared at the officer for what seemed like minutes.
Varenson looked away first. “I was only trying to bring you the most accurate readings, Captain. Because we need warp speed to make it to our destination before the Homeland starts falling apart.”
“And we’ll find some if we keep searching. So keep searching… Second Officer.”
Varenson’s yellow eyes widened in shock. “Yes, Captain. Understood.”
But Mareth had no illusions. This was only a temporary victory. She now had to prepare the Homeland for possible war. Something described only in history books.
Roxana Arama
is an award-winning Romanian American author. She studied computer
science in Bucharest, Romania, and moved to the United States to work in
software development. She is the author of three novels: The Regolith Temple: A Sci-Fi Thriller, The Exiled Queen: A Roman Era Historical Fantasy (in the Delight of Humans and Gods series), and Extreme Vetting: A Thriller.
Her short stories and essays have been published in many literary
magazines. She lives in Seattle, Washington, with her family.
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