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New Terra. The crown jewel of human colonization.

As his shuttle descended, Thaddeus couldn't help but be in awe of the magnificent cityscape. In some ways, returning to New Terra was an adventure for the Captain. Technically speaking, the Terran capital was his home, but it felt almost as though his home was everywhere else. Off in the distance. Among the stars.

New Terra was a city under construction. No world had been spared from the carnage of the Terra-Martian War, least of all the Terran capital. When the rebel colonies banded together to form the Martian Legion, New Terra was a major target. Thaddeus could understand why. The disproportionate resources dedicated to New Terra certainly help make the planet a wonder to behold. A true human marvel. But it was unsurprising that more distant colonies harbored resentment.

Thaddeus himself was a builder of sorts, a bridge-maker, helping to forge a bridge between the Terran Republic and Martian Legion. The War had ended ten years ago, but there was still work to be done. Thaddeus was prepared for the next stage of the project. He was prepared for the future. In truth, he was an architect of the future. He always had been.

The veteran Captain made his way through the city towards the central plaza, site of Republic capital building. His destination was near the top floor. As Thaddeus stepped inside an elevator he noticed a Republic ensign already standing there, no doubt running some tedious errand for one of the higher ranking government officers. The ensign was exhausted, but upon seeing Thaddeus he immediately adjusted his posture, standing at sharp attention for the duration of the silent elevator ride.

Rather awkward.

The ensign was relieved when Thaddeus finally arrived on his floor. As the Captain exited the elevator he could see the ensign relax again out of the corner of his eye. Thaddeus reached his destination, the Admiral's office.

"Well I'll be damned. Captain Thaddeus Antares."

The Admiral extended his hand, and Thaddeus accepted. It had been some time.

"'The Negotiator,' that's what some are calling you now. 'The Peace-Maker,' 'The Architect of Tomorrow.'"

"I still prefer Captain," replied Antares.

"I know you do," said the Admiral, as he began rummaging around his desk. "After the treaty was signed they offered you a position in the Terran High Command, but you declined. Something about scientific exploration being more important than politics."

"Something like that. Maybe I knew they'd turn around and give the position to you." Antares laughed. "Admiral Donnelly. Sounds pretty good, though it's lacking that alliterative flair. Perhaps they should've named you Director instead."

"Fuck off Antares."

Donnelly produced two glasses from his desk, along with a half-filled bottle of Irish whiskey. A favorite from their time in the War.

"You really do believe in it, don't you?" asked the Admiral as he began to pour. "The Alliance?"

"I helped found the Alliance Intiative," said Thaddeus. "At this point I'm just trying to protect my own personal reputation."

"I'm serious."

"You've known me long enough to understand my perspective, Donnelly. You served with me in the War. You saw what a nightmare it was. We can't go back to that. We've come too far as a species."

"War is human nature, Thaddeus."

"Curiosity is human nature. Exploration is human nature. Science is human nature."

"Of course. The Antares manifesto."

"The Alliance will help to inspire the scientific discoveries of tomorrow. We can't afford to fight amongst ourselves. We have work to do out there. A lot of fucking work to do. How's that for a manifesto?"

"You have work to do out there, Antares. The USS Hawking is ready to depart. Your tomorrow is almost here. The new Alliance flagship, a unified Starfleet under your vision," the Admiral paused and chose his next words carefully.

"Don't fuck it up."

He handed Antares a glass of whiskey, the Captain was one of the few who could keep up with Donnelly in this particular department.

"I've looked over your recommendations for senior officers. Your bridge crew has been approved."

"I personally vetted the candidates myself. I didn't realize that they were merely recomendations. And that they were subject to your approval, of all people."

"The Terran Republic still maintains some oversight with respect to the Alliance, Captain. And I do, in fact, outrank you. But that was your decision, not mine."

"Well I'm not in the business of making bad decisions, Admiral."

"Your choice of First Officer was rather curious though. Commander Roger River, Martian Legion. Ex-military. A bit rough around the edges. I supposed you meant it as a sign of good faith to our Martian allies that one of their own take on such a high rank. But if I were you, I'd still watch him carefully."

"Let's just say I'm hoping for the best, but prepared for... the alternative."

"I'll drink to that, Captain." Donnelly raised a glass. "And to your good health."

Thaddeus nodded, raising his own glass.

"To the unknown."

Thaddeus tossed back the whiskey in one gulp. He certainly had his fair share of experience from the War, but it had been awhile since then. He had nearly forgotten the burn of Old Terran alcohol.

Nearly.

"Old Terra's finest," said Donnelly, placing down the glass. "Well Antares, the USS Hawking is docked at The Reach, our deep space station. She's undergoing some final touches, but all should be well upon your arrival."

"The space station, or the ship?"

"Both," the Admiral replied. "I've already taken the liberty of notifying your senior officers. The bridge crew will rendezvous with you at The Reach. From there you can depart. Good luck on the frontier, Thaddeus. I know you've been waiting for this."

"I don't need your luck, Admiral. But I'll take another bottle of that Old Terran, should you be willing to part with it."

Jianhong’s eyes closed as his transport had sped through space, ignoring the conversations of the other Republic members he shared the ship with. Exhaling a brief sigh, he had needed this assignment to get away. With his sister gone and now both of his parents, there wasn’t anything that held him back to New Terra or Old Terra. While he did enjoy the classroom molding young mind for the new age, it wasn’t for him anymore. The satisfaction was gone and yearned for the openness of space once again. Maybe it was him getting old and wanting to feel young, he didn’t know but he had to get on a ship again.

Once Jianhong transport had started slowing down his eyes had opened revealing the USS Hawking, the ship that was to be his to maintain. In truth he didn’t know why he Captain Antares had chosen him for such a venture, considering almost half of his career with the Republic was in the classroom. He looked out through the visor at the ship, the Hawking was a marvel to behold. He was in a better mindset now as the crew member disembarked, being the last to leave the transport ship.

”Andrei it has been quite some time. I’m to assume that you’re assigned to the Hawking .” Andrei Ilyich had been one of his prodigal students in the classroom that Jianhong had bonded with and fewer yet that he’d kept in touch with.

“You’re correct professor or should I call you chief now.” Walking in tow with Jianhong, Andrei handing Jianhong the tablet-like device so he could see the USS Hawking specifications

”Hong will do Andrei, both make me feel older than I feel.” Everything had seemed to be in order. Reactor cores showing steady readings for the past twelve hours, all systems were green and performing superbly according to his strict standards. Handing the device back, to his second.” Start archiving reactor levels in thirty-minute intervals, along with a complete system and diagnostic check on the hour. After you get settled of course.”

“Of course Hong. And perhaps some of that rice win you covet later.” Andrei remarked, remember the celebration of his academic success completing Jianhong rigorous class.

“When there is a reason to celebrate Engineer Ilyich.” Jianhong very direct in his statement as they crossed the threshold in the Hawking.

“Of course Hong.” Andrei left Hong to continue on his own reports and to let his old teacher get acquainted with the ship.

Standing before the reactors, glowing dim blue as the thrummed with power. Going over last inspections logs of the cores. Again everything was perfect. Just peering at the new reactor cores, this was what he needed.

”My friends it has been too long.” Walking off to his quarters where he trusted his belongings had been forwarded to.

Roger stared out a window leading to the black void of space. he was in a space station which housed hundreds of starships, Both Terran and martian, around him were faces both new and old, faces of the Terran's he tried to kill and Martians he killed for. he uncapped a flask of whisky, taking a long gulp of it. He blinked and for a brief moment, he was in a city torn by warfare, soldier's in blue killed soldier's in red, each one screaming they killed or were killed. laser's flew by and men lived and died, Then Roger opened his eyes, the he was in a station, below him was a city recovering from it's wounds, around him the soldier's lived in peace, the scream's of war were replaced with a incessant pretentious smalltalk.

Everytime he closed his eyes, he saw that scene again, that bloodbath. But it didn't shock or scare him, it felt familiar and natural to him. 45 years. Roger remarked in his mind, 45 year's of that bullshit. Roger hated war, yet war loved him. from the time of Roger's birth to this exact moment, Roger was locked in endless war. But now life was different, now Terrans and a Martians intermingled. it was a ugly sight, the Terran's were enemies, yet now he had to treat them like common friends. It was confusing and strange to Roger, he hated peace. in war he had a purpose, but now he felt like a candle in the wind. War was his friend, war was his occupation, war was Roger's life.

Roger took another gulp of whisky. He needed it. The flask was Roger's friend, though it was a silver grey, the middle of it was sprayed in a ashy black, caused by a laser fire. He used to drink water from it, it saved his life in the war, during a firefight it stopped a laser from incinerating his leg. one inch to the right and Roger would not be standing here. though the flask used to hold water, now since war was gone and peace was here, it held whisky. in this time of peace, Roger spent hours upon hours doing nothing, what else could he do but drink?.