DauilandBoard

“Incoming call from General Rellig, sir,” reported the clipped voice of Director Jia, Kovalin Rynas’s longtime ally and protegé. “He has the data you requested.”

“Thank you, Jia,” Rynas acknowledged. “Put him through.”

A double-click sound from his communicator let Rynas know that Jia had complied. “This is General Rellig of Ubiqtor Base,” came the rough voice of the commander. “I have acquired the transmission signature, Emperor Rynas — as I’m told I may call you.”

“It is appropriate,” Rynas affirmed. “As the director may have told you, my empire is not that of Kena Lebowskii. I do not require constant worship and glorification. In fact, I appreciate open discussion, and value the insights of my subordinates. But I digress. How much of the transmission were you able to piece back together?”

“Between fifteen and twenty-five percent, sir. Most of my technicians were otherwise occupied when Director Jia relayed over your orders.”

“Fifteen to twenty-five percent,” Rynas echoed back slowly. “You are aware that one week has passed since I tasked you with recovering the contents of the transmission.”

“I am a thorough worker.”

“Thorough?” Rynas said, making it sound like he was wondering aloud. “Or slow-working and bogged down in insignificant procedure?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, Emperor,” Rellig said, sounding defensive. “I accomplished the objective within a reasonable timespan.”

Accomplished the objective, Rynas wanted to say, but decided to keep to himself. You are truly an army man.

“Never mind that,” Rynas replied instead. “I assume the data you took the past week to acquire is being sent to my office as we speak, so as to prevent making me wait longer.”

A look of surprise passed across Rellig’s face as he heard the emperor’s words. He turned and motioned to someone outside Rynas’s view, then said something inaudible to that person.

“Ah, yes, sir,” Rellig turned his attention back to the emperor, straightening. “Of course.”

“Good,” Rynas said, his typical patience for fumbling officers beginning to fade. “Until next time, General.” He cut the transmission.

—

Situated safely in the center of the Redoubt, Rynas’s Emperor’s Office was nearly twice as large as his old Director’s Office, and, unlike his last workplace, had the crossed-“E” emblem of the Eternal Empire emblazoned into the desk. Even so, he kept the layout identical to that of his previous office: sparse and simple. His desk, a trapezoid two meters wide and half as long, was placed halfway between the entryway and the opposite wall, with a visitor’s seat behind each of the trapezoid’s legs. His own seat, moved directly from the Director’s Office to this one upon his ascension to the Emperorship, was on the long edge of the desk.

In front of Rynas was his new computer, the newest and finest piece of technology to come from Lenqor Base. Its most relevant feature, one he had explicitly requested of Lenqor’s Chief Engineer, was a decryption component. Luckily for Rynas’s time-sensitive task, it was already loaded with the encryption codes of Imperial Intelligence and all the major Generals and Admirals.

As the emperor plugged in Rellig’s data, he was pleased to see the general’s own encryption code attached to the transmission signature. The upside of Rellig’s relentless adherence to every piece of procedure.

To start, Rynas attempted to use General Rellig’s crypt code on the data. He didn’t expect it to work, as the sender of the unauthorized transmission was almost certainly clever enough not to use the code of the head of the base from which the transmission was sent. But, as Rynas liked to tell his subordinates, “it’s not certain if you haven’t tested it.”

To his surprise, the decryption was successful. This culprit is either much cleverer or much simpler than I thought. Either they’re using Rellig’s code to put me off their scent, or they think I’d really believe he’s the culprit.

Rynas played the decoded transmission:

“Been a while… too long.” came a voice.

Short pause. “Lack of delivery last month,” said a second voice.

Significantly longer pause. “The Empire keeps records … Get to the point,” said the first.

Another short break. “Likely … lost … Seivla Tarren,” the second voice said, in what sounded like an explanation.

A few moments of nothing, then the second figure said: “Most thorough … there or non-existent.”

A period of garbled data about as long as the second pause. “For the money,” the first figure said, notes of disgust in his distorted voice.

Rynas was deep in thought when the recording ended a moment later and the decryption program transcribed the words onto the monitor. The parts that stood out most to him were the likely allusions to Ubiqtor Base in “The Empire keeps records” and “Most thorough … there or non-existent,” and the part of the transmission his computer was having trouble translating into text: “Seivla Tarren.”

Assume they’re talking about Ubiqtor Base, his thought process began. Also note the likely name ‘Seivla Tarren.’ What can be eliminated? The first two lines of the conversation appear irrelevant: the first figure noting the unexpectedly long duration of time since their previous conversation, and the second speaking of the lack of ‘delivery’ — most likely bribery. The final line — “For the money” — is spoken with disdain, implying that it regards the relationship between the two figures rather than the information being conveyed. Thus, this conversation is about Ubiqtor Base’s records and someone called Seivla Tarren.

Knowing this wasn’t enough information to lead him to his destination, Rynas went back to the beginning. Why would an insubordinate — corrupt, traitorous, or simply idiotic — officer at Ubiqtor make a transmission to an unsurveyed location in the Ashes of Crimtonia?

Then it hit him: a memory in the very back of his mind, screaming for attention. The Ashes of Crimtonia. Lost Seivla Tarren. Ubiqtor Base’s records.

Strike Team Fifteen — or as they called themselves prior to Imperial recruitment, the End.

The puzzle solved, everything began to click into place. Seivla Tarren was one of the members of the End when then-Lieutenant Jia had brought them into the service of Imperial Intelligence. When the team later deserted the Empire following the Alomphmerksian coup and the transfer of the country’s cloning chambers to Imperial control, Rynas, at the time Assistant Director, had ordered a task force to pursue them into the Ashes. The End had narrowly defeated the first task force, though losing one of their comrades in the process, and fled the site before the second force could arrive.

And that lost member of the End — Seivla Tarren.

Now that Rynas knew the End was coming to Ubiqtor to discover the fate of Tarren in its records, all he had to do was lay the trap.

—

In the one week that had passed since Deran Leanes’s conversation with Tenne regarding the fate of Seivla Tarren, he, Prolif Keltor, and Ele Tegiel had devised a plan to infiltrate Ubiqtor Base and acquire a copy of the record containing information on their lost comrade. They had reviewed and revised the plan several times, but today, the scheming was over. Today, they went to Ubiqtor Base.

“We’re thirty kilometers outside Imperial territory,” Ele reported as their vehicle, an old ILAC stolen from the ruins of the End’s battle with Imperial forces over five years ago, crossed the designated boundary. “Time to talk to Tenne.”

“I only hope he’s not too busy groveling to his Imperial superiors to pick up my transmission,” Deran said sourly, activating his transmitter and keying in Tenne’s code.

Fortunately, the commander responded right away. “I am here, sir, just as you instructed me,” he said in a tone so servile that Deran instantly regretted calling him.

“Good,” was all Deran could manage without trying to slap the face of the holographic projection of Tenne. “I want you to confirm that our coordinates are correct.”

“Ubiqtor Base is precisely where I told you it is,” Tenne said almost proudly. “As am I.”

“Good,” Deran said again. “And you’ve checked Ubiqtor’s data banks?”

“I… could not, sir,” Tenne admitted. “I lack the clearance to access the record you desire. That is, after all, why you must come here yourself. Oh, and one more thing—”

Abruptly, the transmission ended. Deran turned his gaze to Ele expectantly. “Well?” he demanded.

“It wasn’t us,” she said after consulting the projector’s information log. “The connection was cut on Tenne’s end.”

Deran sighed heavily. “He’d better hope he’s been exposed,” he growled. If he calls me again… he trailed off silently.

—

Tenne felt significantly less safe in his room now that he heard the banging of armored fists on the door. “Commander,” a voice outside said. “You have ten seconds to let me in peaceably.”

“I demand an explanation!” Tenne yelled back. “You have no right to invade my quarters!”

Hastily, Tenne turned back to Deran’s image and finished his sentence: “Oh, and one more thing—”

The door behind him burst open, and Tenne shut down the transmitter. “What is the meaning of—” he tried to demand. He was cut off by Commander Onis Tarn, the head of the Imperial Guard, reaching across and picking up the transmitter.

“Well, what’s this,” Tarn said to himself, plugging a transmission tracer into Tenne’s device. “Seven-four-two-three…” he read off the tracer. “The very direction the Emperor told me to look for.”

Tarn unplugged the tracer, pocketing it and the transmitter. He then turned to the terrified Tenne, telling him, “Your luck’s run out, Commander. You’re coming with me willingly or you’re coming with me unconscious.”

“I am Commander Ayopus Tenne,” Tenne countered. “I answer to General Detrane alone. You have no right to invade my quarters!” he repeated.

And that was the last thing he remembered saying before Tarn’s fist hit his body.

—

Tenne awoke an unknown amount of time later, strapped to an interrogation chair, staring at… Emperor Rynas?

“Why… my Emperor— Emperor Rynas, sir,” he stammered. “I had no idea— Commander Tarn used to be—”

“Silence,” Rynas said, his voice quiet but powerful enough to instantly silence Tenne. “From now on, consider yourself a prisoner of the Emperor. Do not speak unless ordered to speak. Do not attempt to escape, for there is no escape. And now, you will tell me everything I wish to know.”

—

Finished with his questioning of the traitorous commander, Rynas had borrowed General Rellig’s office, configuring it to show him live security footage of the End as they thought they infiltrated Ubiqtor Base.

Led by Commander Onis Tarn, his elite personal complement, the Imperial Guard, flanked him, awaiting his next command.

Not even an hour had passed before Rynas spotted three figures dressed in an imitation of Imperial Army uniforms so believable that he wouldn’t have spotted the difference had it not been for Tenne’s mandatory cooperation.

“There they are,” Rynas told Tarn. “I want you to follow the infiltrators—” He pointed to the rightmost monitor. “—in such a way that you are ready to surround and capture them at a moment’s notice.”

“Whenever you give the order,” Tarn affirmed, motioning to the rest of the Guard to move out. They left the office in typical silence, and Rynas turned his attention back to the End.

He expected them to enter the records vault, discreetly take the record Tenne told them to find, and return to their escape vehicle, an old nearly-broken Imperial Light Assault Carrier, without ever bringing attention to themselves. They had been some of the best Intelligence agents during their short time as Strike Team Fifteen, and Rynas was never one to underestimate his enemies.

Rynas watched the End navigate a seemingly-random path from the periphery of the base to its deepest section. That they were well-prepared was without question, but Rynas almost felt a twinge of disappointment as what used to be his best strike team decided to access the records vault through the main entryway.

The leader of the group — Deran Leanes — gave his comrades an “all-clear” gesture. All three made for the section of the vault that Tenne had told them to investigate.

Rynas’s communicator chirped. He keyed it. “My people have closed all the peripheral access points of the vault. Shall I proceed with the capture?”

“No,” Rynas said coolly. “Let us wait to see how they try to escape. It is important that we learn as much as possible about their behaviors before strapping them to an interrogation seat. Call off the guards, as well; our prey may decide to leave through a side door.”

Tarn acknowledged with a double-click of his communicator.

After a few more moments of examination, Leanes found the record he was looking for and discreetly removed it from the data banks. It was indeed the actual record detailing Seivla Tarren’s fate: Rynas had decided to keep the records unaltered, lest the End notice the difference.

What will you do now?

After signaling to the others — Keltor and Tegiel, if Rynas remembered their names accurately — the End exited the records vault through the rightmost exit point.

Rynas pulled up a map of Ubiqtor Base over the security feed. The records vault was on the lowest floor, Level Negative Five, and the End’s vehicle was stationed in the garage on Level Zero. That meant their only route to the ground floor was through—

Rynas activated his communicator. “Commander Tarn,” he requested.

“Here, sir,” came the response.

“The infiltrators are headed for the power generators. They intend to shut off Ubiqtor Base’s power, then slip out during the ensuing disorder. Wait for them in the generator room, and knock them unconscious when they arrive.”

“What shall I do with them?”

“Transport them to the Redoubt,” Rynas said. “Do not wait for General Rellig to acquire and provide a prisoner transport. The sooner they arrive, the better.”

“Yes… sir,” Tarn said hesitantly. “I can use my helicopter. However, they may realize where they are headed.”

“A miniscule risk,” Rynas assured him. “Even if they figure out the exact coordinates to which they’ve been taken, that knowledge won’t escape. No one escapes the Redoubt.”

—

Two days had passed since Prolif told Elt Henon their plan for sneaking into an Imperial base and stealing a record that contained information on Seivla Tarren. Elt, having been the closest to Seivla before she was lost to Imperial gunfire, had wanted to join the mission, but Prolif had reminded him of the possibility of capture.

As per Prolif’s instructions, when fifty hours passed her departure for the Empire, Elt was to contact her to ensure that she, Ele, and Deran had safely and successfully returned from the Imperial base.

Elt typed Prolif’s frequency into his heavily-modifier communicator — at this point essentially a Wastes-exploration utility device — and waited for a response. As the device sent out his transmission, Elt took the moment to observe his surroundings. He was the deepest he’d been into the Wastes since his arrival nearly a month ago. Bizarre sights were no longer bizarre out here; the unexpected had become expected and the normal was now rare. Even his dreams had gotten strange; he once dreamt that a Vice President turned into a massive murderous robot.

His communicator alerted him with a sad triple-beep that no connection could be made to Prolif. For a moment, he assumed the worst, then realized it could be his own communicator that was failing to connect.

Elt typed the command to perform a scan of the area into his communicator, just then registering that he hadn’t done so in nearly a week. When he turned his gaze back to the device, he didn’t believe what he saw.

His broadcast was being interrupted by a massive energy signal emanating from nearby. The readings were off the charts — he had never seen anything like this in his life. Indeed, the only other energy signal this big he knew to exist was…

Was the reading of Odil Rostenstaphen’s reborn army six years ago.