Naomi woke the following morning to the rhythmic beeping of console. She rolled over and tried her best to ignore the noise.

She had returned to her quarters just as the the ambient environmental lighting started the slow cycle to dawn. Still swaying from the after effects of the wine and scotch, Naomi had just about mustered the energy to undress before slipping into bed.

She groaned loudly as she sat up in the bed, and the pounding in her temples intensified. Not yet ready to deal with the intrusion of daylight, her hand quested blindly along the bedside table for her bottle of water.

It wasn't there.

Instead, her hand touched skin.

Fingers.

A hand.

Someone else's hand.

Naomi jerked back instinctively, rolling off the other side of the bed and coming up in a crouch, the bed now between her and whoever was on the other side. It took a few seconds to blink the blur of sleep from her eyes, but her grogginess was gone, eradicated by the shock and surge of adrenaline flooding her bloodstream.

Whoever the stranger was, they were sitting next to her bed, slowly sipping from her bottle of water.

They leaned forward slowly, resting their elbows on their knees, hands clasped lightly, thumbs slowly circling each other.

He just sat there. It was a 'he' she realised, there was nothing feminine about the silhouette that had invaded her room.

They were big, hulking was the word that came to mind, and the sharp outline of his clothing suggested a security uniform.

A security uniform.

A chill ran down Naomi's spine as she slowly backed away towards the drawer that held her utility pouch. It wasn't much, but her knife might at least even the odds a bit.

'I wouldn't do that if I were you.' His voice was deep, fitting for his size, and the easy, precise pronunciation betrayed his officer school training. It wasn't a threat, just a statement of fact. Naomi knew that even with a weapon, she didn't stand a chance. And he knew that she knew.

'Besides,' he stretched smoothly as he spoke, brandishing her knife in the air, 'I already removed your knife from the drawer.' He tilted the utility knife from side to side in front of his face, the blade glinting in the light from her console.

'There are much better tactical decisions you could make in this situation.'

She glanced around quickly, trying to evaluate he situation. If there was a smart tactical decision to be made she didn't see it.

He was positioned right between her and the only exit from the room. Putting the bed between them, had only put her further from safety. Even seated, Naomi was sure he would beat her to it if she made a move. Panic rose in her throat and her breath caught.

He grunted something that might have been laughter.

When he spoke again, his voice had softened, although Naomi wasn't sure that was the correct description.

'I am not here to harm you. I am simply here to deliver a message.'

He paused briefly, letting his words sink in.

'Part of that message is me. For what it's worth anyway. They want you to know that they can get to you anywhere. There is no door aboard this station they cannot open. No airlock they cannot cycle. No security system they cannot tamper with. If you do continue on your current path, there will be no further threats, no torture, no pain, no suffering. You will die and you will not even know it. Your body will not be found. Do you understand?'

Naomi had to force herself to nod in response, the muscles in her neck and shoulders straining with the effort. The movement helped to relieve some of the tension and she found that the swell of panic in her chest was subsiding. She was still trapped, but her paralysis was fading.

'You are to stop investigating your father's death,' the man continued, 'Your chance has been and gone. Any further 'efforts' on your part will be met with resistance.'

His emphasis on the word 'effort' suggested the futility of such actions.

'It would be unfortunate for someone with so much promise to fall so far, for so little gain.'

'Who the fuck are you?' Naomi asked with a vicious snarl. The harsh sound surprising even herself. He had backed her into a corner, and she didn't like that. As scared as she was at that moment, Naomi was also angry. Very, very angry.

Her words had no effect on him. He just barked another laugh and sat back into the chair.

She was in no position to make demands. They both knew it. He would have examined her personnel record, her training, her aptitude scores. Already gauged her reaction to his appearance in her home. He was likely steps ahead of her in this game. Exactly as he had been trained to do. Naomi had once sparred with Artan while training for a physical, and even then, newly assigned to security, every move she made had been countered. Every faint, every bluff called and used against her. This man would be no less skilled.

Steps ahead and I don't have any viable moves on the board.

'Spirited. I guess that's what they see in you.'

He shrugged and shook his head slowly.

'Who I am, does not matter. As far as my role in all this goes, I am just a messenger. I leave here and I return to my life, forget all about you. I have a family and this little errand has ensured a shot at bridge crew for my son and daughter. And their continued safety. That is my role in all this. Nothing more, nothing less. For what it's worth, your father was a good man. I don't disagree with your anger, or your intentions, whatever they may be. But you've pissed off the wrong people.'

He started to rise slowly from his seat as he spoke.

Fuck, he's big!

She had to crane her neck to look at his face once he reached his full height.

'And now, my part in all of this is done. Consider the message delivered. Balls in your park now kiddo.'

As he finished speaking, he flipped something metallic from his pocket into the air and she was momentarily blinded by a violent white light filling the room.

When Naomi's vision cleared, he was gone.

She blinked a few times, afterimages floating in her eyes and a wave of disorientation sent her stomach into freefall.

Naomi sank to the floor where she was crouched behind her bed.

She crouched there, clutching her sides and shivering. Her earlier anger quickly replaced by shock as the adrenaline wore off.

The fragility of her life, even floating in the void, separated from death by just millimetres of fabric, had never been so evident.

Naomi's faith in the Fleet lay shattered. Everything she had ever known and trusted lay in tatters, and there was nothing she could do about it.

She agreed with the Chief Engineer, she trusted him. But up until that moment, a part of her had still dismissed the conspiracy theories. Still believed that he was exaggerating the lengths to which the Burners would go.

That part of her now lay a smoking ruin on the floor of her quarters.

~

The chime on her console pinged again, the insistent beeping sinking a weight into her stomach.

All thoughts of her nagging hangover had been banished from her mind, replaced by a slow-burning dread.

Putting a shaking hand on her knee, Naomi pushed herself back to her feet.

She didn't want to speak to anyone, but she could see the small portrait of Chief Williams on the console display. It was his private line. He could push any training related calls onto her personal comms through the maintenance computer, regardless of her availability. But a private call to her console would be far less visible and more importantly, would be much less likely to be flagged.

She swallowed hard. The Chief had never contacted her on a private line before.

She gestured the call open and his image expanded on the screen.

'Naomi? Are you there? It's very dark.'

She gestured quickly towards the light and a dim glow illuminated her quarters.

'Sorry. You did just wake me up though.' Naomi tried her best to keep her voice steady but she couldn't stop it shaking; syllables getting caught in her throat, and coming out as muted croaks.

'Ensign, are you alright? What's going on?' His usual gruff, official manner replaced by a look of concern.

'I'm done looking into my father's death Chief.'

She spat the words out quickly, like a piece of rotten fruit. Her stomach squirmed as she spoke. It was enough. She left the rest unsaid, but the meaning behind her words registered with her supervisor across the feed and he frowned in concern.

'They got to you then.'

He was blunt.

He can afford to be.

The thought bubbled like acid in her mind. He was probably already on their radar, especially given his long relationship with her father. He would be harder to touch though, to intimidate. Then again, they had gotten to her father and he had been the captain. There was no harder target.

Staying silent, Naomi nodded lightly in return.

'Bastards.' His curse so low that it was almost a sub-vocalisation, but the anger was evident on his face.

Chief Williams was a strict man, with almost impossible standards, but to him, the crew was his family, and he took any insult against them personally.

'Let it go Sir,' Naomi's words were soft and resigned. Her gaze locked on her bare feet as she spoke. She couldn't meet his eyes. He had put his trust in her and she had been defeated. She had lost the war before it even began.

'This is too big for me. It's probably too big for you as well. They will kill us both, and we won't even see them coming.'

'They don't have that much reach yet Naomi...'

But Naomi cut him off, her fist banging loudly against the desk in front of her

'You don't know that. They killed my father for fuck sake. How can they not have that kind of reach.'

Naomi was tired of holding in her anger, her pain. She had been strong for the rushed burial. She had continued her duties and helped survey the scene of her father's murder. She had even identified the damn body herself. She was done doing what was expected of her. Done doing her duty without questioning the character of those above her.

But Chief Williams was already aware of that. It was in her psych profile.

"Naomi is dutiful and solid in the face of pressure, but has no qualms about standing up in the face of injustice or incompetence."

She knew what the evaluation had said. According to her father, it was that very trait that got her marked for the bridge crew, before all of the other aptitude tests and evaluation protocols.

The Chief didn't reply to her outburst. He obviously had his own agenda, but until he started to level with her about it, she wanted nothing to do with it. As far as she was concerned, if she was going to have threats directed at her through members of Security, she had a right to know what was going on.

Chief Williams seemed to have gotten that message as well.

'Look, Naomi, I don't...'

Naomi cut across him sharply, her patience with his reluctance beginning to wear thin.

'Fuck that Sir! You don't want me involved? I already am. I just had one of their hired thugs threaten me in my quarters. In my fucking bedroom. That's on you Chief! You could have fucking warned me.'

Naomi could feel her voice breaking towards the end, a shrill, panicked note entering her tone.

Chief Williams stood silently on the other end of the comm channel, his eyes downcast. He paused for a moment, letting the silence stretch out.

That he had to take time to consider his response annoyed Naomi even more and she was about to open her mouth to let him know when he finally spoke up.

'Yes, that's on me Naomi. The whole fucking thing is on me. I should have told you more, but would you have believed me? I still don't know that you do.'

'I had enough proof when I saw the video footage Sir. And if that wasn't enough, being threatened in my quarters certainly is. If you want me in, then I'm in, but I want disclosure.'

'Look Naomi, the Burners, they are not just starting to push for full burn now. If they were, it would be generations before the engines were started back up. Some ships, not that far away, have already finished the reconstruction and reconditioning procedures.'

Naomi was stunned, and felt her jaw drop as he spoke.

That was beyond disturbing. If the plan worked, it would mean those ships would reach their destination generations before the rest. That was if the survived the burn, and with enough fuel to decelerate.

It was an almost infinitesimal length of time given the overall duration of the journey. But culture was not uniform across the fleet. Some ships and coalitions were more authoritarian than others, and some of those were downright totalitarian. If one of them reached the end of the void first, their foothold in the new system would give them immense leverage.

'Some of them are ready to burn?' Naomi asked, already fearing that she knew the answer.

Chief Williams glanced down for a few seconds before he gave his answer. His reluctance to respond evident on his face.

'Naomi,' his answer was slow and measured, 'Some already have.'

Some already have.

Naomi felt the ship drop away under her.