Memory Terminal Classification Omega Zeta PYR: Begin Upload
Ridiculous. I am independent, unaffiliated with this ridiculous Agency. I refuse to submit to their policies.
After the Alpha Team cleared the rest of the Academy, we were taken for questioning. They found the Omega Squad’s Master Kee in the tunnels under the Eruditium, the wing where the teachers and trainers lived. It seemed that he was trying to make it to the Agency and send out the distress signal from there, but he was intercepted and killed before he could. Commander Davras seemed particularly distraught at the sight of the body. Then, after we were ‘debriefed’ by the Alpha Team, they took me. I must admit I handled that poorly. It took four of them to incapacitate me, suffering at least one broken nose and possibly a concussion. When I woke up, I was tied to a chair in an office. When I woke, I saw a woman sitting before me, speaking into her commlink.
“Yes, all of them. I want all of them called back. Well, then tell them to leave behind as few as they can and get back here on the double.” She snapped the commlink shut and noticed that I had woken. She had long, straight black hair like the dead of space and blue eyes that looked through me rather than at me.
“You’re up,” she said, laying the commlink down on her desk and crossing her arms.
“Release me,” I said firmly, gesturing to the energy cuffs that held my wrists to the arms of the chair.
“You broke one of my men’s noses and knocked out another one’s tooth,” she said, unimpressed, “Give me one good reason to take those cuffs off.” An impatient huff of air escaped my nostrils. She was not one to be bargained with.
“They should not have tried to seize me,” I said, and left it at that. I leaned over, shifting my weight onto one of my elbows as best as I could.
“I just wanted to talk,” she said, raising an eyebrow, “It’s easier to talk through a solution than fighting your way into one.” She seemed familiar.
“Are you related to Commander Davras?” I asked. Her other eyebrow met the first at the top of her face.
“I am,” she said. I had her attention now. “I’m his older sister. How did you know?”
“You look quite similar,” I told her, “And you share the same talent for casual diplomacy.”
“So you’ve experienced his ‘talent’, I see,” she said, rubbing her chin in thought, “Which is odd. Because as far as the Academy knows, you don’t exist. You never graduated from here, you weren’t even a prospective recruit, yet you’re wearing that armor, which isn’t even yours.” I glanced down. Ah, I was still wearing the blast armor from their armory. I hadn’t had a chance to take it off before I was detained and rendered unconscious.
“What’s your angle?” she asked, leaning forward, “Are you a double agent? Working with this Xanthrel army? Or you’re an intel officer working with the rebel systems. Which one is it?”
“If I may, Miss Davras,” I began. She glared at me.
“General Kell,” she corrected. It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. Commander Davras did not share a name with his sister.
“Curious,” I noted, “Commander Davras’ pilot calls him ‘General’.”
“Bemirk has called my brother that since the day I was promoted,” she said dismissively, “Now tell me what you’re up to, or I swear I will use every permitted method under the Articles of Wartime to find out.” She glared again, her eyes ice.
“Your brother and I have an arrangement, General Kell,” I explained, “I aided his Omega Squad on the planet where I crashed and he promised to bring me and my acolytes here, where I would be provided a ship to find a new homeworld.”
“A new homeworld?” General Kell asked, leaning back in her chair. It seemed that she did not believe me. “What’s wrong with your old one?”
“It no longer exists,” I said, “It was swallowed in a supernova, along with my people. My acolytes and I are all that remains.”
“Convenient,” she said, still not believing me, “Let’s see if my brother corroborates that.” She flipped open her commlink again. “Bring me Ked Davras. Let the rest of them be. And get me a status update on the returning divisions.” She snapped the commlink shut again and eyed me warily. After a long silence and a wordless, careful scan of me, General Kell pressed a button on her commlink and my cuffs deactivated themselves. As I rubbed my wrists, contemplating whether to thank her or not, a soldier knocked on the door frame, announcing his presence.
“General Kell, Commander Davras here for you.” The soldier stood at the door, holding at attention while Commander Davras entered.
“Did you get a status report on the other divisions?” General Kell asked, her eyes flickering away from mine for a split second to address her subordinate.
“Yes, sir,” the soldier responded, “Beta is en route. Should I set up a welcome briefing for them?”
“Go ahead,” General Kell said, waving her hand at him, “Dismissed.” The soldier left. Commander Davras hung in the doorway a second longer, taking his time before sliding into the chair next to me.
“Kell, huh?” He asked, leaning back and tilting his chair onto two legs, “You changed your name.”
“Speak for yourself,” General Kell said, “I got married. What’s your excuse?”
“Married?” Commander Davras struggled to contain his shock, “To who? Not Rallen, that guy is the worst.”
“Yes, to Rallen,” General Kell shot back. The conversation was starting to get uncomfortable. “Do you have something to say about who I chose to marry?”
“I might,” Commander Davras challenged, “But you wouldn’t care, would you?”
“You lost the right to judge me when you threw away our family name,” General Kell said, standing up and slamming both hands down on the table.
“Excuse me,” I mumbled, slipping out of my chair, “I have other places to be.” Neither of them paid me any attention as I left the room. A soldier guarding the door stopped me. He was still wearing his combat gear, the black mirrored visor preventing me from locking eyes. He racked his rifle and turned to me.
“Is General Kell done with you?” he asked. I had the sense he was eyeing me menacingly.
“She is otherwise preoccupied,” I responded, trying to be as amicable as possible. Even outside the room, I could hear the Commander and the General both raising their voices as they argued. The soldier seemed to hear it, too. He cocked his head as the words ‘wanted to be just like me’ floated through the door.
“Carry on, sir,” he said and returned to his stock-still post. I walked down the hallway, free of the inanity of that ridiculous sibling rivalry. This was an unfamiliar part of the building to me, but my path here was simple. I retraced it and found myself back in the makeshift command center built up from the ruined Assembly. I stopped a girl as she walked past with a datapad in hand, most likely running information to a superior.
“You, girl, where are the members of Omega Squad?” I asked.
“B dormitory,” she said, shaking off my hand and pushing past me without a second glance. It was up to me alone to find the B dormitory. I set off again, walking without purpose or direction until I heard the familiar tones of Officer Nyrel down a hallway. I followed my ears and found the other four members of Omega Squad resting at the end of the hallway.
“Hey, what up, Boy Comet?” Drek called as I approached them, “Lyra didn’t tear into you too hard?” I forced a relaxed smile.
“No, General Kell seemed far more interested in a verbal sparring match with her brother.”
“Verbal sparring match?” Elyse asked in disbelief, lying on her back across a couch, “Gods, just call it what it is. Bitching.”
“Kell?” Drek asked, perking up from his lazy sprawl over by the wall, “She get married to Rallen?”
“It would seem so,” I replied, “Rallen was a name that did come up.”
“Huh,” he said, “Not sure how I feel about that.”
“Who’s Rallen?” Holly poked her head out of an open door. Apparently, this was a prime conversation topic. Even if I did not understand their interest in the subject, it was good to see Holly’s fair face.
“Lyra’s old boyfriend,” Drek answered, “Looks like they finally got married. Probably rubs Ked the wrong way.”
“Is there any reason this bitterness between Commander Davras and this Rallen character may affect us?” I queried. If there was nothing useful to be gained from this small talk, there was no need for me to listen.
“I dunno, maybe,” Drek drawled, taking his time with the words, “‘Cause last time I checked, Rallen was the Field Marshal of Alpha Team.” Elyse sat up abruptly, throwing her fire-kissed hair across her face.
“Field Marshal?” she repeated, “You’re telling me that Ked’s trying to go toe-to-toe with the Alpha Marshal?”
“Yep,” Drek said, slumping back down into a horizontal position on the floor, “And knowing our daring General, he’s gonna have more balls than brains and he’s gonna bring it up.”
“Is this a particularly bad thing?” Wendy asked from behind Holly.
“Uh, yeah it’s bad,” Drek said, “Ked’s never been what we call intelligent off the battlefield. I don’t think he’s ever given anything a second thought when he’s on the base. And now that we’re all here, I think he’s gonna try and pull rank on Rallen.”
“Are they not equals?” I asked, “They are both the heads of Jetstream divisions.”
“Look around, Fireball,” Elyse said, gesturing around the room to the five of us, “It’s Ked, the pilot, me, our medic, and two people who aren’t even technically part of Jetstream. They didn’t even try to recruit you.”
“Meanwhile, Alpha Team is the best-equipped, most accomplished, undisputed best division at the Agency,” Holly explained, “We don’t rank.”
“Don’t forget,” Drek reminded, “Until the rest of the Masters are accounted for and confirmed safe, technically Alpha Team’s core command is the acting head of Jetstream. Chain of command’s gotta be followed.” I raised an eyebrow.
“So General Kell is quite important, then.”
“I’d say so,” Drek said, “Rallen’s acting head, but as I said before, he’s actually Field Marshal of Alpha Team. He’s got a cabinet of generals below him, and Lyra’s one of those. I think her full title is Strike General. Alpha Team’s a lot bigger than us, so they’ve got a Fleet Admiral for their starships and a couple of Strategy Generals to coordinate the missions and detachments. The Strategy Generals stay on base or on the ships off planet, and Lyra and the other Strike Generals actually go down planet-side to be the field generals. I forget which Strategy General she’s assigned to. So she’s like three rungs down the ladder, if you look at it like that.” His fingers floated in the air as he tried to draw an imaginary picture in front of him. Elyse leaned forward and furrowed her brow as she tried to pick up where Drek left off.
“Below that, I think the Strike Generals each have two to four squads under them, depending on how good they are. Sorry, I’m a little rusty. I was never any good at knowing chain of command. Each of those squads is usually pretty specialized, like a recon squad or an artillery unit. And those squads are about twice as big as Omega is, maybe ten people or so.”
“And there’s a lot of them, too,” Holly sighed, “Alpha Team is two hundred strong, and that’s without counting their off-world support. It’s double that if you consider their fleet. Meanwhile, there’s six of us.”
“Five,” I corrected, “I am not part of your Agency.” Elyse snorted.
“Five,” she repeated, “So we’re tiny. We’re half the size of any other squad in Jetstream, and there’s only one of us. Every other division has at least four squads, even Psi.”
“Hey, anyone hungry?” Drek asked abruptly. Elyse shrugged and Holly wavered her hand back and forth.
“I have not eaten since we left the ship,” I said, “I’m famished.”
“Hungry,” Elyse groaned. She sounded exasperated, if I was not mistaken. “You’re hungry. You’re not famished. Talk like a real person.”
“I dunno, El,” Drek said, standing up, “I’m feeling pretty famished myself.” Elyse took a swing at him as he walked past, her fist colliding with his leg. Drek hobbled over to me and managed a smile through his pained grimace.
“C’mon, time for a little one-on-one, bud,” he said, clapping me on the back and directing me back toward the Assembly, “You can tell me all about what’s firing around that head of yours.”
“Nothing is firing around my head,” I said, “My mind is clear and uninhibited.” Drek groaned.
“Why am I even trying?” he asked.
Lunch went well. The Commissary in the Academy hosted a range of flavors I myself had never tried before. Because of the state of emergency and uncertainty at the Academy, the staff at the Commissary allowed us to take whatever we wanted. I sampled many different flavors and found myself rather satisfied. The spiced foods were particularly good, although Drek would not touch them himself, calling them ‘something that some fiery pit spat out because it was too hot for it’. I allowed Drek to talk through the whole thing, as it seemed that he was less than satisfied with my conversation. By the time we had finished eating, he was beginning to run out of topics to chatter about and I had filled my stomach with the spiciest food that the Commissary carried.
“I can’t believe that you put that in your body,” Drek said as I slipped a pouch of peppered casho nuts into my pocket. They were both delicious and contained enough energy to satisfy me as a snack later.
“These spiced foods are nothing less than spectacular,” I told him, allowing him to lead the way out of the Commissary, “I find it a wonder that you are too fragile to enjoy these tiny delights.”
“I’m not fragile,” Drek protested, “Ask Ked; he’ll say they’re too spicy, too.” I shook my head.
“You are too accustomed to eating those unappetizing slurries that you are provided,” I said.
“It’s not like we pack our own meals when we ship out,” Drek said, “Plus, it’s cheaper and healthier than eating organic.”
“Organic,” I repeated. What a strange thing to have to qualify. “On Pyrus, we kept farms and livestock for the Red Temple and ate the fruits of our labor. Do you not do the same?”
“Uh, kind of,” Drek said, shrugging, “There’s a bunch of labs and factories on Academia where they research and synthesize our field rations. All the non-standard issue food gets shipped in from Newerth and other planets in the area.”
“I do not understand how you live like this,” I said, “Taking for granted everything in your life.”
“I like living like this,” Drek said, shrugging again and pasting that ridiculous smirk across his face, “I get to fly cool ships and visit exciting new places and listen to Ked kill new and exotic people.” I said nothing. Some things that Drek said were simply ridiculous and not meant to be taken seriously in the slightest. We walked in silence until we came to the B dormitory where the Omega Squad was staying.
“You’re back,” Commander Davras said as we reached the end of the hall, “Get ready, we have to go.”
“I have to prep the ship?” Drek asked in disbelief. I could tell that he was not happy about having to leave so soon.
“No,” Commander Davras said, “Worse. We have a meeting with the division heads.” I was not sure why that was a problem, but Drek reacted as if it was worse than being sent on another mission.
“I wish you luck in this meeting,” I said, beginning to retreat to my assigned quarters, then Commander Davras stopped me.
“You’re coming too,” he said, pushing me back to my place next to Drek, “They requested you as a foreign dignitary. Lyra has some ideas on how to deal with you.” He grimaced. I could not tell specifically why that was a bad thing, but knowing what I did about Commander Davras’s relationship with his sister, the distaste was more indicative of him than me.
“Put your robes back on,” he said, “Meeting’s in five.”
The meeting room was spacious, with a long rounded table taking up most of the room. I counted twenty-three stone chairs around the table, with one at the head and eleven on either side. There must have been something wrong with this number because Ked made his displeasure known as soon as we walked in. Fortunately, I had Drek as my interpreter.
“Alright, crash course time,” he said, rubbing his hands together with vigor, “You’re lucky Ked’s wound up so tight; I checked the memo, and the meeting doesn’t start for another ten minutes. Gives me more than enough time to fill you in.
“So there’s 23 divisions. 23 divisions, 23 chairs. Ked’s probably all sore over not having a chair to himself. Omega didn’t exist until last week, and nobody even knew about it, so I don’t blame them for not having a chair for him. But anyways, each division has their own thing. Alpha is the best, Beta runs backup and interference for all the others in the field, Pi and Tau are the nerds, and Psi’s just weird. Right now, Omega’s probably just the small division. Ked’s probably not too happy with that, either. Nobody’s going to expect you to know all the divisions outright. I still forget three or four of them. And there’s a zero percent chance you’ll remember anyone’s names. The only ones I know are Rallen and Ked, and I’ve known them for years. So when the divisions have a meeting, the division leaders attend and they bring along one liaison. From what I know about the meetings, the liaison really just depends on what the meetings are for. Like, if it’s a strategy meeting the leaders’ll bring along their lieutenants or chief strategists.”
“What is this meeting for?” I asked, still not sure why I was required to attend the meeting or why any of this was particularly important.
“Beats me,” Drek said, “Probably because the Academy just got attacked and most of the Masters were killed during the attack.”
“And why do you need these Masters?” I said, trying to absorb as much as possible.
“Well, they’re like our teachers and admins and stuff,” Drek explained, “Like, Master Kee was in charge of Assignment, then there were a couple Masters that handled food and stuff, and then there were more that designed the training program for the Academy.”
“And the Academy is the training center for your Jetstream Agency.” I was beginning to understand now.
“Yeah, pretty much,” Drek said, “Without fresh recruits from the Academy, Jetstream is basically bleeding troops. So I figure the first order of business is going to be restarting the Academy and trying to keep it going for the next class of prospectives.” Commander Davras stood at the foot of the table, glaring at the twenty-three chairs. Each one was monogrammed with a different symbol, most likely the insignias of the different divisions. None of them was the familiar omega that adorned the Commander’s tunic and the wing of the ship.
“Ked, you’re early,” a female voice said, prompting me to turn. The doors slid shut behind General Lyra Kell and a man who I could only assume was her husband, Field Marshal Rallen Kell.
“Lyra,” Commander Davras said, pulling a chair from the side of the table and placing it at the foot of the table in front of him, “I didn’t realize you were coming to this meeting.”
“She’s my liaison,” Field Marshall Kell said. His voice was hard, assured, with the ease and poise of a practiced orator. “I asked her to handle your… foreign friend.” He directed a cold glance in my direction. “I see you also brought along your sidekick.” Drek elbowed me lightly in the ribs.
“Oh yeah,” he whispered, “I just remembered why Ked hates Rallen. He’s a jerk.” I looked over Field Marshall Kell again, trying to draw an impression. His skin was more deeply tanned than mine, an impressive feat for a planet with only one sun. He held himself stiffly, the sign of a disciplined leader. His eyes moved slowly as he swept the room, with none of the distracted flickers that plagued Drek’s gaze or even the unsure glances to the floor from Commander Davras. He was a natural leader, I was sure of it. A man like this commanded respect, enough that I might even overlook the foreign friend comment.
“Field Marshal Kell, I presume,” I said, moving forward and extending a hand, “I have heard much about you.”
“I’m sure you have,” he said, ignoring my gesture, “Please, take a seat with us. Gamma Division will not be joining us for this meeting; you can have their seat.”
“Thank you for the offer, but I would prefer to sit near Commander Davras and Officer Bemirk,” I said as politely as I could muster, “I am still unfamiliar with the customs and organizations of your Jetstream Agency, the foreigner that I am.” I smiled thinly. The subtle art of diplomatic offense was not my calling, but like would be repaid with like. The Field Marshal regarded me with ice behind his eyes, then crossed the room to the head of the table without another word.
“Savage, dude,” Drek whispered as we walked to Commander Davras’s seat, “I bet nobody talks to Rallen that way.”
“I simply expressed my desire to stay with you and your penchant for sharing knowledge,” I said, “If any hostility happened to slip through, it was completely unintended.” I threw a soft elbow into Drek’s side and smiled.
“The other division heads should be arriving soon,” Marshal Kell said, taking his seat at the head of the table, “I suggest you take a seat.” Commander Davras slumped into the chair that he had taken, the letter above his head certainly not omega.
“Ked’s sitting in Chi Division’s chair,” Drek whispered, “They’re pretty small and I think they’re already on an assignment suppressing rebels in the Iacoca system. They won’t be here.” I stepped around the Commander’s chair and placed my hand on the other end seat, marked with a strange trident.
“I wouldn’t mess with that,” Drek warned, “That’s Psi’s chair.”
“Is Psi the division or the leader?” I asked, my hand hovering hesitantly over the chair’s arm.
“Both,” he replied, “Every Psi division head takes the name Psi. They say it makes them more in tune with the spirit of the galaxy. Psi’s weird like that. They only recruit religious nuts and druids and shamans and stuff.” I withdrew my hand from the chair. Any division that drew on the power of gods was no division I wanted to quarrel with.
“Which one should I take, then?” I did not want to incur the wrath of the wrong division.
“Have mine,” someone said. I turned to see a young man with bone-white hair and eyes of the same color standing in the doorway.
“Thank you,” I said, “And you are?”
“We are Psi,” he replied, “We heard you show respect to our power. It is a rare soul that understands the strength of the aether.”
“Didn’t you just walk in the room?” Drek asked, leaning on Commander Davras’s chair.
“The stars showed me to him,” I explained. Drek’s face was blank and empty of comprehension.
“A Starchild,” Psi said reverently, “I felt the aether inside you earlier.”
“What’s aether?” Drek asked.
“Quiet,” Commander Davras ordered. Drek fell silent and slumped against the chair, defeated.
“You did not bring a lieutenant?” I noted to Psi. He shook his head.
“We are all connected in the aether,” he intoned, “and the aether shows us what we need to know.”
“Nothing you’re saying makes any sense at all,” Drek pointed out. Commander Davras shushed him again.
The division heads trickled in, each of them greeting each other and Field Marshal Kell until he stood and called the meeting to order. Despite the Field Marshal deeming the attending division heads sufficient, it was hardly a full house. Only eleven divisions were represented, which amounted to just under half. Drek seemed obscenely bored, and I could not blame him. These leaders apparently knew each other quite well over their years serving together, but with Omega Squad being as new as it was, neither of my compatriots had any allies on this council.
“Let’s get this meeting underway,” Field Marshal Kell said, leaning forward at the head of the table, “We are joined today by Ked Davras, Commander of Omega Squad, and a representative of the Pyrus system, Zanti Pyrusi.”
“Omega Squad doesn’t exist,” said a man sitting toward the middle of the table. He had well-groomed black hair and a smirk that rubbed me the wrong way.
“Why does everybody keep saying that?” Commander Davras asked.
“As you all know by now, we are in a state of emergency,” Field Marshall Kell said, “The Academy has been attacked and the Masters are dead. We need to act quickly to restore order to the Academy.” A murmur ran around the table. I understood their unease now. A system with no support could never stand for long.
“Is there a precedent for this kind of thing?” one short woman asked, sitting below three stacked lines engraved into the high back of her chair.
“According to the archives,” a curly-haired man with spectacles said, “The division heads traditionally elect the Masters, who then take the appointments of the other faculty and trainers into their own hands.”
“He’s Sigma’s head,” Drek whispered, stepping over to my seat and leaning down, “They’re the historians and recordkeepers. Boring guys.”
“Elections would take too long, considering the number of Masters that need to be… replaced,” a hollow-cheeked man said carefully. Drek whispered into my ear again.
“Delta Ops. They’re the assassination division, basically. I hear he basically doesn’t care about Jetstream at all; he just uses his division to get away with killing people for fun.”
“Noted,” I whispered back.
“Do you suggest an alternative?” Sigma’s leader asked, “This method has worked in the past. I see no reason it should fail now.”
“How many Masters need to be appointed?” one division head asked, leaning forward.
“Forty-seven,” General Kell said, reading off of a datapad behind the Field Commander, “There are three Masters still safe and alive.”
“There are twenty-three divisions,” Delta Ops’ head pointed out, “Two Masters appointed from each division and one extra from Alpha Team would satisfy the requirement.”
“There’s twenty-four divisions,” I heard Commander Davras grumble.
“That could work,” Field Marshal Kell mused, tapping a finger against his lips in thought, “Shall we call a vote on it?” The division heads nodded their agreement and began to raise their hands. General Kell counted the raised hands.
“The vote indicates seven for, four against,” she announced. I noticed that the total amounted to eleven, the number of division heads including Commander Davras. Apparently, someone was listening to his grievances, after all.
“The matter is settled, then,” the Field Marshal concluded, “Each division will nominate two senior members to join the Masters and, pending final approval from the remaining Masters, the matter will be settled.”
“What about Omega Squad?” Commander Davras asked. Only a scant few of the division heads at the table even acknowledged him. Field Marshal Kell smiled wryly.
“As per usual, Omega Squad is exempt from standard protocol,” he said, “And now to the second matter on the table. Zanti Pyrusi, please stand.” I did so, smoothing out the wrinkles in the front of my robe. Field Marshal Kell motioned for his wife to continue.
“As you may have heard, Omega Squad made first contact with the Xanthrel race that attacked the Academy on Manix IV,” she said, stepping forward and tapping her datapad. In the center of the table, a holographic render of a Xanthrel’s head sprung to life, flickering as it rotated slowly.
“While they were on Manix, they encountered Zanti, an acolyte of the Red Temple in the Pyrus system. He claims that their twin stars, Pyrus I and II, collapsed in on each other and incinerated the entire habitable zone. The Gamma Fleet under Admiral Cho set out to confirm this report, but they are not expected back for three more weeks. Until then, we have to operate under the assumption that these tales are true.” I bristled. These ‘tales’, as she called them, were certainly true.
“Then why is he here?” the Delta leader asked, leaning back in his seat. His gaze swept past the Xanthrel and focused on me, looking me up and down like a target rather than a man.
“If he is telling the truth, the Starchildren are dead,” Psi intoned behind me. His deep voice echoed softly off of the walls. “All save one. They were powerful and influential despite their far removal from the core systems; to lose such a powerful order would be detrimental to the Balance.”
“He is right,” General Kell confirmed, “The Red Priests were feared and respected even outside the Pyrus system. If the last Red Priest aligned himself with Jetstream, it would be a smart alliance.” She looked in my direction.
“I am the last of my people,” I said, clasping my hands behind my back to square my shoulders and lift my chest, “It would seem that I have no other choice if I wish to continue the legacy of the Starchildren.” General Kell seemed relieved.
“We will take the Starchild into our custody,” Psi said, his hand closing on my shoulder, “He and his young stars will be well protected.” My head snapped around to gaze at Psi in awe. He knew about my acolytes. This man was no charlatan.
“Then the matter is settled,” Field Marshal Kell said, standing from his chair, “Unless there are other matters to be resolved, the meeting is adjourned.” The division heads began to clear from the room, leaving only me, the Omega delegates, and Psi.
“We can sense your hesitation to leave,” Psi said to me as the last of the other division heads departed.
“No duh, dude,” Drek said, rolling his eyes, “A blind tapeworm could see that.”
“Shut up, Drek,” Commander Davras said, “We’ll let you two talk.” He left the room, taking Drek in tow with him. And then it was just the two of us.
“There is great potential in you, Starchild,” Psi said, circling around me to the other side of the table, “We could help you bring that to an apex.”
“It is a tempting offer,” I admitted, leaning forward. Thoughts plagued my mind. The Shadow and his army had taken the Academy seemingly effortlessly and the division heads had ignored the issue altogether. I knew that Commander Davras and the Omega Squad would not stand for such a thing, especially with their Master Kee as one of the casualties. And as a leader of a Jetstream division, nobody could get in the way of Commander Davras’s quest.
“But I must refuse for now,” I finished. Psi’s pale face clouded.
“We do not understand,” he said, his milky eyes darting into the air to find comprehension, “The aether has shown us that this is our destiny.”
“Not yet,” I said, “There is something else I must conquer first.” My eyes drifted to the door after the Commander and Drek.
“Then go,” Psi commanded, “But tread carefully, Starchild. Often you will find that the aether deceives you.” I left him, striding through the door after Commander Davras and Drek. He may have been right, that my destiny lay with Psi and the young stars, but it was not the time. I had not been a Red Priest when I departed my home, but I would prove myself and earn my place in the ranks of the Light’s Chosen.
Vid Writes 