EPILOGUE
“Is there anything else you neglected to tell me?” General Larkkon deepened his undertone to rumble through the council’s boardroom and give an edge to his anger. “Any other state secrets you’ve deemed too sensitive for the Imperial Military?”
Heads would roll for this. Larkkon, for one, hoped one of those heads would come from atop Vesar’s sinister shoulders.
Agent Terrokk winced at the General’s displeasure and shifted to stand deeper in Vesar’s shadow. Larkkon’s apprentice, Xular, observed the conversation from a similar, silent position at Larkkon’s side.
Doctor Lsar’s apprentice, Nerzogk, was notably absent.
“It was necessary for you to be in the dark regarding the asset’s origin,” Director Vesar repeated the claim with an icy hiss. “I needed him to trust you. And it was working quite well for a while. Don’t you think?”
Larkkon’s scales bristled. “In what way, exactly, is this the result of something working quite well?” The base below the boardroom’s transparent floor buzzed from the day’s frantic aftermath. Comms were down; the outer tarmac was damaged. And the narrative surrounding their internal breach was becoming increasingly difficult to manage. The General grit his razor teeth, barely managing to keep from slamming a fist against the conference table.
“You are too quick to label it a failure,” Vesar cautioned.
General Larkkon lowered his voice to a growl. “And what would you call this—other than a failure?”
Vesar’s beady eyes narrowed. “A setback,” he answered. “If we play it right, this breach may work in our favor—as long as the traitors don’t get themselves killed before we can recover them.”
Vor’s redirected daylight continued to fade with the oncoming night.
“If either of you hadn’t insisted on taking him out of my lab in the first place—” Doctor Lsar’s silky voice interrupted their argument. Both the General and Director gave her a sideways glare. Her objection trailed off, and her scarlet hand on the table tightened into a fist. “Both of you are at fault for losing my only workable specimen. This matter is bigger than your egos,” she scolded them with a deceptive velvet tone.
“How long have you had that Niribian relic?” General Larkkon challenged her.
“A while,” she answered dismissively.
“And the Aviator? Did he come with it?” Larkkon pressed the subject with a hiss.
Director Vesar’s eyes shifted to the sapphire-skinned baetian standing behind General Larkkon’s shoulder.
“I’m sure you didn’t come up with that theory on your own. Did your apprentice uncover something while in the asset’s mind?” he pried.
The rival council members locked eyes. Their prolonged silence weighed heavier than the prior argument.
“This isn’t necessarily a loss.” Vesar ended their silent stand-off by tilting his diamond-dazzled head. “Two of our operatives are with the asset. Vor’s children are raised to identify with the Empire’s struggles. They may have abandoned their duties—but it will not be so easy for them to abandon their species.”
“You can be the one, then, to give the Emperor the good news,” Larkkon suggested. He addressed the albino menace across from him without breaking their prolonged eye contact.
“Very well,” Vesar accepted the verdict, signing off on it by being the first one to blink. “I miscalculated the asset’s sway over Lsar’s apprentice. I will take responsibility. And you, I hope, will cooperate with the search efforts.”
General Larkkon answered with a slow, reluctant nod.
Director Vesar stood and signaled for his apprentice to follow him out.
“On top of everything else,” Lsar sighed while standing to join the Director’s exit, “this debacle has cost me my best assistant. And our best mechanic.” Her scales gleamed in the dying redirected light. “It is unlikely we’ll find suitable replacements from the available stock.”
She left without waiting for a response. Her scarlet frame contrasted with Vesar’s as their distinguished forms vanished along the suspended walkway.
After their vacancy settled, Larkkon let exhaustion replace his scowl. “Well?” he asked his apprentice without looking over his shoulder. “Is there anything to the Director’s guess? Anything you uncovered in the asset’s mind you neglected to share with me?”
“He is nothing more than an asset again?” Xular’s music chided.
Larkkon’s frown deepened. “I owe no pity to traitors.”
Agent Xular slipped into a chair adjacent to the General, showing no sign of concern for the day’s events or the chaotic activity far below.
“Speak your mind, agent,” General Larkkon sighed. “I’m tired of lies and omissions.”
The baetian’s sapphire skin seemed to glow in the spire’s dusk. “We were hindering his progress here.”
General Larkkon hardened his gaze. “Don’t tell me you were involved in this.”
“I was not,” Xular’s slow music affirmed. “It is, however, in the larger picture, not necessarily a bad thing to have happened. The Aviator will have to develop his skills if he is to survive. If the three of them are to survive. And, once his potential is fully developed, he will inevitably come into conflict with the Legion hive.” Xular’s poreless chin tilted. “In a way,” they mused, “this is a much better outcome for the Empire. And for the galaxy at large.”
“If he survives,” General Larkkon repeated the qualifier with a frown.
“Yes. If he survives.”
“And where do you stand in all of this, agent?” General Larkkon didn’t hide his surfacing suspicion. “When you joined me, you swore you’d remain the Vor Empire’s ally no matter what conclusion awaited us.”
“I have not forgotten my promise,” Xular confirmed.
General Larkkon raised a skeptical brow as the baetian’s mouth half melted back into their blank complexion. He had once considered himself a good judge of character. After today, however—after being stabbed in the back by three of his star operatives—the General doubted the intentions of everyone in his orbit.
“It is not only the Empire struggling due to my people’s sins,” Xular admitted. “I will see this through to its conclusion. And I will, as always, remain an ally until that point.”
“And beyond that?” Larkkon tested.
“It remains to be determined if either of us will exist beyond that.” Xular’s sculpted voice ebbed through the room even after their temporary mouth faded.
The lingering clarification did little to ease Larkkon’s worries.
Instead of delving further into it, he and his apprentice settled back to watch the chaos caused by the Aviator’s escape unravel below their feet.