by NB VanYoos
* * * *
The final day proceeded fast. Tyler woke early with a pounding headache from the wine, but after eating breakfast, he felt significantly better by the time he met Marshall Sliss.
Despite his earlier trepidation, the meeting was brief, professional, although somewhat cold. Even though Tyler had expected the Marshall to question him about the medical information, the Marshall uncharacteristically remained quiet and on-task. Since Tyler felt woozy from the night before, he was happy to avoid the conversation. He even held back from asking for the missing medical information on the Emperor.
As the day wore on, meeting after meeting became a blur in which Tyler barely participated. He could not take his mind off of the upcoming events. He played out the scenario over and over in his mind, but was never satisfied with how he handled it. He had to admit, he was unskilled as a traitor, and everything he believed in did not necessarily match those of his co-conspirators. It made it difficult for him to support the cause with real conviction.
Around lunchtime, he received a message from Officer Slaas urging him to contact her. When he was released, he made his way back to his office and called her back. It was brief as she wished to see him in person.
When she arrived, she was all business. Despite the implied threat to her career, she had tracked down an illegal method to crack the sealed file. Tyler wanted her to simply tell him how, but she insisted doing it herself to save time. Tyler didn’t ask how she found out, but let her do the work while he sat back quietly. Only once did he see a look of curiosity on her face. The look came as she noted the file name, but was quickly replaced with professional focus as she continued to break the seal.
It took ten minutes before the contents of the file scrolled across the screen. As if wanting to protect herself from further implication, Officer Slaas immediately turned away from the opened file and asked if there was anything else she could assist him with. Tyler told her no, thanked her, and released her to her duties.
He spent the rest of lunch reading all the contents of the file. It was created by the Intelligence branch of the Imperial Palace, and Tyler was surprised it was with the rest of Sneerd’s personal files. Nonetheless, it was a summary report on the incident at Treerdeen. The report had been requested personally by the Emperor. Apparently, the Emperor had originally wanted to maintain the policy of relieving the prisoner of war from his post, but a report had been requested to see if they could avoid it.
According to what Tyler read, Sneerd had been on Treerdeen at the request of the Emperor himself. Unfortunately, the report did not stipulate why. Tyler assumed the report was not classified at the same level as the mission Sneerd had been on.
The report listed various meetings between Sneerd and a variety of people, both civilian and military. It read rather normal until the part where the attack began. At that point, Sneerd had been in a meeting at a non-military facility far from the depot. It had probably saved his life as most of the military personnel and facilities were destroyed during the attack.
When the bombardment had begun, they had immediately moved to an escape vehicle built into the facility. Although the vehicle could not adequately fit all the people, they loaded it up anyway. The overloaded ship had just been capable of launching as the Krildon destroyed their facility. As the escape vehicle made its way towards Poolto controlled space, it was hit by a missile intended to disable the ship.
Unfortunately, the overcrowding caused the missile to create greater damage than simply disabling the ship. Instead, the ship decompressed, and by the time it was captured, nearly everyone was either unconscious or dead. Among the dead was one A. Sneerd. Remarkably, he’d been brought back from death by surgeons on the enemy ship. Seven other dead were also revived.
Tyler thought the story had too many similarities to his own. At that point, he had to assume Sneerd was the most likely candidate. It was both logical and practical. Even after being a prisoner for six months, Sneerd was placed in isolation for nearly a year undergoing extensive psychological evaluation. Remarkably, he had been the one who had requested the treatment and evaluation. All of it was carried out by the Intelligence branch at a secret facility located somewhere within the Imperial Palace.
The rest of the report listed the results of various testing they’d done, with a final page outlining the overall results of the incident with a recommendation to re-instate Sneerd to his post as Imperial Regent. Apparently, the Emperor had been satisfied with the results or he would have removed Sneerd from office.
Tyler didn’t know what type of testing Sneerd had been through, but some of the Admiral’s memories suggested it was something akin to torture. Tyler had a new respect for the man’s tough veneer. It was no wonder he was such a dangerous individual. Tyler knew he would have to play his cards carefully—Sneerd was not a man to trifle with.
All of this left him feeling greater anxiety about the upcoming command code turn-over. If Sneerd was possessed, then he might also suspect the Admiral. Tyler was no match for a man who had gone through so much combined with intelligence experience. He felt a chill of fear as he returned to rest of the meeting.
Everything was beginning to feel like a dream, and Tyler went through the afternoon schedule in a trance-like state. In his mind, various worst-case scenarios played out over and over again. Even the Admiral’s most powerful tactics were unable to devise a suitable response. Tyler was alone against formidable powers. Even Adanni remained unusually quiet.
This feeling of loneliness continued to haunt him as he made his way back to his quarters. His agenda complete, only a night of sleep stood between him and his fate. He had no illusions about sleep. Although he needed the rest to fortify his resolve, he also knew the import of tomorrow’s events would deny him that basic necessity. Instead, he retired to the couch and opened another bottle of wine. Perhaps inebriation would bring sleep—if only a less restful one.