“I can’t fix this,” Kell declared sullenly. Tassie and Reya were present with him in the med bay as he presented them the results of the final tests. “I might’ve had a chance before, but you’re too far gone now. I have no idea how to even go about reversing the changes to your genetic makeup, let alone removing the nanites that have infested every part of you, Reya.”

  “What do you mean by every part?” Reya asked, afraid of the answer. “Am I going to turn into another Stanley? Am I going to find myself here on a cot, so doped up on painkillers I won’t even be aware I’m about to die?”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing that drastic,” Tassie interjected, trying in vain to calm her friends.

  “That’s a very distinct possibility,” Kell admitted bitterly. “Stanley died because his nanites tore him apart from the inside. Eventually, his organs couldn’t handle the degradation and shut down.”

  “And whatever the gru’ul put inside of me have reached my organs?” Reya asked. She’d given Tassie and Kell enough space to pour over the extensive test results while she waited patiently on a cot. Their perplexed expressions as they reviewed the results had done little to comfort her and Kell’s declaration even less so.

  “Yes,” Kell said. “You’re body isn’t rejecting the nanites the same way Stanley’s did, but they’re eating away at your organs in the same manner. It’s only a matter of time until you become unable to function. The only ones that are fine are your eyes and your brain.”

  “Why them instead of the others?” Reya said.

  “Because they’ve completed their transformations into whatever design the gru’ul had,” Kell said. “Your eyes are a perfect match for Adrian’s and are downright incredible in their own right. I assume the results from your eye exams are a good indication as to how Adrian sees the world around him. It’s no wonder he was never worried about being out after dark in the mountains.”

  Reya frowned. “But what about my brain?” she asked. “How can you be so sure it’s identical to Adrian’s?”

  “It’s changed so much that we would need a scan of Adrian’s brain to compare, but the tests show that whatever nanites are in your brain don’t appear to be actively modifying it anymore,” Kell explained. He showed Reya images of her brain on his data slate, comparing old results to her recent ones. Reya was no medical expert, but she knew enough anatomy to tell that an a’vaare’s brain shouldn’t look the way hers did in the scans.

  Kell went one step further and showed her imaging directly of her neural pathways. “It’s almost as if the nanites are performing functions your brain normally would. I don’t know how the gru’ul managed something like that, but I can’t deny what I’m seeing.”

  Reya made a bitter face. “So that’s it?” she asked. “Am I supposed to just accept my inevitable death? There’s really nothing either of you can do?”

  “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to show these results to Ava and Irric,” Tassie said. “They might be able to help. Kell doesn’t have full access to our findings, and Ava pioneered the original experiments on Adrian. She might be able to help.”

  “You trust her?” Reya said, her eyes narrowing. “After everything she did to Adrian, you honestly think she’ll help me?”

  “I can only hope so,” Tassie replied. “We’ve stalled in our research. Studying you might help us put together why the gru’ul modified Adrian in the specific order they chose to. From what we’ve found, everything was deliberate. And recorded, too. There was a plan they were following, even if we don’t know what exactly it was.”

  Reya pondered Tassie’s words. “Fine,” she ultimately said after deliberating. “Give Irric and Ava access to my tests and medical records.” She turned to Kell. “Could you keep studying my samples and let me know what you learn?” she asked him.

  “Yes,” Kell said. “But having more samples from Adrian would help. I know it’s something he’s categorically refused to do, but studying the end result of your transformation might help me learn more.”

  Reya hesitated. “I don’t know if I can ask that of him,” she said. The conversation they’d had where Adrian finally revealed just how extensive the experiments were to her left her terrified that he would go back to being a lab rat. Again. She couldn’t ask that of him, even if it might help. She just couldn’t.

  Tassie and Kell shared a look. “If you’re sure,” Kell said. “I’ll make do with what I’ve got on hand here.”

  Reya flashed her friends a wan smile. “If we’re done here, I’m going to go lie down in my room. I’m spent.” The moment she received confirmation from Kell that she could leave, she was out the door and off the ship in record time. While she knew she’d have to talk with Adrian first before being able to rest, she didn’t mind.

  Once Reya was gone, Tassie faced Kell. “I’m going to ask Adrian anyway for those samples. This time, I know he’ll say yes,” she declared.

  “Even though Reya said she wouldn’t?” Kell asked.

  “Adrian will agree because it’s for Reya,” Tassie replied. “And he’ll do so readily. He knows he won’t have a choice. Not this time.”

  Maraz sighed as he prepared to attend yet another emergency meeting with the other Elders. He sat down in the secure room that hosted all official communications between the Tribunal and watched impassively as everybody else winked into existence around the table. Evidently, he was the last one to arrive.

  “It feels like every meeting we have is an emergency these days,” Cirrus said, sighing. “Why have you called us here, Maraz? There are protests in the streets and in front of our bases over our decision to hide Adrian’s existence from everybody for so long. We should be attending to that rather than something that could wait.”

  “I have told the truth to my assistant,” Maraz announced without fanfare. “After ordering her and her team to watch Adrian’s video, I deemed it necessary for our head of research to be among the first to learn the rest of what we’ve kept hidden from the masses.”

  Cirrus pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why would you do that without consulting us first?” she asked. She could feel a headache coming. “There’s no way she’s going to keep quiet about that. The whole military will know by the end of the day!”

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  “Lona is a key element to our advancements. If there’s one person on this base we can’t afford to have doubt us, it’s her. She’s the driving force behind our advancements. I used her as a test subject to see how our soldiers may react to the news when we eventually tell them.”

  “We should’ve kept this secret for longer!” Cirrus refuted. “If word gets out to the press, people will go ballistic. We need to do this one step at a time.”

  “I don’t think we have the time to play it safe,” Darros mused. “We don’t have nearly enough soldiers for this war. Yes, we have them in droves. But if the gru’ul ever get past our planetary defense system and launch a ground invasion, we’re pretty fucked.”

  “If the gru’ul get past the planetary defense system, it probably won’t matter whether they launch a ground invasion or not,” Cirrus scoffed. “The whole planet will just get blown up.”

  “We need to find a way to bring the fight to them rather than stay on the defensive,” Darros said. “Eventually, we’re going to get worn down. To do that, we need more soldiers. We need a draft.”

  “Do we have enough ships for that?” Orryn asked. “A draft is fine and all, but if we can’t get those newly minted soldiers off the ground and into the fight, all we’ll have done is waste time and resources.”

  “The reality of total war will sink in soon enough,” Darros said. “We’re shifting to a wartime economy. Those who don’t aid the war efforts should be nationalized. If we set an entire planet to the task, we should be able to meet our needs for the war.”

  “Will the populace accept that?” Orryn asked, worried. “As far as they’re concerned, their leaders have declared an impossible war without their consent. If we start nationalizing companies for their assets, things could go horribly wrong, very fast.”

  “Then we give enough economic incentive for every business on Verilia to make the military their primary customer,” Darros replied. “It doesn’t matter how much money we print. We can deal with the ramifications after we’ve survived. It won’t matter if we’re all dead.”

  Most Elders found themselves nodding along with Darros’ points. Inflation wouldn’t mean anything if everybody was eradicated. The Elders hashed out, as quickly as possible, what they felt was the best way to incentivize key sectors to aid with the war effort. It took many long hours, but they were satisfied with the result by the time they were done.

  “How will the civil government react to this?” Orryn asked once they were done with their hasty plans. “We’re essentially taking over their functions. Some might call it tyranny.”

  “Who cares?” Cirrus scoffed. “We’re the ones with the guns. And we have a lot of guns. Any dissenters should be imprisoned or better yet, just killed. It would certainly send a message.”

  “That would be barbaric!” Orryn said, appalled. “We can’t just kill everybody who gets in our way. What kind of leaders would we be if that’s how we handled things?”

  “The War Tribunal,” Cirrus said, wholly serious. “Our word is law. Anything any one of us orders becomes an immutable fact punishable however we see fit. This is the power we’ve vested ourselves with. The world might not comprehend the stakes yet, but we do. They never will and that’s fine. I don’t care if history paints us as villains, because that means there will be a history to continue and look back on.”

  A heavy silence hung in the air. Even Orryn couldn’t refute Cirrus’ words. “How do we handle those more religious than us when they find out the gods don’t exist,” Orryn said. “Now that Maraz has told somebody else the truth, we should probably prepare to tell the rest of the military.”

  “Is that really the best way to handle this?” Darros asked. “We can’t shatter morale before the we even start! Our pious aren’t as extreme as the Rukkan in their beliefs.”

  “What other option do we have?” Orryn replied calmly. “Half our fleet is already mobilized on a mission none of them understand. They’ve been in a lifeless star sector guarding a planet without life for a long time. It’s time we give them something. If only to ensure they keep fighting for us.”

  “We just finished announcing our previous edict about the war. You really want to have another proclamation so soon?” Darros said. “People will wonder why we didn’t tell them the first time.”

  “We start small,” Orryn said. “We just so happen to have the perfect control group completely isolated from Verilia. Commander Cyrix can tell his soldiers first, and we can see how they react before telling the rest of the military. If things go well, we tell our soldiers and then the rest of the world shortly after.”

  “I don’t like this,” Darros said. “But what choice do we have at this point?”

  “Given that Maraz robbed us of the only sensible one of keeping silent,” Cirrus spat, “whatever gets people to fall in line with the least resistance is what we should aim for. I have no doubt that by now there are rumours spreading on the main base.” She shot a venomous glare towards Maraz. “You should’ve consulted us before making the decision on our behalf.”

  “I made a judgement call,” Maraz said. “Using the purple chemical as an excuse is only going to go so far. I won’t apologize for my choices. I believe they were the best course of action we have.”

  Cirrus shook her head. “With decisions like these, we’re going to be fucked before we ever begin.”

  The screen in front of Nadi contained information she never thought she’d be given access to given her position. There was no sender, which meant it was from her handlers and it explained that there was no news from their High Diplomat sent to Verilia. Her new orders were to find and send them information regarding his whereabouts, as well as what had happened to the ship they’d lost contact with.

  Given that she’d been unaware that a High Diplomat had been dispatched to Verilia, she could only wonder what else was being hidden from her. Though far from home and unable to connect to any networks on Verilia to see recent news, she still had friends that she could contact for information.

  As she waited patiently for someone to respond to her, her thoughts turned to her unofficial mission. She couldn’t afford to go poking around where she had no business being, that would be too suspicious. Already she was on the Tribunal’s radar after stealing the samples due to the uncertain circumstances in which the incident had occurred.

  Her data slate chimed, and she rushed to read the evolving news from a friend stationed back at the main base on Verilia she hadn’t even been aware of. Her brows raised the further she read. If it weren’t for the news clips attached to the message, she would have thought it to be a joke at her expense.

  Right as she finished reading and was about to respond to her friend, she received a summons directly from Commander Cyrix and broke out in a cold sweat. She wiped her data slate clean from any contact with her handlers and marched towards the meeting room as quickly as she could without running, thinking furiously.

  The flagship was a behemoth, and it still took her some time to reach the location she’d been ordered to go to. Having been told to enter without announcing herself, she did exactly that.

  The door to the room opened and revealed hundreds of figures already seated inside. Nadi found an open chair and looked around the room. Nervous energy radiated from all of the team leaders gathered. They spoke in hushed tones to each other, all trying to figure out why they’d been summoned.

  Without any warning, Cyrix strode into the room and all murmurs ceased. He went to the front and turned to address the crowd. “You find before you not Commander Cyrix, as you all know me as,” he said in a firm, steady tone. “From this moment forth, I am War Commander Cyrix. You are all gathered here today so that you may be the first to learn of the Tribunal’s recent edict. We are officially at total war with the gru’ul.”

  The room sat in stunned silence at the proclamation. Cyrix let them digest the news for moment before continuing. “The War Tribunal has risen to power. This may seem sudden to most of you, but I assure you that it is not. Long have you been kept in the dark about our true mission here on this deserted planet. Now, you shall learn, for it is imperative that every soldier understand that we fight for the right to exist.” He paused, hoping dearly that he wouldn’t have a mutiny on his hands once he was done. “It’s time for us to kill our gods.”