PART VI: Game of PawnsCSS LEGEND, GENERAL’S OFFICE

  “…and after running three simutions using information from both the Deldraka front and our new ‘guest,’ I believe Ler-Deld Kryder could become an ally in our fight against the Alliance.”

  “The best-case scenario is that Kryder will help us resume a nonviolent retionship with his people. This will allow us to redirect resources toward more pressing adversaries. Namely, the Rebellion and Eagle Collective.”

  Bull reads through Avon’s data in deep thought. While her expnation was somewhat confusing, her report was written in a concise yet informative format.

  “I see. Good work, Avon. I’ll submit this to the Defense Cabinet.”

  The Vice General’s efficiency never ceases to amaze Bull. In fifteen years of service, he never had an officer who could hold a candle to her perfectionism. Admittedly, he had doubts, but once Avon integrated herself into the Legend’s daily affairs, she managed to lighten both his workload and troubles.

  “And while I agree, aliens have been hesitant to make peaceful contact with us tely,” he decres. “I’d rather wait for the right opportunity than force one.”

  “I understand,” Avon replied with a small nod. “Any news on our Deldraka?”

  “Yes, I mentioned Veorz to some officials in the Silencer Initiative. A contingent of researchers from the RFS Institute pn to interview her next week under Khan’s supervision.”

  Bull doesn’t mention that Dr. Arielle Desha, the wife of Admiral Tiberius Desha, will lead the research team. Recently, the Admiral and Avon have been butting heads over how the former runs the Legend. She thinks he’s too passive while he disapproves of her narcissism. Friendly rivalries like this will keep both of them on their toes, so Bull will turn a blind eye to it.

  “You should’ve had me handle that. I’m more familiar with the Silencer Initiative than you, being Silencer and all,” Avon boasts.

  Bull shook his head with a frown. “You wouldn’t have been impartial when discussing her. I know you don’t think highly of Veorz.”

  “She’s a Deldraka. Arrogance is the hallmark of their species,” Avon sneers. “We did steal the psionic gene from them twenty years ago.”

  Avon might not consider herself a xenophobe, but Bull noticed her pride can make her act like one. Ironically, pride is also a focal element in Deldraka society. As a former Human supremacist, Bull knows that only experience will show Avon they share a lot in common with their astral neighbors.

  “Regardless, Khan has become quite attached to her, too. I think they formed quite a bond in the st few months,” he adds. “He’d be very upset if you ordered her to be dissected.”

  “As long as she’s of use, I’ll tolerate the Deldraka for Hoarfrost’s sake,” Avon concedes. “Just don’t order me to have a drink with her or anything. I can’t stand the taste of bckdew.”

  Bull ughs slightly at her quip. “Well, if that’s all, you’re dismissed, Avon.”

  “Wait, before I go, I thought you might want this.”

  Avon reached into one of her pouches and slid a diginote over to Bull. This one required ID verification to open, so he inserted his Citizen’s Key into the side.

  The diginote was filled with short clips, testimonies, police reports, security records, and sightings. All of them were about an elite squad led by a female psionic Human in gray and silver power armor. A familiar foe that Bull had vowed to avoid at all costs.

  “When I received this promotion, Congress told me you were trusted with apprehending a Silencer traitor calling herself ‘Silent Control.’”

  So, that’s what Valerie calls herself now. This new name was on the same tier as “Confederacy’s Champion,” “Desha the Legend,” or “Mirror Squad,” other epithets she’s coined. Even as a Rebel, she is still fmboyant in excess.

  “I was asked to help you in this matter by Congressman Warren himself.”

  “How come?” Bull asks skeptically.

  Anything involving Warren is usually followed by collusion and overtime. That man may have been dangerous five years ago, but now he’s practically invincible. Bull has long given up trying to convince people of his malice.

  “I don’t know. Perhaps after five years of little progress, he must’ve thought you needed a fresh perspective,” Avon guesses.

  “I see…” Bull scrolls through some of the written material, and it doesn’t take long for something to catch his eye.

  “Eh–? She’s a member of the Scarlet War Council now!?”

  “That’s not all. She’s also come into possession of a high-tech stealth warship called the Argentum,” said Avon. “Apparently, the advanced cloaking device it carries can conceal an entire fleet.”

  “I can’t believe this…”

  Bull misjudged how far Valerie (or Silent Control) would go in the Rebellion after five years. But based on Avon’s stoic tone, she hasn’t deduced that this anonymous Rebel and her predecessor are the same woman. At least, not yet.

  “Avon, Silent Control was once one of my best officers; she knows me very well,” said Bull, wisely withholding some details. “With this new warship, tracking her down has just become even more difficult. I don’t suppose you have ideas on how to proceed.”

  “Given your superior experience, I defer to your tactical insight,” Avon answers with a shrug.

  “Fttering, but unhelpful.”

  “By the way, where’d you get your hands on this data?”

  Avon blenches at her General’s question. “I… was forced to call in a favor from Eagle Collective,” she confesses hesitantly.

  “For God’s sake…”

  “Sir, if–” Bull stops her by holding up a hand.

  “You did nothing wrong, Avon. I’m just still uncomfortable that we colborate with organized crime now.”

  The Congressional Eagle Science Accords is a shaky treaty that both sides often break, but they also ardently maintain it for one reason: Primeval research. No one knows what the Primevals were, but their phenomenal technology could revolutionize the gaxy. They left artifacts scattered all over the Taecho Sector, the very region the Eagles control.

  Being unaffected by ethics and bureaucracy allows Eagle Collective to freely pursue mad science. But to study these relics (and keep up with Broken Rings Mafia), they need vast resources and skilled bor. The Confederacy provides both in a limited form as long as the Eagles share their findings.

  “At least you don’t have a connection to them.” Avon’s voice pulls Bull out of his musings. “Their founder is one of my uncles.”

  “Right, Majesty is a Hayton.”

  “Was a Hayton,” Avon corrects. “My family disavowed him.”

  “I apologize.”

  “Apology accepted, sir.” Avon stands up. “I’ll see myself out.”

  *swish*

  Once she leaves, Bull puts her report aside and picks up the diginote concerning Valerie again. He continues to read it while reminiscing.

  You better watch out, “Silent Control,” because I’m done wallowing in self-pity. I’m coming for you, and when I find you… I will protect you.

  REGIS, ARKEDONIA, PALATINE BUILDING, WARREN’S OFFICE (MEANWHILE)

  “Mr. Congressman, I have the newest wave of emails and petitions for you,” announces Warren’s newest secretary, a pallid office dy with sunken eyes framed by thin bck gsses named Linghua Bke.

  Linghua was his third secretary this year, and it’s becoming harder to find applicants every time. Warren might be a fair boss who pays well and grants ample PTO, but he doesn’t tolerate failure, so many of them had to disappear.

  Warren waves his hand at her dismissively without even looking up from his computer. “Shelve the petitions and send automated responses to the emails as usual.”

  “Yes, sir. You also have meetings with Acting President Hayton, the Triumvirate Board, Sector Governors from–”

  “Cancel all of them or send a representative on my behalf with a gift basket,” Warren interrupts. “Whatever keeps them quiet longer.”

  “Sir, if I may, what is so important that you’ve been neglecting your duties as Gactic Congressman?” Linghua demands boldly. Almost a little too boldly. “Other leaders of the Confederacy are getting frustrated with you and your approval rating–”

  “Fine, I’ll make time for Hayton,” said Warren. “Tell him we can have a video conference this afternoon, LPT.”

  “Understood.”

  Linghua bows politely and leaves. Once she closes the door, Warren locks it behind her and dims the lights. He then accessed the live security feed of Bull’s office. Warren rewinds a few minutes to watch the discussion between him and Avon.

  “Huh, I underestimated that Hayton girl. She’s more resourceful than I thought,” he thinks aloud. “Making another Silencer a Vice General was a good py, but I hope Bull’s ideals won’t override her elitism.”

  Talking to himself helps Warren think, but he prefers doing so in darkness. Even though the Congressman took many precautions to ensure he’s never watched, nothing comforts him more than a dim room. It also reminds him of how far he’s come, armed with nothing but his mind.

  “Still, that stealth ship will complicate things… Unless I force Star to emerge on her own. And if Bull is the one bringing the fight to the Rebellion, she’ll come out to face him.”

  “Pitting those two against each other will soon convince the Rebels to view Bull as their worst threat. It will require me to use a lot of pawns on both sides, but the reward will be worth it.”

  Warren creates a new file on his computer, preparing to set another pn into motion. He had to work out the details by noon before meeting with the Acting President… again.

  Robert may be the Vice General’s younger brother, but he’s just another pawn. Without his sister’s talent or their father’s dedication, all he’s good for is executing my vision.

  And though Warren (and many shareholders) would prefer the eldest Hayton in a corner office over a GSAF warship, her role to rattle Bull is much more imperative. So, as long as Warren holds his hand, everything will go according to pn.

  CSS LEGEND, COMPUTER ROOM

  “I just made you an opening. Go, go, go!” said Rokov enthusiastically.

  “I see it,” Khan replies. “But I need some support.”

  “I got you, Khan. Your HP is full!” Rokov’s quartermaster friend, Becky, comes in the clutch with a well-timed healing spell.

  “Alright, I’m aiming the cannon.” A bead of sweat drips down Khan’s brow as he focuses. “This is it…!”

  YOU DIED

  “Dammit!!” Rokov angrily throws his headset onto the desk. “You suck Khan!”

  While standing behind him, Avon shakes her head. A while ago, Rokov convinced her to watch him py Tenth Realm 2, saying she might find it interesting. However, memorizing bnd statistics and patterns, monetized cosmetics, and fantasy lore were all pointless to her. And in Avon’s opinion, she’s much better-looking than the female characters. Compared to Rokov’s Elf avatar, her hair is a more vibrant shade of blonde.

  “I’m sorry…” Khan apologizes.

  “All you had to do was complete one quick-time event, and we would’ve won the raid!” Becky cries. “You had one job! Just the one!”

  Strangely, Avon felt a mild pang in the back of her mind.

  “Is it just me, or does that line sound very familiar?” she asks but is completely ignored.

  “Seriously, how could you miss by that much!? You’re a sniper!” Rokov follows.

  “You realize shooting in real life is miles apart from video games. I’m rusty,” Khan argues. “Between bartering for food and protecting Veorz, I didn’t have time to py in the Lawless Lands. My build got nerfed with the st patch, too.”

  “Still, that shot wasn’t even close. You couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn! A barn for giraffes!”

  “A giraffe wouldn’t need a barn, they’re extinct.” Once again, Avon was ignored as the three gamers continued bickering back and forth.

  “For the love of God, am I invisible? General Bull gives you way too much free time,” she gripes.

  “Gregori, can’t you take up more productive hobbies than drinking, womanizing, and pying these mind-numbing MMOs? I refuse to let our friendship be dominated by frivolous activities.”

  “Hey, Tenth Realm 2 requires lots of thinking, Avon! I don’t judge what you do during your breaks!” he retorts. “Oh, wait, you’re a workaholic. You don’t take breaks.”

  Becky and Khan both ugh, making Avon blush hard.

  “He’s got you there, ma’am,” she jokes. Avon turns up her nose with an indignant “hmph.”

  Suddenly, a kxon bred, followed by a message on the PA:

  Rebel warships detected. Report to battle stations immediately.

  “Welp, break’s over!” Rokov decres. “Congrats, Avon. Your wish came true.”

  After remembering their current course, Avon realizes something: “The Legend is still in Confederate territory. How did Rebel ships enter our space undetected?”

  Unfortunately, the others are too busy leaving, so her observation goes unheard. Is this how it feels when I ignore others? It’s… very unpleasant.

  Wait, is this how empathy feels? Avon cringes in disgust. Empathy is even worse.

  CSS LEGEND, 1ST SAPPHIRE COMPANY BARRACKS

  As the Legend approaches the Rebel fleet, the 1st Sapphire Company gears up for battle. After a series of successive alien campaigns, it’s been weeks since they’ve fought other Humans.

  The 1st Sapphire Company used to be General Bull’s post as a captain. So, he normally reys orders to them himself after briefing the officers. But as the minutes tick by without him showing up, the troops can’t help but wonder.

  “Where is the General?” Rokov hisses to Khan.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I heard someone say we’re in orbit around Vandris. They have Hayton shipyards here. How didn’t they detect the Rebels?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Wait, you aren’t in this battalion. Why are you here?”

  “Stop asking me questions I don’t know the answer to. Despite my gray outfit, I’m just as uninformed as you,” said Khan.

  “But I do know that the Rebels are after the shipyards. I’ve seen this before. They’re stripping them for circuitry or processed metals like neutron steel. As for your second question, the General ordered me to lend a hand. He wants me to get used to fighting in a squad again.”

  “So, where is he?”

  “I said, I don’t know,” Khan repeated with irritation. He then leans closer to Rokov and says in a faint whisper:

  “More importantly, I hope none of the other soldiers disturb Veorz while I’m gone. This will be a trial to see if that hidden elevator can stay hidden.”

  “Rokov, Hoarfrost, if you two would rather talk amongst yourselves, that must mean you don’t want to hear your orders.”

  The two men jump upon realizing Avon is behind them. She was in full power armor with her rifle on her back. The other soldiers respectfully step aside to make room for her as she struts to the front.

  “Vice General Hayton, do you know where Bull is?” someone asked.

  “The Vandris governor insisted he lead a detachment to defend the pnet’s surface,” she answers ftly. “So, General Bull has given me temporary command of the 1st Sapphire Company.”

  Avon hears a few uneasy murmurs about her leading them into battle. Instead of getting angry, she clears her throat to regain everyone’s attention.

  “Anyway, we’re still determining how the Rebels slipped through our security grid. Scans show that they’ve already stripped three of the eight complexes.”

  “Hayton manufacturing protocols dictate that compromised facilities must activate their self-destruct. For whatever reason, that didn’t happen, so the Rebels must’ve disarmed it by now.”

  “As you might’ve guessed, I am familiar with these factories. Using my Citizen’s Key, I can even take control of them. If you can get me into the administrator’s tower, I can rearm the explosives and destroy anything left for the Rebels to steal.”

  “And how’re we supposed to get over there?” questioned Rokov. “The hangars will be swarming with Reds, not to mention they got a fleet as well.”

  “He’s right. The Rebels won’t allow themselves to be drawn away from their defensive position. Our cruisers can’t destroy them in time either,” Khan adds.

  “I know, and Desha only intends to keep them from escaping. Which is why I’m responsible for the main offensive.”

  Avon points to a porthole on her left, the starboard side of the Legend. Now that they’d rotated to the correct angle, the Vandris factories could be seen outside.

  While bulky Rebel ships made up the majority of the blockade, the lead ship, a small but sleek cruiser with silver accents continuously circles the area. Based on the contours of its hull, Avon presumed that it was the famous stealth ship RNS Argentum.

  Silent Control’s ship…

  “Ahem… To get past them, we’ll use Transporter Torpedoes unched from Hangar 2-C. Only then will their weapons be unable to target us.”

  Transporter Torpedoes are small pods that can transport up to twenty soldiers at the speed of a missile. Soldiers are crammed shoulder to shoulder inside a pod with minimal life support and no artificial gravity. So, Rokov already feels his stomach turn at the combination of his two least favorite things: custrophobia and motion sickness.

  Then, Avon’s phone buzzes in her belt with a text message. Thanks to some minor modifications to her gauntlets, she’s able to use handheld electronics without removing them.

  “And, on that note, I just received an update; assembly of the unch tubes has finished ahead of schedule. Everyone, move out!” she orders.

  As Rokov marches with the rest of the battalion, Avon furtively grabs him with an armored hand. She wordlessly hands him a pstic bag from her belt with a small but comforting smile.

  “Thanks.”

  VANDRIS SHIPYARD EPSILON, CARGO HOLD

  CRASH

  The st Transporter Torpedo embeds itself into the factory bulkhead and comes to a sudden stop. The nose opens, and soldiers nimbly exit with their weapons drawn and unaffected by nausea… more or less.

  “Heads up!”

  *thud*

  Rokov’s squadmates wordlessly watched him fall on his face. He then swiftly rips off his helmet and vomits into the bag Avon gave him.

  “You alright?” Khan asks, concerned.

  “Never better…” Rokov breathes with a thumbs-up.

  “Then, put your helmet back on, Gregori, your breath reeks,” said Avon. “Now that everyone is here, we can get moving.”

  “There is a lift twenty meters down from our current position reserved for upper management. It leads directly to our destination.”

  “Once I activate the self-destruct, we have exactly ten minutes to exfiltrate. As for our method of escape, the Rebels should have a ship in one of the hangars we can commandeer.”

  “Wait, back up. Your family expected thousands of employees to evacuate an orbital factory in just ten minutes!?” Khan cries. “That’s unreasonable!”

  “Zip it, Hoarfrost!” Avon shouts. “Take point and keep an eye out for Rebels. Everyone else, stay tight.”

  Well, if we die, at least the Vice General will make sure a bunch of reds die with us. With a shrug, he chambers his sniper rifle and jogs ahead.

  VANDRIS SHIPYARD EPSILON, CATWALK

  The Confederate soldiers cross a narrow bridge suspended within an immense cylindrical assembly line. Countless robotic mechanisms protrude from every side, some still attached to the frames of incomplete spacecraft. Currently, all the equipment is inactive due to a ck of workers to operate it, making the hollow retively dim.

  Using his scope, Khan carefully checks every nearby walkway for any Rebels lying in wait. Luckily, there wasn’t a smidgen of red as far as he could see.

  “All clear,” he whispers behind him.

  “Thank you, Hoarfrost. Still, keep your head on a swivel.”

  Despite Avon’s outward aplomb, she was unnerved by the silence of a dormant factory. She was used to them being full of hustle and bustle at all hours, never this silent.

  Nearby, Rokov wasn’t doing much better; dark, abandoned pces often spooked him, too. Then, he makes the mistake of looking down.

  “Holy–!” he chokes. “Wow… We’re very high up…”

  “About thirty meters, I think,” Khan guesses. “And we only have a pair of tiny wires between us and certain death.” He flicks one of them, making a sharp twang that sends another shiver down Rokov’s spine.

  “Open-air walkways allow for quicker movement between levels,” said Avon. “The portable pulleys and hover-pads above us also–”

  *clunk*

  Khan’s eyes widened. “Grenade!!”

  BOOM

  The grenade blew a hole in the catwalk, sending a few soldiers falling to their deaths, screaming on the way down. On the other side, Khan and a little under half of their troops were separated from the main group. Meanwhile, a squad of Rebel soldiers rappelled down from the upper levels.

  “It’s an ambush!” Avon yells. “They were waiting above us!”

  “Gee, thanks, Vice General Obvious!”

  Rokov fires his rifle wildly, able to kill a few before they hit the ground. Still, if the Rebels took the time to set up this trap, Avon knew this was only the start.

  “Don’t bother with them! Advance to the elevator!”

  “But Khan–”

  “We’ll find another way!” he shouts from the other side. “Finish the mission!”

  Fighting through their ambushers, the soldiers move forward at full speed. Using a pair of psionic bsts, Avon colpsed the bridge above them to buy a few extra minutes. While walking, she pushes a wounded Rebel off the catwalk with her foot.

  Yet, before they reach the elevator, more armored Rebels charged from around the corner. It wasn’t long before the Confederates were cut off.

  “How could they possibly know that’s our destination!?” Avon shrieks. While not all Rebels were the manic terrorists shown in the news, this level of tactical insight was uncanny.

  “Is that really important right– Agh, damn!!”

  A Rebel bullet hits Rokov in the chest mid-sentence. He takes cover behind the doorway, covering the wound with his right hand while fumbling with a hypo-heal in his left. The clunky power armor kept him from removing the cap of the syringe.

  Seeing this, Avon runs to his side. She puts her rifle down and cps her hands together, charging psionic energy between her palms.

  “Allow me, Gregori. This will sting a little, but it’s a lot faster.”

  Avon firmly pces her now-glowing hands over his gunshot wound and heals it psionically. Rokov grimaces as the bullet is forced out of his body and onto the floor.

  “Thanks, Avon.” Once she confirmed he was all right, Avon activated her comm and switched to the open line.

  “Change of pns. Once we make it to the elevator, hold position and wait for our allies.”

  “We don’t have that time, Vice General!” replied a Silencer scout. “And what makes you think Hoarfrost will find us!?”

  “He will, I’m sure of it.”

  In a few minutes, the GSAF forces eventually make it to the elevator, but the Rebels quickly pin them down. Everyone fights with all they have, but it’s clear that they’re in trouble.

  The Silencer scout who questioned Avon suddenly got shot in front of her. The Vice General pulls her to safety to heal her. Yet, it doesn’t matter how many soldiers she saves, the Rebels still have the upper hand.

  “We’re so dead!” cried Rokov. Avon tried using her comm to contact Hoarfrost, but all she got was static.

  “Fuck! Now the Rebels are jamming us!” Rokov exhales heavily and straightens up.

  “Alright, think I have a pn, but I’m gonna need your help, Avon.” Considering she was out of ideas, she gestures for him to go on.

  “Let me take the heavy infantry to draw their fire. That should give you a clear path to the elevator.”

  “That is also suicide,” she replies. “You’ll be mowed down in seconds. We can still st a little longer!”

  “You got a better idea!? Because based on my calcutions, we’re screwed either way!” Rokov cries in a sarcastic tone.

  Visibly conflicted under her helmet, the Vice General weighs her options. After all, Rokov was just another soldier; a generic normo worth far less than her. Trading lives should be a Hayton daughter’s specialty… right?

  *ratatatatat*

  Suddenly, a volley of Confederate bullets surprises the Rebels from behind. Khan leads the charge, firing round after round with deadly accuracy.

  “That’s it! Don’t let any escape!”

  “What the hell took you so long!?” Avon demands.

  “There will be time for compints ter. For now, everyone in blue, get behind me!”

  Khan squats down as the synth-psi power cells on his weapon glow brightly. Knowing what was about to happen, Avon ducks and covers.

  “Time for a winter nightmare!!”

  Much like before, gcial wind shoots out of his gun barrel and engulfs the Rebels. Dozens of unlucky soldiers scream in pain as their bodies freeze from the inside out. In less than ten seconds, they were turned into cold corpses with ice forming in the gaps of their armor.

  “Talk about letting it go…” Avon gasps, stunned by the power of his weapon. A survivor desperately tries to stand up, but Khan swiftly smacks him with the stock of his rifle.

  “Why don’t you use that all the time?” Rokov asks.

  “It puts too much strain on Absolute Zero and uses an entire set of cryo cells. You can say it’s a ‘trap card’-type gimmick.”

  Khan removes the synth-psi energy module from his weapon and carelessly tosses it aside. It was dark and covered in ice; the coils were likely beyond repair. He’ll have to make do with room-temperature rounds for the rest of the day.

  At the same time, Avon turns to check on the remainder of her soldiers. Only a little over half remained, but they also looked more than eager to avenge their fallen comrades.

  If I call for a retreat now, the General will be disappointed in me again. So, the only way this ends is with me putting Silent Control’s head on his desk.

  “Let’s move. Before more show up,” she orders.

  VANDRIS SHIPYARD EPSILON, ADMINISTRATOR’S TOWER, TOP FLOOR

  Once the lift reaches the top, the GSAF troops throw smoke grenades into the office, filling it with tear gas.

  “I’ll handle this!”

  Rokov pushes to the front and unloads at the silhouettes. However, one of them lifts a hand, making his bullets ricochet off an invisible wall.

  “Psionics? A force barrier?” Avon mutters.

  Afterward, a bright purple light shines from the same figure, and the fumes are forced out through the vents. Once the smoke cleared, there were only nine Rebels in the office wearing red and gray power armor and a tenth in gray and silver armor.

  The other closely surrounded the gray-cd one who seemed to be their leader. Each had a blue star emblem somewhere on their armor, the calling card for their unit.

  Avon recognized her as Silent Control, the infamous Rebel Silencer, and her Mirror Squad, a deadly Rebel strike team. Her left hand rested on the grip of one of her pistols as she sized up the people who’d come to kill her.

  The records never mentioned how… tall she was, Avon thinks. She gauged the Rebel towered over her by at least fifteen centimeters. Her height and command over psionics made the elite feel small in more ways than one.

  “I did not see that coming,” said Rokov.

  “Silent Control, I presume?” Avon decres. “It appears finding you was much easier than I thought.”

  A cacophony of garbled noises comes out of her helmet.

  “Uh, we didn’t catch that!” Hearing Rokov’s id-back response, Silent Control fiddles with her equipment.

  “–ucking voice scrambler…” she mumbles. “Is that better… Ms. Avonnica Hayton?”

  What the hell? Even though Avon made many personalized modifications to her suit, she didn’t stand out among other armored Silencers. Yet, somehow Silent Control identified me in a second.

  “Based on those new shoulderpads, Congress must’ve made you the new Vice General. So, how’s Isaac been doing tely? Still gulping down yolks?”

  “How did you know all this? Do you have spies on my ship, too!?”

  “Oh, no, I’m not that good a schemer!” Silent Control ughs. “But I am a telepath. Ergo, I know what you know. And damn, girl, you know a lot!”

  My God… She’s just as erratic as Gregori!

  “The nerve of you to enter Confederate space. Bull has been hunting you for years.”

  Once again, Silent Control ughs at Avon, unabashed.

  “Before you do something foolish, not-so-cheap knockoff me, you should know I’m twice the Silencer you are. Your blue entourage is no match for my team.” she threatens.

  “BTW, I love the OG Angel Cn. If you get me an autographed poster with all the girls, I’ll call off my ships, and we can part ways as unlikely frenemies.”

  “Get the fuck out of my head, you damn telepath!! This mind is private property!!” Avon shrieks.

  “Enough of this shit!” Rokov growls. Whatever Silent Control said made Avon furious, and no one insults his friends like that. He aims his gun at Valerie.

  “Time to die!”

  ZAAAAPP

  Rokov screams in pain as Silent Control shocks him with psionic lightning. Electrical sparks course through his body as she flings him behind a desk.

  “Gregori!!”

  Avon runs to check on him. Luckily, his armor indicated he was still alive. Then, she notices a Hayton Industries corporate phone in a corner. It was probably left behind when the administrator fled.

  “Is he okay?” Khan asks worriedly. Avon nods while discreetly giving him new directions using hand signals.

  Keep her talking. I will rearm the self-destruct system with this.

  Khan responds with a thumbs-up and returns to Silent Control. Even as a most-wanted traitor, she still loves hearing herself talk. He was also curious how much his old comrade changed during the st five years.

  “As a former Confederate, I’d prefer not to kill my own. Violence isn’t always the answer,” said Silent Control.

  “An enlightened philosophy. You don’t seem to practice it very well,” Khan mocks.

  “You think I want this, dude!? I’m not like that trigger-happy loner who probably flicks her bean to her own reflection!” Silent Control flicks her chin at Avon.

  Her dirty joke elicited chortles from both sides, making Avon growl. As for Khan, during his time in the Lawless Lands, he learned how telepathy functioned. As long as he prevented Silent Control from thinking about the Vice General, the rogue Silencer wouldn’t be able to focus on her thoughts.

  “After all, if it wasn’t for my interference, all the workers on these stations would be dead. I allowed them to get away unharmed,” she goes on.

  “What do you want, a medal?” Khan heckles dryly. “If you really are a former Confederate, you should know that we don’t surrender. Especially not to turncoats.”

  “So, ‘mors pro vitis’ is still a thing? Yeah, I know that better than you think." Silent Control pces both hands on her guns, drumming her fingers on them. Her squad starts to tense up as well, waiting for her word.

  “You’re outnumbered four to one, miss. Your abilities are impressive, but even you have limits.”

  “Oh-ho! That a threat?” Khan gnces at Avon, tacitly asking her how to proceed. The Vice General gives him a slight nod in response.

  POW POW POW

  Silent Control easily deflects his bullets, unfazed.

  “Fine. Have it your own way…”

  FWOOSH

  With a sweep of her arms, Silent Control shoots waves of purple psionic fire at the Confederates, making them scatter.

  “Go, Mirror Squad! Engage all hostiles!”

  To compensate for their inferior number, her soldiers use a variety of tricks and improvised tactics. Being familiar with Confederate battle patterns, they began overwhelming Khan and his troops with ease.

  “Anytime now, Vice General!” Khan cries. Lucky for him, Avon operates with more precision when under pressure.

  “Yes, I got it! Retreat, retreat!”

  Carrying Rokov’s limp body over her shoulder, Avon leads everyone back to the elevator. Shooting her rifle with one hand and constantly pressing “close” with the other, she lets out a sigh of relief once the doors shut.

  Back at the top of the tower, Silent Control clicks her tongue in frustration.

  “Shall we give chase or jump ’em again on the ground?” asks Raine.

  “Neither, I’ll handle it myself.” While pacing around, she hears a crunch under her foot. “Huh? A phone?” She then spots a nearby cord plugged into a console.

  “Oy, Lewis! Get over here and find out what the Hayton girl did, will you? I got a feeling we’ve just been pyed.”

  “Uhh, V…” Raine points to a wounded Confederate soldier gasping for breath.

  “Fuu… So sorry about this.”

  BANG

  The soldier slumps down with a hole in his helmet. After executing him, Silent Control holsters her pistol with a look of regret.

  Rest in peace because I cannot.

  VANDRIS SHIPYARD EPSILON, ADMINISTRATOR’S TOWER, ELEVATOR

  “Ten minutes, right?”

  “Nine and a half, to be precise, Hoarfrost. We have to get to the–”

  KABOOM

  After a resounding explosion, the elevator plunges into free fall. “That explosion just took out the mag-treads!!” Khan yells.

  Avon frantically looked for an emergency stop button, but there wasn’t one. Fucking Hayton budget cuts, she swears internally.

  “I got this, hold the Commander!!”

  After passing Rokov’s body to Khan, the Vice General creates a psionic javelin in one hand.

  “Hyah–!!”

  THUD

  Acting on instinct, she impales her javelin into the side of the elevator, slowing their descent with her psionic strength. The sharp sound of metal breaking fills the small car. Eventually, they reach the ground floor with a loud thud. A few soldiers looked shaken up, but thanks to her, no one was seriously injured.

  “Whew… good thinking, ma’am…” Khan gasps.

  “Thanks…” Panting, Avon falls to one knee. Her stomach is still turning and she’s slightly winded. It takes her a second to find the energy to straighten up.

  REGIS, ARKEDONIA, PALATINE BUILDING, WARREN’S OFFICE (MEANWHILE)

  In his office, Warren studied a map of the battle zone around Vandris. Then, the door opens, and his secretary turns on the lights on her way in.

  “Mr. Congressman, you have a–”

  “I’m going to stop you right there, Linghua.” She jumps in surprise, this was the first time Warren remembered her name. He then stands up and turns his monitor around, showing the map to her. “So, what do you make of this?”

  “This battle looks like it’s going our way, sir,” Linghua replies hesitantly while fiddling with the hem of her skirt. Even though this is her third week working for Warren, she still gets nervous around her boss. The Congressman may act even-tempered, but she saw him as a ticking time bomb always on the verge of going off.

  “Of course. GSAF is the best fighting force there has ever been. It’s only natural a gaggle of Rebels don’t stand a chance,” said Warren. “Still, this is a disappointing show. In half an hour, I’ve identified six separate incidents that could’ve turned into a decisive Confederate victory. Unfortunately, in typical Human fashion, these opportunities were passed up.”

  “Y-You couldn’t be more correct, sir,” Linghua stammers. Then, Warren turns off the monitor and turns around to open his curtains. Outside his office is a pristine view of the walled capital of Arkedonia, glowing under the afternoon sun.

  “Tell me, why do you think the Rebellion has grown so powerful in recent months?”

  Swallowing her pride, Linghua says the most humble answer that comes to mind, “I wouldn’t know. It’s not my pce to.”

  “Good. You understand your role was assigned to you based on your innate capabilities, unlike these Rebel fools.”

  “They take advantage of normal people like you, sell them delusions of grandeur so that they’d happily die for a failing cause. In reality, they’re liars, traitors, and terrorists who disrupt societal order. Their actions are nothing but a waste of time, lives, and resources.”

  “Remember, you serve the Gactic Confederacy, and I represent its will. Do as I command, and everything will work out for everyone. If you don’t, I can easily repce you.” Linghua gulps.

  “Yes, sir…” she mumbles.

  “Now, if I know Vice General Hayton’s personality, she’ll devise a quick solution and carry it out, regardless of the risk or cost. That girl may have a good head on her shoulders, but all Haytons think the same way.”

  “Still, now that I know how Rebel ships can bypass the interstelr scanning grid, I want you to leak the method to every Human in the gaxy. Let’s see how my ‘more experienced’ colleagues handle that mess.”

  After he finishes his rant, Linghua realizes Warren has more pressing concerns than the bills she needs him to sign. Luckily, she’s been getting better at forging his signature and biometrics per his wishes. “I’ll get right to it.”

  “And schedule another meeting with Acting President Hayton. Project: Ultima must stay on schedule.”

  “Whatever you want,” she answers with a bow.