by DuBoff, Amy
“That’s all the more reason for your partner to be someone with more meaningful connections,” Reinen protested.
Wil met Reinen’s steely gaze. “The kind of support she offers to me has nothing to do with assets or politics. I bonded with Saera years ago because it was the one thing that could keep me sane. Asking me to walk away from her is the same as condemning me to failure.”
“Failure in what?” Alana asked.
They can’t be trusted with the truth. Not yet. “Performing my duty within the TSS. The specifics are irrelevant.”
Reinen scoffed. “What do you expect from me? Sympathy?” He shook his head. “I see the anger in your eyes, but I’m not to blame for whatever troubles you’re facing. If you want to be upset with anyone, it should be your father. He was the one to run off and join to the TSS, raise you there and get you wrapped up in this madness. I was trying to keep us all from such a life.”
Wil let out a little laugh. “I assure you, we all would have ended up with the TSS whether we chose to or not.” It was part of the master plan we can’t escape.
“None of this changes that you have a responsibility to Tararia. To this family,” Reinen said. “All I ever wanted was to keep us together.”
Cris stared down his father. “Then why do you insist on pushing us away?”
Reinen shook his head. “I’ve only tried to grasp onto what I can—doing right by this family, ensuring the prosperity of SiNavTech. When your brother died, we lost the future we’d envisioned. I needed something, anything, to keep me going. So, I latched onto the one constant I had: my duty to the Dynasty. I’ve been alone with that responsibility for almost three decades now, since you never took an interest. Every time I’ve tried to pull you in, you’ve run further away. I can’t bear that the family’s continued well-being is at stake.”
Wil took in his grandfather’s pained expression. I’d feel alone and betrayed in his position, too. I need to give a peace offering in terms he can understand. “Look, I may have responsibilities to the TSS that take priority, but I’m not abandoning this family. As a gesture of good faith, I will license a civilian version of the independent jump drive to you, as you requested—and without royalties. However, I must insist that we install some navigation safeguards to minimize the chance for operator error. I can’t have people getting lost in subspace on my conscience.”
“On the condition that I agree to you marrying Saera?” Reinen questioned.
“That’s happening with or without your blessing—I don’t need your permission,” Wil countered. “This offer is only to demonstrate that I do respect the Dynasty’s interests.”
“Technology is hardly a substitute for your involvement in the family’s interests,” his grandfather replied.
“Well, it’s all I can offer at the present,” Wil said. “If you want us involved in your life, finding common ground is the first step.”
Reinen eyed him. “Does this offer come with any additional conditions?”
Wil glanced at his father. “There’s still the issue of construction capacity for the TSS fleet. But I’ll ask you now as your grandson, not as a TSS officer. I am facing a nearly impossible task, and I need all the help I can get. It would make all the difference for the TSS to have the retired Prisaris shipyard.”
Reinen hesitated. “There are many political considerations with that sort of arrangement.”
“Getting the independent jump drive should be more than enough to buy the support of SiNavTech’s board members,” Wil pointed out.
Reinen took a moment to think through the proposition. “If that’s what it will take to get us working together toward a common goal, then I suppose I have no choice. I’ll make sure the other Dynasties won’t stand in the way of the TSS acquiring the shipyard.”
“Thank you.” Wil shook Reinen’s hand to seal the agreement.
Reinen turned his attention to Saera. “I apologize for my behavior. That was no way to treat you.”
“It’s okay,” Saera replied, somehow maintaining her poise. “What the hell was that?” she added telepathically to Wil.
“Sorry,” he responded. “Like I said, things are a little complicated around here.”
“I’ll say,” she replied.
“I hope this can be a new beginning for us.” Reinen took Saera by the hands. “Welcome to the family.”
CHAPTER 6
Every one of the young men had the same look of bewilderment on their face. They had arrived at TSS Headquarters along with the other Trainees, but had then been immediately pulled from their orientation groups and ushered into the training room on Level 11 where Wil now stood before them. Everyone was looking at him warily, their eyes darting while they shifted on their feet.
Wil evaluated them, studying the stance and expression of each person. He noted those who were taking the situation in stride and those who appeared most uncomfortable. It was apparent through their light gray training uniforms that most were already in decent physical shape, but there would still be a long way to go.
“You’re all probably wondering why you’re here,” Wil said, finally breaking the silence.
The men nodded, with varying levels of distress.
Wil smiled for a moment, trying to set them at ease. “Let’s start with an introduction. My name is Wil Sights. I am currently the sole Agent in the Primus Elite class.”
The men’s glances shifted between each other and Wil.
“I personally selected you twenty men out of thousands of candidates. I am going to train you as Primus Elite Agents.” Let that sink in for a minute.
The shifting glances changed to murmurs and gawks. “Is he serious?” “Primus Elite?” “Is that even a thing?”
Wil straightened and looked down the line levelly. “Normally, we’d give Trainees a year before they have to make a long-term training commitment. I need you to make that decision today.”
“Why?” asked a seventeen-year-old with light brown hair named Ian Mandren, his amber eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“Because the TSS is at war,” Wil replied. He pulled out his handheld and activated a holographic projection containing footage from the war in the rift. Ships under fire, planets burning in the aftermath of Bakzen attacks. Brutal and uncensored—the same images the Priesthood always took such lengths to hide. Wil stopped the video after two minutes.
The young men took it in with confusion and horror.
“Where is that?” Ian questioned.
“It can’t be real,” protested Tom Aldric, the youngest of the group. “Why are you showing us this?”
“It’s very real,” Wil stated. “A war is underway—just out of sight in a dimensional rift. Our enemy is the Bakzen. They have advanced capabilities to travel within the dimensional planes, and they have torn a rift in space beyond the outer territories. Select members of the TSS are told the truth and are brought into the conflict on the other side of the rift. They have been able to keep the enemy from reaching too far into normal space, but they will not be able to hold out for much longer.
“The Bakzen have been building their forces for centuries, preparing for an all-out onslaught against the entire Taran race. The nature of the conflict doesn’t matter—only that our complete and utter destruction is their singular goal. There is no longer hope for a diplomatic solution. It is simply our survival or theirs, and I have been charged with leading the Taran people to victory.” His gaze passed down the line of shocked faces struggling to make sense of what they’d just been told.
“The Bakzen?” Curtis Jaconis, a dark-haired eighteen-year-old, said. “Never heard of them.”
“And the Priesthood would like it to stay that way,” Wil replied. “Except, the Bakzen are coming for us. They are vicious and powerful, and if we don’t strike back with everything we can, there won’t be a world anywhere that’s safe from them.”
“What does any of that have to do with us?” Ian asked.
Wil clasped his hands behind his
back. “Because to win this fight we need a new approach. I stand before you as the future Supreme Commander of the TSS. I have been tasked with training a group of elite commanders and pilots who will be able to do what no one else can. But I don’t have time to waste on quitters. Anyone who’s with me needs to be all-in from Day One. Today. I know you have next to no information to go on—it’s a leap of faith and I’m asking you to take my words at face value. But I picked you because you are the best of the best. You can help me win this fight.”
Many of the men took shaky breaths and focused on the metal floor.
All of them are too smart to go along with this. But maybe there’s just enough crazy in there to sway them to join me. “I can promise you this: training with me will make you the strongest, best Agent you can possibly be. If you’re serious about being in the TSS and making this your career, this group is the place to be. Anyone who joins me will train outside of normal TSS training channels on an accelerated timeline. I’ll push you to your limits and beyond. Other groups train together, but ultimately the instructors are looking for the star individuals to emerge. This group will be different. We need to be a team from the beginning. We need to trust each other implicitly—know each person’s strengths, weaknesses, and how we fit together as a unit. You all have enormous telekinetic potential, but moreover, you have the brains and heart that will keep me grounded as a leader.”
“So you’re saying you want us to train as officers to fight in a secret war against a vastly superior enemy?” Curtis asked.
“That’s right,” Wil said with a grimace. “Some get to choose their role, but mine was assigned. It’s a shite job, but someone has to do it. Can I count on you to help me?”
The silence in the room was palpable. The men all stared at the floor or the walls in introspection.
Wil’s chest constricted. Don’t make me beg. I can’t do this alone.
Finally, one man raised his head and looked Wil square in the eye. He was close to Wil’s height and had medium-brown hair and light blue eyes that shone with insight and comprehension. “I’m in.”
Wil instantly recognized the man as Michael Andres. Saera was right about him. “Thank you,” Wil said with genuine gratitude. “Who else?”
“So am I.”
“Me too.”
One by one, the other men joined Michael in the resolution to support Wil in his mission. They quivered slightly from restrained nerves, but they set their jaws and stood ready for direction.
Wil smiled, both from relief and gratefulness. I have a team now. We can do this together. “Now, it doesn’t take a telepath to tell that you’re wondering how I came to be in this singularly unique position of being the sole Primus Elite Agent.”
Several men nodded confirmation.
“Well, the short answer is that I was born into it. Both of my parents are Agents. My father is Cris Sights, Lead Agent of this TSS Headquarters, and my mother is Kate Sights. I grew up here at Headquarters and entered the training program when I was twelve. I graduated at sixteen with a CR of 13.7 and have been waiting for this day ever since. I’m only nineteen now—barely older than some of you—but I am the only person to have spent time face-to-face with the Bakzen and lived to tell about it.”
Someone raised his hand. Wil recognized him as Ethan Samlier, a blonde seventeen-year-old from Tararia’s Second Region. He had exceptional piloting ability and an estimated CR of 8.9. When Wil nodded his consent for the question, Ethan said, “Excuse me, sir, did you say 13.7?”
“Yes, I did,” Wil replied, unruffled. But your inexperience means you’re latching onto the wrong thing—surviving an encounter with the Bakzen is far more remarkable.
“I thought the CR scale only went to 10,” Ethan added.
“Just because no one ever scored above 10 before doesn’t mean that was the cap,” countered Wil.
Ethan seemed unsure what to say. “Okay. Well, a 13.7... That’s an extremely high limit.”
I need to give them some perspective. “I didn’t say that was my limit. That’s the CR I obtained.”
“But I thought the entire purpose of the Course Rank test was to document limits?” Ethan tried to clarify.
“Usually, yes,” Wil confirmed. “But I broke the testing sphere, so I guess we won’t know what I can really do until we’re in battle.” I’m scared to see what I’m capable of.
“Wait, you broke the testing sphere?” Curtis asked incredulously.
Wil nodded. “Yes, it cracked at 13.7, so they stopped the exam.”
“So... what’s your limit, then?” Ian asked.
“I don’t know,” Wil confessed. “If I have one, I haven’t found it yet. All I can tell you is that my CR exam was three years ago, and I’m stronger now than I was then.”
“The Cadicle,” Ethan breathed.
“That’s what they tell me.”
“What does that mean?” Tom asked meekly. He was barely sixteen-years-old and had a thin frame with a dark complexion. Though he appeared frail compared to some of the older Trainees, unlike most others he had the rare potential to score above a CR of 9.
“It means that you should listen to me when I give you instruction because I know what I’m talking about,” Wil retorted with a hint of sarcasm, though most of the men seemed too nervous to see it as lighthearted humor.
“We will,” affirmed Ethan. “The Priesthood has foretold the coming of the Cadicle for thousands of years. To many, your presence will signal the beginning of a new age for Tarans.”
A foretelling the Priesthood was all too eager to help realize through any means necessary. “Please don’t misinterpret the title. I’m not a special icon or miraculous incarnation. I’m a mortal man with my own hopes and desires just like you. What I do, I do because I must. I probably wouldn’t have chosen this life if I’d had another option, so I’m just trying to make the most of the role I was handed.”
Most of the men seemed dumbfounded by Wil’s blunt honesty. He had all that power, but he’d give it up if he could? It was easy for them to think that way without knowing the true burden of the responsibility.
Once they see the toll it takes on me, then they’ll understand. Wil looked from face to face. They all seemed so young and innocent. Was there ever a time I lived without the weight that I carry now? A twinge of sadness struck his heart. I’m going to ruin them. I’m going to show them the darkest, evil nature of people and they’ll be changed forever.
“Tell us what to do,” Michael said at last. “We’ll support you in any way we can.”
There were murmurs of agreement down the line.
Already they’re keeping me on course. “Okay, let’s see what all of you can do. Form a straight line a pace out from that far wall.” Wil pointed to the wall across the room from him, and the men lined up as he’d instructed. “Good. Take a step forward if you’ve had any hand-to-hand combat training, even if it was just as a kid.”
All but three of the men took a step forward.
“Now, take a step forward if you’ve ever had any marksmanship training.”
Twelve men took a step forward, including one of the three with no combat training.
“Take another step if you’ve studied navigation or applied mathematics.”
Eighteen men took a step forward.
“Take another step if you have any piloting experience—actually behind the controls, not just navigation theory.”
Six men took a step.
“Now,” Wil instructed, “go back to the starting wall if this is your first day with the TSS.”
Everyone returned to their starting place.
“Did you get anything out of that exercise?” He looked down the line of Trainees.
“We all bring things from the outside, but we’re all starting from the same place here,” Ian answered for the group.
“Very good. Now, break into teams of four.” While they sorted out their teams, Wil went to a door on the wall behind him, which concealed a storage
compartment that contained five identical boxes. The boxes were unlabeled, approximately half a meter cubes. “In each of these boxes is a puzzle. I want each team to work together to assemble it.” Wil handed out the boxes.
Each team started pulling out the pieces of their three-dimensional puzzle. The pieces all looked remarkably similar, with no distinguishing color or marks—plastic blocks, matte copper in color. The men eyed him skeptically.
“Oh yeah, and pick someone on your team to blindfold. Only he is allowed to touch the pieces,” Wil added.
No one seemed pleased with the order, but each team picked someone to blindfold and the others began giving instructions to lay out the pieces so they could figure out how everything fit together. It took some time, but eventually each team was able to construct a square-based pyramid out of the pieces. Next, Wil split the men into three groups and ordered them to form human pyramids of six people by arranging themselves on their hands and knees, doing so while everyone was blindfolded except for two instructors. It was haphazard and awkward, but they pulled it off. Afterward, Wil had them break into groups of five and he gave them each a tablet from the storage compartment. They had to work together on a specified problem of how to most effectively move some cargo from Point A to Point B while avoiding several pitfalls. Some teams came up with distinctly better solutions than others, but the exercise fulfilled the intended purpose of allowing group dynamics to unfold.
Wil evaluated everyone as they ran through each of the exercises. He knew all of their personality and capability profiles by heart, and he was pleased to see that everyone was performing just as he’d hoped. In the end, four individuals stood out from the others: Ethan Samlier, Michael Andres, Curtis Jaconis, and Ian Mandren. They had some of the highest CR potential, but they also proved to be the most natural leaders; the other men were already looking to them for validation. They will be my Captains. I’ll groom them, and once they’ve already gained respect from everyone else, I’ll make it official.
