Empire Reborn (Taran Empire Saga Book 1): A Cadicle Space Opera A.K. DuBoff (guided reading books TXT) 📖

looked forward, resolute. “You’ve shown us what you can do, and we acknowledge your power. But a war is not in either of our interests. There’s no need for those losses. Let us find a way to maintain this longstanding peace.” He gestured with his hand to cut the broadcast.

Wil resisted the urge to pace while they waited for a response.

After a minute, none had come.

Rianne gave Wil a nervous look over her shoulder. “Orders, sir?”

This must have been a demonstration. And if they don’t want to talk, we’ll just make ourselves the next target. Bitter anger swelled in him, frustratingly without direction since their enemy had no face it was willing to show. He suspected they were out there, watching and waiting to see what they would do. Any action beyond the scan was likely to make matters worse.

“Take us back to Headquarters,” he instructed.

Jason wordlessly rushed from the Command Center.

“Jump whenever you have a course, Curtis,” Wil called out as he followed his son out into the corridor.

Jason hurried into the small conference room directly across the hall from the Command Center, used for strategy sessions. He made it halfway across the room before the tears came.

“Jason, I’m so sorry,” Wil murmured.

“She can’t be gone,” he stammered between choked breaths. “She…”

Wil embraced his son and held him as he sobbed into his shoulder. He hadn’t seen Jason cry since he was a young teenager, and he’d always been thankful his children hadn’t needed to endure the grief of loss in their lives. Now, he wished he could do something to take his pain away.

As they stood there together, the dark starscape transitioned to the ethereal light of subspace. For once, Wil was happy for the dampening effect of subspace on his abilities, lessening the emotional turmoil he sensed in Jason. While it wasn’t the same closeness of the bond he shared with his wife, he was more connected to his children than other people. Through that tie, he felt Jason’s raw grief, shock, and confusion about what had transpired, magnifying Wil’s own emotions. But he also sensed Jason’s strength and grounding. He would be okay.

Eventually, Jason’s tears subsided and he pulled away to wipe his face. It was only then that Wil realized his own cheeks were wet.

“I don’t think I ever told you, I had a complete breakdown in this room during the war. Right after we lost Cambion.” Wil let out a bitter chuckle. “I guess we should go ahead and label it a designated therapy space.”

Jason managed a strangled laugh. “Good call.” He finished wiping his eyes.

“I know there are no words that can make this better, so I’ll just say that I will always be here for you, no matter what.” He squeezed his shoulder.

“Thanks.”

Wil returned to the Command Center to allow Jason time to process on his own. He’d learned long ago that his son was like him in that way.

While Wil knew many of the Agents who’d been stationed at the Alkeer outpost, none were more than acquaintances. The emotional distance allowed him to make an objective assessment of the issue at hand in terms of military response and security. The enemy hadn’t even shown its face, and yet they’d been able to un-make a massive structure in seconds. If that was possible, could they also destroy a planet? Or an entire system? The galaxy itself?

He re-focused his thoughts to keep from going down an unproductive tangent. Address the here and now, what’s in your control.

Rather than taking his seat in the Command Center, Wil headed for his office connected to the room. “I’m going to prepare a TSS-wide communication. Find us a good stop-off point half an hour from now so we can transmit the message.”

“Will do,” Curtis acknowledged.

The announcement that Wil needed to craft was the exact message he’d hoped to never have to deliver again. Death. Danger. Impending war. It was nasty business, but he was the TSS leader so it could only come from him.

He first prepared a briefing with the full sensor data and visual record of the incident for his senior officers. They’d need to strategize about how to respond to the enemy action, and he wanted them to have all of the information he was working with.

Next, he prepared a simplified brief for the High Council—little more than a statement that a TSS facility had been attacked and there was loss of life. His father, as the former High Commander, would read between the lines and help manage the council’s reaction. He’d wait to send that one until they were back at Headquarters, so he could be available to field the replies that would certainly come in right away. Since the Alkeer base was so remote, it was unlikely news outlets would get any notice of the destruction before then, buying a little time to formulate a response.

The final message, to the TSS as a whole, was the most difficult for him. A few years ago, he’d given an address welcoming in a new era of peace and prosperity. These were supposed to be the good years where they could relax and celebrate their victories. Instead, he needed to tell them that they were in more danger than ever. Some of their friends and colleagues had already been killed by an enemy that didn’t yet have a face or name. He wanted to offer reassurances that they’d prevail and that he had a plan. But he couldn’t lie. Not to them.

He crafted the statement as well as he could to underline the seriousness of their situation without causing a panic. There’d be questions, but the statement would buy time until they had devised an official response strategy.

Beyond that, they’d need to notify next of kin. Saera could help with that; she always had a softer touch when