BT - Chapter 13

"You remember me?" I asked, unable to hide my surprise. We had only spent a few hours together on

Bethany, years ago now.

She smiled with what seemed like genuine warmth. "I remember you quite clearly. You were remarkable out there." I’d heard that voice in broadcasts, but hearing it directed at me was something else. It was warm and precise, with an underlying firmness that made every word feel deliberately chosen. She tilted her head. "I tended to some of your shrapnel wounds, if I recall. You were not particularly cooperative."

A small snort escaped me. "Yeah, that sounds like me. I still have the scars to remind me."

She pushed a button on the side of the wall and a door swung open. Together we stepped into yet another hallway, and then she continued, "Yeah, that was an interesting day. That region really needed help." A short pause and an "Um" as she brushed some hair from her face to wrap it behind her ear. "I kept a loose eye on you from afar, during the Bethany years. I never did reach out directly… I’m sorry for what happened."

A small wince behind my eye.

"I wanted you to know that your retirement after that was perfectly reasonable in my opinion. I’m glad you were with us through Bethany."

"Yeah well," I said, carrying on, continuing to walk beside her. "You can imagine my… surprise… being asked to come here."

"You must have so many questions for me." She paused and added, "Questions I usually prefer not to answer… but things are a lot different now, huh?" A hint of playfulness in her tone, like trying to be formal with an old friend. This was

Sun Jin Kaisara, talking to me so casually?

"Namely questions about how you defeated all those soldiers so easily. I saw it. Many others did throughout the Bethany war, but broadcasts and logs never mentioned your kit. The swords you used, the armor, that energy weapon system. I've been dying to know since the last time I asked... You were rather evasive when I asked you about it after that fight. I really had forgotten all about it until today."

"Don't forget that I only handled the second half of them. It was you who took care of the first group. In the end, you did more damage than me."

My mind drifted back to my hiding spot, crouching behind a pile of debris and covered in dust. I could hear my heavy breathing as I clutched two pistols tightly in my hands. With each shot, I could drop someone from just a quick peek around the side of the barricade. Over the next few years, my skill with firearms earned me a reputation within the battalion - it seemed I was the best marksman of our time. I really hoped I wasn't here for some assassination job, again. That’s what lead to my retirement in the first place and frankly I would walk out of here, despite the company.

"The tank, though. That was me, wasn't it?" She tilted her head slightly, reaching for the memory.

"Yeah," I said, keeping my voice low as we passed a cluster of staff.

"You were rough around the edges back then. But I saw something in you. I've been watching you for a long time, Rio. Waiting for the right moment." She glanced at me sidelong. "You're not like the others, and I know you know that."

A job offer. I heard myself think it before she could say it. She wasn't going to tell me anything about those swords or her armor. She was too careful for that. And a job was exactly what I'd been dreading since the moment I was escorted through that door.

"You know why you’re here, and yes, I have an opportunity for you."

I let out a slow breath and looked ahead. "With respect, my Empress, like we said, I'm retired. I mean that sincerely and respect."

"I know you do."

I kept walking for a moment before I spoke again. What did she actually need from me? "Tell me what it is," I said. "Then I'll give you my answer."

She chuckled with a small shake of her head. I didn’t like this answer already. "Let’s just say it’s so secret that you aren’t even here right now." As she spoke she lifted her hands playfully almost making fun of her own words. That sounded pretty cliché. I think she knew that, thought, and that’s why she was mocking herself. Then she proved it. "I suppose that sounded really special-agent fancy talk, huh?"

Since she was seemingly being more playful than formal I played along, "A little bit, yeah."

"Well," she continued, "it actually is sort of special agent stuff, actually. Though I can’t really tell you the details until I know you’re committed."

I inhaled, "Then…"

She lifted a finger interrupting as she paused her gait and turned toward me. "What I can tell you is that you’ll have your own ship and you’ll be traveling into an uncharted area of outer rim space. I need you to track someone. Strictly recon work, Rio. No having to kill anyone or… anything dirty. And you'll be reporting to me personally, and I mean directly to me."

Again, I sighed a bit. Sure, it wasn't wet work but… I wanted out. I admired her so much, but unless this mission was going to better the people of the Sun Jin Empire… "I mean no disrespect, but it sounds like anybody could do that, right? If it’s strictly reconnaissance, why did you seek me out for my gun slinging efficiency?"

"Not because of your combat efficiency, but because of your 'people efficiency'." She took a long steady breath before continuing, turning her head to look at me a bit sympathetically. "I know how you feel Rio. How you actually feel. It doesn't bother me that you're disillusioned with the counterattack plans. It's reasonable."

How did she know this? I hardly talked about it to anyone. I had a reputation to hold. Just how close had she been watching me over all these years? It's not like a system of keeping tabs was very well established back then.

"That's made you a person who puts the people first," she continued, "At a soul level, and that's what I need. Someone who I know will make the right choices when presented to them, regardless of what it means to me, the Empire, or others." She bit her lower lip a bit, facing forward, but eyes on the floor. "Rio," she started.

"Yeah," I responded simply after a pause from her lips.

"I know that you’ve spent your entire life trying to figure out exactly who you are. You’ve wanted to know exactly what’s made you special. You know your gift for perception isn’t… normal. Believe it or not this is all related to that. This job may indirectly help you find your answers."

I just… watched her for a moment. No words, yet.

A door slid open into what I assumed were her personal quarters. It was smaller than I expected, more of a study than a suite. As I stepped inside, my eyes caught on shelves filled with strange artifacts of stone and metal, things that looked ancient. A desk and computer screen dominated the main space, with the foot of a bed just visible in an adjoining alcove.

The area to the left of the doorway after I just entered had a long couch that lined the wall. Sitting in it was another woman, though I didn't recognize her race. Her fur was an ash gray color with white highlights, resembling a Caistealian, but with the lean, predatory build of a hunter. Her hair followed suit with its primary ash color and a shocking red streaks of red that matched her fiery red eyes. Her arm rested comfortably on the backrest of the couch, clawing its surface softly as she eyed me with cold body language. Those eyes were familiar: the same flat, predatory patience I’d seen in soldiers who had stopped flinching at the things they’d done. Her heavily scarred arms were unburdened by clothing from her tactical zip up vest, making them stand out even more. Who was this person? I could feel something menacing emanating from her glare, and we locked our eyes together for a few moments before I forced myself to look away. Sun Jin Kaisara's presence brought about little comfort in this tense situation.

I watched Kaisara walk around the dimly lit room and sit at the desk. I still stood near the doorway in front of her. "It’s sort of funny. I was promoted to colonel and the last few job offers I’ve had, even though I’m retired, were to lead a brigade or air groups. Just one ship though, huh?"

Kaisara adjusted her glasses and resat them on her short-furred muzzle to examine a data pad. "Yeah. It’s the fastest ship we could retrofit to have all the stealth and business you’ll need. It’s not some battleship or something. Just a 100 meter cutter."

I folded my hands behind my back. "Manhunt, huh? Bringing someone in?"

Kaisara’s answer was a chuckle as she shook her head. The woman sitting down snorted a bit as well.

"What?"

Kaisara's eyes slowly rose to meet mine, her glasses perched on the edge of her nose. Her previously cheerful expression took on a more serious tone. "You can't just bring him in," she said, her words hesitant and calculated.

I caught the data pad and looked at the cover page, which showed a mission plan, but only the cover was readable. The rest was restricted, locked. My gaze shifted over to the wolf-like woman sitting on the couch, and back at Kaisara.

She seemed to anticipate my next question before I could even ask it. "Her name is Akima from the Ciberling Family. She's from a remote planet called Danje. She came to us with information that changed the direction of our search entirely. With her information, we initiated an attack on a planet called

Quall using the

Esther. Sure enough, we saw him, the one I want you to find, engaged in combat before he managed to escape after realizing who we were."

"So, you weren't originally looking for him on Quall?" I asked curiously.

"The beasts name is

Flarion, and I had a feeling he might show up on the planet Quall. The history of him and Quall is intertwined with a," she paused and let her finger dance in thought, "Interesting history with Flarion. I suspected an attack would draw him out. Akima's knowledge of the planet's location and history proved invaluable. But even with our combined skills, we'd be no match for Flarion. His size and strength were unmatched, and it would take more than just brute force to bring him in."

"Did you say he was a beast?" I asked, unable to hide my curiosity.

Kaisara nodded slowly, her expression serious. "You don't forget something like that. Each talon longer than your forearm, and he moves like he knew exactly how small he made everything else look."

My apartment came to mind. The counters I kept spotless. The silence I'd built around myself. The rifle I could outshoot anyone with, always had, and no one had ever been able to tell me why—not even me. Kaisara's armor. The way she wore those swords like a second skeleton, back when the war was still something I believed in. The technology that had turned a rebellion into an empire, and the question of where any of it had actually come from.

And then the other things. The bottle on the counter next to the clean dishes. A man's back under my claws. The same loop, over and over.

I looked back at Akima. Those red eyes hadn't moved off me.

I looked down at the data pad. The mission plan stared back. I thought about saying no. I thought about what no looked like: the apartment, the counter, the bottle. I thought about what yes looked like and couldn't picture it at all, which was either the best or worst reason I'd ever had for doing anything.

"Where do we start?"

Kaisara interlaced her fingers and rested her hands on her desk. She hesitated for a moment, studying her hands before looking up at me. "This may take a moment to explain. It's a small patch of disputed territory, less than a light year in size, torn apart by two tribal factions for millennia. Despite both being technologically advanced, they live very differently. They've recently agreed to leave each other alone after generations of slow, drawn-out war."

I didn't ask how she knew about uncharted territory that wasn't on any map I'd ever seen. I didn't ask why she was reciting this like she'd memorized it a long time ago, in a different life. She wasn't reading off a brief. She knew exactly what she was talking about, and something about that made me want to take a step back toward the door.

"These two cultures make up the home of two different Templar tribes."

"Kaisara." I kept my voice even. "You're certain Flarion is out there?"

"Maybe. The

Nightfall Templar reside on a planet called

Magnum—Flarion's home. The

Neverborn Templar live on a planet called

Eveny. Eveny is where I'd like to send you two."

"But if Flarion is from Magnum, why wouldn't we just—"

"Because they would kill you," she said, cutting me off with a sudden harsh tone. "The Nightfall don't welcome outsiders," she said, her voice flat. "They make sacrifices under their Red Sun. Setting foot on Magnum is a death sentence."

I didn't know what to do with that answer. I tapped my nails against the data pad. It had unlocked at some point without me noticing. There was a lot on it. More than a lot. I skimmed the first page and stopped. This investigation had been running for years. She hadn't just anticipated I'd say yes. She'd been waiting for me specifically.

"However," Kaisara continued, "you must be cautious. These Templar tribes do not usually welcome outsiders easily. The Neverborn on Eveny are less violent, but they have their own ways. They tend to find their own talented individuals and train them as they mature. Your presence may disrupt this."

I was still skimming the pad. Then I wasn't. "Abilities?" I said.

She leaned forward, elbows on the desk. "The Templar are highly specialized. They can perform feats that I actually think you’ve seen before, almost ten years ago."

I lowered the pad a bit, in thought. Ten years ago. A woman moving with remarkable speed. Energy that didn't come from any weapon I recognized. A blade she used like she was born with it.

Kaisara. She was talking about herself. She watched me work through it. She didn't rush me.

I nodded slowly. I didn't know if I felt relieved that it finally made sense, or if I felt something colder than that. The particular feeling of realizing someone has known exactly who you are for a very long time, and you are only now finding out who they are.

"Maybe that gives you somewhere to start,

"Some," I said as I let out a deep breath and shook my head in disbelief. "You mean there are more people who can fight like you do? Why have I never heard of this?"

"Templar keep to themselves. Territorial disputes, the affairs of others, none of it concerns them. Just isolationism. Their abilities are considerable, but they come with complications of their own." She paused, measuring something. "My current position makes me too visible. Too known. I’m from Magnum. I grew up there, and I visited Eveny as well, years ago, on diplomatic terms. But that was before the Empire. Before the war." She gestured once, a single unhurried motion that took in the room, the desk, all of it.

"Diplomatic terms. On Eveny."

"I am Nightfall Templar. I held a senior position within the tribe." A brief stillness before she continued. "As head of the Sun Jin Empire, I would not be received on Eveny the way I once was. Then, I was simply an ambassador from a rival tribe. Now I would be an ambassador who also commands an empire. That distinction would not be lost on them."

"So you need someone who isn't you."

The corner of her mouth moved. "There you go." She folded her hands on the desk. "I need to know whether Flarion has been to Eveny, or is there now. I have ruled out Magnum. His presence on Eveny would be unusual, but it is not impossible."

It was almost impossible to accept, yet the truth stood before me. I had seen her in battle. Her speed and grace unparalleled. Now the legends finally aligned with reality. And I was not alone in this revelation. "You’re sending us to Eveny because your intelligence on Magnum has gone cold, alright."

Kaisara inclined her head, her composure unwavering. "Magnum is his home, yet something in him has shifted. His motives elude me, and he has withdrawn from every ally, myself included. If you find him, just tell me. Don’t attempt to engage with him."

A warmth spread through me as the pieces fell into place: the Templar, Flarion, and Kaisara’s own remarkable prowess. I rubbed my forehead and exhaled, letting the clarity settle. I turned to Akima. "And you encountered him on Quall?"

She lounged across the couch, one arm draped casually over the back, leg crossed with effortless poise. "I did. He is a magnificent creature," she said, her tone crisp. "It seems our paths will converge as hunters."

I nodded, scrutinizing her. Clearly Akima’s role in this mission surpassed what I had been told. We were to venture into uncharted reaches together, and I resolved to learn her true purpose. Kaisara clearly trusted her, which made her a necessary part of the mission. But she was not an ally. Not yet. Kaisara clearly favored her tip that sent them first to Quall, and now to me.

I turned back to the Kaisara. "And you believe I…" I raised my hand, miming the squeeze of a trigger towards the ceiling.

She closed her eyes for a heartbeat, then opened them with serene authority. "It is not unlikely," she said, voice soft yet commanding. "Eveny will reveal much, about this pursuit, and about you. There you will understand why you can pick up a precision rifle, range a target a kilometer off, and strike it dead-center every time."

A muscle in my jaw twitched, but I hid it with a nod as I raised my gaze from the datapad. "Unless someone pivots and walks in the way, right?" I muttered.

Silence answered me. Her lips parted as if to speak, then closed again. In that brief shadow across her features, I saw a glimpse of sorrow. Perhaps a reflection of my own demons.

In less than an hour I was in the locker room, staring at the gear laid out before me. I stripped off my uniform and pulled on something that felt more like me: loose-fit camouflage cargo shorts and a black Sun Jin compression tank top trimmed in pale blue. In the mirror I forced a smile, posed, even made finger-guns for fun once, but under it something still felt hollow, like a mask I was meant to wear. Because beneath the thrill of "special agent" was a knot of doubts I couldn’t shake. Find Flarion, sure, but to what end?

Kaisara had personally tapped me for this undercover mission, promised me the empire’s full backing, even pressed a special ID into my hand so no one would dare question my authority. The idea should have filled me with pride, but instead I felt the old weight settle back onto my shoulders: the sense that I was running from something, chasing purpose to outrun my own self-destruction. Her final words echoed in my mind. She needed someone who would choose right over loyalty, and I realized I needed this chance not just for her, but for me. Of course the thought that maybe this is why she chose me ran rampant. She knew I’d accept. A small deployment to feel important again, to figure out who I might become if I could set aside the waste of a life I had been consuming myself with.

I lifted a sniper rifle from the rack and looked down its sights, finger resting lightly on the trigger guard. The tech hadn’t changed in years. Sleek, familiar, and I wondered whether I’d ever fire it. I hoped this mission would be over before blood would be shed, but still, there was an irresistible draw in facing a new kind of warrior. Templar operatives with their uncanny abilities? I found myself drawn to a lightweight precision model. A flash of memory: my father, patient and proud, finally teaching me to shoot back on the old family farm, with mother's permission, of course.

Questions burned behind my eyes as I slid the rifle back. Why did Kaisara covet Flarion, this "magnificent creature"? An old ally? A secret weapon? She already had warships that could level continents… what did she intend to do with him? I wish I had seen what Akima had seen on Quall, since she saw him there.

I reached for my two .45 automatics, then a third because I saw it on the rack just calling for me. It felt wrong to leave one behind. I settled them into their holsters with a familiar click. One on either side of my belt and another in the back. The weight was a comfort, a reminder that I wasn’t entirely powerless. These guns had stood by me before and maybe, just maybe, they’d help me discover who I truly was beyond the uniform and beyond the doubts I carried into this locker room.

Akima was already crossing the docking bay when I spotted her, moving toward a large slick transport shuttle with a

Bethian pilot at her side. I jogged to close the distance, my bag swinging against my hip, and rifle bouncing on my shoulder.

She glanced down at me mid-stride. Looked at the guns and gear and snorted.

"Really?"

"What?"

She faced forward again without answering. Alright then.

Up close she was something else entirely. Nearly a foot taller than me, ash-gray fur with white running through it, red-streaked hair pulled back tight. No bag, no rifle. Just a two-handed imperial combat sword sheathed at her left hip. Her build was lean, almost deceptively so, but the muscle she carried sat dense and close to the bone. The kind that doesn't show until it has to. I made a quiet note not to find out what that felt like firsthand.

Akima vanished into one of the sleeping quarters before I'd even found my footing. I made my way to the cockpit instead and dropped into the co-pilot's chair. The shuttle was small but well-appointed—business stations, two quarters, the kind of clean interior design that matched the Esther's aesthetic. Wherever this technology came from, it all came from the same place.

The pilot settled in beside me with practiced efficiency, clipboard already in hand. The engines came up with a low, building roar and I felt the grin spread across my face before I could stop it. I wasn't thinking about Akima or her attitude. I was thinking about the ship.

The pilot glanced over at me, amused. "Alright. Where are we taking this very excited Caistealian today?" He flipped the page and his eyebrows went up. "Oh. The

Silver Slayer." He let out a low whistle. "They only just pulled that one into the fleet."

He murmured something into his earpiece and the shuttle lifted free. We drifted out beyond the docking bay doors into open space, and the pilot banked left, tracing the Esther's hull toward its tail. The scale of it erased any sense of speed. We could have been hovering for all I could tell, the hull just a horizon that refused to end.

And there it was. The fleet.

Ships as far as I could see, flanking the Esther on all sides. Shuttles and cargo vessels threaded between the larger hulls in organized lanes, some climbing toward the Esther's docking bays, others descending toward Bethany's surface. All of it deliberate. All of it building toward something. The front line vessels would stay put and continue holding the Systems Alliance at bay the way they always had, but this fleet was different. This was the new tip of the spear, assembled to cut through the stalemates and continue its pilgrimage to its true target, toward

Amber Krowe.

"That's the one, Colonel." The pilot extended a gloved finger toward a vessel ahead of us. "The Silver Slayer."

I leaned forward. It wasn't the largest ship out there, not even close, but something about it held my eye. Dark gray hull, polished clean, with a long flat body and two swept wings riding back along its hindquarters, built for atmosphere as much as open space. Refurbished, they'd said. It didn't look it. It looked fresh out of the shipyards.

"Just the two of you aboard," the pilot continued. "Designed for five or six, but the AI picks up the slack. Heard they stripped her for speed and stealth. Rumor is, size for size, she's the fastest ship in the fleet for her size." He shook his head slowly. "Honestly, Colonel? I'm a little jealous."

"Never had my own ship before," I told him as he passed me the binder. "Hard to call it a command without a crew. Plenty of shuttles and transports, but nothing beyond that."

He laughed quietly. "Some people need the ground under them. Me, I need this." He glanced out at the stars. "I don't know what you're flying into, but safe travels, Colonel."

Safe travels. Simple words but kind ones. I turned them over as I tucked the binder under my arm. This pilot had no idea where I was going or why, and yet there was something in the way he said it, genuine, unhurried, that made the weight of it land differently. Whatever Akima and I found out there, whatever we brought back, it would ripple outward to people like him eventually. That was the idea, anyway. End the war faster. Let the Empire breathe. Let it become what I had originally believed it could be, back before I understood what sustaining it actually cost.

The cockpit of the Silver Slayer itself was sleek and streamlined, a dark gray shell of reinforced paneling that curved around the forward seats like cupped hands. Two pilot chairs sat side by side, separated by a communications console close enough to reach without leaning, its surface glowing faintly with standby indicators. Behind them, a third seat faced a dormant row of secondary systems, their screens dark and waiting. The whole arrangement reminded me of a fighter craft's intimacy, but scaled up and refined. Every surface finished, every edge deliberate. I settled into the left seat and wrapped my hands around the flight yoke, which had the solid, balanced feel.

Akima's rattling sword announced her before she reached the cockpit seats. She stopped beside me without a word, arms folding across her chest, and looked out through the forward window. Her red-streaked hair was down now, jacket gone. Fair enough. We'd be living in this hull for a while.

Clearance came through and I eased the throttle forward. The Silver Slayer took it and ran with it. The acceleration pressed me back softly before I'd fully registered we were moving. If it were not for the inertial dampeners that acceleration would have been trouble. Through the side window the fleet peeled away behind us, destroyer after carrier after troop transport after vessels I couldn't name, until all of it compressed into a single sprawling field of running lights shrinking into the black.

"Eveny," I mumbled, keying in the coordinates.

I'd watched enough documentaries to know the broad strokes: subspace compression, sub-reality transit, shockwave propulsion, but the engineering of it had always slipped past me. What I did know was that it worked. Bethany to Amber Krowe in months, normally. In the Silver Slayer, maybe a week?

I leaned back and let the light play across the nose of the ship, streams of energy folding and unfolding like something alive.

No going back now.