New-Commander Dan’L received a private call from Kayla later in the evening, congratulating him on his promotion. “Thank you, Kayla. I appreciate your call. You were the first from our class to be promoted to Commander. I finally caught up,” he said.
She smiled and asked, “Will you be reassigned now? Sometimes we get sent off to solitary postings after a promotion, you know,” she reminded him. “There are no electronic dance music clubs on Ban’Ti,” she teased, and they both laughed.
Dan’L shrugged his shoulders and replied, “No, I’m still assigned to shadow Master Commander Steph’N, and go on whatever special assignments he volunteers us to perform. I’m working at the Palace, under the spotlight. It’s so political, Kayla. You’ve got the whole Army base, and all those men to yourself!”
“The Imperial officers and troops I interact with are all dedicated, excellent soldiers. But none of them are in the top tiers of our warrior class, Dan’L. We owe it to ourselves, our parents, and our future children to choose partners from our own tier. I’m sure your Mother would agree,” she said.
“Yes, I know she would agree. Mother told me the same thing when I was a boy. But so many women are looking to ‘date up,’ Kayla. They make it difficult for a man to stay within his own tier,” Dan’L said, with a roguish smile.
“Especially when he’s such a handsome flirt,” she responded, aiming her comment directly at her best friend. They laughed and talked a little longer, then signed off.
Kayla stood and looked out her room window. The Xau base was expanding rapidly, with hundreds more Imperial Army officers and troops arriving weekly. New buildings were constructed hurriedly, and a large landing site complex would be completed next month. She recalled Dan’L’s words, “All those men to yourself.” He knew she was still mourning Nat’N, and was only trying to cheer her up. Dan’L had been her best friend in their early Royal Academy education, and throughout Phases 1, 2, and 3 Training. They’d been through so much together. She could talk with him about anything, and he confided in her.
Kayla closed the window blinds and sat at her desk. After a few minutes she leaned her head back, and stared at the ceiling. The Imperial Army and Space Cadre men were perfectly safe from her; she had no design on any man. The pain of Nat’N’s death was less acute, but ever-present. She felt emotionally disconnected, as if a part of her was forever gone. She would carry out her assignment on the Army base to the best of her ability, and continue to throw herself into her work. Forward was the only direction. It would be a long time before Kayla let any man get so close to her again.
Commander Kayla was now a full-time, regular fixture on the Xau Imperial Army Base. The troops and officers treated her with courtesy, and felt honored whenever the Shi’Lon Ranger helped them with a project, or participated in meetings with them. The number of personnel assigned to the base grew from its paltry forty-two to sixteen hundred officers and troops over the next six months. Private citizens were moving there, too. A small town grew around the full-size base, to support the troops assigned there, and provide entertainment, shopping, and other facilities for its personnel.
The Imperial Army Base Xau was now under the watchful eyes of a Shi’Lon Ranger. Commander Kayla flew her ES-519 on patrols every day, learning the moon’s terrain, and keeping the Rebels at bay. She was the eyes and ears of Emperor P’Lau, his Beloved Daughter and Emissary, and she obeyed and enforced his will at all costs.
EPILOGUE
Xau, Temple of the Creator
The underground river flowed lazily along, emerging into the high cave, and gently following its curved banks. Small boats were moored on the docks, full of laser rifles, shoulder missiles, ammunition, and grenade launchers. Eight monks in yellow robes sat around a fire, chanting, “Ya-Oa,” and filling the cave with their voices.
When the older monk D’Ridi shook a large, dry gourd full of seeds, the chanting stopped abruptly. D’Ridi said, “We are now eight of the expected twelve monks who will make this mountain on Xau our new home. Convert others to our cause, if possible. But do not reveal us. The monks in residence at the Temple here are loyal to the Emperor, and cannot be trusted or bribed to keep silent, like our brothers on M’Wati. We twelve must keep our own company,” he cautioned.
One of the other monks asked, “When can we expect the fighters to arrive? Where will they stay? Every room in this Temple has security cameras. We will be seen helping the Rebel fighters, and storing their arms for them, Brother D’Ridi.” Many nodded and murmured in agreement with him. “Spy satellites and drones are everywhere!”
But D’Ridi raised his hand to silence them, and answered, “No satellite or drone can see inside this mountain. No armed Imperial Army trooper would dare violate the Temple of the Creator, and risk eternal damnation in the Afterlife. Do not concern yourselves with these trivial matters. Arrangements have been made. Powerful allies on K’Halon Prime have designed the plan to minute details, my brothers. The moon Xau and our Temple will come under their protection when the final uprising begins. We have their word. This river flows for many kilometers, with more than a few caves to provide shelter.” He spread out his arms wide, and looked at each of them.
“Besides; one is on his way who will occupy the minds, hearts, and energy of our brothers and priests here. Our resettling will be a mere trifle in comparison to his incredibly public arrival. A very special ‘welcome’ has been planned for our esteemed leader,” D’Ridi said, with an evil smile. “His arrival will be remembered for decades to come!”
“No harm will come to him, I pray,” another monk whispered. “It would be sacrilege.”
Brother D’Ridi stood and raised his hands to quiet them. Then he stated, “The Creator will decide his fate. Our contribution will help bring a punishing end to the oppression of the Empire. The time is nearly at hand. We will be well-rewarded for paving the way for our Lord Duma Wat, the Savior of the People!” The monks rang bells and shook gourds.
Rafts full of Rebel fighters made their way to the docks, and the monks cast the boat lines to them. They tied the mooring lines of the boats full of arms to their rafts, and slowly made their way down the river, and out of sight. The eight monks began chanting, “Ya-Oa,” and climbed the winding, steep stairway up into the main hall of the Temple of the Creator.
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