Skov’s End Station
Morvian Drift, Skov’s End System, Freehold Space
Standard Galactic Date: 2739, Cycle 03
Station Cycle: 14:22 Freehold Standard
Approach Time: 45 minutes to dock
Docking Status: Secure, Bay 17
Atmospheric Conditions: Stable, Gravity & Life Support Nominal
[= Connection Stable =]
Zara stretched her legs out across the co-pilot’s seat, arms folded behind her head. The Valkyrion’s hum filled the silence, steady and even.
Tim had left her alone.
That was fine.
She wasn’t going to sit around twiddling her thumbs while he played house.
She leaned forward, tapping the console. “Hey. Ares.”
A pause. Then, a smooth, synthetic voice filled the cockpit.
“Yes?”
She frowned. “That’s it? No dramatic ‘how may I assist you, honored guest’ speech?”
“Would you like a dramatic greeting?” Ares asked, deadpan.
Zara smirked. “Nah, I’d rather you answer my question.”
Silence.
She sighed. “You’ve got access to Republic servers, right?”
“…I do not recall granting you clearance to my operational functions.”
Zara rolled her eyes. “I’m not trying to mess with your whatever, I just want some info.”
“On?”
She tapped her fingers against the console. “Who do you think?”
Ares sighed. A literal, robotic sigh.
“Commander Corvus’s personal records are classified.”
Zara leaned back. “Figures.”
She drummed her fingers again.
“You could give me something, though.”
“I could do many things,” Ares replied, tone dry. “But the probability of me caring enough to do them is low.”
Zara huffed, sitting up. “Come on. Just the basic stuff. You don’t have to tell me about whatever secret war crimes he did—”
“Classified.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” she muttered. “I just want to know who he was. You know, before the whole rebel thing.”
A pause.
“…Accessing public records.”
Zara blinked.
Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
“Wait, really?”
Ares hummed. “I calculate an 84% probability that you will continue to ask until I comply. This is a shortcut to efficiency.”
She smirked. “Smart AI.”
A flicker of light washed over the console. The holoscreen flared to life, displaying a Republic personnel file.
Zara squinted, scanning the page.
Commander Timus Lucian Aurelius Corvus - Republic Naval Records
- Birthplace: Classified
- Status: AWOL / Warrant Issued for Desertion
- Former Rank: Commander, 5th Fleet Special Operations - T88
- Training: Centurion Academy, Republic Intelligence Warfare Division
- Known Campaigns: (Partial List Available)
- Battle of Talos Rift
- Yandros Offensive
- Siege of Kharvos Station
- Operation Revenant – REDACTED
Her stomach twisted.
She recognized some of those battles.
Talos Rift. Yandros. Kharvos Station.
Tim had been in those?
She exhaled sharply, rubbing her temple. “Shit.”
The screen shifted again.
New document.
She frowned. “What’s this?”
Ares remained silent.
She read the title.
Adoption & Early Training.
Zara’s brows furrowed. “Adoption?”
The file expanded, revealing a name she actually recognized.
Legatus Varro Marcellis – Republic Senate & Naval Command
(Currently in exile at an undisclosed location.)
- High Strategos of the Centurion War Program
- Supreme Commander of Special Warfare Operations
- Architect of Republic War Doctrine
- Master of Fleet & Ground Warfare
- Adoptive Guardian of Timus Corvus
“Varro Marcellis…” Zara spat, the name sent a pulse of white-hot anger through her.
She sucked in a slow breath, trying to keep her voice steady. “He wouldn’t adopt anyone.”
“Clarify,” Ares responded.
“He wasn’t some kind of savior,” she bit out. “He was a butcher.”
A pause. Then: “Legatus Varro Marcellis led multiple large-scale Republic compliance operations—”
“Compliance?” Zara snapped. “Is that what you call it?”
She pushed off the console, pacing now, chest tight.
“My parents were on Vesperia Prime,” she said, her voice low, tight, barely controlled. “When the Republic came to ‘liberate’ them.”
Ares flashed new files onto the screen.
VESPERIA PRIME - REPUBLIC ARCHIVE
- Status: Former colony world.
- Governance: Independent Freehold (prior to annexation).
- Republic Operation: Compliance Order V-17
- Mission Objective: Neutralize separatist resistance. Install Republic governance.
- Commanding Officer: Legatus Varro Marcellis
- Casualties: Estimated 60% civilian casualty rate.
Zara’s breath hitched.
Sixty percent.
She already knew the numbers, but seeing them again—stamped and approved by the Republic’s cold bureaucratic machine, made her sick.
She shook her head, fists clenched, breath unsteady.
"I was just a kid. We both were." Her voice wavered, but she pushed through. "And I remember everything. Every name. Every scream. Every body that hit the ground."
Her throat tightened, a lump forming that she couldn’t swallow.
"It’s like a curse. A nightmare that doesn’t end. I will never forget."
Ares remained silent.
Not because he was considering his words. Because he didn’t need to.
Zara exhaled sharply, shoving a hand through her hair, pacing like a caged animal.
"The Republic called them separatists. Said they were too dangerous to be left alone." Her voice rose, shaking with frustration, grief, rage.
She turned back toward the console, glaring at the holoscreen.
"So they sent a monster to burn my home to the ground.”
"Incorrect."
Zara’s breath hitched. "Excuse me?"
Ares continued, tone as calm and detached as ever.
"Legatus Marcellis did not burn your home to the ground."
She blinked. "Then what the hell do you call it?!"
Ares brought up a tactical assessment report.
It played like a machine analyzing historical data.
"Strategic Review: The Vesperia Prime Insurrection."
The screen filled with military records, heat maps, orbital surveillance feeds.
Ares continued, voice steady.
"The Vesperian resistance was growing. If left unchecked, it would escalate into full-scale rebellion within five years. The Republic sent the Legatus, not to fight a war, but to ensure one never began."
Zara’s hands curled into fists.
Ares wasn’t finished.
"Standard Republic doctrine dictates overwhelming force, shock and awe. Marcellis rejected this."
A new set of files appeared. A list of names. Thousands of them.
"He judged."
Zara froze.
Ares continued.
"Those deemed irredeemable… those who would never submit, never comply, were executed."
Zara’s breath shook.
"The rest? The ones who surrendered?"
Another set of names appeared, smaller but still significant.
"Re-education. Forced labor. Debt servitude. The Republic allowed them to live, but not freely."
She stared at the screen, chest tight as Ares delivered the final blow.
"Your world was not burned. It was judged. The unworthy were purged. The rest were allowed to serve."