by DuBoff, Amy
“I’m more concerned with her reputation than his,” Cris went on. “Ever since his stunt at the graduation ceremony, I don’t think anyone would question his ethics—openness and honesty for the common good. But Saera...”
Banks nodded. “She’s a relatively unknown commodity. Top ranked, and now known to be involved with the TSS’ golden child. No doubt her standing will be questioned.”
“We both know she earned it.”
“Absolutely. But convincing others isn’t as easy. I’ve considered sending a formal announcement, but I’m not sure that would help.”
“Just draw attention to the issue and look like excuses,” Cris murmured. “My recommendation is to let them handle it themselves.”
Banks nodded. “That’s where I landed, too. I’m glad we’re in agreement.”
“On this subject, maybe,” Cris said with a hint of playfulness in his tone, but the words still had bite.
Determined not to get baited, Banks pressed on. “And in the interest of not making a bigger show out of the relationship than it already is, I would strongly prefer for the wedding to take place after Saera graduates.”
“That was already the plan,” Cris replied. “She’s getting close to graduation, anyway. Most of her required courses are already complete.”
“I suppose we should discuss an internship assignment soon.”
“Stars, that’s right!” Cris frowned. “It’s not ideal for her to leave for a year right now. Or ever, really. With the relationship out in the open, she can finally start training alongside the Primus Elites.”
Banks nodded. “We need her as a Second for Wil, without a doubt.”
“So what do we do for her internship?” Cris asked.
“Let’s see if Wil has any ideas. If she has any weak points to address, he’d know.”
* * *
Dinnertime. Normally that wouldn’t elicit a stress response, but Wil’s day hadn’t exactly been typical. After the events of the previous night, he wished he could block out the world for awhile. But, he needed to be there for Saera.
He was still shaken from his first contact with the Aesir. The voice had only spoken the one line to him as the lockdown lifted, but he could still feel the echo of the words in his mind. He had elected to keep the encounter to himself, knowing the words were meant solely for him. Whatever the Aesir had planned, all he could do was wait.
The remainder of the day had helped distract him from worry about what was to come with the Aesir by focusing his attention on the recent domestic developments. Since the showdown with Saera’s friends at breakfast, he’d been getting sidelong glances from students at every turn. First it was the Junior Agents, but now even Trainees seemed to know a big secret was out. It’s stupid. Why does anyone care if I’m engaged to someone?
Wil suppressed the impulse to hide in his quarters for a few days until everyone moved onto the next great piece of gossip, but he couldn’t leave Saera to face it alone. With his chest tight, he headed to the mess hall.
When he entered the room, conversations quieted and eyes shifted in his direction. He immediately noticed that their eyes were darting between him and the other side of the room. Following their glances, he noticed that Saera was seated with Elise in one of the booths.
No more hiding. Wil grabbed a tray of food from the buffet and headed for Saera’s table.
She looked over her shoulder at the sense of him approaching. Wil gave her an assured nod, and she slid over to make room for him in the both. Across from her, Elise looked petrified.
“Mind if I join you?” Wil asked when he neared the table, directing the inquiry to Elise.
“Sure,” she stammered. “I mean, I don’t mind.” Her face flushed.
“What’s going on with everyone?” Wil asked Saera.
“You were always the unattainable crush, but someone actually got you,” Saera replied.
I miss being the kid around here. Wil smiled at Elise, hoping to set her at ease. “So, hi. We’ve met in passing, but I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”
“Elise, Wil. Wil, Elise,” Saera said with a little hand flourish.
Wil beamed. “There. Now, you two have been roommates pretty much since the beginning of time, right?”
Saera nodded and let out a slow breath between her teeth. “Yeah… Now that you two have been acquainted I really need to stay on Elise’s good side. She knows all my bad habits.”
“Oh, do tell!” Wil urged. “We’ve known each other for quite a while, but living with someone gives an entirely different perspective.”
“Well, she does have this habit of—” Elise began, but Saera nearly leaped across the table.
“All right! I think maybe we’ve had enough conversation for one night,” Saera stated, settled back into her seat.
“Oh, come now. We’re just getting started,” Wil countered with a grin. “Now, what you were about to say, Elise?”
Saera’s stern glare through her tinted glasses kept Elise quiet.
“She was just going to comment on how perfectly normal I am in every way,” Saera cut in.
“I recognize that swearing friends to secrecy is a time-honored tradition, but I will remind you, Elise, that you have been asked a direct question by an Agent.”
“So I have to answer?” Elise asked, the conflict audible in her voice.
Saera shook her head with an exasperated sigh. “He’s joking.”
Wil raised an eyebrow. “Am I?”
“Pulling rank is an unfair way to conduct yourself in a discussion.”
“But it’s so effective!”
Saera scoffed. “Only to the weak-minded.”
“Stars! You two really are a couple,” Elise exclaimed through a chuckle.
“Well yeah.” Saera eyed her friend. “Did you think this was all a gag?”
“No,” Elise replied. “but it is strange seeing you together like this.”
“It’s strange being together,” Saera admitted, looking up at Wil.
He took her hand. “But it’s such a relief. No more having to sneak through the halls at night or sending coded messages.”
Saera scrunched up her nose. “I don’t know. I might kind of miss it.”
“In any case, it’s great to see you happy,” Elise said.
I’m glad Saera has had her as a friend. “Thank you for taking all of this in stride. I hope you’ll help quell any of the suspicions that Saera is only in Primus Command because of me.”
“Absolutely,” Elise responded. “I’ve seen what she can do—anyone who has wouldn’t have those doubts.”
Saera lit up. “That’s right! I’ll finally get to practice with you.”
Wil tilted his head. “Maybe reserve some of that excitement. They can be a bit challenging to work with at times.”
“Then we have to whip them into shape,” Saera said.
“You’re talking about the Primus Elites, right?” Elise asked.
Wil nodded. “And the fun with them never ends.”
“Well, you two enjoy that.” Elise slid out from the bench. “Wil, it was a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I imagine we’ll be seeing much more of each other in the future.”
Wil looked to Saera and she nodded. “Definitely. I look forward to it.”
CHAPTER 15
Haersen took his seat in the corner of the conference room. He had observed many staff meetings between Tek and his officers, but this one would be different.
Tek sat in silence at the head of the table as the officers entered. Most were young and had yet to witness any real battle—their skin still smooth and unscarred. Among them was Colonel Komatra, whom Tek had taken on as a mentee. Komatra had little patience for Haersen and made no effort to mask his displeasure with Tek’s choice to keep Haersen as a pseudo-advisor.
When the eight officers were seated, they noted their companions across the table, using name badges on the uniforms to differentiate where the faces failed. There were some noticeable
absences from the usual attendee list.
“You are my most trusted officers,” Tek began. “I have gathered you here today to propose a change.”
The officers glanced at each other, then returned their attention to Tek.
“For years now the Bakzen have been on a declining path,” the General continued. “Our genetic lines are being weighed down by antiquated traits. It all traces back to our leadership. The Imperial Director doesn’t want to change, and yet the Bakzeni Empire is transforming around him. It is time we take the future into our own hands.”
A murmur of surprise passed around the table.
“A coup?” Komatra asked.
“An overdue transition in leadership,” Tek replied.
“I won’t have any part of this,” a colonel named Felak declared and rose from the table. “It’s traitorous—” He gripped his throat, gasping for air.
Tek glared at him from the other end of the table, eyes glowing and vicious. “Then we don’t need you.”
Felak’s neck snapped and he fell to the floor.
“Are there any other opposers?” Tek asked the stunned officers.
No one protested.
“We have an incredible resource at our disposal,” Tek continued without missing a beat, “yet the Imperial Director is preoccupied with ‘preservation of life’—no better than Carzen’s idealistic vision that cost us use of the Cadicle. We need to begin using our drones for their intended purpose, to complete the pathways to extend the rift to our targets. We can’t rely on solely subspace travel once the TSS achieves an independent jump drive.” Tek gazed at the stoic faces around him. “We need to sacrifice now, for the advancement of the Bakzen.”
The officers nodded their agreement.
“How do we proceed?” Komatra asked.
Tek folded his hands on the metal tabletop. “The Imperial Director already suspects I am conspiring against him. I can only anticipate that he will make a move against me. But, he doesn’t know that any of you share my intents. Our best course is for you to gain entry to the Imperial Director’s office to subdue him.”
“It would take at least three of us to hold him,” Komatra mused. “His line is especially strong.”
Haersen shifted in his chair, knowing that Tek came from that same genetic line. He wondered if the others knew—and if they would be so quick to follow if they did. Or, perhaps that was why they followed without question, since he could overpower them with ease. Superior strength was the mark of a great Bakzen leader, after all.
“So, we must find a reason for your meeting.” Tek paused. “And my suspected assassination would make the perfect cover.”
“What if that never comes?” Komatra asked.
Tek shook his head. “It will—even if it needs a little push.”
The officers gave a murmur of support.
“That is all for now,” Tek said and rose from his seat.
The officers stood and saluted him before filing out of the room.
Tek turned to Haersen in the corner. “You joined us at an interesting time—getting to see history made. The Bakzen are forging a future path just as Tararia’s era comes to an end.”
Haersen slid from the chair and knelt in front of Tek. “It is a great honor to witness.”
“Continue being useful and you’ll get to see even more.” Tek headed for the door. “Oh, and Haersen, take care of that.” He gestured toward Felak’s lifeless body on the floor.
“Yes, sir.”
* * *
Laecy gathered her team around the holodisplay. She had the better part of the warship design completed, but there was no way she could finish it on her own. Even though her team of specialists was already strapped, Taelis’ mandate was clear.
“So, what are we doing here?” Nolan asked.
“We’ve been tasked with scaling the neural interface technology from the IT-1 jets to a warship,” Laecy replied.
Richards raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
Laecy brought up her incomplete design to show to the group. She’d pieced together the snippets of Wil’s concept, tying in the individual systems as best she could. Mechanically, though, it was hardly space-worthy. “Right now, it has no life support, the structural bracing is a total mess, and I have no idea how we’re going to integrate the telekinetic energy relays with the weapons and jump drive, given the placement of the Command Center.”
Nolan’s eyes widened. “It has telekinetic weapons systems?”
“That’s the idea, anyway. And the neural interface can bypass the nav console so the pilot can jump the ship directly.” It still seemed crazy to Laecy, but Wil’s specs were always on point.
“Why isn’t Wil working on this?” Richards asked.
“He’s too busy training his officers to be bothered with ship designs anymore. Besides, this is a fun challenge for us!” Laecy said, trying to rally her team. Taelis made it pretty clear we’re on our own with this one.
Richards scanned over the design. “Even if we can get everything linked up, there’s no way we could construct a ship like this. Even with the expanded facilities at Prisarus, getting our hands on the materials for a craft of this scale…”
“Let’s just say there’s a contingency budget,” Laecy said.
Nolan sighed. “How will—”
An alarm sounded in the hangar.
“What the…?” Richards ran out of the lab, and Laecy followed close behind.
Laecy searched the room for sign of an incident. There was no indication of anything in the quadrant near the engineering lab, so she ran toward the opposite side of the circular hangar.
The blast doors over one of the portals to space were open, leaving the room protected from the void by only a forcefield.
“Why is that open?” Laecy demanded.
“Emergency alert from the front lines. Incoming fleet with heavy damage,” an engineering tech replied as he ran by.
“Shite.”
Such incidents were at least a monthly occurrence, but it never got any easier to witness the destructive power of the Bakzen.
As Laecy approached the door, the first of the incoming jets slipped through the forcefield. Its right wing was charred and smoking, filling the hangar with the stench of burning metal.
“Get the fire crew out here!” Laecy instructed.
Four crew members were already donning fire suits and had suppression canisters in hand.
The jet screeched to a halt. With a hiss, the pilot popped the top hatch and clamored out, falling to the ground.
One of the crew members in a fire suit ran forward to drag the pilot away from the jet while the others doused the smoldering sections on the wing.
Laecy dashed over to help the pilot. She released the seal on the helmet.
The pilot was a young woman with dark brown hair pulled into a bun and glowing brown eyes. An Agent, making her the leader of the squadron. “Are the others back?” she gasped.
“No, not yet, ma’am.” Laecy helped the pilot to her feet.
“They were shooting at us with something I’d never seen before.”
Another innovation. Just what we needed. “Any idea what it could have been?”
“I didn’t get a good look,” the pilot replied. “I called for a retreat as soon as I realized we were outnumbered.”
A roar drew Laecy’s attention back to the door. Another jet had just passed through the forcefield and others were lined up outside.
“What happened to your escort cruiser?” Laecy asked the pilot.
The Agent only shook her head in response.
Fok, not another one. “Get to Medical, ma’am. We’ve got it handled here.”
“No, I need to know.”
Laecy understood. She’d want to make sure all of her crew were accounted for, too.
Another jet passed through the door. It was singed like the first two, but something looked wrong about the tail end—covered in a gray substance that was almost indistinguishable f
rom the hull metal aside from a slight protrusion.
Richards ran up behind her. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing at the jet’s tail.
“I was wondering the same thing,” Laecy replied.
The substance on the tail shimmered slightly. Richards stepped forward to investigate.
The pilot came to stand next to Laecy. “That’s what they were shoot—”
Suddenly, a red glow began to emanate from the substance, and within a second the jet exploded with a sickening crack. Laecy was thrown backwards.
Her vision blurred and ears ringing, Laecy tried to rise to her feet. The instant she put weight on her right arm, a bolt of pain shot through her. She collapsed back on the ground, clutching her elbow.
Laecy rolled to her back and tried to focus. Muffled shouts sounded around her. Heat scorched her face. She looked to the side, blinking.
The jet was a mangled mass of metal on the singed deck plates. Red blood was smeared amid the soot. Several bodies lay motionless on the floor.
Laecy struggled to her feet, using her left arm for support. As she rose, she saw that Richards was face-down on the floor three meters in front of her.
The ruins of the jet were in flames, casting billowing smoke into the air.
Two of the crew in fire suits were rushing toward the fire spraying the contents of their suppression canisters.
Laecy stumbled toward Richards shouting his name. Her face twisted in horror was she neared his body. He wasn’t breathing.
“Jack!” She knelt by his side and tried to flip him over with her good arm.
When he was on his side, his head lolled lifelessly to the side, his eyes open and vacant.
No! “Medic!” Laecy screamed over her shoulder, though she knew it was already too late. A piece of shrapnel in his chest nearly bisecting him. Not him…
“Stars! Denna, your arm!” the medic exclaimed as he ran up.
Laecy glanced down at her own wound. Her jumpsuit was stained dark red down her side and the sleeve was in tatters around her lacerated skin.
“That can wait. Richards—”
The medic took one look at the fallen engineer and shook his head.
“Fok.” Laecy clutched her injured arm and rose to her feet, turning away. I don’t want to remember him like that. I can’t… With her vision finally clear, she took in the carnage around her.