Empire Reborn (Taran Empire Saga Book 1): A Cadicle Space Opera

by A. K. DuBoff

  “More wouldn’t make a difference. If it comes to that point, it’ll all be on Jason and me, anyway.”

  “True.”

  “All right, I need to get going. It’ll be at least five hours for transit. As it is, we might not even make it before they do whatever they’re going to do.”

  “If anyone can find a way to communicate with them, it’s you.” Saera took his hands. “Please be careful.”

  “We’ll do our best.”

  — — —

  An alert for immediate mobilization popped up on Jason’s desktop and handheld simultaneously. Not a second later, he heard rushed footsteps coming down the hallway.

  The Lead Engineer went running by as Jason read over the details.

  Shite! They’re coming through the Rift?

  He locked down his desktop and was about to head to the central elevator when he heard his parents leaving the High Commander’s office.

  “Has something happened?” he asked telepathically from a distance, not wanting to shout down the hall.

  The information they shared in his mind turned his stomach. How are we supposed to go up against that? He didn’t ask the question aloud, but the expressions on their faces mirrored his concerns.

  After well-wishes and a hug from his mother, he and his father made their way to the Conquest, bringing only the clothes they were presently wearing. If it came down to an extended trip, they could manufacture more on board; for now, time was of the essence.

  Jason started the pre-flight initiation in the Command Center while his father went down to Engineering to review the work that had been done on a transdimensional imaging solution. Curtis Jaconis, another of the original Primus Elites, and Rianne, the ship’s usual tactical officer from the Militia division, were already in the Command Center when he arrived.

  “Hey, Jason. This is some pretty crazy shite, eh?” Curtis said. He ran his hand through his dark, curly hair.

  “Not how I expected my week to go, no.” Jason swallowed the bile rising in his throat. Of all the places, why did it have to be Alkeer? Tiff could have gone anywhere…

  He shut off the line of thinking. It wasn’t productive, and there was nothing he could do to change the situation.

  Instead, he focused on going over the Conquest’s systems to make sure they were ready for a potential engagement. Once they had passed checks across the board, he had Curtis pilot the ship from port and initiate a jump to their destination.

  We’re coming. Hold on. Until they arrived, there was little else to do but wait.

  —

  When the ship dropped out of subspace a little over five hours later, Jason was relieved to see the Alkeer Station was still intact.

  The structure consisted of three rings rotating around a central shaft. Several starships were docked at a connected port, with only a single destroyer and the rest transport vessels of various sizes. Not long ago, this location would have been filled with a substantial contingent of warships. So much for the peace that had enabled that demilitarization.

  His father had come up from Engineering moments before they dropped out from subspace, not looking particularly happy. “Well, at least we’re not too late,” he muttered upon seeing the view.

  “What about the imaging?” Jason asked.

  Wil shook his head. “Close, but nothing reliable yet. Rowan’s still working on it.”

  So, we’re blind. Jason slumped in the front right seat in the middle of the Command Center, where he’d settled for the voyage.

  While his father conversed with Rianne and Curtis about the sensor data, Jason reached out his senses to the minds of the people on the station. It didn’t take long to single out Tiff.

  He gave her a telepathic hail that was the equivalent of a door knock. She jumped in surprise but then let him in.

  “Hey from afar,” he greeted telepathically. “I swear, I’m not stalking you.”

  “Sounds like something a stalker would say,” she jested. “I take it you’re here because of the… weirdness?”

  “Yeah. I wasn’t expecting to be out this way any time soon. Sorry to intrude.”

  “Glad you’re here. We were pretty relieved to hear the Conquest was coming with the High Commander himself. I suppose you’re okay, too.” She winked in his mind.

  “Still liking the new digs?”

  “It’s great, aside from these bomaxed neighbors that are trying to destroy the neighborhood.”

  “We’ll see what we can do about that.”

  With the speed of the telepathy, Jason hadn’t missed much of the conversation about the sensor data. The gist of it was that they could detect the spatial waves but had no idea what was causing them.

  Wil paced next to his chair. “We’re still blind up here. How is that imager coming?” he asked Rowan over the comm.

  “Still working on it.” The Lead Engineer sounded a little defeated to Jason’s ear. “This synchronization issue is a beast.”

  “I know.” Wil groaned under his breath as he ended the commlink. “I should go back down there to help.”

  “If these guys make a sudden appearance, we need you here in the Command Center,” Curtis said from the front console.

  “Besides, you said yourself that there’s nothing more you can do right now. It’s down to letting the configuration models process,” Jason added. While he didn’t share his father’s passion or aptitude for engineering, he understood enough about what the team was doing to know that their work was at a standstill until the computer found a feasible scenario to meet the conditions his father had programmed.

  The display on the wraparound screen shifted to include a holographic overlay of the spatial distortions that weren’t yet visible to the naked eye. The waves seemed to be closing in on the station.

  Jason’s chest tightened. “We’re going to figure this out, Tiff.”

  Wil leaned forward in his seat. “Any sign of a ship or something we can talk to?”

  Rianne held up her hands in a helpless gesture of what was on the screen. “Take a wild guess.” Any other Militia officer wouldn’t have gotten away with talking to an Agent that way, but she’d been through enough with Wil and the others that it was fitting for the situation.

  “Okay, stay back from the station, outside the zone of the distortions,” Wil instructed. “As soon as they make an appearance, we’ll try to open a dialogue.”

  “What’s the plan?” Tiff asked.

  Jason wished he had something more reassuring to tell her. “We’re trying to figure out a good way to get a look at the bad guys.”

  “I must say, I’m curious.”

  “Me too. The only thing I’ve seen is foking nasty.”

  “Well done! You’ve gotten the hang of swearing like a normal person.”

  “I’m more adaptable than we thought, apparently.”

  She hesitated in her response. “If this is some kind of gesture about how things could be different with us—”

  “No, I was just ready to fit in properly. I’ve been holding onto Earth for too long.”

  “Okay.”

  “But I do miss you, Tiff.”

  “I miss you, too. Maybe we can—”

  The space surrounding the station suddenly became unfocused with the telltale appearance of a localized spatial distortion beginning to form.

  “We need that imaging now!” Wil shouted into the comm.

  “Tiff, something is happening!” Jason warned telepathically.

  The station began to vibrate. It took a second for Jason to realize that it wasn’t actually oscillating, but rather the structure was coming apart. Not pieces, but as if the individual molecules had released their bonds to one another and the thing was dissolving before his eyes.

  “Jas—” The telepathic link cut out. There was only emptiness where her presence had been moments before.

  He stood in horrified silence as the station dematerialized in the span of three seconds. Space was once again smooth and still.
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  Even after the structure was gone, as if it had never existed, no one spoke.

  “Tiff?”

  He reached out telepathically for her, but there was nothing outside the presence of those on the Conquest. The space where the station had been felt wrong. Empty. Reality dropped out from under him.

  She was gone. No…

  — — —

  What the fok? Fear gripped Wil in a way he’d never experienced. The hum of thousands of minds on the station had been extinguished in a moment. His immense abilities had always afforded him confidence that he could control a situation through force when diplomacy failed. But this… How is this even possible?

  Next to him, Jason gaped at the place on the screen where the station should be. “Wha…?” He slowly dropped to his knees.

  The blackness where the station had been somehow seemed darker than the surrounding space, though that was probably his imagination trying to cope with the sudden horror of it all. For a split second, Wil tried to reason that the station had been taken from this place and moved elsewhere—transported or transitioned outside visible spacetime. But he knew that wasn’t the case. It had been destroyed, utterly and completely. And, along with it, everyone on board. Including…

  Jason was staring silently at the spot on the viewscreen where his friend had been.

  His heart broke for his son. He was all too familiar with the agony of loss, and especially the feeling of being powerless to stop it. But there wasn’t time to grieve now.

  Wil snapped himself from his own shocked daze. “Curtis, back us up fifty thousand kilometers. Rianne, order all other ships to leave the area immediately, and then take a thorough scan of the vicinity—everything we’ve got.”

  “Aye,” they acknowledged.

  “Let me know as soon as the scan is complete.” He then added to Jason telepathically, “Hold it together. We’ll figure out what happened.”

  His son hadn’t moved from where he’d sunken to the deck. “Where’d they go?”

  “I don’t…” Wil faded out. He didn’t want to voice his thoughts that the station had been destroyed, because that would make it real.

  “That wasn’t a conventional weapon,” Curtis said to him telepathically.

  “It was like the molecular bonds gave out,” he agreed. “Perhaps at an even smaller level.”

  “Shite, all those people…” Curtis shook his head.

  Wil’s chest constricted with thoughts of the tragic loss of life. But the commander in him was focused on the larger issue. I don’t know if this is an enemy we can fight.

  Next to him, Jason’s brows were drawn together with fear and confusion. “Dad, what—”

  “Maybe you should go wait in the lounge,” Wil suggested. Once the shock wore off, Jason would realize his longtime friend and lover had been dematerialized along with the station. That wasn’t a scene he wanted to handle while in the Command Center.

  “I’m not going anywhere.” Jason rose to his feet, somehow maintaining composure despite the catastrophic loss.

  Wil couldn’t help feeling a swell of fatherly pride about the fine officer Jason was becoming; he knew many great soldiers who would have cracked. It was one thing to see strangers die, but losing a close loved one could send anyone over the edge.

  “We’ve got the results,” Rianne stated.

  “Are you sure you want to be here for this?” Wil confirmed with his son.

  Jason nodded. “I need to know.”

  “What’s the verdict, Rianne?”

  She took a shaky breath. “It’s as if the station was never there.”

  A sob caught in Jason’s throat and he turned away.

  Wil swore under his breath. “Open an external comm broadcast, all frequencies.”

  Rianne nodded when it was ready.

  He looked forward, resolute. “You’ve shown us what you can do, and we acknowledge your power. But a war is not in either of our interests. There’s no need for those losses. Let us find a way to maintain this longstanding peace.” He gestured with his hand to cut the broadcast.

  Wil resisted the urge to pace while they waited for a response.

  After a minute, none had come.

  Rianne gave Wil a nervous look over her shoulder. “Orders, sir?”

  This must have been a demonstration. And if they don’t want to talk, we’ll just make ourselves the next target. Bitter anger swelled in him, frustratingly without direction since their enemy had no face it was willing to show. He suspected they were out there, watching and waiting to see what they would do. Any action beyond the scan was likely to make matters worse.

  “Take us back to Headquarters,” he instructed.

  Jason wordlessly rushed from the Command Center.

  “Jump whenever you have a course, Curtis,” Wil called out as he followed his son out into the corridor.

  Jason hurried into the small conference room directly across the hall from the Command Center, used for strategy sessions. He made it halfway across the room before the tears came.

  “Jason, I’m so sorry,” Wil murmured.

  “She can’t be gone,” he stammered between choked breaths. “She…”

  Wil embraced his son and held him as he sobbed into his shoulder. He hadn’t seen Jason cry since he was a young teenager, and he’d always been thankful his children hadn’t needed to endure the grief of loss in their lives. Now, he wished he could do something to take his pain away.

  As they stood there together, the dark starscape transitioned to the ethereal light of subspace. For once, Wil was happy for the dampening effect of subspace on his abilities, lessening the emotional turmoil he sensed in Jason. While it wasn’t the same closeness of the bond he shared with his wife, he was more connected to his children than other people. Through that tie, he felt Jason’s raw grief, shock, and confusion about what had transpired, magnifying Wil’s own emotions. But he also sensed Jason’s strength and grounding. He would be okay.

  Eventually, Jason’s tears subsided and he pulled away to wipe his face. It was only then that Wil realized his own cheeks were wet.

  “I don’t think I ever told you, I had a complete breakdown in this room during the war. Right after we lost Cambion.” Wil let out a bitter chuckle. “I guess we should go ahead and label it a designated therapy space.”

  Jason managed a strangled laugh. “Good call.” He finished wiping his eyes.

  “I know there are no words that can make this better, so I’ll just say that I will always be here for you, no matter what.” He squeezed his shoulder.

  “Thanks.”

  Wil returned to the Command Center to allow Jason time to process on his own. He’d learned long ago that his son was like him in that way.

  While Wil knew many of the Agents who’d been stationed at the Alkeer outpost, none were more than acquaintances. The emotional distance allowed him to make an objective assessment of the issue at hand in terms of military response and security. The enemy hadn’t even shown its face, and yet they’d been able to un-make a massive structure in seconds. If that was possible, could they also destroy a planet? Or an entire system? The galaxy itself?

  He re-focused his thoughts to keep from going down an unproductive tangent. Address the here and now, what’s in your control.

  Rather than taking his seat in the Command Center, Wil headed for his office connected to the room. “I’m going to prepare a TSS-wide communication. Find us a good stop-off point half an hour from now so we can transmit the message.”

  “Will do,” Curtis acknowledged.

  The announcement that Wil needed to craft was the exact message he’d hoped to never have to deliver again. Death. Danger. Impending war. It was nasty business, but he was the TSS leader so it could only come from him.

  He first prepared a briefing with the full sensor data and visual record of the incident for his senior officers. They’d need to strategize about how to respond to the enemy action, and he wanted them to have all of the informatio
n he was working with.

  Next, he prepared a simplified brief for the High Council—little more than a statement that a TSS facility had been attacked and there was loss of life. His father, as the former High Commander, would read between the lines and help manage the council’s reaction. He’d wait to send that one until they were back at Headquarters, so he could be available to field the replies that would certainly come in right away. Since the Alkeer base was so remote, it was unlikely news outlets would get any notice of the destruction before then, buying a little time to formulate a response.

  The final message, to the TSS as a whole, was the most difficult for him. A few years ago, he’d given an address welcoming in a new era of peace and prosperity. These were supposed to be the good years where they could relax and celebrate their victories. Instead, he needed to tell them that they were in more danger than ever. Some of their friends and colleagues had already been killed by an enemy that didn’t yet have a face or name. He wanted to offer reassurances that they’d prevail and that he had a plan. But he couldn’t lie. Not to them.

  He crafted the statement as well as he could to underline the seriousness of their situation without causing a panic. There’d be questions, but the statement would buy time until they had devised an official response strategy.

  Beyond that, they’d need to notify next of kin. Saera could help with that; she always had a softer touch when it came to those sensitive matters.

  Once the communications were ready for sending, he stared out the viewport at the swirling light of subspace until the ship arrived at the waypoint. He sent off the messages to their respective recipients and then returned to the Command Center for the remainder of the journey.

  “Messages are sent. Let’s get home,” he said to Curtis.

  The Agent reinitiated the subspace jump at his front console. “What did you say in the communication?”

  “There has been an attack, and we’ve tragically lost many of our own,” Wil repeated from memory. “The exact nature of the enemy is unknown, but it’s clear they mean us harm. Despite our losses, we are still hoping to find a resolution that will keep us from war. However, we will respond with appropriate force at such time it becomes necessary. TSS Command is working on a coordinated response. Until you receive further instruction, remain vigilant.”