Yue

 Ways and Means

24th January

11:12 GMT

I take a look around Barnard's Star System. Not a great deal here, to be honest. One tiny red dwarf only a little larger than Jupiter, and one frozen dustbowl of a super-Earth. I haven't actually bothered coming here before precisely because there's nothing interesting here. And I'm reasonably confident that humans in general won't ever do anything with the place. By the time we get good enough faster than light travel to actually go anywhere, we'll have far better options than this.

Thanks to my rings I'm perfectly aware that there are examples of successfully colonised super-Earths… But that one doesn't have the sort of mineral resources that would make overcoming a surface temperature 150 below zero worthwhile. There are.. some volatile elements down there, but nothing that would make a convenient fuel. And forget solar power; Barnard's Star is the fourth closest star to Earth and it's still so dim as to be invisible to the naked eye. Colonising some of the Sol System's moons would be easier. An artificial habitat would be more useful. This is just.. kind of.. here.

"So? How are you enjoying freedom?"

As far as I can read his expression, my companion isn't any more impressed by the place than I am.

"Very little."

Yeah, I suppose…

Lantern Xor accelerates, flying down towards the impression in the ice left by the crashing of the ship which brought him to this region of space in the first place. I'm really.. not sure where they were going. His species lives quite a way further towards the galactic rim, on the Perseus Arm. We're on a rough line between where they're from to a number of places, but it's still quite a long way to cart a bunch of prisoners.

"Alright. What did you think of the court process?"

"It was inefficient. I was in prison for a quarter year while they investigated events whose cause was readily apparent."

"Oh, come on. I saw where you were living. That was hardly a prison."

He turns his head to glower at me for a moment. "A pretty prison is still a prison."

I suppose for someone as honour-focused as him, the slight caused by what must have felt suspiciously like a presumption of guilt would have been objectionable enough that it spoiled the positive aspects for him.

"Did you learn anything?"

"Yes." He comes to a stop about forty metres above the ground. Whatever surface water was melted has long since refrozen, though with no precipitation the larger parts of the wreckage are still exposed. "I do not like being punished for things that I have not done. It does not matter to me whether those punishing me believe that I have done it or not."

"I was hoping for something a little more profound. Have you developed an opinion on how a judicial system should work?"

He huffs. "What is there to say? A liar can lie in a heartbeat. Or take many days to say nothing, and force others to wait for them." He raises his right hand. "Can this ring make people honourable? Can it make their codes make sense?"

"The ring can do anything you want. But before you act, you should understand what you are asking."

He scowls, but he isn't scowling at me. He's scowling at the stupid, over-complicated universe he's forced to live in.

"I am honourable. I know I am honourable. When I do wrong as I know wrong I accept punishment. I exchange guilt for service or for pain. But I have behaved honourably, I have obeyed your people's law-rules and still your people say I am bad."

"You know that it's not that simple."

He takes a newspaper out of subspace and throws it at me. "See what they say!"

I catch it in a construct and take a look at the cover. Hm. The Patriot. An article covering his absolute discharge. It's… Well, it's slanted, which is to be expected given its target audience and the fact that most of the people he killed or crippled were from the area. But I can't see any factual inaccuracies.

"Yes? You did.. kill quite a few people. You can't really expect their community to be happy about that."

"They should have trained them to have better morals. I was force-educated to be a weapon and I would not attack someone who was not an enemy soldier."

"So is that the take-away? Do you want to take that approach, teach people the virtue of personal responsibility?"

"No." He wiggles his head. "Yes. I don’t know. No."

"Xor, you've had four months to think about it."

"It is difficult."

"Xor, I'm your instructor. If you need help learning something, talk to me. Tell me what it is."

He doesn't reply. Instead, he thrusts his left hand forwards and scans the wreckage.

Okay… "Question for you. You have a house. The house is on fire. The house contains every object that you value." He grunts quietly in acknowledgement as the ice vanishes. "You have time to remove one thing from the house before it and everything left in it is destroyed by the fire. What do you remove?"

"Are things that have been destroyed in the house?"

"Yes."

"My armour, from when I was a Warhound. Normal fire would not harm it, but this fire is made of philosophy."

"It's the most dangerous kind."

I wait a moment. John checked this ship out not long after it crashed here. No survivors, but there are bodies down there. Xor was confident that all of the crew got out and he was the last prisoner to evacuate, so I'm working on the assumption that whatever killed them was the thing which triggered the evacuation in the first place.

"Interesting choice. Why the armour?"

"My armour was personal. Its scars, my history. It means more than any weapon, and is more useful than any other memento."

"Why the armour… And not the fire?"

His excavation beam blinks out. "What?"

"Why not the fire?"

"You said I could take out one valuable object. I do not value fire."

"No, I said that you could take one thing. The fire was in the house. Xor, I think we need to-."

"Incoming ship detected."

Xor and I both turn to look upwards. Not that we can see it from here, but I suppose some instincts are ingrained. Ring-scans show the ship to be an Ungaran… Looks like an old ore-hauler. Odd place for it to come-.

There's an explosion, and the ship jolts in space.

And I'm mildly pleased that Xor is accelerating upwards without needing me to order him to. But I still arrive first as I transition to the ship. An orange construct patch over the hole will prevent further atmosphere loss…

"Orange Lantern to ship-."

Another part of the hull blisters and explodes, a red figure drifting out of the resulting hole. Male humanoid, a white theatrical mask covering his face, his hair appearing to be made out of fire and his arms looking like claws made of flames.

"Who are you and what-?"

"This is my ship, I found it, it's mine. Get lost."

"Either you can explain yourself better than that, or-."

The figure extends their right hand towards the ship, space… Wavering as its hull begins to fall apart where it's pointing. At least seven members of the crew are still on board.

"You're-"

My destructive pulse hits the figure in the chest and knocks it away from the ship.

"-under arrest."

He rallies, apparently unhurt. "Like fuck I am."