Voyage to Saga: Flights, Cameras, The Action (Part I)

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Vearden Haywood was almost completely alone. He once traveled the galaxy, completing missions, and going on adventures, with his best friend. But Saga was gone. She had sacrificed herself to save thousands of lives, and now she no longer existed. He found himself in a new reality; one in which an ally named Mateo Matic was never born, and neither was Saga. They had been battling an enemy who liked to call himself The Cleanser...or The Cleaner. Whatever it was, he was not a good person. It was he who tried to destroy The Pentagon with some kind of quantum duplication trick, but in order to achieve this, he needed to share some of his power with the two of them. Saga held onto this power, and used it against him, leaving Vearden to regret allowing it.

Vearden was able to maintain some power for a while after Saga’s disappearance, but not enough to find a way to bring her back. Once all this power had been drained from his system, he happened to be stuck in the year 2017. Not that it mattered, really, but it would have been nice to have gigabit internet. At present, he was sprawled out on the couch of a safehouse, watching trash TV, just like he was doing before he knew that time travel was real. He could hear clicking sounds on the other side of the door. Ashlock must have been trying to break in again. He said it was weird that a guy with his last name couldn’t pick a lock. Vearden didn’t really see a relevant connection. Garen Ashlock was a fellow time traveler, except instead of being beholden to the whims of the powers that be, he could choose how he used his powers. Not surprisingly, people like him were known as choosing ones. He had an interesting limitation, though. He could send someone from present day to any time and place in the future or past, and then bring them back, but was unable to travel himself. They called him The Action, but Vearden preferred Ashlock.

Fifteen minutes later, the door swung open. “I think I may have broken it,” Ashlock said apologetically.

“Whatever,” Vearden replied. “The only people I’m worried about getting in here can teleport anyway.”

Ashlock looked at the TV. “Why are you watching this crap again?”

“Well, I just finished watching LOST for the fourth time, and it was left on this channel.”

“Do you think watching your friend’s favorite show is gonna bring her back?”

“I can’t imagine it’s preventing her from coming back.”

“But it prevents you from moving on. This life is not healthy. How long has it been since the powers that be gave you a mission?”

“They keep opening portals to Stonehenge, but I think they know by now that I’ve figured out how to subvert them.”

“Well, you’re the only I’ve ever met who’s been able to do that.”

“The other salmon just aren’t working hard enough.”

“And they were never temporarily granted the temporal powers of one of the most powerful people in histories.”

“There’s that too.”

“Come on,” Ashlock said, like a worried mother. “It’s time to get out and about. I wanna send you somewhere.”

“No, thanks, I don’t feel like it.”

“I didn’t say you had a choice.”

“You didn’t say I didn’t.”

“Do you want to talk in circles?”

“Do you want to talk in circles?”

“Very funny.”

“I thought so.”

“If you don’t get up and get dressed right now, you’ll be going on the trip in your jammies.”

“It’s a robe.”

“Then I’ll send you to a transport ship in the 24th century, and you can pretend to be Arthur Dent.”

“I don’t get the reference.”

“Yes, you do, I know you do.” He waited. “Seriously, this is happening. I consider it my duty and honor to extract you from your funk.”

“Fine,” Vearden said finally. Then he got dressed.

“Bring Saga’s camera, by the way. You’re gonna want it.”

“It better be somewhere cold this time,” Vearden said from the other room as he was retrieving the camera.

Ashlock cracked his knuckles, and his neck. “Thank you for flying Ashlock Airlines. Here at Ashlock, we understand that you have a choice in transport options, and we thank you for not choosing Dave. Dave’s a dick.”

“Okay,” Vearden said dismissively.

Ashlock didn’t care. “At this time, please ensure that you have removed any citrus from your person, as it will explode during transit. If you cannot afford to leave your citrus, a napkin will not be appointed for you.”

“Could we be quite quick?”

“Your wish is my command.” He snapped his fingers, twitched his nose, then crossed his arms and bobbed his head.

“We get it,” Vearden cried. “You have superpowers, and you like TV!”

As one final flourish, Ashlock reached back and began to punch Vearden. An invisible force propelled Vearden backwards, before Ashlock’s fist could make contact, sending him to another time and place.

He was standing in a field, which was where all good stories start. At first he thought that that’s all it was, but then he turned and saw something familiar. Ashlock’s voice came to him from the aether, which was something he could do to people he’s sent somewhere. “I’m sorry. It’s for the best.”

Vearden was looking at a Stonehenge archway. But that’s all that was there. Only one archway of three stones had been built. The rest were presumably on their way. Though never this early in the timeline, he had been here before. A man called The Delegator liked to use it as his office. He would summon salmon—time travelers who had no control over their movements—to his location in order to tell them what they’re going to be doing to serve a mysterious group of people ominously called the powers that be.

“I have been waiting for you for a very long time,” the Delegator said.

“That’s BS,” Vearden argued. “You can manipulate time. I bet you just tried to take me back several times within the last five minutes, from your perspective.”

“Then correction: you have been waiting to return for a very long time.”

“Whatever,” Vearden replied, his catchphrase. “I’m not gonna fight with you about this. I think I did a pretty good job of avoiding it, but that’s over now. There’s only one archway, which means I don’t have a choice in the matter this time. Either tell me what I’m doing, or let me walk through and figure it out on my own. I’m fine either way.”

“If you had come when you were first called, you would have learned that this is a mission you might actually want.”

“I doubt it.”

“The archway will take you back to Saga.”

With no further question, Vearden started walking towards the portal.

“Wait,” the delegator stopped him desperately. “It won’t take you directly to her. You’ll have to go through a whole lot of trouble on the other side in order to find her.”

He would not be deterred. “Fine, that works for me.”

“Not so fast. Right now, she feels no pain. She feels nothing. If you do this. If you go on this...journey, you’ll be subjecting her to the pain of life. If you walk away, you’ll go back to your tighty-whities and microwave popcorn, and the powers that be will never bother you again. Hell, I’ll even throw in a one-way trip to a time and place of your choosing, at no extra charge. Walk through that portal, and the deal’s off. If you get Saga back, you’ll both start going on dangerous missions again.”

Vearden laughed. “As if that’s a real choice.” He continued towards the portal.

“Can you do that to her? Can you bring another human being into our terrible world?”

“The world is better off,” Vearden said without turning back, “with Saga Einarsson in it.” He stepped forward...and began his voyage to Saga.

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Microstory 500: Headlines (Introduction)

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It wasn’t until I was thirteen years old when I realized that I should grow up to become a fulltime writer. Before that, I was into science; specifically meteorology, biochemistry, and quantum physics. A failing grade in the middle of the year for eighth grade science class swiftly quashed that dream. Only my interest in physics has remained from all that. Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t until college that I decided to focus on science fiction, and I subsequently started shoveling as much scifi TV and movies into my brain as I could find. Before all this happened, however, I was already a writer. I just didn’t understand how powerful that aspect of me would become. I would visit my grandparents just under an hour away in Lawrence, Kansas on a regular basis. While I was there, I would walk myself down to the library, sign in to use a computer, and get to work. What would I write? Short stories? Little jokes? Fan fiction? No, my first personal experiences with writing involved little fake news stories. I would write about the world ending from the perspective of one of the last journalists. I would write about other planets, and science experiments gone wrong, and who knows what else? I remember printing them all out, but I cannot for the life of me remember what I did with them after that. I certainly don’t have access to them now. This was before flashdrives, and I don’t think those old PCs had internet access. Since then, I’ve developed a massive canon called recursiverse with hundreds of named characters having adventures and tribulations on thousands of named planets over the course of billions of years. Then there’s my salmonverse canon, the scope of which is yet to be determined. I’ve written jokes, poems, microstories, songs, short stories, fan fiction, original novels, graphic novels, television shows, and movies. I’ve planned about 70 TV series, designed to be released through the year 2066. All of eight of them are not connected to other narratives. This either sounds like I’m crazy, or trying to brag, or both. It’s both. The sad part is that there is a strong possibility that none of them will see the light of day, just like those fake news articles I wrote when I was a little tiny baby boy baby. Here’s the thing, though, these fake articles I’ll be writing for the next twenty weeks will indeed be released. I’m going to be working on this website through 2066 no matter what, and it’s going to result in at least 150 self-published books guaranteed. So do not pity me. Just sit back and supplement the onslaught of celebrity nipslips and political nightmares with a little news...from the other side. Welcome...to Headlines.

Microstory 499: Champion

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The Champion is very physically strong, and is often underestimated as nothing but a brute. He is, however, very soft-spoken and intelligent. He is skeptical of his own ability, though, and requires a lot of encouragement from others. He has no fear, and will try anything for its own sake. He will come up with many ideas during a brainstorm, and always needs someone else there to determine which ones are viable. He was bullied as a child, which caused him to overcompensate with his physique. One thing he didn’t take from his experiences is a bad attitude. It’s not that he doesn’t understand how grave the situation is, but he doesn’t see the point in dwelling over their problems, because he doesn’t think that’s going to help. He recognizes the devastation, so he doesn’t dismiss it, but he is also the first to see it as an opportunity. The galaxy has, up until that point, been massively divided. Perhaps now, they can learn to come together, and find solutions to their disagreements, so that everyone can find happiness. His primary goal in life is to work for other people. This does not mean literally, like he’s a born servant. He just feels more comfortable providing support for others, and picking up the slack when they’re drained, inadequate, or otherwise preoccupied. The Champion is always looking for the good in people, and this can sometimes get him in trouble, because if he doesn’t find it, he will fabricate it. He has an unreasonable desire to make everything perfect for everyone, and will not allow any sort of friction. Some disagreement is healthy for a group to function effectively, but it can be hard for him to accept this. You can always count on the Champion to have your back. You’re going to have to be prepared for him to have your opponent’s back too, though.

Microstory 498: Provider

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The Provider, as you would imagine, is known for being incredibly generous. He spends most of his time worrying about others, and making sure they know that he’s available for them. He has leadership qualities—and is, in fact, placed in a position of power for the team—but chooses to have little to do with actual decision-making. Instead, he finds himself roaming from unit to unit, offering moral support and spiritual advice. He does not feel that he knows more about cooking than anyone else but gladly contributes in that area, ensuring everyone’s needs are met, both physically and emotionally. Think of him as a stereotypical bartender, pointlessly wiping down the bar...listening intently to your problems. He treats the people around him very much like The Counselor in that way. One thing that makes this easier for him is his excellent social memory. He never forgets a name, and never forgets a face. Nor is he likely to forget anything someone told him about themselves, no matter how insignificant. He’s the guy who asks you about your neighbor’s once-ill pet years after you mentioned it in passing during a brief conversation. He is very concerned with the quality of the group’s dynamic. Though they don’t really have any downtime, he sort of forces upon them his agenda of team-building and cooperation. With all these different types of people trying to work together, he understands the necessity of creating a healthy and well-balanced work environment. His life has not always been so great and fulfilling, though. His desire to provide for people was stunted while working at a dead-end sales job for a large corporation. He felt disgusting selling people things that they didn’t need, and eventually generated enough courage to quit and try to make something good out of his life. People were surprised when he joined the military, but he saw no greater service to his convictions. It is perhaps his actions that make the greatest impact on the future of the galaxy.

Microstory 497: Mastermind

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Ah, The Mastermind. Bold, clear-headed, and sometimes rather rude, he knows what needs to be done, and doesn’t wait for his team to catch up. Like the Performer, he too will run off on unsanctioned missions. The main difference is that he never apologizes for it, and is less adept at reacting to unforeseen circumstances. That’s not to say he isn’t smart. He is, in reality, likely more intelligent than nearly everyone else in the group. The Crafter may be the only one he wouldn’t be able to measure up to. Unlike many other smart people, though, he’s never felt the need to prove himself to anyone, least of all himself. His ideas more often than not clash with those of other, and he has trouble relating to them. He sees things one way, and doesn’t really understand why anyone would not see it that way. He knows intellectually that there are as many perspectives as there are people, but doesn’t really like to fall in line, and act accordingly. He possesses what’s known as a super-magnus degree in literature. Basically this means that he is one of the greatest authorities of the subject, and that you would have a hard time finding anyone who knows more than him. This degree can take centuries to reach, and doesn’t really allow for much else. He can read a full-length novel in a matter of minutes, and comprehend it excellently. Unfortunately, he doesn’t always apply his knowledge appropriately to social or business situations, which makes it difficult for people to want to work with him. His brother is The Composer, but you would not know that if you weren’t made aware of their last names. They do not have a brotherly relationship with each other, and each one has to earn respect from the other through professional conduct. To be clear, the Mastermind is a very good person, who has always kept an open-mind..about...having an open mind. Over time, working with the group changes him, and he goes on to be just as much of a hero as everyone else.

Microstory 496: Performer

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The member of the team who most easily adapts to the new dynamic is The Performer. She accepts their situation almost immediately, but she has trouble dealing with the future. She’s always done a great job of reacting to problems as they come across, but has never enjoyed, or really even appreciated the concept of, preparing for future consequences. She experiences a constant inner conflict between doing the right thing, and just letting everything go. She is quick to discover the easy way out of a situation, which often involves cutting her losses and running. She feels a strong sense of love for everyone in her group, and develops these connections surprisingly quickly, but then feels an apathy for anyone she has not met personally. She understands on an intellectual level their duty, but does not fully recognize the intensity of their new life. She has a sub-magnus degree in weapons & combat. Spontaneous, and a little ill-tempered, the Performer can be a little delusional about how defiant she is against authority. She wants to be a team player, but doesn’t always realize what that means, and how she should modify her behavior. Her team eventually learns to not turn their backs on her when they’re planning a mission. As soon as she finds out when and where they’re going to be, she’s likely to run off and try to take care of it on her own. If anyone can handle a team mission by herself, it’s certainly her, but that doesn’t make it a good idea. Rest assured as well, if there is too much tension, or awkward silence, in the room, she is going to find a way to break it. She’s always good for an inappropriate joke, or a quip about superficial qualities of their opponents. Her capacity for loyalty is really only outshined by her ability to pretend like it doesn’t exist. She is highly extroverted and entertaining, but very few people truly know her, because she carefully constructs a facade to protect herself, and those around her, as she’ll claim. Work hard enough on a relationship with her, though, and always try to give her the benefit of the doubt, and she will ultimately come through for you.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 25, 2110

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Mateo had already dealt with Zeferino and Nerakali. It was only fitting that their sister would jump into the game now. “The third Preston,” Mateo said to Lincoln after returning to the timeline in 2210. They had been interrupted last year, and were never able to finish their conversation without anyone else catching wind. For some reason, he felt that he wasn’t supposed to talk about it anymore for the rest of the day.

“The fourth, actually,” Lincoln Rutherford corrected. “I imagine nobody’s ever mentioned The Curator to you, though. He’s another entity I can’t track. No one knows what happened to him.”

“Am I gonna have to deal with him at some point too?”

“Probably not, if anything he’s apathetic about the whole thing now.”

“I feel stupid for not thinking of Arcadia before. It’s so obvious. She’s pissed about her siblings’ death, and people like to blame me for everything.”

“Yes, revenge does seem to follow you around.”

“What is her power again?”

“She was The Conservator. She made sure certain events in the timeline happened in a certain way, even if a choosing one went back in time and changed it.”

“She was, but isn’t now?”

“She’s started calling herself The Extractor. She’s changed a few minor things. For instance, when you first entered The Constant, your cousin, Danica gave you cell phones. They were for you, Leona, your mother, Samsonite, and Theo.”

“That never happened.”

“It did. In fact, many events hinged on that having happened. The Extractor doesn’t remove things from history, she just tears them out of the timestream. We are not in an alternate reality, Mateo. We are in a corrupted reality. All those crazy adventures and tribulations you had still happened, but no one remembers them. She obviously made a point of shielding your own memories, probably as some sort of punishment.”

“Well, being trapped on an island on another planet with everyone I love doesn’t sound like the worst punishment I could think of.

“That is not the punishment.” A woman had appeared; obviously the Extractor, Arcadia Preston. “This is just the beginning.”

Oh no.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m not adding punishment because of what you just said. This has been in the works. I have a plan.”

“Please.” He took her by the arms, almost lovingly, and not forcefully. “Tell me what I can do. This doesn’t have to go on for weeks. I know you’re upset about your family, and I’m sorry. I never wanted any of that. I think you’re smart enough to know that I absolutely did not start this.”

She took his arms too so that they were grasping each other in a kind of secret handshake. “I do understand that. I’m not as crazy as they were, I think you’ll find. I have my reasons for doing this. There will be challenges—not tribulations, mind you—but they will not be easy. They’re not designed for you to prove that you deserve to live. They have goals.” She did not let go. “Every three days, I’m going to remove someone from time that you love. Only you will remember them...” she turned her head towards Lincoln, but did not remove her eye contact with Mateo. “...except for this guy. I can’t change that, but I do want him here with you. There are rules, though. He can help you with the Expiations, just like everyone else you have left, but he cannot reveal to anyone that he remembers. And you two can’t discuss it with each other, even in private.”

“I complete one of these...expiations, and you’ll give them back?”

“No. You have to complete all of them. Rather, you are going to be assigned all of them. Whether you succeed is entirely up to you. I will return everyone you’ve earned, but I will return them all at once, when you’re done with the whole thing. If you failed with any of them, you won’t get those people back. Ever.”

“Is there anything I can do to prevent this? Can I...can I test out of the class?”

“No, you can’t. I know this sounds cruel, but it’s important to me that you learn from your experiences over the last several years, and this is how I’m choosing to teach you. I want you to win. That sounds ridiculous, because hypothetically, I could just cancel the whole thing. I could, but I won’t, because you deserve this. Even if you don’t see it, you deserve it. This is happening. Do you understand?”

He did. “Yes.”

“Okay.” She pulled him closer and hugged him tightly. Strangely, the hug felt good. Arcadia really did seem different than her siblings. She wasn’t sassy or dickish. True, she was screwing up his life, and some innocent people were suffering for it, but it really didn’t look like she was deriving pleasure from it. That was at least something. “Your first expiation is going to be for The Constructor, Baudin Murdoch. I’ll tell you right now that you’re gonna have to build something, but most of the time, I won’t even show up. I’m going to install the instructions for it in someone who happens to be left to help you. The first one is easier, which is why you’ll only have tomorrow to get it done. For the others, you’ll be allotted three days. When you and Leona disappear, the others on the island might remember that the expiations exist, but nothing about the expiations themselves. They’ll just go about their lives, waiting for you to return. And when you do return a year later, their memories will flood back in, and you can start back up where you left off.”

“I suppose that’s for the best. I wouldn’t want them to be so anxious all that time when they have to wait anyway.”

“Yeah, see, so you get it. They’re better off being oblivious until they can actually do something to help.” She finally looked over to Lincoln. “Again, I can’t do anything for ya. I’m not omnipotent.”

Honestly, it really was nice interacting with an enemy who wasn’t just straight up evil, or intent on accumulating power. Mateo eventually grew to be friends with Gilbert, and even Horace. Maybe the same would happen with him and Arcadia. Or maybe not.

“Now,” she went on, “I’ll let you get back to your family and friends. Don’t forget that part of the challenge is convincing them that you’re not crazy. If they don’t help you, or even if they try to stop you, I won’t interfere. You would be wise, Lincoln to remember how much you’re even allowed to know.”

“I understand,” Lincoln said with a bow of the head.

“Can I tell them myself?” Mateo asked of her. “Can I tell them about you, and this conversation?”

“You can tell them what you’d like. Hell, these expiations might not even require help in the first place. I’ve not come up with all of them yet.”

“Could I ask you for a favor?” Mateo asked.

She was wary, but receptive. “You can ask...”

“Remember that you have the power here. You can stop anytime you want. You can call off the whole thing. That is...unless you’re actually working for someone else, like Gilbert was.”

“I will not forget that,” she said genuinely, dismissing his accusations of her having a partner. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek and then disappeared.

“Wow, that was weird,” Lincoln noted.

“Indeed. Are you gonna be okay?”

“Me? These challenges have been given to you.”

“You have to carry this burden alone. At least I can talk to people about it.”

“I’ve been carrying secret knowledge on my own for my whole life. It’s nothin’ to me now.”

“It’s just Tuesday,” Mateo suggested.

Lincoln smiled. “Exactly.” They started walking back towards the camp. “You really do seem to be handling this well.”

“Part of my problem before was my resistance and antagonistic disposition. The only way I get through this is if I think positively. I have to treat her like a friend, and maybe—just maybe—someday she will be.”

“That’s very mature of you.”

“Well, I am 124 years old.”

They laughed, but then they stopped at the edge of the forest.

“We better come from different directions at different times,” Mateo said. “Like we did yesterday.”

“Right. If you’re about to explain what’s going on, it shouldn’t look like I was with you.”

“Yeah.”

“I need to get some water for us anyway.”

Everybody waited patiently while Lincoln slowly walked up to them, carrying the now empty bucket from the little plane Gilbert had crashed there for an early tribulation. That was okay. It wasn’t like Mateo was eager to talk to these people again. What was he going to say? Even with all this time manipulation, they would have a hard time believing that they had been experiencing entirely different lives just a couple years ago. But Lincoln was finally there, and it was time to begin.

“Okay, I know I freaked out a lot of people with my meltdown yesterday. I now believe that to be part of the game, to see how I would handle the changes. Believe it or not, I was completely right. I just spoke with one Arcadia Preston, a.k.a. The Conservator, a.k.a. The Extractor.”

“She has two nicknames?” Gilbert asked.

“She changed it because of her new mission. When once she helped the timeline, she now messes with it. That’s what she’s done here. She tore Baudin out of time, along with all of his buildings.”

“Why do you remember and we don’t?” Téa asked, more in wonder, and less in doubt.

“She kept my mind intact so that I could suffer their loss, and effectively work to get them back.”

“How do you know?” Xearea questioned.

“How do I know what?”

“How do you know that she didn’t mess with your memories as well? In fact, how do you know that what you remember isn’t false, and what we remember isn’t the true reality?”

“I’m going to work with my knowledge, under the assumption that I can trust my own mind. You can either accept me, and help, or you can ignore it. It makes no difference to Arcadia. I do want to make one thing clear, though. Baudin is only the beginning. She is going to start tearing other people from time. He pointed to Mario. “You could be next.” He pointed to Saga. “Or you.”

Saga shrugged like it wasn’t that big of a deal.

Mateo kept going. “Our first challenge, which she calls an expiation, is going to be tomorrow. She’s going to make us build something. Rather, she’s making me. Rather, she’s not making me do anything. Each expiation will be attached to one missing person, and the success of it leads to their return. If I don’t do it, or I don’t win, I don’t get them back, but it doesn’t stop me from getting anyone else back.”

Xearea pressed on. “Are you threatening us?”

“What?

“If we don’t help you now, are you just going to forsake us when we do disappear?”

Mateo got down on his knees...like a martyr. “Never. I will always work my hardest to get you back, no matter how close I am to you.” He looked over to his daughter, Kivi. “Or how little I know you.”

That seemed to satisfy Xearea. Mateo had to answer a few more questions, but then they were all satisfied as well...at least as much as they were going to be for what they were faced with. The rest of the day was awkward, except when Mateo was alone with Leona. After night fell, they retired to their little hut and fell with it.

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Counselor

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So these aren’t going as well as I’d hoped. I started writing short fiction not really knowing how short is short, and how short is too short. The early ones are the shortest, but grew longer the more I wrote, and I ended up settling into a range of about 300 to 500 words. I know that length isn’t supposed to be all that important, but look at one next to the other, and the story with only 150 words just doesn’t look right on the screen. It looks like I didn’t have much to say. And that’s always true. The length is always a decent indicator of how great of a hold I have on the material. But as you may have noticed, these are sort of danglers. I like my series to be grouped in nice and large chunks. I’ve been thinking of the Headlines series a lot more than these Personalities, and have even written a few of them already, so they are just naturally bound to be better.

As I’ve said, I identify most with the Counselor personality type, but it’s not what you think. Real Counselors derive satisfaction out of helping others. It’s never done that for me, though. Community service, holding doors open for people, making sure to accommodate everyone around me are just things that I do. You see, the real world doesn’t interest me all that much, or rather it’s hard for me to be too invested in it. The imaginary mind palace I’ve created for myself is no less vivid than my desk that’s in front of me right now. I can always and no matter what, about as close to literally as possible, escape to another world. These can have been created by others, or by me. I can jump into Fillory, take a Nexus to Ceres, then stroll down the block in Wayward Pines, before relaxing on Tribulation Island. When I’m here, in the real world, I ultimately don’t need all that much. So when someone wants something out life, the only thing I need to get past before helping them with that is my physical indolence. Real Counselors really want to help, and they get something out of that.

The Counselor in my story is the same way. He’s a diplomat from a recently deveiled planet. For reference, a veiled planet is one that exists without any knowledge or witting interaction with people from elsewhere. My characters operate under what are called The Priorities. Priority Two is like the Prime Directive in the Star Trek franchise...except not...because it’s the exact opposite. When you go out into space and find a veiled culture, there’s this unwritten rule that you share with them everything you know. Allowing war, disease, and other horrors found in underdeveloped civilizations when you have the power to stop it is considered by most people who contribute positively to society to be immoral. The Counselor knows very little about interplanetary relations, and galactic conflicts. He is not officially a member of the team, because he literally didn’t sign up for this, but everyone accepts him just the same. His life is in constant danger for his frequent attempts to have civil audience with a threat, and everyone is always having to protect him. As he becomes more jaded, however, he eventually learns to protect himself.

The Counselor likes learning about other people, and tries to figure out their motivations so that he can make everyone as happy as possible. He knows intellectually that you often can’t give someone what they feel they need without taking something away from someone else, but he doesn’t want to. He always tries to look for the solution that pleases everyone, and even though the team’s enemies treat him as an enemy as well, they have a level of respect for him, and tend to give him the benefit of the doubt. Though he does learn to adopt certain military values, and even develops some violent tendencies, he never lets go of his diplomatic leanings. At one time, he becomes a powerful force in the galaxy as the leading negotiator. There’s no telling how many conflicts he’s ended or prevented, along with his own team of counselors.