The Broken Peace

The evening sun began to set across the waters on Pax Oceana. Beachgoers began to pack their belongings and head back home. Some stayed to patronize the local clubs. Hathcox listened as music from the club to his left filled the air. The crowd joined in on a familiar chorus while the band played.

He arrived an hour before sunset, intending to make his way to a club near the beach for a drink. Instead, he stood and watched as the sun began shrinking from the horizon. For reasons he couldn't explain, he preferred it this way. Watching the beauty of the sunset from the beach filled him with wonder. The same wonder he first felt when he began his journey through the stars years ago.

"I thought I might find you here."

"Captain Baeder."

"Captain, so formal. Here I brought you a drink. I know it's not your usual beer, but it's the best I can do."

"How've you been, Lon? It's been a while."

"I do apologize, George. I ran into a few problems with a shipment on Thassara. It's a nasty business, this war. It makes it hard to eke out a living. How've you been?"

"Good, good. Enjoying the rest for once."

"Well, you look like you've gotten a little sun. Are the accommodations I arranged for you still to your liking?"

"Yes, they're fine."

"What's wrong, George?"

"I was standing here thinking about the last time I had my feet on solid ground. I'd forgotten what it felt like to have the sand at my feet or the feeling of ocean water. I've seen hundreds of new worlds, but I never took the time to visit them myself. I was so busy trying to find the next great world that I forgot to take time and enjoy the ones I did find. Do you understand what I mean?"

"I think I do, George."

"I like it here, Lon. I don't know how I'll do it, but I'd like to stay."

"George, what if I could make that happen?"

"What?"

"Now, hear me out. Pax Oceana is an open planet. There are no strategic bases or resources here. It's a haven when you think about it. A place to trade information, resources, anything."

"What are you asking, Lon?"

"The galaxy thinks you're dead. There's an opportunity for a man of your skill and my daring. I need someone here to arrange my adventures for me."

"You want me to work for you? To be the middleman for your smuggling operations?"

"Why not? You know the space lanes and unknown places as well as anyone. Not to mention I'll need a new base of operations."

"Aren't you afraid the Spartiartes are looking for you out there?"

"The Spartiartes? No, they have bigger problems than me. I wouldn't worry about any Spartiartes intervention. Besides, the people we'd work for want to stay out of the war."

"So I'd be your employee?"

"My partner."

"What about Melinda?"

"What about her?"

"I don't think she'll approve."

"Don't worry about her. My wife is difficult to get along with, but she understands business. She'll come around to the idea sooner or later. So what do you say?"

"I don't know, Lon."

"Come on, George, I need you. Together, we'll make enough profits to retire twice over."

"Sure, why not? I could use some profits."

"That's the spirit, George. I told you we'd work well together. Come on, let me buy you a drink."

"A seafood dinner would be better."

"Certainly, I know just the place."

"You really think this venture will work?"

"Stick with me, George. An entire galaxy of possibilities awaits."