Catalyst (The Second Cycle Book 1)

by Solstice Locke

  His mother was taking a long time picking up. If she was out he couldn’t be sure when he would have the time to call—

  “Hello?”

  Dian lifted his chin from his fist and leaned toward the receiver. “Hello, mom, it’s me.”

  “Me? Me who? You sound an awful lot like my son, but then, I have long since forgotten the sound of his voice.”

  Dian pinched the bridge of his nose. “I get it, mother.”

  “Are you sure he didn’t perish in a horrible accident? Surely he has suffered a grievous injury, since the last time I’ve heard from him there was no snow on the ground.”

  He scratched at his temple while his mother took her deserved shots. Her comment about the snow made him smile, though. It rarely snowed in Azlemaine. When it did it turned instantly from white to muddy brown. Everwood Peak was far to the north, a mountain village where they went two months without blankets of white softening the edges of trees and buildings. Here everything was white, but it was stone and brick. It lacked the magic sparkle and shine when the sun caught a drift just right. Back home there were evergreens capped in fresh powder. From the right vantage point he could see stone chimneys interspersed throughout the conifers with swirls of smoke rising into a navy sky.

  “Dian?”

  “Are you finished?” He asked through his grin.

  “Yes, I’m done. How are you, honey?”

  “I’m—”

  “Who’s there? Is that Dian? Let me talk.” There was a pause as someone shuffled over—his sister, worming herself beside their mother on the couch, no doubt. He could picture the scene clearly. Time didn’t always come with change. His ear was soon filled with Dinah Faer’s brisk, feminine tone. “Dian?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “Great. I needed to talk to you. You do know about next week, right? Well, I’ll be sixteen, in case you didn’t. Anyway, I’ve put in my application to Oxbridge, but the semester doesn’t start for another two months. Mother says I can’t just ‘travel around Azlemaine without a place to stay at such a tender age’ and I told her that’s ridiculous because I have an older brother who lives in Azlemaine and he’d surely want to help his baby sister in her time of need. Besides, you owe me for moving away in the first place. And besides that, fifteen is not such a difference from sixteen when there is only a week between them. So why can’t I just go and stay with my favorite older brother?”

  Dian blinked. He tried to follow the train of words as fast as Dinah Faer expelled them. “I’m your only brother. And you know I don’t spend much time in the city—”

  “But you own an apartment there, correct? I could crash there if I needed to? Dian, you understand, I have to get in now. I have to get acclimated to the city as soon as possible. This is Oxbridge, Dian, this isn’t a time for half measures. Not if I want a career even half as successful as yours or father’s. Think of how far ahead I will be over the rest of my class. Staying in base housing right in the heart of the city, I could learn my way around and pick up any course materials from the college or make use of the numerous resources at hand, for founder’s sake, we don’t even have a proper library here. I have to get ahead, Dian. Do you want me to fall behind?”

  “You...haven’t even been accepted.”

  “A minor detail. Honestly, I thought you would understand. Mother isn’t like us, bless her, but she’s not a military woman. It’s in our blood, Dian. It’s what dad groomed us for. It’s not right that you get to fulfill that legacy while I have to suffer through piano lessons.”

  Dian frowned. “I had to take those lessons, too. Mother’s orders.”

  “That’s right!” His mother’s voice sounded further away. As if Dinah had pushed her from the living room entirely with the intensity of her ambition. She was worse than Dian. All the drive, less of the temperament. Dinah would destroy Oxbridge and, however much she wanted it, the thought of her sharing this life...it irked him. He couldn’t explain the sensation. He should have been proud that she wanted to be like him, the way dad wanted it…

  Dian’s mood soured. For her sake, Dinah was lucky that she didn’t get the military grooming she thought she did. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be this eager about their father’s legacy.

  “Dinah, I can’t make any promises. Why don’t you step outside and let me talk to mom?”

  Her sigh and stomping footsteps reverberated through the receiver. His mother’s calm, rich tone replaced Dinah’s determined rambling. “She misses you, Dian. You should come up for her birthday. Sixteen, can you believe it? My children are getting so old.” He did miss them. Both of them. He should call more, at the very least. He should go up for Dinah’s birthday, but he couldn’t reason it in his head.

  “I would love to come up, but it’s not possible right now. I actually wanted to tell you, I made that promotion. They’re giving me command of my own unit. A, uh,” he cleared his throat, “Cobalt. Cobalt Unit.”

  “Really? Honey, that’s wonderful. When’s the ceremony? Do we have time to make it?”

  Dian rubbed his hands over his face. “Actually, it wasn’t a big thing. They just handed me a piece of paper and threw in some new patches for me to sew on, nothing worth uprooting you two.”

  “That is awfully considerate of you,” she said, but her words were clipped. Strained. Dian’s heart twisted and he propped his elbows on the small table, raking his hands through his hair. This is why he rarely called. The stress and guilt were lethal. “I’m very proud of you, dear,” she continued.

  He let out a slow breath. She only used ‘dear’ when she was upset.

  “I’ll let you get back to your work—you know, your father hadn’t been given command until he was, gosh, nearly thirty? Thirty-one? I can’t remember anything anymore.”

  He was thirty-three. Five years older than me. I’ll outrank him before I’m thirty. Dian liked to ignore the fact that his entire life was a competition with a dead man. Then there were moments when he couldn’t. He wanted victory over that controlling bastard. The Colonel had pushed and pushed Dian into following his path and so Dian would do it better. Maybe it was pride, maybe insubordination—a way to throw it all back in the old man’s face, or maybe he wanted to finally reach ‘good enough.’

  Not that any of this mattered. His father was dead.

  “Dian, honey, did I lose you?” He could hear her tapping the receiver. “Hello? Dinah is staring daggers because we didn’t discuss her coming to stay.”

  Dian opened his mouth, but was cut off by a tap on his shoulder. He spun in his seat, hand jumping to his sword hilt.

  “Dian Faer?” An employee asked him, eyes bobbing to the weapon.

  “Yes, can I help you?” He scanned the building—instinctual habit—and stopped when he noted the tall, blonde woman in the Relay Station’s lobby. Dian was on his feet before he could think.

  “Yeah, um, that lady asked me to get you? It’s urgent. I guess. I’m sorry, but please don’t make me go back there.” The employee closed in on herself, huddling her arms around her middle. Dian started to walk away when he remembered his mother was still on the Line. He stopped and hovered over the receiver.

  “Mother, sorry, I have to go.”

  “I heard. Did something happen? You sound tense.”

  He huffed, eyes craned to watch the General shift in the lobby. She wasn’t accustomed to waiting. “Mom, everything is fine. It’s just work. I have to go. I love you. Tell Dinah I said goodbye.”

  He was gone as the echo of his mother’s voice followed him. General Kannan was a presence in the Relay Station’s lobby. Her icy blue eyes locked onto him as Dian saluted.

  “Outside. It’s...too crowded in here.” General Kannan marched and the crowd parted. She had a berth of ten feet on all sides. Like a lazy stream breaking for a boulder. Dian followed her into the brisk afternoon air, heavy enchantment sucking the warmth from the city. A host of soldiers lingered along the street, all of them forming into lines of attention at the General�
�s presence.

  Kannan took long, sweeping steps that, even though they were close in height, Dian had trouble matching. The range of motion in his prosthetic was the best money could buy, enchantments woven into every screw so that it worked as seamlessly with his natural gait as possible. Truly, he’d known almost no physical limitation since using it, only minor hindrances, like the one of not being able to manage such a long, easy stride.

  Kannan motioned to a Geist still hovering near the curb. The entire exterior of smooth metal was painted black. The windows were enchanted to be opaque from the outside. The only marking on the entire sleek framed body were flags—Vacua and the Legion—set in the front window. One of the soldiers pulled open the rear door for them to enter.

  Dian maneuvered himself to sit across from Kannan. He avoided Geists for a reason. Relics were more accommodating for tall people.

  Silence reigned and his nerves began to tear his insides to shreds. His fingers moved up to trace the outline of his mouth, his mind racking desperately for what would cause the General of the Royal Legion to seek him out.

  Kannan plucked a folder from a case on the floor. She sighed. It was the only sound she’d made since entering the vehicle. Where they were going as it merged into traffic Dian couldn’t say.

  “I received a report exactly eight days ago. One of my officers intended for command of an SR unit was instead assigned a CCU.”

  The General had personally sought him out over a clerical error?

  “Errors happen,” She continued, “Usually I read it over, sign where needed, and send it off to the intended department. I did that in your case, after determining the error had indeed been made. Unfortunately, your reassignment will have to wait.”

  He could deduce very little about this bizarre breach in procedure. It felt wrong to speak, but he prompted her to continue with a quiet, “Yes, sir.”

  Her head turned, gaze steady, face unreadable. “Due to reasons that I...cannot fathom, you’re being given an assignment of extreme importance.” She passed along a folder.

  Inside he skimmed over the assignment’s details. Starting with the kidnapping of Rosewall’s Ambassador, to the believed location of the Free Chanter base, to the nature and goal of the mission, all the way through to where it stated he would be doing all of this with a custodial unit.

  “Sir, may I comment?”

  Kannan leaned into her door, arm bent at the elbow with her chin propped on her hand. “You may.”

  Dian turned his words over in his head before speaking, taking his time to let his racing thoughts catch up with his filter. “A Special Response unit would be more suited for a job like this. I understand if that means that I have to give up my role in this mission, but I can’t confidently vouch for the reliability of a custodial unit.”

  She smiled. “I fully agree with you, but it’s out of my hands. You will be in command of this assignment. You will use a custodial unit.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “The paperwork releasing your convicts from their training is on its way to Ravencross. The rest of your unit has been assembled at HQ. You can rendezvous at Ravencross tomorrow and continue on to Meraton. The Queen has requested stealth on this mission. Your priority is intel. We need the exact location of their base. If you happen to find a way inside or the chance to perform a rescue arises, I will leave the call on whether to act to your discretion.” She paused, breath puffing through her nose. “And you will be accompanied by a member of the Roseguard. We have no authority over her, which makes me nervous on such a mission, but that is the situation we’ve been handed.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I will tell you that, after reading through your records, I was grateful for the error. I knew your father, not personally, but we interacted professionally before I was made General. He would be proud to see you now.”

  I doubt that. “Thank you, sir. That means a lot coming from you.”

  She looked out the window, staring at the passing streets as HQ came into view between the buildings. “I don’t like this plan. But I have faith in you.” Her voice was quiet. They swayed as the Geist stopped outside HQ. Then her tone returned to brisk and curt. “Good luck, Major.”

  Dian stepped out of the vehicle. He skimmed the mission details as he climbed the steps of HQ. Directions were marked with chiseled lettering in the stone, carved arrows and department names directed personnel through the wide hallways. Dian followed the arrows for Custodial Combat Department. The arrows were hand-drawn on paper and taped to the wall. Custodial units were new.

  He followed the inked arrows until he arrived at the appropriate desk. This whole section used to be a locker room. They had hastily cleaned it out, restructured the walls, removed shower heads and obvious plumbing, but the whole place still stank of sweat and chemicals.

  “Hello, how can I assist you?” Asked the receptionist.

  “I’m Major Faer, I was told—”

  “Major Faer, yes, I’ve got you written right here. We’ve been expecting you. Down the hall. First door on your left.”

  Dian nodded. There were several doors, most leading to conference style rooms with tables, chairs, and a chalkboard taking up one wall. He opened the first door on his left and found the same setup, but with five soldiers sitting around the table.

  Four of them rose to their feet when he entered. Three saluted.

  Dian recognized Jesiah among those that stood. He crossed to stand beside Dian and leaned in to whisper, “Not looking good, boss.”

  One soldier had remained sitting. Snoring, actually, with his boots kicked up on the edge of the table and his arm thrown over his eyes. Dian glanced at his name tag then consulted the enlisted roster in his hands. Corporal Athelstan Kirst; Medic.

  The other two who remained standing were a woman, Ayell, and a young man, Ordessa. Ordessa couldn’t have been older than eighteen. Dian noted his stiff posture, the way he folded his hands and stared straight ahead, unsmiling. He tried not to think of his sister, but the comparison was undeniable.

  A soldier named Wakefield knocked Kirst’s boots from the table.

  “What’d I miss?” Kirst woke with a gasp, then he broke into an easy grin and his posture returned to one of ease and comfort. “Ah, Commander. You’re here.”

  With his words, Dian caught the wafting scent of whiskey. He asked, with controlled patience, “Have you been drinking, Corporal?”

  Kirst pursed his lips, “In my defense, sir, I was drinking long before I was ordered to show up here. It was my day off. So. I think my level of inebriation, in this instance, is not entirely my fault.”

  Jesiah stepped forward, “If I may, sir, none of us were expecting to be called in so soon. I’m sure Kirst will be sober from now on.”

  “Aye, captain,” Kirst saluted, “What he said.”

  Dian closed his eyes. Breathed in and then out. The thing about Custodial Units, is that the Legionnaires assigned to balance the number of convicts were bottom tier. Demoted soldiers, soldiers on write-ups, soldiers with medical profiles, or the lowest ranking specialist in a given field. The spares and extras needed to maintain a minimum medical, enchanting, communications, and weapons specialist.

  According to the roster, Kirst had numerous infractions under him, one official write-up, and was toeing the line for dishonorable discharge. Chester Wakefield was their enchanting specialist who had been shuffled through more departments than triple his five years of service. Sona Ayell was listed as a weapons specialist, as that is where her certification came from, but suffered an abnormal amount of weapon malfunctions, discharges, and missing parts. Every instance was filed as ‘accidental.’ Jesiah would be their communications specialist and second-in-command, at Dian’s request. He was the only one without a questionable record aside from Mian Ordessa, a few months out of training, and who was only placed in Cobalt as a body to balance out the numbers.

  As undesirable as the situation was, it was the situation he had been handed. Dian wou
ld withhold judgement of his soldiers for now, though he couldn’t discount their infractions completely. Each of them would be starting on neutral ground until he learned who excelled at which tasks and who could be trusted. He had no idea how he would get this group through this mission, but at least the challenge would be a good test of his leadership.

  “Do any of you know why you were called here today?” He asked, receiving frantic head shaking and a shrug in response. “I will brief you of the exact situation when we rendezvous at Ravencross tomorrow. For now, just know that it is a matter of strict confidence and highest priority. You would not have been pulled from your previous assignments early if it weren’t. And I trust—”

  Wakefield’s hand shot into the air, eyes wide and eager.

  “You don’t have to raise your hand, Sergeant.” Wakefield lowered his arm, seeming to fight with indecision, before Dian relented and called on him. “Yes, Wakefield, what’s your question?”

  “Excuse me, sir, I was just curious...why would they give a mission of such high priority to, uh, well, us? We’re a CCU, sir.” Wakefield turned in his seat, waving out with his hand to include the others. “I can’t speak for everyone, sir, but I’m not, hm, my record isn’t quite...stellar. I just wanted to know, if this mission is as important as you literally just claimed, why us?” Wakefield emoted with his entire face when he spoke, disrupting the glasses perched on his nose, and his hands gestured and fidgeted.

  “A fair point. I asked the same question, but if we needed a why we would be given one. As it stands, these are our orders. We’ve been selected for this mission and we’ll do our best to see it through. No matter the—yes, Wakefield, what is it?”

  Wakefield’s hand fell into his lap. “Of course, yes, sir, I was just curious, cause there’s also a bunch of convicts about to join us and so…” He had whispered the word ‘convicts.’ “Speaking of, I am assuming these aren’t hardened criminals? That I shouldn’t be, how do I say it...afraid for my life?”