“The world knows about Adrian,” Jyn said without fanfare. Everybody was gathered in the living room at his request without any idea as to why he suddenly needed to talk them all at once. He noted Kell immediately checking his data slate for the news. “Several hours ago, a reporter announced his existence in an emergency broadcast. High Command has been dealing with the fallout, but they’re not happy.”

  “Do we know how they managed that?” Rann asked. The timing of the situation didn’t make any sense. They’d taken measures to ensure that nobody knew of the diplomatic envoy that had interrogated Adrian.

  “High Diplomat Annkor managed to send the reporter a data packet containing everything she needed to be convinced and make the broadcast,” Jyn said with a grimace. “High Command demands answers, since preventing such an outcome was our responsibility.”

  “But we made sure he had nothing on him when we jailed him,” Rann replied. “What could we have missed?”

  “I’m not sure, but it’s our job to find out. It won’t change anything, but High Command still wants to know to prevent it from happening again.”

  “Is that all?” Reya asked. She was sitting next to Adrian on the couch holding his hand tightly. Their palms were sweaty, and she couldn’t tell if it was her or Adrian that was more nervous. “We knew it was going to happen eventually, just not how. Does the Tribunal have a response yet?”

  “They’re working on it,” Jyn replied. “Unfortunately, we have bigger problems to worry about.” He stared at Adrian apologetically. “The world now has access to a video of one of your experiments.”

  Adrian froze. “Which one?” he asked in a shaky voice. A feeling of dread loomed over him while he waited for Jyn’s response. The gamut of emotions that played out on Jyn’s face only made the feeling worse. There was only one video Adrian knew of that would invoke such emotion from the man.

  “The one with the purple chemical,” Jyn said, confirming Adrian’s fears. Reya gasped, knowing exactly which experiment was now public. She cast a worried glance towards Adrian.

  Adrian’s world shattered. “They all know?” he croaked hoarsely. Reya hugged him soothingly, but he hardly noticed.

  “I’m sorry, Adrian,” Jyn said wholeheartedly. “High Command tried getting rid of it the moment they found out, but it’s already spread too much for them to truly remove it.”

  “What kind of video?” Rann asked, perplexed by everyone’s reactions. “Is it that bad of an experiment?”

  “It is,” Jyn replied solemnly. “While I can’t stop any of you from viewing it should you truly wish to, please don’t. I’m asking you not as your Captain but as a person. Leave that mystery alone, even if others won’t.”

  “You’ve already seen the video,” Rann realized. She looked between Tassie, Reya and Adrian. “And you all already know exactly which one it is, which means you’ve also seen the video.”

  “We have,” Tassie confirmed. “Please listen to Jyn on this one. For once, he’s not being a hard ass. I also have the same wish. Please don’t watch the video. It’s not fair to Adrian.”

  Silent tears streamed down Adrian’s face as he grappled with news, but nobody said anything, opting to leave the man alone.

  “Unfortunately, that’s not everything,” Jyn said. “The War Tribunal has risen to power.”

  A collective gasp came from everyone except Adrian at the statement. “Because a video was leaked?” Rann asked. “They can’t just arbitrarily rise to power like that. People won’t tolerate it unless there’s a war.”

  “That’s because we are now at total war with the gru’ul,” Jyn replied seriously. “We’ve uncovered a terrible truth. One that no apology will ever be enough for.”

  An uneasy silence spread around the room. “Is this response truly warranted?” Rann chanced. The War Tribunal was no laughing matter. It gave totalitarian authority to the Tribunal. Their orders would be law with no recourse.

  “Yes,” was all Jyn said on the matter. “I don’t know when we’ll actually fight the gru’ul, but as of right now, we are to be prepared for combat at all times. Adrian is now a high-profile target, both by the gru’ul and by third parties with unknown motives. Patrols will be mandatory,” he ordered. “Rann, prepare our munitions. We are to be fully armed no matter the situation.”

  “Understood, Captain,” Rann said, still reeling from the news.

  “Everybody except Reya and Adrian is to meet on the ship once armed by Rann,” Jyn said sternly. “I’m going to give you all your new orders for how to proceed from now on. You’re all dismissed.”

  The group broke up faster than Adrian could blink, soon leaving just him, Reya and Jyn alone in the living room. Reya glanced at her former Captain warily. “What are we supposed to do in the meantime?” she asked.

  “Please stay in the house while we’re having our meeting,” Jyn said. He fished around in his pocket and pulled out two spare comms. He gave them to both Reya and Adrian. “I’m entrusting the both of you with these. Contact us right away if anything happens or you suspect there’s something wrong.”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Adrian frowned. “I thought you didn’t want me having access to your technology,” he said, perplexed. For so long, Jyn had been against Adrian having access to military hardware and Adrian was having trouble understanding the sudden shift in attitude.

  “Things have changed,” Jyn said. “Whether you like it or not, there’s going to be a lot of attention on you. This is a precaution to keep you both safe. The War Tribunal is not something to be taken lightly. Since you’re not originally from our faction, you have no real context. The War Tribunal are the ultimate rulers while in power and will be beyond reproach. You’re going to have to be more careful now when dealing with them. The protections you gained from being made a citizen are utterly worthless in the face of their power.”

  Adrian pondered Jyn’s words. “Does that mean that all of my deals with them are also worthless?” he asked.

  “At the end of the day, yes,” Jyn said bluntly. “As a new species under protected under first contact protocols, you might be able to shield yourself. But ultimately, even those won’t protect you if the War Tribunal really wants something from you.”

  Fear flashed across Adrian’s face. “They can do anything they want?”

  “Yes,” Jyn said grimly. He looked between the pair. “I’ll leave you both some time to go over the ramifications of what this war means while I debrief the team.” He took his leave and went back to the ship to prepare for the meeting he’d called.

  Alone in the house, Reya and Adrian sat in silence. She took his hand reassuringly, though even she was unsure as to what the future would hold. “Will they experiment on me?” Adrian asked, his voice thick with fear.

  “I don’t know,” Reya said. “I hope not, but they might change their minds, and there will be nothing we can do about it.” She pulled Adrian close and rocked him gently, supporting him when he needed somebody to lean on.

  He sunk into her embrace, but in his mind’s eye all he saw was another operating table.

  Cirrus seethed as she listened to Nessah’s report, barely able to keep from yelling at her for the blatant incompetence displayed by their military. The most important operation of their entire existence was at risk because of some uppity reporter who thought they knew better. “I want that reporter tried for treason,” she said once Nessah was done and excused from the discussion.

  “Seconded,” Darros said. Neither of them were in the mood for games. They’d always known they didn’t have much time to prepare, but to be so suddenly out in the open had taken them all by surprise. “Though from what our General said, she’s already had a taste of what being an enemy of the faction entails.”

  “That’s not enough!” Cirrus exploded. “She’s doomed us all. We’re not ready yet, and that moron has forced our hand. If the gru’ul are observing us, they’re going to know that we’re aware of humans and even have one on Verilia. We can’t hide the fact anymore.”

  “Then we don’t,” Orryn said. Every Elder swiveled their heads and stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “There’s already protests and riots in the streets calling for Adrian’s freedom. If we keep this hidden any longer, we’ll only cause unnecessary damage to our society when we need everybody unified against the gru’ul.”

  “So we what, show Adrian off to the world?” Cirrus asked, aghast at the proposal. The very idea of admitting to the public that they’d been lied to for months didn’t sit well with her. The Tribunal had the responsibility to keep the populace safe from harm. That they hadn’t enacted first contact protocols when they had a legal obligation to wouldn’t sit well with the people.

  “Yes,” Orryn said. “We host a press conference where we’re all present and display Adrian for the world to see.”

  “How do we explain why we kept him hidden for so long?” Maraz asked. “We don’t owe the populace explanations for our actions, but in this case they’re going to ask very pointed questions we’ll be hard pressed to ignore.”

  “We simply tell them a half-truth,” Orryn said. “We explain that at first we didn’t believe Adrian’s claims about being an alien species. We dispatched resources to uncover the truth and learned that his claims were as he said they were.”

  “If we do that, we’ll have to explain about the gru’ul,” Darros said. “The world isn’t ready for that yet.”

  “The world will never be ready for this war,” Orryn countered. “We can try to release the information in small doses. They already know the gru’ul experimented on Adrian.”

  “And how do we explain the purple chemical?” Darros demanded.

  “By the mobilization of half our fleet to secure something so terrible,” Orryn proposed. “It’s not entirely false. They don’t need to know that we’re in possession of samples. Simply that we had no hand in their creation.”

  Silence descended upon the Elders as they pondered Orryn’s proposal. A debate raged on as each one gave their thoughts on how to handle the escalating situation. Every idea proposed was ultimately shot down throughout the course of the discussion, until eventually they circled back to Orryn’s initial suggestion.

  “This is a mistake,” Cirrus said. “Our entire handling of the situation has been nothing but mistakes! If we aren’t careful, we’ll be annihilated.”

  “Then what do you suggest, Cirrus?” Kaius asked.

  “We declare that the War Tribunal has risen to power to force everybody to shut up or face the consequences,” Cirrus harrumphed. “We have bigger things to worry about than public image.”

  “While you’re correct, the world still needs to accept the reason we’ve risen to power,” Kaius replied calmly.

  “Then we start by telling them it was because of the purple chemical,” Cirrus said. “That the creation of such cruelty can’t go unpunished. That we’ll protect our populace from being subjected to such an atrocity.”

  “That might have some sway, but I’m not sure it’ll be enough,” Darros said grimly. “But it’s a step in the right direction before we reveal the Mandate.”

  Discussion broke out once more around Cirrus’ proposal and soon Kaius was forced to calm his fellow Elders. “Those in favour of Orryn and Cirrus’ proposal to publicly acknowledge Adrian’s existence and the rise of the War Tribunal without revealing the Mandate, vote now,” he said. Five out of six orbs appeared above the Elders’ heads and so Kaius announced their final verdict on the matter. ““Now is the time for action, not meetings. We shall host a global press conference on every channel with Adrian present tomorrow. Every Elder shall be present for it. We shall display a unified Tribunal before the masses. Orryn, you are responsible for ensuring Adrian be present in person at a studio filled with a live audience to act as proof. See that this is done.”

  The Elders ended their meeting, and Orryn immediately set to work on arranging for Adrian to be present. And she knew exactly what studio would be making the broadcast.