by Amy DuBoff
“I agree that it’s best to keep it confidential.”
“My men know I’m keeping something from them. They keep pushing me.”
“They’re a perceptive group,” Banks replied, cracking a slight smile.
“Yes. Annoyingly so, sometimes.”
Banks examined him. “How close are you to completing their training?”
Wil cast his eyes down. That’s not what he’s really asking… I’d never engage them in this battle if I had a choice. “They’ve honed their skills, but a lot of what they know is still only theory.”
“Then we’ll need to get them some real-world experience.”
“How? There’s no facility here that could possibly help us prepare any more than we already have.”
“Not here, perhaps,” the High Commander replied, “but H2 is set up for that very purpose.”
“It’s that time, isn’t it?” I can’t avoid the war any longer.
“Everyone will be here to help you, Wil. We’ll win.”
* * *
While the conversation had been strained, Banks was relieved that at least Wil was talking to him again. He had enough to worry about without the added concern of infighting within the TSS.
Events were once again converging, as so often seemed the case. Wil’s new ability marked a turning point in the war, necessitating that the Primus Elites be deployed as soon as possible. That would leave Banks with some time to investigate the other matter that had been bothering him for the past few weeks.
The words of the Aesir Oracle were still fresh in his mind—a cryptic message about a Dainetris heir who had survived the dynasty’s fall more than one hundred years prior. A legitimate heir could have immeasurable influence on the future of Taran politics, shifting the balance of power. So long as the Priesthood remained in their position of absolute control over communications among the Taran worlds and had the final say in all policy decisions, there would be no way to make any meaningful changes without the added influence of a seventh High Dynasty. However, the return of the Dainetris Dynasty would not only remove the Priesthood from its present position as a tie-breaking vote, but the reemergence might also unveil what had brought about the dynasty’s downfall. If Banks’ instincts were correct, the Priesthood was to blame, but he knew them well enough to be certain they would protect their secrets at any cost. If a Dainetris heir had survived, the Priesthood must have a reason for permitting it.
Unfortunately, hunches weren’t useful. Banks still had a job to do. Before anything else, there was a war to win.
The latest report from High Commander Taelis at H2 in the rift suggested a new Bakzen offensive. Wil’s recent mastery of simultaneous observation had come just in time.
Banks set aside his thoughts about the Dainetris Dynasty and instructed the computer to call Taelis via the viewscreen.
The other High Commander answered after a minute, appearing agitated, as usual. “Jason, hi. Do you need something?”
“No, I wanted to give you some good news.”
Taelis grunted. “I could use it.”
“I just got confirmation from Wil that he has achieved simultaneous observation.”
Onscreen, Taelis froze with surprise. “He has?”
Banks nodded. “Just yesterday. It’s hard to believe this day has finally come, but I’ve reviewed the training log myself.”
“We really needed this. Now more than ever.”
“Yes… it sounds like conditions are deteriorating.”
Taelis slumped. “We don’t know what’s causing it, Jason. A whole group of people on Kaldern spontaneously started voicing support for the Bakzen and attacked the planetary shield generators.”
“Civilians?”
“Yes, and a whole lot of them. People who should hate the Bakzen after what they’ve been through—their homeworlds destroyed.”
That’s concerning, indeed. “People snap sometimes,” Banks speculated.
“No, this was more than that,” Taelis countered. “The video footage is unnerving. It was like they were in a trance.”
“Brainwashing?”
“Or telepathic influence. Except, we have no way to stop it until we know the root cause.”
“All the more reason to move forward with our end strategy.”
Taelis inclined his head. “Yes, Wil and his officers should come here as soon as possible.”
“Agreed, but they need some field experience before they’re sent into battle,” Banks cautioned. “Everything is all out of sequence.”
Taelis narrowed his eyes. “What are you hung up on—an internship?”
Banks nodded. “In part. And completion of the other Junior Agent testing protocols.”
Taelis gave a dismissive flip of his wrist. “Just promote them. We don’t have time to waste on all that.”
“Is it wasting time to make sure they won’t break under the pressure?”
“Even seasoned Agents can break.”
“I’m just not sure they should be in the field yet,” Banks insisted. “They’re untested and can make mistakes. Are we really willing to take that risk?”
“Jason, I don’t think you understand what we’re facing here. We need to end this now. Promote them.”
Banks sighed. “It will require approvals. I’ll let you know as soon as I get confirmation.” He ended the transmission. There was no doubt that the Priesthood would heartily agree, but it was the perfect conversation starter for the question related to his other research.
Without delay Banks instructed CACI to contact the Priesthood. He paced in front of the viewscreen as he waited for the call to connect.
The lifelike image of the Priest robed in black appeared onscreen. “Do you have news?”
“More of a question,” replied Banks. “We have reached a pivotal time. Do we bring in the Primus Elite group now, or wait until they have had a chance to complete the formal training program?”
“What still remains?”
“Internships and formal CR testing, mostly.”
The Priest shook his head. “Protocol means little now. The war must end, through whatever means necessary. You know your task—there’s no need for our approval.”
Just as I suspected. Now time for the real question. “Understood. Since I have you, there is one other matter on an unrelated topic.”
“Yes?”
“Were there any survivors to the Dainetris Dynasty?”
The Priest’s red eyes widened, but he quickly returned to his typical stoic composure. He took a moment to respond. “The Dainetris Dynasty fell.”
That wasn’t a very conclusive answer. “But were there any survivors after the fall?”
The Priest’s eyes narrowed. “We have far too many urgent matters in the present to think about the past. Finish preparing the TSS forces and end the war.” He terminated the video feed.
Banks had known the Priest for far too long to misinterpret the abrupt end to the conversation. There was at least one Dainetris survivor, and the Priesthood didn’t want them found. So they keep secrets even from me. Banks knew all about secrets—after all, knowing how to keep his own was the first step toward uncovering the secrets kept by others. And he had learned from the best.
* * *
The resourcefulness of the Bakzen never ceased to amaze Arron Haersen. Turning Tarans into Bakzen drones—it was nothing short of brilliant. Refugees from Aleda and Grolen had so easily been transformed into the Bakzen’s tools on Kaldern, saying and doing anything their telepathic commands demanded. The latest demonstration was only a test, but it made for a powerful example of future possibilities. With the first phase complete, they could now move on to the real test with the Kaldern survivors.
“That was entirely too easy,” Tek said through his smirk. He paused the video playback of the riot on Kaldern prior to the Bakzen invasion. The viewscreen on the side wall of the Imperial Director’s office dimmed.
“It’s no doubt the procedure works,” Haersen re
plied. “The question is, how do we get enough individuals under the influence of our neurotoxin to converge on Tararia? We need to take out their central government before we can execute the next stage on a broad scale.”
“We will have to cut a path to Tararia—one they won’t notice until it’s too late.” Tek rose from his desk and turned around to stare out the broad window along the back wall overlooking the plaza outside the primary administrative building for the Bakzen Empire.
His response could only mean one thing. “They’re ready?”
Tek nodded. “Right on schedule.”
A slow smile spread across Haersen’s angular face. It had taken nearly a decade to mature and train the Bakzen hybrid clones spliced with Wil’s genetic code; they were free of the natural ability inhibitor found in all others. If their conditioning was complete, then the Bakzen would finally have the necessary means to rip covert rift corridors directly to Tararia, giving them a direct route that would bypass the need for navigation beacons, and thereby make their approach undetectable.
“Perfect timing,” Haersen informed his new commander. “The TSS is on the move.”
General Tek perked up with interest. “What news have you heard?”
“There are rumors that the TSS is about to bring the Dragon into the war. We will finally get our chance.”
“How easy it will be to bait him,” agreed Tek. “I can only imagine he’s still reeling from his meeting with the Aesir, after the truth he must have discovered when he looked into the void.”
“He’ll be distracted and eager to latch onto any hope he can find.”
Tek nodded. “But if our first plan doesn’t work, we will simply exploit his sympathetic Taran mind—have him deliver us Tararia.”
Haersen clenched his fist, strengthened through years of gene therapy to mold him into a new version of himself. “Such weakness.”
Tek’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t forget, not so long ago, you were one of them.”
“I saw the true way,” Haersen countered. Since joining the Bakzen, it had been a constant struggle to affirm his loyalty. The failed assassination of Wil had been an enormous setback, and he knew that it was only his detailed understanding of TSS procedures that kept him alive. He hoped that knowledge would enable the Bakzen to win the war.
“Words are hollow. What more can you give us now?”
Haersen looked down. “I have no more details at this time, sir.”
“Then be gone.” Tek made a dismissive wave of his hand.
Haersen bobbed his head and turned to leave. Tek wasn’t a gracious leader, but he was fair—not subject to the domineering and favoritism found in the TSS. He had remained true to his word with Haersen, and that spoke for itself. Though Haersen hadn’t yet achieved equal footing with the Bakzen, it was almost time to make a new future where anything was possible.
CHAPTER 3
Wil bolted upright in bed, gasping. The horrific images were already fading from his mind, but his heart still raced from what only moments before had been a vivid reality.
Saera roused next to him. “Wil, are you okay?”
“Yeah, it was just a dream.”
“You haven’t been sleeping well.” The concern on Saera’s face was evident, even in the subtle light cast from her jade eyes.
“Ever since I got back from meeting the Aesir. Something similar happened after my first encounter with the Bakzen. I don’t know if it’s just stress dreams, or a premonition.” Envisioning the destruction of the Bakzen by my hand… All my fears and doubts.
“Either way, you should try to get back to sleep. I’ll be right here with you.” She lay down and placed a reassuring hand on Wil’s arm.
If only that were still enough to help me sleep through the night. “I know.” Wil stayed upright.
After a moment, Saera sat back up. “What’s on your mind?”
“It’s all about to start. My entire life has been looking toward the future, but now it’s almost time for action.”
“You’re ready. You’ve been ready for a long time.”
“Maybe for too long. There’s been so much anticipation and build-up, I’m afraid I’m going to overthink everything and fail.”
“No, Wil, you’re prepared to face whatever comes.”
If only success didn’t come at such a high price. “Thank you for standing by me.”
“Of course. Always.”
“Having you with me these last few years… it’s given me a reason to keep going.”
“We have a lot more to look forward to.”
Wil lay down and put his arm around her. If I only have a few moments left to myself before the war begins, this is how I want to spend them.
*
It had been a good practice session, but Wil was tired and anxious to be finished for the day; the lack of quality sleep was taking a toll.
As he exited the gravity lock from the zero-G practice chamber with his trainees, Wil’s handheld buzzed in his pocket. Ugh, what now? There was a message from Banks, with instructions to meet him in his office. Great.
“Have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Wil said to his men and then headed toward the central elevator.
He took his time in transit, dreading what the meeting could be about. After their last conversation the previous afternoon, it was only a matter of time before he would be called upon to fulfill his duty. He wanted to savor every final moment of freedom.
Wil’s fears were confirmed as soon as he stepped into Banks’ office. The High Commander was standing at the back of the room, staring at a holopainting of a mountain landscape. He turned as Wil entered, his expression tense—almost sad.
Wil closed the door. “It’s time, isn’t it?”
Banks nodded.
Wil took a deep breath. “When do we leave?”
“Two days.”
Wil leaned against the back of the couch at the center of the office. “What about my men? They haven’t completed the training protocol.”
Banks came forward a few steps to stand across from Wil. “They’ll participate in a working internship, then graduate in the field under the auspice of a senior officer.”
“Yes, sir.” We’re going to war. All the formality doesn’t matter anymore.
“Saera will accompany you, of course. And your parents will be on the Vanquish.”
“The Vanquish is going, too? You’ve already dispatched the other warships. Doesn’t that leave Headquarters rather exposed?”
“We have to go all in.”
“But—”
“Wil, you have to focus on the frontlines. Let me worry about what happens here.”
“Okay.” Wil pushed off the couch.
“Try to take some time to get rested up over the next couple days. You’ll be thrown into the middle of things when you arrive at H2.”
The headquarters beyond the rift… it’s been so long. “It’s bad over there, isn’t it?”
Banks nodded. “They’ve been suffering heavy casualties. We would have given the Elites normal internships, if we could, but…”
They’re desperate. “I’ll do what I can.”
“Taelis has saved the last wave of resources for you.” Banks swallowed. “However, if things don’t go well, there’s not a lot of backup.”
“I always knew I’d be part of the endgame. We’ll do our job as quickly as possible.”
“I have absolute faith in you and your team.”
“You always have.” Wil paused. “How does it feel now to be giving this order? Your entire career has been for this.”
Banks came around the couch. “I’m so very proud of you, Wil. I know what you’ve been through over the years, and the truth you bear over the nature of the war and what we’re up against. You have taken it all with such strength and grace. You embody everything a leader should be, and if you can’t navigate us to an end of this war, then no one can. I’m just honored to have had the privilege of knowing you.”
Wil’
s throat tightened. “I couldn’t have become that kind of person without you.” In one motion, Wil stepped forward and embraced Banks—something he hadn’t done since he was a child.
Banks was caught by surprise, but hugged him back. “Take care of yourself.”
“You too.” He’s watching over the only home I’ve ever had. If I make it through this, I’ll want it waiting for me.
With a resolute nod, Wil left Banks’ office and trudged to his quarters. He found it empty and dark; Saera’s class must have run late. He let out a slow breath and eased down onto the couch in the living room.
For nearly twenty-five years—his entire life—he had been coached and trained for an event in the distant future. It had all started to feel much more real once he had begun training his officers, but now, having a tangible departure date a mere two days away, changed his entire perception.
He sat in the dark, trying to come to terms with what lay ahead. As his mind wandered, he lost track of time and was startled by a flood of light when the front door opened.
Saera paused in the doorway when she saw Wil blinking in the sudden brightness. “Hey. Did I wake you?” She closed the door behind her.
“No, I was just sitting here.”
“Tough day?”
Wil took a deep breath. “I just talked to Banks. We depart for H2 in two days.”
Saera dropped onto the couch next to Wil. “So soon?”
“Desperate times.”
“Are you doing okay?”
“No.”
“Wil—”
“No, please, don’t. There’s nothing you can say.” Wil fought against the burn in his eyes for a moment but then submitted to the emotion.
Saera held Wil’s head to her chest as the tears silently rolled down his cheeks and soaked into her shirt. The years of stress and anticipation streamed away in the quiet moment. Wil relished in the warm comfort of Saera’s embrace, thankful for a safe place where he could be vulnerable and didn’t need to put on a strong front. For a few moments, he could just be a young man who was scared of going to war.
When his tears were dry and his breathing was easy again, Wil sat back up on the couch. “On the plus side, this means we can finally crack into the stash of pomoliqueur left over from the wedding.” Hardly consolation, but I’ll take it.
