"OK, gather around. That's right…no pushing! OK, look over there. Can everyone see? Well, that is the landing portion of the Eagle, the first manned probe ever to land on the surface of the moon. It was launched in 1969 by the United States. It was piloted by Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin, who became the first Humans ever to stand on another world. Michael Collins stayed in orbit in the Apollo capsule he had piloted from Earth. The equipment left behind has not changed in the millennium that it has laid there, due to the surrounding vacuum of space. Though we have, as a species, traveled the entire length and breadth of the galaxy, and even gone beyond it, we still owe a debt of gratitude to those who first bravely stepped onto a truly new world."

A lone man watched the tour guide with the children here on a school field trip. He wondered if the people involved with NASA a thousand years ago would be pleased or insulted that Tranquility Base had become a popular spot for day trips.

The man came here for little more reason than remembrance. Though he had traveled across the galaxy, as described by the tour guide, he admired the courage of those first astronauts. His memory was not served by those voyagers, however. It was jarred more by the children observing the site.

Once, he had had children of his own, and he had taken them here. They had squealed with delight when they saw the primitive spacecraft, when they heard the tale of the astronauts. His wife, too, had been pleased. That trip here had been part of a week long tour of the home solar system of Humanity. True, part had been because of business, but it was mainly a chance for his family to see Earth. Saturn's rings, Jupiter's storms, the metropolises of Venus and Mars, and even New York City had all revealed themselves to the family. The Home of all Humanity, as well as other intelligent species, was every bit as enthralling as had been promised.

The man had not seen his home city of Boston in some ten years while his wife and children had never left their home planet of Rigel V. That world was a lifeless one, orbiting a harsh, young star, a star much more massive and luminous than Sol. Rigel was also doomed to live a much shorter life. Rigel V had been semi-terraformed, after having been used for some years as a research outpost. The man's family was used to the artificial enhancements of their world, and was quite shocked at the natural state of Earth.

The man had operated a merchant business, acting as a middleman for the transport of goods. True, some megacorporate carriers had existed for centuries, but smaller shippers were the people of choice by clients from places such as Amsterdam and Boston. Independent shippers gave better services and knew local customs and laws better than the giants. They were also more flexible about exactly what goods could be shipped where.

The man's business was quite profitable and provided a decent living. The trip to Earth was in part intended to visit some of his clients with whom he had never spoken in person. His family had enjoyed the vacation, and all seemed well for the journey home. All was not as it seemed, however…

Though the lanes among the stars visible from Earth were well known and widely traveled, there was always the persistent threat of pirate raids. To be sure, not many operated in these regions as the larger nations maintained a military presence intended to keep away such raiders. However, space is vast, and not every corner can be patrolled. The man had lost a few shipments to the braver pirates, but it had never been a cause for serious concern. The one in-a-million odds caught up to him and his family upon the return trip to Rigel.

From out of nowhere, several single-man craft approached the passenger liner. It was able to halt the craft while on its mid-course correction, this descent from trans-space being necessary because of local gravitational fields. Non-military craft usually required a brief course correction because of their less advanced guidance systems. During this time, such craft were vulnerable to the chance encounter with pirates. This particular band of pirates had been waiting for some time in that portion of space for just such a liner, mobilizing within the twenty minutes required for the stop.

The pirates boarded with little trouble, hampered only slightly by the precious few weapons wielded by some of the passengers. The pirates were defended by shields covering their bodies, through which few hand weapons could penetrate; none of the armed passengers carried such weapons, however, and the resistance very soon became nil. The pirates robbed what they could from the stunned passengers and from the small holds of the ship. They then left as swiftly as they had arrived, probably docking with a larger, hidden craft and then going on to places unknown.

Few of the unarmed crew had been killed, and the ship was still flyable. The man, after having relinquished his possessions to the pirates, set about checking on his family. He had been in the bar at the time while his loved ones were asleep in their cabin. The pirate who seemed to be the leader of the band had come into the bar and held up the patrons at gunpoint. He had a beard covering his whole face, as if he hadn't shaved in quite some time, maybe years. The voice was also quite strange, with an accent that was from…maybe Scotland? The crew also wore some sort of logo which seemed to be of mountains. The man thought nothing much of these at the time, other than as identifying marks for the police.

Though shaken, the man knew that such events happened from time to time. His only real fear was that his family would be quite shaken. After the pirates took what they wanted, he rushed to his cabin.

With the most dire of odds, the cabin had been next to that of an armed passenger. When that passenger met his maker at the hands of the pirates, so too did the wife, son and daughter of the man. After racing back to them, he found them unrecognizable, the bodies burned beyond identification. DNA analysis later showed who they were, but by that time he had already grasped the horrible truth.

He returned home a broken man, without the will to carry on. Business floundered soon after, with most of his clients unable to continue using his services. Employees likewise left, one after another, and soon he had nothing left. He left his home with no more than the clothes on his back, joining the destitute among the streets of Rigellia, capital of Rigel. Much given to drink, he spent quite some time begging for money in the back allies, making a home from discarded materials, every day edging ever closer to the death for which he yearned.

One late night, long after the city had bid farewell to its workers for the day, he looked up at the stars. It was an exceptionally clear night, and the stars were very clear, as they were seen from space. He also remembered the story of Perth, the blacksmith of Moby Dick, who had similarly lost everything only to be resurrected by the sea. Melville had always been one of the man's favorite authors, as the stories were told in an era of exploration and consolidation, much like the present age. Across the centuries, Melville's words of sea travel rang true for space travel.

Perth had heard the beckoning sea, heeding its call to a new life. He became the blacksmith on a whaling voyage, carrying on his trade in a quite different capacity. Just as the sea called to Perth, so did the stars call to the man. "Come to us. Your life yet has meaning. Journey among us in a new life. This we grant you, for you are a good man, with a kind heart. Come, we will guide the way. Take up your former trade, but do not stay on the surface of your world; ply it in the depths between us. Come, see the galaxy about which you have only dreamed; travel to every part of it. This, we tell you, is your destiny. Do this, for your doomed family would have desired it. Come to us, for it is the only way from your misery."

The man, not concerned with the fact of the voices, listened to the words. That day, he took action. Though he had seemed to disappear from the universe for an entire year, he was still recognized by his former creditors. Most debts had been forgiven in a sort of gesture of condolence, and he was able to borrow that which was needed for a second-hand freighter. He was able to contact a number of his old clients, who had been none too thrilled with their new shippers anyway. Now, the man was able to deliver the goods straight to and from his clients. He also found new business from all across the galaxy. His life was renewed, the old life virtually forgotten. He could not even recall his old name, having named himself Perth in honor of the fabled blacksmith.

His craft, of course, was promptly named the Pequod, giving credit to the author who now meant so much to him. The ship was an old freighter, designed and built, as so many were, in the Sol system. Known galaxy-wide for the quality of ship design and manufacturing, Mercury Sunworks was the ship maker of choice. Based on the innermost of Sol's worlds, the company forged ships from the living rock of the world; the metals on the tiny inferno of a world were of a quality second to none. Composite materials were also top rate, for they had a perfect, natural oven right above their very heads. Suffice it to say, ships from any maker on this world were top-notch, coveted throughout the galaxy.

*  *  *

All of these memories came back to him in a flood. They always did whenever he returned to the Sol system, and especially this small satellite of Earth. As the years had passed, however, the memories grew dimmer, as if they were receding into some distant abyss. He didn't know whether or not to feel guilty. That, more than anything else, caused him distress.

After a time, he looked about, as if awakening from a dream. The Sun had changed position in the black sky of this desolate world, and the school group had long since past. Perth wondered if they were on their way home, back to the security provided by their parents.

Security which he himself could not provided when most needed…

But no, such thoughts were not helpful. What was in the past was nevermore; the present and future were what mattered now. And so, he prepared for his immediate future: a meeting in Boston with a longtime client. Three hours in a shuttle would see him in the Nation of New England, so long a hotbed of revolutionary thoughts and deeds. He hopped to it, barely making the departing craft. After paying the fare and taking his seat, he adjusted the viewer for the local news.

"Thank you for watching the news for travelers, courtesy of the United Nations and the Interstellar Travel Board.

"A minor earthquake, of magnitude 8.0, struck the southern portion of the Republic of California. The tremor was felt only by those outside of the limits of the cities of Los Angeles and San Francisco. The cities themselves were not harmed in any way, a testament, according to the President of California, to their preparedness over the past millennium.

"In Amsterdam, the Dutch government once again refused to extradite the accused privateer, Benny 'the Nut,' to law enforcement authorities from The People's Socialist Republic of Alpha Centauri.  'The Nut' has been accused in that country of first degree piracy, a penalty punishable by death. The Chinese government was quick to support their ally and former colony, but the Dutch have still refused to deliver the accused to his accusers. The Netherlands also hinted at possible economic restriction against both China and Alpha Centauri if repeated requests were made. No diplomats from either China or Alpha Centauri would comment, but the Dutch ambassador to Alpha Centauri, Piet van der Heineken did state that his small nation was founded upon the principles of freedom in all walks of life, and that none seeking refuge in his country would be denied safety from tyranny.

"In Paris, no progress was made to resolve the latest round of fighting between the Mandrofino and the United Agrigentium alliance. Both the British and French have pledged support for their respective allies, but neither was willing to concede any gains to the other. Though a nominal cease-fire has officially been in place between the two Human nations, sporadic raids by one upon the other have been reported near the zone of Mandrofino-Agrigentium conflict. Those two species continue their latest war, regardless of the views of their Human allies. Elsewhere in the zone of conflict, the Mandrofino have reported sporadic raids upon planets of the Agrigentium home system, while the Agrigentium report sporadic fighting near the edge of a Mandrofino mining system.

"In Boston, several prominent engineers from across the Republic of New England assembled to issue an official denial that that nation had developed a Human-sized energy shield which could repel any energy or projectile weapon. The engineers of that nation had been accused of dealing such technology to outlaw bands of privateers, who had then used them in raids upon interstellar shipping. Officials from several prominent corporations and universities stated that not only had such devices never been manufactured, but certainly nothing of the sort would ever be issued to outlaws. The governments of the neighboring Haudenosaunee, New York City and the United States of America expressed concern that their neighbor would produce such 'infernal' devices in a location so close to their territory. New England officials assured them that they would never use such devices against her larger neighbors."

Perth had dozed off while watching the news. Before long he had arrived in Boston. Logan airport had not changed much in 1,000 years, except for the fact that many craft no longer needed a huge runway for takeoffs and landings. He left the airport via the blue maglev, still called the 'T.' The train sped under the 'hah-bah,' arriving at a stop within the city proper. A quick change of T lines, and then he was speeding across the Charles River to Cambridge. After a brief spell underground, he got off the train at his stop. There he rose to the surface via escalator.

If the airport had not changed much in 1,000 years, then Harvard Square had not changed at all. The famed University was still there, as were the rest of the institutes of higher learning and research companies of this Hub of the Universe. How ironic that this name had arisen in a time of sailing ships! But it was true, and the Republic of New England had thrived for eight centuries, after its states had been of major influence in the United States and Canada. Crazies from all over the galaxy came here for no good reason other than just for the hell of it. New York may have had more crazy Humans and aliens, SoHo may have had been more renowned, but nothing could compare to Harvard Square.

The client had their facility in the Square. Perth had never really been sure of what the client did, but it had something to do with the quality control of parts for trans-drive thrusters. Apparently the client received the finished goods from other manufacturers, did the QC and then passed them on to their final destination. Usually that meant Mercury, where they would be used in the ships built there. Sometimes, though, many were sent across space to foreign manufacturers. Smaller transportation companies would be used for such deliveries. Perth, in his former life, had only ever seen the paperwork for such things. Now, for the first time, he was to see them up close, and transport them himself.

He happened to arrive right in the middle of the QC process. The product still had to be put through the final testing, labeling and packaging. He watched for a moment and went outside. Simply observing the people had always been a spectator's sport, especially here.

After a bit of that, he went back to the client's office, knowing the cargo would be ready. Following the usual procedures, he signed for the packages and placed them on his anti-grav cart. Then, with the little bit of luck always required on the Boston 'T' system, he brought the packages back to the airport, catching another shuttle. A quick stopover at a geosync station, another shuttle ride, and Perth and his cargo arrived at the Pequod. He stowed the packages, with the others from this run, along with a few other items he bought on Earth, and prepared to depart the system. His next stop was not even within the realm of Humanity. A client within Ramalenta, a nation of the Reptil race, Mankind's oldest alien friends, was the customer of the Boston company. He would travel from home world to home world, from one great space faring species to another.

The trip would take several months, with a few course corrections in the interregnum. He could catch up on books and such things as movies. Though the ship may move slowly, FTL radio moved nearly instantly through the distances he was traveling. The latest thriller was but a quick download away. One of the many things he had noticed was that he never had time for such luxuries in his former life. This leg of the journey was simply the latest in a perpetual voyage, one having taken him to dozens of systems serving as many different customers. He kept no steady home, living on the ship as if it were a star-faring house. Such men as he were the true nomads of the newborn 31st century.

The first trip through high-D space went as usual, as did the first course correction and the second trip. It was during the second course correction that fate was to again play with Perth.

Perth himself was a legitimate merchant. The ship he owned was legal in all countries to which he traveled, his methods similarly legal. It was the illegal ones to be feared; they obeyed no international law, observed no treaties, and cared not a whit for any law. Some, the privateers, were hired by governments to perform covert tasks about which the government in question wanted no others to know. Pirates were those who cared only for themselves or their clients, who themselves were conducting illegal activities. The difference between privateer and pirate was largely one of semantics.

Whatever their distinctions, Perth was stopped by a band of them during that second course correction. While in the midst of programming the computer, entering data about star positions, course variables and such, small one-man fighters descended upon the Pequod. They caught up to it even before there was any chance to escape, for they employed a sort of cloaking device unknown to Perth. Once surrounded and unable to escape, the Pequod was herded forward in space to a point where another vessel decloaked. This was the pirate vessel itself. A shuttle craft came forth and docked with the Pequod. From the hatch emerged a dozen or so pirates, each fully armed with a multitude of weapons, each with a greedy gleam in his eye. Perth had simply stayed in his chair in the cockpit awaiting the pirates.

While the band ransacked the ship, the leader of the pirates walked to the cockpit, stared at Perth. Perth had turned his chair around to face whoever would arrive. He said nothing. The pirate stared for a time, saying nothing. Finally, he spoke. "So. You would seem to be alone here. Not a crew busily attending their tasks aboard such a fine vessel?"

Perth said not a word, though a chord was struck in his mind. Is this man familiar to me?

"Ah, and the cat has your tongue, eh? Well, aren't we the brave one. Usually by now I have either threats to leave immediately or pleas to spare the life or someone or another. Usually a favored pet. So what is your reason for silence?"

Perth still said nothing. Recognition came from the deepest memories within him.

"Well, brave but foolish. It really doesn't matter if you say anything or not; we are simply going to relieve you of the burden of your cargo." He picked up a communicator. "What does this lad have?"

Scottish?

"A load of transwarp parts, brand new. Some lab supplies. That's the only valuable stuff. There are some trinkets and other things like that. Maybe those will bring a few bucks to some sap tourist. There are some books, food, other crap. Nothing major here, cap'n."

Are those mountains on his cloak?

The lead pirate looked at Perth again. "Well, you weren't a complete waste of time, just a partial. So, if you'll kindly just sit there while we unload, I'd much appreciate it." With that he turned around and walked towards the back of the ship. Perth watched him go. When the pirate had turned the corner near the hold, Perth stood up slowly and followed.

I know who you are…

He turned the corner and observed the pirate crew attempting to leave.

It was at that time that he drew his own sidearm, a small plasma weapon. He aimed with an almost unconscious effort, firing at the antigrav cart. The startled pirate crew hesitated for only the briefest of times before returning fire with a variety of projectile, laser and plasma weapons. The deadly fire from these weapons converged on the spot where Perth stood, and had absolutely no effect. Perth was surrounded by a glow whose color almost defied definition. The bullets and energy from the pirates' sidearms simply bounced from the shield. He stood and stared at the intruders, who not having a clue what to do, simply stared back. Perth motioned for them to exit by the way they had come. The leader, as befitting of such, was the last to leave. Perth, however, spoke for the first time.

"We have met before, in a previous life of mine."

The pirate stopped and looked at Perth. He started laughing, rather surprised at what he had heard.

"Now, what could that mean? Was I the mark in your previous life, and you the pirate? Or where you perhaps a flower, and I came along and picked you for a bouquet?"

Perth walked closer, sidearm still in hand.

 "No, you were the same…well, I don't want to use the word 'person,' but it will have to do. I, however, was quite different. I had almost never left the world of my birth, except for an occasional vacation. On the return from one of those, the man I had been was with his family and was stopped by scum of your kind. They killed my family and the man I was. The being you see before you is but a shell, resurrected by the stars and given a second chance in this existence. I never thought to see you again, but the fates are strange."

The pirate was confused. "I do not remember who you are. Your face is not familiar."

"No matter. All that matters is that I remember you." He braced himself and pulled the trigger. The shot was perfectly placed: The pirate had been reaching for his hidden sidearm, but his hand was scorched, the sidearm dropped to the floor. He fell down, clutching his burned hand. Perth walked over to him, sidearm now aimed directly at the pirate's head.

"I have the penultimate power in the universe. I have the power to end your life, just as you ended mine, and that of my family." He charged the weapon to full power, the device giving a positronic whine.

"But I will use the greatest power in the universe." He backed away. "That is the power to destroy…" He stretched out, ready to fire. "…and then not destroying." He backed off. The next words were spoken with barely a whisper, but through clenched teeth.  "Get the fuck off my ship."

The pirate had been sweating, but was not fearful. He slowly stood up. "I do remember you, but you were but one of many. What do I care for others, when no others care for me or my people? But I will leave you with this: I will recall you with much more clarity in the future. Perhaps we will meet again, as the friends that we now are."

With that he turned away, walking back to his shuttle. The shuttle unlocked from the Pequod and returned to the pirate ship. It then turned towards the Pequod, waggled a bit, and then accelerated, entering higher dimension space.

As for Perth, he continued his calculations and resumed his travels.