Naal stepped out of the transport and straightened his suit before taking a deep breath. The air smelled crisp and clean, almost sterile. Oh, how he had missed the smell of Jastu, the t’uk home world. It didn’t have all the cloying floral scents like the miserable planet the eiraxins called home.
Unlike their former Concord counterparts, the t’uk had long since conquered their planet. Nothing existed that didn’t need to be there, and that included useless flora or fauna. Atmospheric generators handled the air and filtration, while the t’uk had turned to lab-grown foods long before they allied themselves with the disgusting eiraxins and lau to form the failed Concord Imperium.
The entire planet was a paradise of technological prowess, and it set the t’uk apart from all the other meager races of the Astryx.
Naal’s reverie was broken as a group exited the building and made their way over to him on the landing pad. He expected someone to come fetch him, but he hadn’t expected guards.
“Is there a problem?” Naal asked warily, eying the guards with confusion as they neared.
“You’re to come with us, Representative Naal. Supervisor Sael wishes to see you immediately.”
Naal wasn’t sure what he had done wrong, but he nodded toward the guard and followed them to the supervisor. He was led to an empty room with only a single chair before the door was shut and secured behind him.
Naal swallowed thickly. He was intimately familiar with these types of spaces, but he hadn’t been in one since before he graduated to adulthood. With a grimace, he sat in the punishment device and placed his arms on the armrests. Refusing to comply would only make whatever punishment he was being subjected to worse. Once he was situated, metal cuffs came up from the side of the chair, locking his arms into place. Not that he would have tried to leave. If he was here, he was here for a reason.
The wall he was facing rippled, and Supervisor Sael appeared, looking furious.
“What did I tell you the last time we spoke?” the man demanded.
“I quelled the upr—” Naal tried to say before the chair sent a painful jolt of electricity through his body.
“That is not what I asked. Answer the question.”
“You asked me to quell the uprising,” Naal said through the pain.
“What else?” the Supervisor asked pointedly.
“I don’t reca—” another shock tore through his body, more intense this time.
“If your memory is that bad, perhaps I was wrong to recommend you for promotion, Representative Naal. Think long and hard before you attempt to lie to me again.”
“Y-you told me to forget about the adjunct,” Naal said with great effort.
“And what did you do?”
Naal wanted to say he hadn’t pursued the woman; he had handed it off to someone else, but he knew that would earn him another jolt.
“I asked a local defense force captain to look into it,” he admitted.
“You imbecile!” Supervisor Sael spat. “Why did you think it would be okay to disobey my orders or give a captain, who had been sent to patrol that system as punishment for his poor decision-making skills, carte blanche to act as he saw fit?”
Sweat beaded down Naal’s face at the accusation. He hadn’t bothered to look into the patrol ship captain’s background, thinking of him as just another pawn that he could use. “I-I didn’t know.”
The shock that followed was twice as long.
“Reckless and stupid. Your actions have caused the judiciary branch to start digging where they shouldn’t. Nearly a thousand years of preparations could be ruined by your fucking ego!”
He wanted to ask what Sael was talking about, but he didn’t dare.
“I can fix this,” Naal said through shaking lips. “I’ll make sure the captain can’t testify.”
Sael snorted, but no shock followed. “That won’t be necessary. The captain got himself and his entire ship erased by a void cannon. That is the main reason you still draw breath. Had he survived, I would have gladly watched you suffer in that punishment chair until your heart gave out. Let that sink in before you decide to take matters into your own hands again.”
Naal had so many questions, but he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. Supervisor Sael looked disappointed in that.
“You will forget this situation ever happened,” Sael continued more evenly. “You are not to speak of the captain, his ship, or what you sent him to do. Don’t even think about the eiraxin woman. As far as you are concerned, that event never happened. Are we clear?”
Stolen novel; please report.
“Yes, Supervisor,” Naal replied. “What about the other people who were aware that I sent the captain out?”
“They had an unfortunate accident,” the man replied darkly. “You may have crushed the open rebellion on the eiraxin home world, but there are still plenty of criminal elements with an axe to grind. It’s not safe for a t’uk aide to go wandering about by themselves in an eiraxin city. A pity what happened to him. You’re lucky the same didn’t happen to you. I might have gone that route if I hadn’t already put in a recommendation for your advancement prior to your idiocy. Now my reputation hinges on how well you do. That being said, you’re not out of trouble. Looking at you makes me wonder if I should just cut my losses and suffer the disgrace in silence. Do you have anything to say for your actions?”
“I’m sorry, I won’t fail you again,” Naal quickly replied.
Supervisor Sael glared silently at him for a moment before continuing. “A pathetic apology, but it’s a start. Your position here will have to wait. We cannot let the judicators get their hands on you. You will make yourself scarce for the next six months to a year. Board your ship and leave the system as soon as possible. I don’t care if you stay on your ship or park yourself in some unaffiliated station. Just disappear, and do not let the judicators catch you, and don’t bother trying to communicate with anyone. If you can manage that simple task, your new position will be waiting for you when you return. Do I need to tell you what happens if you fail?”
“No, Supervisor Sael,” Naal replied.
“Good. Your ship is waiting, now get out of my sight.”
The arm restraints retracted into the chair, and Naal scrambled out of the room. There were no guards this time, not that they needed any. He beat a hasty retreat to his transport and flew as fast as he could to his ship. He didn’t know how time-sensitive the supervisor’s orders were, but he wasn’t about to wait and find out.
***
Sael watched as Naal’s ship lifted off the planet, streaked toward orbit, then transitioned into FTL.
Once he was satisfied that Naal was gone, he turned to his other guest. “Chairman Saelor, sorry for keeping you waiting.”
“Nonsense. The entertainment was worth the wait,” the chairman of the consortium chuckled.
The consortium had many such business ventures, but most people just called them the Xalos consortium because that was their main profit generator.
“Are you sure this individual can be trusted with the truth?” the chairman asked.
“We’ll see once he returns. If he’s smart enough to avoid the judicators until they lose interest and move on to another issue, he might be worth bringing into the fold. If not, I’m sure an accident can be arranged.”
The chairman nodded.
“So, what brought you to my office today anyway? It’s unusual for you to seek me out outside of the scheduled meetings.”
The chairman bent over and set a case on the desk between them. He flicked it open, then turned it to face Sael. “Look familiar?”
“A Xalos power core?” Sael asked in confusion.
“No, and that’s the problem.”
Sael pulled the power core from the crate and examined it. It didn’t have the telltale wear of the old eiraxin ones that still popped up for sale now and then, which meant it was newly produced. “Someone figured out how to produce them? How? No offence to you, Chairman, but I thought the consortium had a tight rein on the production method.”
“As did we,” the chairman replied with annoyance. “One of our people found this for sale and purchased it per our standing order to clear the market of old Concord relics and second-hand Xalos supply, but when they inspected it, they noticed it wasn’t a relic, and it didn’t have an Xalos ID.”
“Who could have made it then?”
“No clue,” the chairman admitted. “Our people are still trying to trace back the sales, but at some point, the core was stolen, then sold on the black market. Black market merchants aren’t known for keeping records, so it will take time to track down the seller.”
“I assume you want me to tell people to be on the lookout for more of these?”
The chairman nodded.
“We can’t allow non-Xalos cores to flood into the Astryx’s military supply. If they do, we would have wasted hundreds of years of effort getting the military arm of the council to be dependent on our supply. The consortium will survive the loss of revenue, but a second supplier puts our other plan at risk.”
Sael understood the issue. The lau had created the original cores, but knowledge on how to build them had been lost after the war. It had taken centuries for the t’uk to recreate their methods. Once they realized the potential of having a monopoly on the technology, they quickly marketed it to the council, with a few modifications.
Those modifications allowed them to take over any device powered by an Xalos core. Having that capability pushed their ultimate plans a step closer to realization.
After a thousand years, they were nearly at the finish line, which is why Naal’s mistake irked Sael so much. In another decade, everything would be in place, but Naal’s overeagerness and this power core issue complicated matters.
“What percent of market saturation are we at?” Sael asked.
“Eighty-seven percent as of the day I came to see you,” the chairman confirmed. “There are still quite a few of the old Concord power cores floating around in the Astryx’s military supply chain. Our cores might match them in power output, but we were forced to remove certain systems to make way for our modifications. That change had a huge effect on the longevity of our cores. Thankfully, the ones the lau designed are finally starting to fail and have to be replaced.”
Sael had been briefed about the device’s modifications the day he was brought into the plan, so nothing the chairman was saying was new to him.
“It might be enough,” Sael replied quietly.
The chairman looked appalled by his comment. “You’re not seriously considering kicking off the plan early, are you? I thought it was agreed that a minimum of ninety percent saturation was needed to guarantee the plan’s success.”
“That remains true, but if we can’t stop this new supplier, we may not have any other choice. I will contact the others and let them know we are rescheduling the meeting to discuss this matter. In the meantime, I will dedicate as many of my assets to the search as possible.”
“And if the plan fails?” the chairman asked pointedly. “Our people have spent a thousand years setting all this up.”
“And we will spend a thousand more if we must,” Sael replied. “The universe must see the t’uk as their saviors, and the eiraxin as the villains who perpetrated the massive terrorist attack. If we can’t make that happen, we will have to find another villainous species to take the blame the next time around.” Control was much easier when the people you ruled over put you there willingly.
The chairman looked unhappy about that, but he nodded anyway.
Sael couldn’t blame the man; their duties had been passed down for five generations. If it failed, instead of seeing the fruits of their labor, they would have to pass the torch along to the next generation. Eventually, however, the t’uk would be in control once again, and their control would be absolute.