Meltdown Ophilion - Book One

33_INSIGHT II

The boy's face lit up with awe.

"The Henosis is about four hundred times the size of the Antarious. It's our mother ship; the main station for this quadrant of the galaxy."

"With this much power..." Orion shook his head in disbelief "...you could make them listen; I mean, if it was for their own good. The rulers in Kypro, who are planning the weapons test..." He looked up at Miguel, "you could make them stop it; you could make them do whatever you wanted. They couldn't withstand this kind of technology, there's no way!"

Miguel nodded and smiled sympathetically. "If we used force to override their decisions, even terrible ones, the balance would be broken in another direction. We would be tyrants, overriding the will of your people, and at the first available opportunity they would do what they were planning in the first place. We won't be on Ophilion forever, Orion – your people must take their course." Kylor supported his commander with an affirmative nod.

"But," Miguel presented another facet of their modus operandi, "we are permitted to use force to save and protect the individuals who accept our offer – and that's where you come in. I won't say more about this now, but time is ticking. If the rulers of your planet keep their agenda, as we predict, your mission will begin as soon as your training ends." Miguel breathed deeply and exhaled. He seemed to be reminiscing on his past. "In any case, Ophilion will likely never be the same; I've seen this happen on other worlds."

Orion knitted his brow. "What about our families?" he asked, turning to the display of the Henosis.

"Your families," Kylor answered. Whenever the Meloria spoke – which was less often than the human Almaron – they projected a kind of surreal confidence and modesty – a combination which was both reassuring and very odd. "We know them; agents are monitoring them, and we think they will make the right choice and leave Kypro if the time comes; and I think you will be very convincing," he smiled.

"So... the people who don't leave?"

Miguel and Kylor looked at each other, exchanging ideas through telepathy. "We've been involved in similar situations, Orion," Miguel said quietly, "I won't lie to you; there has never been one in which everyone made the right choice. There is, however, a chance that all of this might be avoided if your rulers change their minds, but," he shrugged, "they are intent on taking control of your neighboring planet, and the weapons test here in the belt is the only thing that stands in their way."

"And, there's the Baccaran," Kylor said; and for the first time Orion noticed a tinge of disdain in the alien's voice. "If they had not come to this world everything would be different; it would be easier to influence your leaders."

Miguel nodded ruefully. "But this is not in our power to control. The Baccaran, too, are free entities. The point is that everyone has a choice, and you will probably see for yourself what that means in an endgame scenario. Choices..." Miguel turned his attention back to the hologram. "...even the smallest ones, can have extreme consequences when the situation is crucial." He pressed a few buttons and a bird's eye view of Kypro replaced the Henosis.

"You make choices every day that seem insignificant: the time you leave your apartment in the morning, what you eat for lunch, how you spend your leisure time, which street to walk down – nothing of great consequence – until..." The Almaron zoomed in on the Nardius-3 district. Orion watched. He knew the shape of the streets, the bend in the river. This place had been his home for the last five years. "...until there is a crucial juncture: a vehicle malfunctions; you are the one who gets some of the poisoned pintelo sauce; the Qonaar decide to raid the spin-house you are in and you find yourself thinking: 'what if?'