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The planet Galywix II was not a populous planet by galactic standards, but today it felt as if all ten point two billion people had turned out to its capital, Liberty City, for the festivities. I squeezed between a young couple, dodged half a dozen children racing underfoot and barely evaded an old man who’d walked in my path as I made my way toward my designated high-rise.
Two days earlier, the dozens of Dread Legion agents and I had landed on Galywix II, courtesy of customs officials belonging to a group called the Sons of Liberty, a freedom-fighter organization. I supposed that’s what the Dread Legion was, since we were fighting for the freedom of the undead.
Once we’d made landfall, Captain Wilson had gone over the plans while Colonel Schattler had looked on. He’d designated all the buildings and given us tours of them. He’d marked out every piece of the plan and what role each member would play. Then he’d gone over the plan twice more, making for a long day.
I learned the Dread Legion had picked Galywix II because of its smaller size and its fervently loyal Federation population. The thought was security forces would be lulled into a false sense of security, giving us an opening. An attack like this would never have success on Tar Ebon or any tier one world with surveillance and security everywhere. But here, on a planet that technology-wise reminded me of my home world, there was far less police presence and the Shadow Watch Guard had only arrived the day before.
I rubbed the handle of the leather case in my hand with my thumb. I would be the weapon of their demise.
I’d offered to use my powers during the attack, but the colonel and his shadowy associates had vetoed that. They argued it would immediately make clear who was responsible and paint a target on my back. They said they wanted to pin this on the Cult of Rae, though how that would gain more respect for the undead was something I hadn’t understood, until I overheard the captain telling several agitators to shout expletives against the undead during the time leading up to the attack. Whether there actually were any undead among the dignitaries was irrelevant - all that mattered is public perception that hatred of undead had caused the heinous attack. Thus, the living would rally around the undead.
I approached the Galactic Hotel and the doorman nodded to me as he swung the door open. Another Son of Liberty, his father had been wrongfully imprisoned on Delgin V, the prison planet, and he wanted revenge. He held out a room key, which I swiped. “Straight to the elevator,” he whispered as I passed. “The way is clear.”
I nodded without responding to him and made for the elevator. I wasn’t alone, but the young couple with three children paid me no mind. I punched the number four button and rode the way in silence, ignoring the blatant looks from the family. I wanted to shout at them - to ask if they’d never seen my kind or something - but I wanted to be as unremarkable as possible. Blend in, I reminded myself. A lot was riding on me.
Once on the fourth floor, I found the room, swiped the key card and entered. I breathed in the infuriatingly clean scent that accompanied seemingly every upscale hotel, then set to work. Tossing the leather case on the bed, I opened the latch and withdrew the first piece of my sniper rifle. I set about assembling it at a leisurely pace - I had at least fifteen minutes before my target came on stage.
Captain Wilson hadn’t told me who my target was, yet. He explained it was need-to-know and to be ready for the first speaker. A stolen pamphlet showed the first speaker’s name as Xavier Clement, and a query by Jarvis revealed the man to be a philanthropic billionaire. But why keep that a secret from me?
I placed my rifle on the bed minutes later and took out my binoculars. Then, at the window, I determined the range from my window to the place directly behind the podium. Captain Wilson had stressed the importance of a head or heart shot. “One shot, one kill,” had been his words, which I’d laughed at. He acted as if I hadn’t been trained as a Ranger.
Would I still be a Ranger, after this day? After I killed this man? Could I go back to serving the Federation that so clearly wanted me dead? A blasphemous thought arose, telling me I should go to my father and explain things. Let him open an investigation, the proverbial angel on my shoulder whispered. There doesn’t need to be bloodshed.
“Yes, there does,” I said before I realized I was talking to myself. I shook my head. Now was not the time to start going insane. “Ghost Ranger in position,” I said into the encrypted handheld radio I’d been given. Captain Wilson explained not everyone had implants and there was no way to be sure they were one-hundred percent secure. Instead two-way radios using special encryption were being employed. I had my doubts about these being secure, but it wouldn’t matter in a few minutes.
I watched the swaying of the crowd for several minutes before movement behind the stage caught my eye. It was time. The crowd started cheering, though I heard fragments of the protests staged by my fellow agents. “Undead go home!” and “Undead stay dead!” were among them. Right on time.
“Ghost Ranger, prepare to take the shot on my mark.”
“Yes, sir.” I lifted the window and shouldered my rifle. There would be no tip sticking out to give me away today. But I’d have to waste no time getting to the extraction point after I fired.
A man, looking to be in his middle-years, with combed over black hair and a shiny smile stepped up on stage. I followed him with my rifle, sighting in on his head as he came to stop behind the podium.
“That’s Xavier,” Captain Wilson said through the radio.
I nodded, which caused the scope to drift up for a moment. A flash of black behind Xavier caught my eye. I moved the rifle up slightly and froze. A Shadow Watch Guard stood in one corner of the stage, rifle held at ease, head swiveling this way and that. Zooming out, I got a view of the entire stage and found a Guard in each corner and one directly behind Xavier. Something wasn’t right. Only high-ranking government or military officials got Shadow Watch Guard details, and this man was neither. I refocused on his face as he began to speak.
“My fellow citizens,” he began. “I apologize for the subterfuge, but I did not want to detract from today’s guests and the enthusiasm built up for this stop on the tour.” He smiled. “At least until now.” He touched a hand to his face and it changed, re-arranging itself until...I gasped. The face of my father smiled out at the crowd.
The crowd went wild, cheering and screaming even more than before. They hadn’t expected the Supreme Commander of the Federation to be there to speak to them.
I stared in shock, arm shaking. They wanted me to shoot my father?
“Ghost Ranger, take the shot,” Captain Wilson ordered.
I froze, finger on the trigger. All the rage I’d felt toward the Federation melted away as my father became the face of said entity. Memories of growing up, of sitting on his lap reading stories, of him seeing me off to my first dance and so many other experiences bubbled to the surface, threatening to overwhelm me. A tear slid down my cheek.
“Ghost Ranger, take the shot,” Captain Wilson ordered again.
“No.” The word surprised me. I’d committed, I’d said yes. Was I really going to back out now?
“Take. The. Shot.” Wilson’s words were deliberate yet forceful.
“I can’t,” I said.
“You said you wanted to avenge your friends. You said you want equal rights for the undead. This is how you get them. This is the shot that starts a revolution, Rachel! Fire the shot!”
I didn’t want to, but I had to explain. “He’s my father.”
“We know,” a second voice cut in. Colonel Schattler. “Why do you think we chose you for this mission, Rachel? Did you really think your flimsy disguise could keep you hidden from us? You didn’t even change your name.”
I’d been assured the disguise was air-tight. But that didn’t matter now. My father’s life hung in the balance. “I won’t do it.”
The colonel tutted. “Still a silly girl at heart, I see. No matter, we prepared for this eventuality. Captain, proceed.”
Fear clenched my throat as I realized the implication. He’d said he would be at a high vantage point to oversee the operation. Now I realized he was also in a position to take the shot in case I refused.
Unable to call for help in time, I did the only thing I could. Bang. My bullet sliced through the air faster than even my eye could track and slammed into the wooden podium at my father’s feet. Come on, I thought, lowering the rifle and waiting for the second bang. Would my warning be enough?
My father looked down at the cracked wood, then up, seemingly straight in my direction.
A flash caught my eye from atop the building across from me. The bullet soared toward my father from where Captain Wilson had been hiding as the crack reverberated through the air. The projectile streaked toward my father and passed through him as he blurred. The wood behind him cracked as the bullet impacted. There’s his famous time-bending powers, I thought. With my warning, he’d been able to slow time around himself long enough to dodge the bullet, making it seem to me, an outside observer, that it had passed through his blurring body.
Within a heartbeat five armored Shadow Watch Guards swarmed my father, huddling over him, while at least a dozen more surged from behind the stage, rifles raised and pointed in every direction.
“All teams, evac now!” Captain Wilson snapped through the radio. “And Rachel...you’ll pay for this.” The line went dead and the radio grew hot. I tossed it toward the bed and it exploded mid-air. A fail-safe to ensure the investigators couldn’t trace it back.
I stood there, dumbfounded. What to do now? If I evacuated through the planned route, the Dread Legion members would try their best to kill me. But if I stayed? I watched dozens of security forces lead by black-clad Shadow Watch Guards swarm my hotel and the one across the way. Meanwhile, the familiar roar of gunship engines heralded air support. Would they hesitate to fire missiles into my room, no questions asked? I made for the door of my room, not wanting to find out.
I’d made it halfway to the door when a shadowy mist appeared, causing me to stop. It formed into the shape of a human a heartbeat later and there stood Isabelle in her synth-suit, helmet down. Her weapons sat at her side and she had her arms crossed. “You really stepped in it this time, cousin,” she said.
“Isabelle. How...?” How had she known where I was? How had she even known it was me? But I couldn’t get the words out.
“I figured whoever made that shot was either a shitty sniper or someone who cared about my uncle.” She held out her hand. “Take my hand. We have to get out of here before those muscle-bound hotheads show up to shoot first and ask questions later.”
“But I just...I just tried to kill my father,” I said.
“But you didn’t. See the distinction?” She sighed. “Listen, take my hand and we’ll get out of here, then everything will be explained. Deal?”
In the distance, I could hear the crash of doors being broken into on my floor. It would be a matter of seconds before they reached my room. Stepping forward, I clasped her hand.
“Good choice. Hang on!” The world turned to shadow as we shifted.