*



Accountability.



Nobody likes it. Nobody wants it. We have killed the old God (or Gods whatever your preference) with our self promoting stupid intellectual b.s. as if we are the fucking masters of the galaxy.

Intellect tells us that there is no accountability. In fact, as society progresses (such as it is) the stigma of accountability diminishes. Murderers are not responsible for their actions. Oh no. It was their parents who abused them as children. It's not the rapist that is to blame for the slut asked for it with her dress. Oh no.

It seems the smarter we get the better we are at blaming other things for our fuckups. We create such idiotic notions and try to pass it off brilliance or clever that we move even farther away from the true source of all blame.


Us!


Very few people admit to being a fuck-up nowadays. And those that do talk about it so much enjoying the fame that comes with such labels so as to shelter us from the consequences of our own screwed up mind.


Yeah, you probably think you're cool because of some fucked-up stuff that you did or will do or are thinking about.


But I suppose it doesn't really matter if we recognize our own accountability for apathy has made us all not give a shit anyway.



anyway, more ships came from this so-called Commonwealth. It seems that our great cities of industry are of interest but no one can figure out why we aren't taking advantage of our abilities. No one can figure out why no one tries to develope an infrastructure to develop more.


We all used to work and we all used to have exceptional skills. So why...?


Finally, someone got the bright idea of actually asking us (And they were probably the brighter ones).


Why?
Why?
Why?


Naturally, being the fuck-ups that we are, we blamed something else.






Sparthios.

*


Within the historical texts of Capricia, before the rise of the Nas Viscian Molinjar and the Clans, there exists four terms that many seem to associate with the old 'cornerstones' of something once called the Commonwealth Union of Worlds.

It is known that ancient Capricia made up a part of this old faction and sent it's most powerful representatives. There is nothing known but the names of the four sent...

They are: Anthimos, Sparthios, Laross and Telani


What legend wrapped itself around the name Sparthios, especially in the Wyl Sector was a mystery and one that no one wanted figured out.



No one ever gives a shit about history and usually won't until it comes slapping them in the face.

Like stepping on a hypodermic needle on a beach, no one gives a shit until they feel the sting and guess what? You're dead!

History is like that.

Nice and cozy in the back of your uncaring mind until you 'step' on something and think: "Oh shit! I shouldn't have done that!"


When our backwater planet offered up the name to the Capricians, they instantly recognized it as originating from their language and so began to investigate.

And like all stupid people with an inane curiosity of sticking their head into a room to see if an ax-murder is laying in wait, they stuck their heads out.

Now, in all our religious variants, there is always one guy that is pissed with God and his way of things and tries to stir some shit up to make things easier for him. A rather daring chap and in all cases, somewhat successful.

That's why we are all headed to God's Cooking Pot of his Discontent.

It's not just for fags and sluts anymore.


Well, the point I am trying to make in all of this is that 'guy' that pisses off God?

Yeah.


That's Sparthios.


Oddly enough, if one looked up into the night sky and look to the north and see a rather blue twinkle, that is Sparthios also.

A dead world.

A world of the dead.

A world where, according to our local BS, all sinners go when they die.

It is a forbidden world and one that no one with any sense would travel too... except fucking Capricians.


I swear.


They'll be the death of all of us soon enough.


And yet, as more ships from the Commonwealth enter our poor system, I get regular updates that an expedition is being mounted.


I am beside myself in unsophisticated superstition and yet I find I too am curious.

I mean, what the fuck does the face of the devil look like?


Can I print it?

And for how much?



Well, shit.


A man's gotta eat.

*



Filtered Air.


That's what I breath on these starships. What amazes me the most is the sterile, clean smell that attracts my nose. Not even our hospitals smell this clean, not to mention blood wouldn't be caught dead dripping in rooms on this ship.


But even that novelty wears off as the fear and anxiety begins to grow in the pit of my stomach the closer we get to Sparthios.


Granted, it is an interplanetary trip which naturally translates into a rather short trip but these Capricians do, every once in a while, illicit that rare but valuable commodity called: Caution.


There was a pretty woman on the bridge when I walked onto it carrying my antiquated research material but I learned through the grapevine that she was off-limits. She slept with a Seth Vinda's Right Hand Machine or something like that.


Never fails.


Find a good woman you wouldn't mind having a tussel with and you find a robot is screwing her brains out.


How do you compete with that?


Still, my day dreams were impenetrable and I have an overactive imagination so ...


"What have you found out?" she asked, clearly irritated at my presence. Perhaps it was the fact that I had yet to shower for the day, having spent all night pouring through these godforsaken documentaries from Sephis-Wyl on references to Sparthios, separating fact from religious innuendo and this was the thanks I get.


Fucking women.


"Removing all our religious mumbo jumbo, the one glaring fact I could find was that the CSA did not send ships to Sparthios. They had sensors like everyone else but felt content to ignore the planet... which either says something smart about them and something dumb about us or.."


"Anything else?" the blonde woman snapped, interrupting my diatribe. I was just getting warmed up and her interuption was fracking annoying.


"Like what?" I sneered back.


"Like Caprician references?" she answered back quickly.


I was taken aback. They were looking for something of their own culture here? Curious. Interesting even. But I sure as hell wasn't going to let her in on my thoughts. "Oh yes, your fucking Clannus Prime took a shit there one time.."



"Sweet Clannus Prime!" the woman bellowed. "YOU ARE IMPOSSIBLE!"


Releshing my victory at getting a rise out of her, I smirked, "Don't shout at me, woman! You are not Omnae from Brindheir.."


The blonde woman turned instantly at my remark and I drew back thinking she would strike. It looked cowardly but then if you've ever been thumped by a woman who knows how to thump, you'd know it was anything but.


"What the hell did.." she started


"..you say?!" a rather fat man rounding the bridge from the Science Pit finished named Herridian Wye.


I shrank farther still and truth be told, THAT was cowardice. "Don't shout?"


I couldn't help it.


My voice squeeked.


Where the fuck was that filtered air now?

*



The planet was grey, as if it's entire surface were covered in thick, heavy rain clouds.

"Strange," muttered a scanning officer and Scipio turned to the source of the noise.

"What?" she demanded.

"When we entered the system, I threw all sensor sweeps forward and I thought... I thought I caught a glimpse of the world as green and blue. Picture perfect."

"And now?"

"Now, our scans cannot penetrate the cloud canopy."


I smirked, "Seems like someone doesn't like snoops."


She turned and brightened. "Entire correct, Sir!" she exclaimed. "Such actions denote intelligent thought. At least we know we are on the right track."


The activity on the bridge seemed to intensify at that revelation and I mentally kicked myself for not thinking it through in favor of firing off a sardonic remark and the hot blonde.


But I was not going to be outdone. "Perhaps we should show our intelligence in respecting the planet's wishes."


The fat man named Herridian wiped his brow nervously. It was rumored that he was in command of a science-vessel during the vaunted Conquest of Capricia and that his part was key to these Capricians gaining the upperhand.


Truthfully, I could not see how this nervous, portly fellow could be key to anything other than indigestion.


But it was this portly fellow who backed my opinion and I suddenly felt a part of this motley group of explorers/do-gooders.


"The chap's got a point, Scipio. This could play badly if interpreted wrong."


"I know, Herridian. I know," sighed the blonde. "Let's just stay in orbit for now and see what happens. Let's turn the sweeps to the surrounding area and perhaps we can get somewhat of a better idea of what we are dealing with here."


"What?" I barked out, "You're going to look at the planet's trash floating about? What the fuck is that going..."

I stopped and as I did, I saw that damnedable blonde woman wink at me.


You can learn alot about people from their trash. That is something I should have known for I came from the biggest trashpile planet in the history of the galaxy.

Score another one for the bitch.

What was the use?


What did bathroom scum like me have to do with these do-gooder explorers like the Capricians?


By now, I've heard stories (not told to me directly of course as I did not like interacting with these people) regarding one exploit or another during the horror invasion had inflicted upon their world. Had there not been info-visuals of the invasion, I would have dismissed half of the stories as mere fabrication for to hear them tell it, the Devil and his Legions themselves saw fit to vacation on Capricia. Seeing it on an info-visual, however, let me see that the Devil and his Legions would have been a stroll in the park.


I knew what the problem was and because I knew, I hated not only myself but these Capricians because I knew. You know?


Despite their hardships, they seemed to keep an aura of detached innocence.

No! Not innocence!

They kept their positive outlook on life intact, even as theirs seemed on the edge of being snuffed out. And here I was, living in poverty on a planet in economic ruin among a people who no longer gave a rat's ass about anything because they were too busy eating the rat.


Even washed, I felt dirty.


Even when the dirt under my nails was cleaned and my skin scrubbed, I felt a thin layer of scum covering me as if I was dipped into it like a wingbat-on-a-stick.


Damn, those are good!, my stomach grumbled.


Perhaps the bloody planet would blow us the hell up and my self pity would abruptly end?


My mind did not shy away from that thought as it did have that one kernel of attraction suicide often did.

The opportunity to "get away from it all".



*


"Shall I kill them?"

It took me a while to realize that something had spoken and that it was not simply the stray demented thought that sometimes popped into my head.

I looked down at my writing stylus and saw that it stared back with two eyes and a mouth.


Given this new information, I wish it had been simply a demented thought. You know, those thoughts that pop into your head and that you bury so as to not acknowledge their presence. Thoughts like what it would be like to have sex with your stepmom? Have a homosexual experience? Drink piss or kick your grandmother's favorite pet?


You know, those thoughts that mean you are within the realms of normality in this fucked up race called: humanity.


But a stylus glaring and speaking to me?


My mind was so far outside those imaginary lines of normality dare I chance a conversation with the stylus?


"How would you do that?" I blurted out almost as an excuse to stretch the time I took debating whether or not to hold this conversation to begin with.

Almost.

I was genuinely curious how the stylus would accomplish such a task.


My hand moved so quickly that my mind did not register the danger until I felt the pain against my chest. I had stabbed at my own heart with my stylus hand and thank Empion the cap was on. Otherwise, it would have actually penetrated.


As it was, I was yelping in pain as the stylus glared at me.


I know... stupid question!, I thought.


I wanted to glare back but did not find the courage.


When a person glares at you in reference to your stupidity, that's one thing.


But when a stylus does, you might as well wad up your self esteem and flush it down the nearest waste recepticle.


"Shall. I. Kill. Them?"


It enunciated each word carefully as if speaking to a moron.


"K..Kill who?" I stammered.


Another stupid question and another stab at my chest.


I screamed out in pain.


"SHALL. I. KILL. THEM?"


The stylus was nothing if not persistent.


"NO!" I shouted back at it.


"Then why do you secretly desire them to fail? Why do you secretly desire some calamaty to befall them?"

The stylus was really driving home the hurt.

"B... Because they are uppity, self absorbed, arrogant bitches that deserve to have their lives turned upside down like mine!"


"Arrogant, indeed. Shame on them for providing you with clean air, food and water."

Now the stylus was just being a bitch.


My eyes narrowed in anger. "Now look you little .. OWW!"


The bastard stabbed me again!


"The truth hurts." the stylus lamented.


"First you want me to kill them and now you're defending them?!" I shouted.


"No," the stylus replied calmly, "I asked you if you wanted them dead and since I am a figment of your imagination, you are defending them."


"Look, you little bitch!" I scream, "Why would I defend these people who care more for their own agenda than for me?!"


"You mean care for you more than you care for you?" the writing instrument clarified.


"NO, I MEAN----OWW... FUCK .. THAT HURTS!!"


"So does the truth. And you know this." the stylus said softly.


I was crying and in tears now. "Wh...why do you say this..?"


I admit it. I was confused and balling and I was in fucking pain.


"Because the truth is," the little instrument concluded, "you could have let me go at any time to spare yourself the pain."


Needless to say, I hurled the stylus across the room.



"FUCK YOU!" I shouted, tears streaming down my face, my insides a confusing mash of emotions.


In the mess of emotional release, I found myself exhausted. Sparing a quick glance at the gray clouds of the planet outside my view port, my head drifted until I found a pillow and was soon unconscious.

I awoke with a splitting headache and pushed the comm button (as I was instructed to do if I experienced any symptoms attributed to space flight). No one answered, which was not that big of a surprise.

They had better things to do like exploring the planet Sparthios below us.

As I moved, I felt a sharp soreness in my chest where I had stabbed myself with the writing stylus. Despite my groan, I kept that experience locked tightly in my mind.

I was after a pill, after all, and not a straight-jacket.

Realizing that I had slept in my clothes rumpling them in the process, I started to change but realized I wasn't out to win any fashion contests and so I stepped out of my room into the empty corridor.

"No.. don't bother! I know my way.." I muttered and looked for a helpful terminal that might show me the way to the MedDeck. (In actuality, it was very large room that did not comprise the whole deck. Why they called it MedDeck is beyond me!)

The aircirculating motors were still spinning and as I walked I felt the temperature drop a few degrees. Not that I don't mind the cold but couple that with knowing a few layers of metal and glass lay between you and the coldest cold you could ever imagine enhanced the temperature drop so that I shivered.

Fuck!

Now I had to pee.

Now, everyone in the universe probably knows where the restrooms on a Victory Class Star Destroyer are but, pardon me for my ignorance, I sure as hell didn't.

Not counting the one in my quarters, of course. But I was too proud to simply walk back and too proud to ask for directions (if I ever saw a fucking crewman walking by! Where the fuck were they?).

But there must be some sort of communal restrooms around here. What if you were walking down Corridor B only to find out a wave of diarrhea has struck? And your quarters are 3 decks above?

Not having communal restrooms was a piss-poor design for a starship at any rate. Or so I thought.

The deck curved slightly and a viewport came into sight. There was not much to see except gray clouds that covered the entire plexiglass view.

These Capricians must have decided on a lower orbit hoping they wouldn't piss off whoever was blocking their scans.

The bitch-Captain is nothing if not persistant.

At any rate, I really had to pee now.

At any rate, I decided to use the fact that noone was around to my advantage.

It's not my fault there was no help terminal!


I unzipped my trousers and started to decorate the corner of the deck and the floor plating.


Staring out the window at (apparently) nothing, I started to whistle.


Perhaps they'll blame the stain on a leaky droid!

"Herridian, I may have made a mistake," the former leader of Scipio Clan admitted as they sat there powerless.

The battery power was close to being used up.

It was strange how fast it had happened. As the angled in for a closer orbit, everything seemed to go according to whatever plan had been forming inside her head.

The gray atmosphere still interfered with their sensor readings and so a decision was made to send a probe down.

The questions regarding this planet the locals on Sephis-Wyl called Sparthios demanded some sort of action. At least, curiosity thought so.

The probe was launched and as soon as it penetrated the gray cloudcover, the entire ship went dark as if someone simply reached in and flipped some giant switch to the "off" position.

All efforts to revive the dead systems had proved fruitless and their orbit began to decay. Oddly, the batteries immediately activated at the loss of power but there was a pattern to what system still worked and what system did not.

Life Support remained though the batteries drained though the engineering deck remained largely inoperable. The temperature controls and gravity plating functioned but communications, sensors, and weapons remained inoperable.

So for the past ten hours they drifted in their orbit, the decay becoming more and more pronounced.

What a way to die! the woman thought scornfully, regretting that Achinta would never know how she met her end. Perhaps he would follow her here only to succumb to whatever it was that had struck them.

Or who!

The damage was just too specific to be random accident. Of that they all were sure of.

But why?

What was this bloody planet all about?

And as despair began to really sink in, she turned to her older friend, older mentor and finally admitted something that she rarely voiced even to herself.

"Herridian, I may have made a mistake.."

And at the uttered sentence..



..the power returned to the ship startling them all.


"FINALLY!" a new voice cried out behind her and as she turned her seat, she saw a rather large imposing figure of a man. Actually, a very handsome man. Achinta was a humaniform adroid and this human-looking man looked like he would have been able to go a round with Seth Vinda's right hand man and not break a sweat.

"You can pull a star cruiser through an eye of a needle but to get a woman to admit that she's made a mistake?

I definitely thought you'd all burn up before she even commented that she'd chosen the wrong color clothes to die in!"


"Who are you?" Scipio demanded sternly, hoping that someone behind her had the good sense to call the ship's security to the bridge.


The man's chiseled features broke out into a grin and he bowed formally.

"Alas, where are my manners?

My Lady, I am your most humble servant and, apparently, your captor."


His smile widened disarmingly, "But you may call me: Sparthios."

"What are you?" Scipio asked, knowing that if the ship's security even made it to the bridge, any person who could turn on and off the power of a starship would make short work of them if they so chose.


"You're a Simulacrum," Herridian Wye whispered and the newcomer merely placed his palms on over his heart as if pained.


"Ahh.. such inquiring, virgin minds. No, I am not anything so crude as a Simulacrum."


"You're a Solarian, then?" Scipio wondered if Herridian was going to go through all the ancient Caprician terms for some connection.


"You are a darling race of people aren't you?"


The Capricians were not sure how to take that. "You are mentioned in our early texts.." admitted Herridian but the statement did not impress the man Sparthios.


"The nearby world of Sephis calls me Empion. Another world another name," the man grinned, "God to all."


"You are not God," snapped Scipio and the Herridian gestured to her furiosly admonishing her not to upset this evidently powerful figure.


"What is God?" Sparthios asked nonchalantley. "I can destroy this vessel with a snap of my fingers. I can show up in a blink of an eye on a planet!"


"Can you answer prayers?" the Captain of the Ressario drove home.


The man, Sparthios, stopped his almost memorized diatribe and a surprised chuckle burst from his lips.


"My, my, you are the devil's own wench!" he exclaimed.


"And you are not the quietest piece of machinery ever created," the Caprician woman replied, not intending to be out-done.


"You haven't heard Anthimos, then," the man waved her comment away. "Yes, yes, you are Caprician. Engineered life that seems to have progressed farther than your earlier designers ever imagined possible. A shame they are dust now."


"So, Capricians made you?" Herridian asked and Sparthios gave him an incredulous look. "Sweet Clannus Prime, aren't you a clever chap. What clued you in? Those ancient Caprician texts that referred to me?"


Herridian reddened, "They referred to a name, Sparthios. That does not necessarily mean it's you!"


Sparthios clapped his hand, "You have a point there, dear Chap, and as much as I would like to catch you up on your history, I have an appointment with a passenger of yours."


"What have you with my crew?" Scipio demanded and Sparthios wagged a finger her direction.


"Tut, tut, the man is not part of your crew. In fact, I believe he is urinating in a corridor three decks down."


"He is under my protection.." Scipio started but as Sparthios faded away he chided, "Please, dear. No idle threats. What could you possibly do to me?"

Feeling much relieved and not a bit self-conscious at not having washed my hands, I began to explore the ship and I realized, before long, that something was very wrong. There was simply nobody anywhere!


There was the slight hum of vibrating bulkheads, common when starships were in close proximity to a planetary atmosphere.


But this was no ordinary planet.


This was Sparthios.


In the old writings of Sephis' religious past, after Empion rose from the dead after his execution on the Ganymede Truss, he spent a little time among his disciples before fading away. The Church of Empion that rose to prominence after he had vanished had named Sparthios, that point of light in the sky which was later found out to be a planet, as the home of Empion.


In those old writings, associations with Sparthios were generally positive. Until an old Caprician book was found that also spoke of Sparthios. Needless to say, it caused quite a ruckuss with the more conservative elements of religion. Here they were, dumbasses all, worshipping this guy, Empion, who made Sparthios his home, only to find that Sparthios was also a figure in ancient Caprician literature who was not only associated with the interests of Capricians but also answered to something obviously larger, Omnae. Whatever or whoever that was!


It pushed our religious fervor down a few notches and then came the play. A play that posited that Empion and Sparthios were two homosexual lovers and then all hell broke loose.


Bombings here and there.


Drum beating.


Breast beating.


Claims and counter claims.


Sephis survived. A lot of people did not.


Eventually, my world became more and more secular though there were those that still believed in the more conservative elements of the old Empion religion. The story of that girl peddling religion was one example. Still, today's incarnation of what passes as conservative religion would probably have shocked their earlier counterparts.


There was always the old staple where men could not fuck men but, did the current incarnation of the conservative religious ever think about that other old staple of men being unable to fuck women they were not married too?


Of course not!


Nowadays people pretty much fuck whoever they want. Kids are no longer taught not to do something their elders obviously couldn't do but, rather, it became a forgone conclusion that if their elders couldn't keep their pants zipped up, who could they expect the kids to do so and so their elders tried to ensure the least amount of accountability.


Shit, I doubt fucking outside of marriage is even considered a sin anymore.


So, if that is the case, why are the conservatives of today dicking around pretending to have an aversion to homosexuality?


Apparently, rather than taking the few seconds to realize that such a position could never last (look at what happened to sex outside of marriage!), they water down their faith with compromise. If current social trends accept sex outside of marriage, well fuck! God must too!


Just you wait, homosexuality! Social acceptance (and thus God's acceptance!) is coming!


Anyway, with all this 'progressive' shit going on, secular Sephis did not know what to make of Sparthios.


The home of Empion seemed to be a tangible world and since atheists and secularists piss themselves with giddy excitement whenever the chance to take a shit all over the beliefs of the religious arises, we, in grand fashion, sent ships to Sparthios.


Then. THEN! We would have proof that Sparthios was just another world.


If it was the home of Empion, they would undoubtedly drag him back to our little fucked up world strung up by his nails if need be!


The religious were aghast at the effrontery and there was much fanatical violence at the time.


Imagine everyone's surprise when Sparthios shat into everyone's lap when we lost contact with those ships.


To this date, no ship traveling to Sparthios ever came back. No transmission was ever received from the ships that made their way there and no bit of scanning ever revealed their fate.


So, I'll tell you want happened to them.


All the fucking people disappeared from their damned ship!




I am growing more annoyed than anything as I make my way around this Caprician ship....nevermind it is an Imperial design.


A person might try to make shit over the fact that here was a democratic government making use of an Imperial design as if doing so made the democratic government the bedmate of old Emperor Palpatine. I mean, shit! If the Imperials designed the condom, did that mean every child who practiced safe sex was a fucking Imperial sympathizer?


According to some shit I see that comes over the bandwaves, probably so!


It seems that the progressive agenda is to wipe away as much accountability as possible. Oh no, Mr. rapist murderer. It's not your fault. It's the fault of your parents for beating the shit out of you when you were little.

I mean what the fuck?


Some of those little snots need the shit beaten out of them!




*


"Cosmic thoughts?" intruded a voice.


"Fuck off!" I barked, clearly annoyed by the things that were rattling around in my head. The last thing I needed was some other fucking annoying thing intruding. Of course, that might explain why I was not married but I was not in the mood for a "Why I am not married" introspective.


"Looking for something?"


The voice sounded really close and as I turned from a view port staring at the mass clouds of nothing surrounding the ship, I noticed a man standing in the middle of the corridor.


He was tall, thin, long blond hair... you know, the good looking kind of fucker that all regular people hate. I know I hated him. Probably make a girl wet herself with one of his devil-may-care shady grins.


"Silvest," he opened his mouth to talk but I was having none of it.


"What the fuck do you want?"


I may not have his good looks but I definitely was not going to go female on him and lose my wits!


"Why did you stab yourself with a stylus?" he asked and I was instantly afraid.


Anyone who casually intrudes upon your most secret of secrets without so much as a forewarning so you could prepare a plethora of denials demanded a goodly amount of fear.


While stabbing myself with a stylus may not have been my most secret of secrets, the public embarrassment of the situation would have been such that I chose to hide that memory in the same room along with all of my most secrets of secrets.


The fact that he could get into that room was cause for much concern indeed!


"Maybe I wanted to know what it felt like!" I snapped back. I was impressed with my off-the-cuff comeback that seemed to flow out of my mouth as natural as smoke to a smoker.


"You are a very disagreeable man," the other said and I sneered, "What do you know?"


"You are a modest reporter of what passes for news on your world. You hate your world, your society, yourself, and most of all, your parents who disappeared on a ship sent to visit me."


Each word seemed like a baster shot piercing my body burning through my soul. Well, maybe not quite that bad but it still seemed like a feeling of walking around naked in public without realizing you are naked until someone points and giggles.


But what the man said was true about my parents. I wanted to haul off and hit him until his words replayed in my mind once more and I realized just what he said.



"Sent to visit you? You're Sparthios." I did not frame that last part as a question.


Spartios bowed as if he were a character from antiquity. "Guilty as charged," he grinned.


I did not wet myself but my heart did flutter. Stang, this guy was good looking!


"So, you going to kill us like you killed everyone else that tried to visit you?" Now that was a question! As much as this guy stirred up strange emotions from both past and present, it was not enough to overwhelm my good sense of self-preservation.



"My dear man, what a dreadful thought! Of course not!" Then he paused, "At least I don't think I will."


That last part was not, I must say, very faith strengthening about my chances for the future.


Speaking of faith, my eyes began to narrow.


"You know, Empion died for our sins and only had our best interests at heart," I interjected into the uncomfortable silence that followed.


Sparthios grinned again and it was infectious. I felt a grin tugging at the corners of my mouth.


"What makes you think your perception of me is correct?"



And there was the bitter seed to this fruit. What indeed?


The residents of my secular society looked at their collective religious beliefs of the past and seemed to, with each passing generation, revise them to their liking. Take the whole sex outside of marriage thing. It was prohibited back before the first computer was a gigabyte in it's creator's eye and, for the longest time, the words of the Book of Empion was law. And, you know what? People seemed to be able to follow it! Granted there were all sorts of punishment if one did not as added incentive but, by and large, it was followed!


The current residents of my secular society, for whatever reason, felt they could not follow that prohibition. We all knew that the real reason was they just did not want to follow it. And they maintained their piety over generations of loosened strictures utilizing the idea that if God, or Empion (if you will), loved them then he would forgive them their trespasses even as they ran to commit the next trespass. They effectively removed the guilt and thereby the accountability.


It was a cute solution to the 'religious problem vs. carnal desires' but we are a resourceful, clever and slick bunch.


But, whereever did we get the idea that such justifications that ran through our minds to assuage our guilt would hold weight with God himself? With Empion or .. Sparthios as he seems to be named?


So, in lying to ourselves, we ended up believing the lie. With God around to call foul, then, what the fuck? Why wouldn't we believe the lie?


There!


You see what I did?


I even blamed why we believe the lie on God! I got this whole avoidance of accountability down pat!


I wasn't going down without a fight!


"The fact that you did not correct us!" I shot back, grinning just to spite him.


Sparthios was not without his own defenses.


"Since I do not need to validate my existence with your perception, what you end up perceiving is of no consequence to me. Only to you. For you see, I do exist and you are affected. So, while you may blame me for all your little world-views that come crashing down around you, it does not change the fact that they will be coming down.

Your world is going to die."


The fact that the world is going to end was always in the back of my mind. Even our own society came to that conclusion if one simply read the fiction (shit! even the non-fiction) of our world. We are all shitheads waiting to be flushed out of this cosmic toilet.


But hearing it from the lips of this grinning fucker made me mad. I don't know why but it just did.


"We all die," I snorted out as if I had balls the size of giant melons. "It's not like you gave a shit before, why should you now?"


Sparthios just shook his head, not in disappointment really but... pity. "You are a disagreeable man."


I wanted to shout in triumph when the man, Sparthios, simply shrugged his shoulders. "Ok then. Die."


He started to turn around as if to walk back to whereever he had come from when panic overtook me. A real fear that this grinning fool really did know what he was talking about.


It is funny. Our cultural holovids will play out stories of God's angels coming down from wherever it is they come from intent on saving some pregnant teenager from god's wrath because her little bun-in-the-oven is supposed to somehow save everyone. They never really explain how.

The last savior was nailed to the Ganymede Truss by the people so what these story-tellers expect a second one to accomplish is beyond me. But some people lap this drivel up like it was laced with spice.

Anyway, these story teller never quite indicate how this one rebel angel can take on all of God's forces in protection of some stupid knocked-up wench's unborn baby. For all we know, it could be retarded.


What this illustrates to me is that we give God absolutely no respect.


Why the fuck do I care?


Did I mention that he said, 'Ok, fine. Die'??


Could the man be bluffing? Possibly.


But consider this: The facts are, anyone and everyone who has tried to come to this world has never been seen or heard from again. We presumed them dead and had a healthy, if waining, fear of this place (and now person).


It's like forgetting what fire did to your hand when you put it in. We stupidly stick it back in.


"Don't you care?" I pleaded.


He looked back, sardonically, "Don't you?"


I had nothing to come back with, damn the man!


He folded his arms and leaned against the bulkhead, "Why should I give effort to save you when you are unwilling to save yourselves? You are like the man that prays for his clothes to remain clean and then goes rolling around in the mud."


"But it is said that you love us." I countered weakly.


"So do men to their wives. And yet they still cheat on them or divorce them. Oh, I'll be sad for a little while that you're gone but my affection is not going to save you if you do not give a damn about being saved."


"But you are better than us."


"Yes, I am. But that does not mean I am going to be a sucker of poor manipulation by a people that couldn't give a damn about the consequences of their actions. You may have avoided immediate accountability but accountability does not go away. It's just been stacking up, like debt, and now... now you will feel the effects."


I got mad, "Then why don't you just kill me like you did my parents!"


"First, your parents are alive and well. Second, when I said your world would die, I did not mean by me."


This was turning out to be a very emotional visit. I am pretty glad that he made the crew vanish because I don't think I could have held my head up high among them after this had he not.


"My parents are alive?"


"Of course."


"Then where are they?" I demand.


"On my world." Sparthios simply states.


"Prisoners?"


"You might say they are in protective custody."


"Perhaps I should break them out?"


"If they wanted to leave, perhaps you might."


I tired of the game and simply sat down on the starship floor. The floor was cold and hard. Just like life, I suppose.


I only had one question left in my arsenal and it was not barbed. It was actually quite desperate.


"Why?"



Sparthios sighed and sat down next to me. "On your world, what would you do if you saw a woman being mugged and she was screaming for help? Say she saw you walking by and shouted for help?"


"I might continue to walk by.." I said truthfully.


"Why?"


"Because you stick your nose in other people's business, that business has a way of showing up on your doorstep the next day." It was true.


"Well, every time some yahoo comes to my world, I am faced with a dilema. My construction involves a level of understanding beyond the current galactic techological plane. Suffice to say, that I can tap those understandings to observe the results of their interactions."


"What?"


"I can see the future."


Before I could reply, the good looking man continued, "It is not something I dwell on personally but I have found that with those who visit me, it becomes something of an annoyance. It seems the future is something of a worry with everyone else in the galaxy. And with that knowledge, I've seen from the most earliest of visits that you people tend not to take any satisfaction but, rather, work to change the future."


"Was the future dire?"


"Of course, it's dire. Your cultures are relatively young, bouncing around from here to there never their minds on where they are! What they are doing!"


It was obvious that Sparthios was channeling someone but I did not recognize who.


"What is wrong with trying to change the future?" I asked. "Especially if it is dire?"


Sparthios shrugged. "Nothing at all. Just like nothing would be wrong with you interfering with a woman being mugged. However, the moment you do interfere, you become a focal point of interaction. Despite your good intentions, you become a part in a situation you were only, moments before, observing.


So, your parents came, I appeared, I showed them the direness of their situation and what would happen if they made choices to alter that dire future. I also showed them what would happen to them after their choices were made. Or, rather, what would happen to you after they acted and returned."


"So, you're saying that as fucked up as my life has been this whole time, it could have been worse? And it would have been worse had my parents come back to me? So they went where?"


"Unfortunately, if your parents went to other worlds the accountability of their actions would have followed them. The universe does not let go easily when you start tampering with those aspects of mother nature she does not like you tampering with.

However, it just so happens that the world you named, Spartios, my world, lies outside the universe's reach. They are living here and they are happy."


"Well they couldn't have done much if the future of my world is still dire," I hated to take a dump on my parents memory but hey, my life was hanging in the balance here.


"You think it is a matter of the scale of action taken to remove the dire threat? My good man, there are multiple threats from multiple actions that effect a multitude of other situations. The actions of your parents alleviated one threat only to ensure that you are here now, to deal with another. They did not know it would be you but you will appreciate that this situation does give one a sense of awe. The universe works in mysterious ways."


"So, what is this dire situation?"


"I told you. Your world is going to die."


"When?"


"Oh, quite soon. Within the decade, give or take."


"So, what do I have to decide? How do I alter this dire future?"


Sparthios stood up and, with a hand, helped me up. "Well... You need to figure out if you want the Capricians dead or not."


Whatever I was thinking, it was not that!


"WHAT?"


"Do you know what would happen if these Capricians returned to your world? They would be the first to ever visit Sparthios and return to tell the tale. It would be a sign and it would make quite an impression on your world. Quite an impression."


One did not need to be a magic man to realize that though my thoughts had to be pointed in the right direction.


"Shit. They would join this Commonwealth for sure."


"That they would. Obviously, I would have to become a more extroverted entity where these Capricians were concerned but that is besides the point."


"Does joining these Capricians bring a dire future to my world?"


"Of course! Their problems will become your problems. Your world will die."


"So, how do I avoid this dire future?"


"Quite simply, you tell me to kill these Capricians."


"Kill them? Aren't you a part of their history or something? Did they make you?"


Sparthios grinned, "I would like them to produce the bill of sale?"


"What about me?" Let's face it. This was foremost on my mind.


"Well, if the Capricians are dead, they cannot take you back to your world. So, you get to stay here, meet your parents and live happily ever after."


I paused. My parents! They'd been dead in my mind for so long, would I recognize them? Hell, would they recognize me?


Kill all the Capricians and my world would not die!


I rubbed my hands together and I turned a sly eye towards Sparthios.

"So you chose to save our lives?" Scipio asked their passenger, Silvest. The tale the Sephis resident spun was so wild that within it's structure, there was a ring of truth. The Ressario has lost power and was held at the mercy of the entity calling itself Sparthios.

And this entity had singled out Silvest for something.

The tale of the imminent death of Sephis and the choice for Silvest to make was also outside the realms of imagination for this news reporter. Or was it?


"We are greatful, of course," Herridian quickly interjected at the affronted look Silvest gave Scipio. "It is just the choice itself. Spartios obviously represents a power that is well above our own technical level. It is, I must say, reasonable to expect that if you do associate your world with the Commonwealth, it does open you up to dangers. Our problems will be your problems."


Silvest for his point stared at the portly Caprician. "You are much too honest for your own good, you know that?"


The Sephis man shrugged, "Perhaps I just hated to see such a pretty face killed by some superman."


"I am sure Achinta Vega appreciates that," Herridian quickly added before a reddening Scipio could respond.


The Caprician scientist pressed, "I still don't see.."


Silvest exhaled loudly and sat down at an empty terminal without asking, "Look. The tricks of God never change. Now, whether or not anyone really acknowledges whether Sparthios is God or a god or not is immaterial. He represents something, as you say, is much more powerful than any of us or any government (or in my case a loose association of like minded cretins) that may back us.


If every ship from Sephis that ever visited Spartios was given the same choice, and none of them ever came back, then it is safe to assume that these people, my parents included, chose to 'save' Sephis by chosing to go into voluntary exile all the while salving their conscience with the thought that they did good by me and all the inhabitants of my world."


Silvest leaned forward, a gleam in his eye, "What they also ensured was that they did not have to live with the results of their decision on our world. They chose their eden exile. Their happily ever after.


Now, here's the dose of reality. Life on my world is no picnic. So, all these crews thinking they were doing us a favor by keeping our shitty world alive longer, stretching out the horrors of our existence. Every one of us would grab at the chance to get away!


Sparthios gave them that chance and they took it!"


Scipio's eyes narrowed, "So why didn't you?"


Silvest sneered, "You don't live on Sephis. It is a galactic shithole! Obviously choosing life like all the other people who visited Sparthios before didn't do a hell of a lot for our world. So, given that, I thought, 'what the fuck?'. Our shitty world needs to die!

And if association with the Commonwealth's problems brings that about, why not?

You see, in godlike fashion, this Sparthios... Empion as my world calls him, never really defined what he meant by 'world' and 'die'. Did he mean that the planet would blow up? Did he mean that what passes for society on my world would die to be replaced by the Commonwealth's?

Fuck if I know.

But then I figured, the Commonwealth couldn't do a whole hell of a lot worse now could they?"


"You place quite a bit of faith in us, didn't you?" Herridian remarked and Silvest grinned.


"Not really. Sparthios said it himself. If I chose the Commonwealth, he would have to become more extroverted. That tells me he has something of a vested interest in Sephis. What? I haven't the foggiest. But I leave that to you experts. I am sure you'll figure it out."