by A. K. DuBoff
Raena beamed the moment her face materialized in the holoprojection. “Jason! I wish you were here.” She stuck out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout.
Behind her, his parents, grandfather, and Ryan waved.
“Good to see you,” Cris said.
Jason smiled. “Looks like you’re having quite the party!” He hadn’t spent appreciable time with his grandfather, so there wasn’t much closeness in the relationship in the way he had with his parents. While he was used to things being the way they were, he couldn’t help but feel like he was missing out by not being on Tararia for the gathering.
“We spent a good portion of the morning digging through a musty basement. It’s not as glamorous as it seems,” his mother said.
“But wine!” Raena grinned. She was definitely a little tipsy; he wasn’t used to seeing her that way.
“Rough day?” he asked her.
She took a gulp from her glass before replying. “Oh, wait until you hear the story about what they found!”
Jason perked up. “Did you find what you were looking for?” he asked his parents.
“Yes, we got the treaty,” his father replied. “Along with another unpleasant discovery.”
“Stars! You actually found it?”
“Yes, and we confirmed that it’s the Gate tech usage that was prohibited. There’s more documentation we’re still evaluating. I’ll fill you in when we get home. Everything okay there?”
“Yep, nothing to report.”
Wil nodded. “Good. Well, we’ll be heading back first thing in the morning. Let’s touch base early-afternoon.”
“Okay.”
“You really need to come visit once this situation is under control.” Raena’s brows drew together. “I miss all of us being together.”
Jason smiled. “I’m ready for a vacation. No arm-twisting needed.”
“Thanks for holding down the fort. We’ll see you soon,” his father said.
“Anything I should do to prepare, now that you’ve found the treaty?” Jason asked.
“Rest up while you can. This is just the beginning.”
CHAPTER 10
Analysis of the treaty text was well underway by the time Wil and Saera returned to TSS Headquarters. The flight back gave him ample time to review the translation their researchers had made overnight, and the findings were both helpful and confounding.
On the one hand, it became clear why the Gatekeepers had been so upset about the use of their Gate technology, since it was explicitly prohibited in the text. However, they still didn’t know why that technology presented such an issue. The Engineering team was conducting another review of the scan data from the Gate sphere from when it had been in the TSS’ possession, so there was little he could do but wait for their report.
Meanwhile, Wil took the opportunity to fill Jason in on what they’d learned, and Jason gave a report about what he’d been up to while Wil and Saera were away. It was good to hear that Jason had thought ahead about sharing the Conquest with his students; the IT-series fighters that used the same direct neural link would be an important piece of the TSS’ defense against a transdimensional threat, so now was the right time to introduce them to the technology.
When he’d finished the recounting, Jason fell silent with a contemplative look Wil recognized, meaning there was something else on his mind.
“What?” Wil prompted.
Jason sighed. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the Rift… with Tiff heading out that way, you know.”
Wil nodded.
“I dunno. It might be nothing, but I keep wondering what the Andvari was doing out near the Rift at all,” Jason continued. “I wasn’t going to bring it up, but I was thinking it might be ancillary to the unrest that’s going on in the Outer Colonies.”
“Why?”
“Something Darin said about how the job came through. Nothing solid to go on, just…”
“I get hunches, too. I know how it goes.” Wil straightened in his seat. “Well, I maintain that dealing with that civil disruption is the Guard’s domain, but we’d be remiss to withhold information from our investigation into the Andvari that might relate to their peacekeeping efforts.”
“Exactly.”
Wil steepled his fingers. “What are your thoughts on the matter?”
Jason shrugged. “In terms of why the ship was out there, the easiest answer is that everyone’s trying to make a living. It’s harder in the Outer Colonies than most places.”
“But going through an off-limits former war zone?”
“A rich harvest for someone willing to take the risk.”
“There are a lot of easier places to get scrap metal.”
“It’s not just scrap metal though, is it? Aren’t there whole ships out there?” Jason asked.
“Well, pieces of them, anyway.”
“Okay, so first of all, we’re talking about TSS wreckage here. The tridillium in the hulls alone is worth a ton. Then there’s the drives.”
“Jump drives are notoriously fragile,” Wil pointed out. “If one of the prongs breaks, which they often did in battle, it’s easier to manufacture a new one than effect repairs.”
“I didn’t mean those. The energy cores.”
Wil considered the suggestion. “That’s true. The distribution cells are valuable and usually well-protected, so they often survive when a ship is damaged. And the PEMs themselves…” Most starship components sported a high price tag in secondhand markets, but the Perpetual Energy Modules at the center of every vessel’s operation were prized for their versatility. Powering everything on ships from the jump drive to subspace communications, PEMs also had numerous applications on space stations or planetside to support all manner of offensive, defensive, and general operational needs.
“I can think of a lot of good uses for a robust PEM in the Outer Colonies,” his son said. “But the circumstances don’t add up for this being a pirate operation, especially since Darin indicated that they had a salvage contract with Renfield.”
“Ah, I’d meant to follow up on that lead but haven’t had time yet.”
Jason raised an eyebrow. “That’s why you have a team. You can ask for help, you know.”
I’ve always been bad about that. Wil smiled. “And rob you of the opportunity to take the initiative?”
“Uh huh, sure, Dad. Anyway, I did some digging while you were on Tararia. Turns out that Renfield was working as an intermediary… for MPS.”
“Monsari?” Wil’s smile faded.
“Not directly, of course. But the chain of subcontracts can be traced to Monsari Power Solutions corporate. That’s weird, right?”
“Very.” Wil folded his hands on the desktop. “High Dynasties always exert minimum effort in their dealings. They’re so wealthy, their business models are based on speed and efficiency. So, ordering a salvage from a remote location like this goes against all of those things.”
“Typically, I’d suggest that this was a clean-up effort to hide something,” Jason said.
“Eliminating evidence of a past dealing out there, perhaps?”
His son shrugged. “I can’t imagine it would be related to anything tracing back as far as the war. They’ve had decades to address it, if that was the concern.”
“And MPS had very little involvement in the war. Aside from the TSS purchasing power cores.”
Jason sat in quiet thought. “Unless…” he said, barely above a whisper.
“What?”
His son shook his head. “No, never mind.”
“I brought you in because I wanted another perspective. Please, share.”
“I was thinking, if MPS’ only tie to the wreckage in that area is the power cores, then that, logically, is what they were after. And, following your statement that the High Dynasties always take the most efficient path, then that would mean that all other avenues would have been exhausted already. So, either they want the power cores themselves, or they need some component from the cores.”
>
“It doesn’t make sense, though. Out there?”
“You’ve said thousands of ships were destroyed over the centuries, right? The Kryon Nebula is a cosmic graveyard—everything in the region works its way toward there. At a certain point, salvage does become an easier endeavor than mining.”
“Not the way they have mining operations set up. The ore goes straight from the mines to the refineries and production plants.”
“So long as those mines are producing, at least.”
“That’s never been a concern.” Wil faltered. “In the past, anyway.”
Jason gave a slight shrug. “Like I said, it might not mean anything.”
The situation defied conventional logic. Monsari was one of the most powerful of the High Dynasties, with resources to rival those of Sietinen and SiNavTech. In fact, since SiNavTech had relinquished its ship manufacturing division to its rightful Dainetris ownership, the argument could be made that Monsari now held the most power. After all, everyone needed energy cores.
Everyone needs them… The civilization had always operated under the assumption that there would be an endless supply of cores to fuel the Taran Empire’s expansion. Wil had fallen into that same mindset, having no evidence to suggest otherwise. Perhaps, though, that hadn’t been the correct assumption.
“What if they can’t keep up?” He met his son’s gaze. “After all, we hit a production capacity limit for starships during the war. There’s no reason energy core manufacturing would be any less restricted.”
“So, they’re trying to salvage old cores?”
“It would be an easy way to keep up with demand in the less sophisticated markets that wouldn’t know old from new. I mean, an old core really shouldn’t make a difference.”
“Even those from a critically damaged ship?”
He thought about it a little more. “I should say, in most cases it wouldn’t make a difference. But MPS has a reputation to uphold, so I’m not overly concerned about safety. Regardless, I don’t want to make any accusations without allowing MPS the opportunity to explain their actions.”
“Going to them offers the opportunity for them to sweep it under the rug if there’s anything shady going on.”
“It does, but the TSS is already in a precarious enough position politically. If we’re wrong about this, it could damage our standing.”
“Go through Ryan, perhaps?” Jason suggested.
“I don’t know that he’s cozy enough with Monsari yet to get an honest answer from them. I’d say my dad would have enough sway, but DGE does significantly more business with MPS than SiNavTech does.”
“It’s your call. Either it’s a business matter or a public safety one.”
“When you put it in those terms, it’s our TSS responsibility to see it through.”
“I suppose it is.”
Wil nodded. “An exploratory call will be very telling.”
— — —
Jason had hoped that his father would dismiss his hunch about the Andvari being connected to a larger issue. They had enough going on already. But, if it was connected to the civil unrest or an issue with one of the High Dynasties being unable to fulfill their duty, then it was an important lead to chase down. People did crazy things when they felt cornered and desperate. The Andvari venturing into a forbidden former war zone on an off-the-books contract may be a symptom of the greater sickness they were trying to root out.
He could hardly believe how much had changed about the outlook for the Empire in just a few days. There had been peace for years. Prosperity. Hope. As far as he knew, no one had seen this kind of unrest coming.
With a twinge in his chest, Jason realized this was the kind of time when he would have messaged Tiff to meet up and talk about everything that was going on. Wait, why should now be any different? Either we’re still friends or we’re not. Sure, the physical aspect of their relationship had ended, and some emotional intimacy would go along with it, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t vent to each other about life’s bad moments. The sooner they could establish a rapport under the new normal, the better.
He typed out a message on his handheld. >>Hey! I hope you’re settling in okay. Don’t feel pressured to respond, just wanted to wish you the best.<<
To his surprise, he got a response right away. >>Available for a video chat?<<
>>Sure.<<
His screen lit up with an incoming vidcall. He accepted it on the holographic display.
An image of Tiff appeared, a light in her eyes as she brushed her hair behind her ear. “I had been wondering if you would show up at the port anyway.”
He shrugged. “I was just passing through.”
She flashed a coy smile. “I’m glad the timing worked out. It was perfect.”
“You know, if you wanted me to see you off, you could have just asked.”
“Nah. It’s better to know you care.”
“Tiff, of course I do. You’re one of my best friends, no matter what.”
She beamed. “You too. I was afraid… things would change.”
“Of course it will. But I’m never going to stop caring.”
“I won’t, either.”
They could be happy together, he knew. Their relationship had a more solid foundation than a lot of marriages he’d witnessed growing up. Nonetheless, there would always be something missing there. That romantic spark that elevated a couple from good partnership to one where life would become meaningless without one another. It was a rare, powerful thing; Jason had seen it up close with the couples in his immediate family, so he knew it was possible. He’d never particularly aspired to have that for himself, but if he was going to commit to someone for life, that’s what it would take. To stay with Tiff would mean closing off the possibility of either of them finding that kind of connection for themselves. They were too young and had too much life ahead of them to settle for anything less.
“This distance thing is going to take some getting used to,” he admitted.
“Yeah, I know.” She sighed. “It… it is what it is.”
“You don’t have to explain, Tiff. I get it. I feel it, too. I just don’t want to see anything come between our friendship. So, just like you did what needed to be done, I’m here now making sure we push through until this is no longer awkward.”
She laughed softly. “Okay, thank you. So, uh… how are things?”
“Oh, nothing unusual. Trying to figure out how to prevent an alien invasion and simultaneous collapse of the Empire. Everyday stuff.”
“Nice. About what I expected. Glad things haven’t fallen apart without me.”
“Yeah, who would have guessed you being at Headquarters was the singular thing holding the Empire together? The day you decide to leave… BAM!” Too bad he was only half-joking.
“I think the civilization will recover.”
“At least, if it doesn’t, we won’t be around to worry about it anymore.”
Her eyebrows drew together in concern. “Are you doing okay?”
“I’m not projecting relationship woes on the galactic state of the Empire, if that’s what you’re asking. There’s serious shite going on.”
Tiff grinned. “Hey, look at you! Swearing like a proper Taran now, huh?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I’m working on it.”
“But in all seriousness, I know you’ll find a way to beat whatever fokers are trying to take down the Empire. The High Commander is foking Wil Sietinen—the guy who won an unwinnable war and solved the unsolvable equation for subspace travel. You’re his son, and you’re every bit as capable. If I had to put money on a team who could do the impossible, it would be you.”
“I’ll try not to let you down.”
“I know you won’t.”
It wasn’t much of a pep talk, but it had eased some of the heaviness in his chest. “Thanks, Tiff.”
“Anytime.” She grinned.
“Now, I want to hear all about your new post.”
— — —
>
Is it possible MPS is in trouble? Wil had always placed faith in the stability of the High Dynasties. It was the foundation of the Taran Empire, really. They were a monolith of society. Dynastic heirs were raised from infancy to be effective leaders. The services the family members and their corporations provided were the cornerstones of the civilization’s operations.
Wil’s position in the TSS had kept him away from the politics on Tararia for the most part, especially once Raena had stepped in as Cris’ official scion. Therefore, his relationships with the Taran elite were cordial but distant.
In the case of Monsari, Wil had loose blood ties via his paternal grandmother, but he wasn’t close with his distant cousin who now sat as the Head of the Dynasty. Nonetheless, a personal connection—albeit third cousin once removed—was better than nothing at all. Even so, he would be hard-pressed to overcome Celine Monsari’s profound distaste for those with telekinetic abilities. Before the Priesthood’s fall, she’d even gone so far as to say the Gifted were ‘abominations’ that should be removed from the gene pool. She’d had to change that tune with the birth of her 8th Generation granddaughter recently, particularly with scions of other High Dynasties now publicly joining the TSS. Perhaps, as a result, their next conversation would be more pleasant than the last.
Wil opted to settle on the couch in the center of the High Commander’s office, facing the large viewscreen on the wall, rather than initiate the communication from his desk. He reasoned the cozier backdrop might make him seem more approachable.
Thirty seconds passed while he waited for the call to be accepted. When the screen resolved into an image, it was of a young man rather than Celine.
“Office of Celine Monsari. How may I assist?” the man asked.
“Williame Sietinen, High Commander of the TSS. I’d like to speak with Celine.”
The young man’s olive eyes widened the slightest measure at Wil’s name and then narrowed when he spoke of the TSS. “She’s asked not to be disturbed.”