Cirrus was cloistered away in her office, deep in her research. She’d left strict orders not to be disturbed save only for the direst of circumstances. Drumming her fingers on her desk, she wracked her brain to find possible leads that could implicate Kaius in the theft of the orange chemical.
That they’d been foolish enough to give Kaius carte blanche when building the containment facility for the samples they’d obtained. Any and all expenses were off the books, where only the total was reported back even to the other Elders. Cirrus hadn’t paid the figure much mind when she’d first received the report, figuring that only a figure as astronomical as the one presented to her could make sense for such an important facility built in so little time.
Yet now, the amount seemed just plain absurd. The exact uses of the funds were kept hidden from her, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t get some idea of how much the facility might have cost to build.
She called her secretary. “Bring me the construction expert with the highest security clearance that does not work directly for Elder Kaius,” she ordered the man. “Make it discreet.” Once the affirmative was given to her, she hung up and continued her work. When the expert arrived, Cirrus sat her on the other side of her desk.
“Elder Cirrus,” the woman saluted, “how may I serve?”
“I need to you to read this set of blueprints and give me a rough cost estimate of what you think it would take to build something of this scale in a short amount of time,” Cirrus replied. “I do not want you to find ways to reduce expenses. It doesn’t have to be meticulously calculated. I want a ballpark figure only.” Cirrus handed over the blueprints to the expert and let her do her work.
“I understand,” the woman replied. “Is there a space where I could work in private?” she asked.
“Use the office over there,” Cirrus said, pointing towards a door on her right. The expert nodded and wasted no time gathering her things and heading towards her designated workspace.
Several hours later, she emerged from the room to report back to Cirrus. “Elder Cirrus,” she said respectfully, “I have finished my task.” Cirrus motioned for her to take a seat and present her findings.
Once the woman was done giving her estimates and reasoning behind each cost, Cirrus dismissed her and looked over the report herself rather than settle for just the summarized version. By the time she was done, she sported an ugly frown. “There’s no way the facility we tasked Kaius with building could’ve costed as much as he reported to us,” she muttered. “According to these estimates, it’s barely even half. Where did the rest of the money go?”
The more she stared at it, the less the problem made sense. She needed help, but who could she turn to that would be discreet enough in their searches yet also not turn on her? Darros came to mind, but she quickly discarded the idea of informing him of what she’d learned. He would surely use the information for his own gain and harm her in the process if that meant getting what he wanted.
Maraz was next on her list. As head of research, he routinely dealt in advanced technology and may be able to shed some light on what was used in the creation of the facility. After a moment’s thought, she decided against informing him. His votes in recent months had been for the good of the whole rather than the good of the individual. Should he decide informing Kaius about Cirrus’ investigation was the best course of action to maintain stability, he would surely sabotage her efforts.
Cirrus hummed in consideration. There was only one person left with any shred of morality that consistently adhered to her values and that was Orryn. The thought of getting help from the Elder that had been a constant thorn in her side ever since discovering the gru’ul facility left a bitter aftertaste in Cirrus’ mouth. And yet, she was certain that Orryn was her best bet and would be a staunch ally against Kaius’ actions given her thoughts on how the chemicals should be handled.
She continued to weigh the pros and cons of letting Orryn in on the secret and ultimately decided to go ahead with it. She contacted Orryn using a private, secure line and carefully explained what she’d learned. By the time she was done going over everything she had, Orryn was livid.
“That fool!” Orryn shouted, failing to keep her emotions in check and her voice with its usual calm. “He would dare study even one of those gods awful chemicals in secret? We specifically implemented measures to prevent clandestine research on something so vile.”
Upon hearing Orryn’s tirade, Cirrus knew she’d made the right decision. It happened rarely, but Cirrus found herself in total agreement with her counterpart. “The entire purpose of giving him free reign over their specialized storage facility,” Cirrus said, “was to ensure that they be properly safeguarded and that there would be no leaks about their existence.”
“Clearly, our trust was misplaced,” Orryn said darkly. “What do you think of Fahl’s testimony? Have you made any inquiries into his claims?”
Cirrus shook her head. “Not as much as I would have like since I was busy assessing the damage done to the flagship. I did, however, task Commander Cyrix with reviewing the security footage that might corroborate Fahl’s claims.”
“Do you have any idea when you’ll have anything to go over?” Orryn asked. The flagship was immense. Determining whether what Fahl had said was true or not would take some time and effort. At the moment, it remained the only lead they had into Nadi’s actions. “And besides, we already interrogated Nadi. She got off clean.”
“No,” Cirrus refuted, “she came off as credibly innocent. Not proven innocent. We accepted her version of events at the time since we discovered that Alarr wasn’t exactly the cleanest soldier.”
“Was he though?” Orryn pondered. “Or did Nadi find a way to plant that evidence that implicated him more than he actually was?”
“Just how deep do you think her plans went to avoid scrutiny?” Cirrus said. “She had no way of knowing exactly how important those chemicals are nor what they do. Do we truly have that much corruption in our midst?”
“It’s looking more and more likely,” Orryn replied. “She clearly had helpers, working for both Kaius and the Rukkan.”
“Is Kaius responsible for the leak to the Rukkan?” Cirrus said seriously. “He orchestrated getting one sample without anybody knowing and Fahl admitted to giving Nadi a sample of the purple chemical.”
“I’d like to think that our Arbiter isn’t that corrupt given the importance of the position,” Orryn said. “But now I’m not sure anymore.”
“Why did Kaius even want the orange chemical in the first place?” Cirrus asked. “It makes no sense to me.”
“It better not be to weaponize it,” Orryn said stiffly.
“There’s still so much we don’t know,” Cirrus admitted sullenly. “We need Cyrix to pull through with the security footage.” A chime went off on one of the screens floating next to Cirrus. To her surprise, it was Cyrix calling. She relayed the information to Orryn and accepted the call while keeping Orryn present.
“Elders,” Cyrix said respectfully. There was no joy in his voice and his eyes were hard. If he was surprised that Orryn was present, he didn’t show it. “I have a private report to make,” he stressed.
Cirrus waved away his concerns about having the situation with Kaius leak. “It’s fine, Commander,” she said. “Elder Orryn is aware of the situation and will help us in our investigation. You may give your report to the both of us at the same time.”
“Understood,” Cyrix said. “It would appear as though Fahl’s story has credence,” he said. “Nadi was reported to have been in the control rooms prior to meeting up with Fahl. She had her presence scrubbed from the records. Normally, I wouldn’t have noticed anything. However, she’s nowhere to be found during the timeframe Fahl mentioned. She was neither on the flagship nor planet-side. In fact, she mysteriously popped up at a location where she had no business being once the cameras turned back on.”
Stolen story; please report.
Orryn and Cirrus’s expressions turned grim. “Continue, Commander,” Cirrus instructed.
“The disabled footage traces a route leading to her meetup spot with Fahl and over to where she magically reappears on camera,” Cyrix continued. “While it could be possible that she just so happened to be in the area when the cameras were disabled, I highly doubt it.”
“Is there anything else that could incriminate her?” Orryn asked.
“Not that I could find,” Cyrix responded. “I would need a team dedicated to tracing every move she made since being on the flagship and that’s an immense amount of footage to comb through. While I might be able to find something, I simply don’t have the time to do it personally. Involving others only risks tipping our hand to Elder Kaius, who surely has a vast network in place ready to report back to him.”
Orryn and Cirrus took a moment to consider their Commander’s words. “Fahl mentioned being allowed access to the ship shortly after his release from interrogation during the incident to take stock of supplies,” Orryn said. “There must be something we could find that would trace the order back to Kaius. Already, he shouldn’t have been at the crime scene. The inventory report we received made no mention of who did it at the time, so his name was clearly removed by another person. We should also have footage of him being permitted onto the ship and not searched when he exited. Find the soldiers involved and question them.”
“Understood,” Cyrix saluted.
The Elders dismissed the Commander now that he had new orders. Orryn focused her attention back on Cirrus. “I don’t like this,” Orryn fretted. “There’s so little we can actually use to bring a case forward.”
“There must be something we can use,” Cirrus said. “If Kaius truly did steal a sample right from under our noses and even researched it in secret, he must be held accountable.”
“Is this truly the time to invite further instability given that the gru’ul have started their offensive?” Orryn asked. “We’ve already lost access to the facility. They know that we’re aware of the Mandate. Retaliation could come at any moment.”
Cirrus grimaced. “It’s not,” she admitted. “First, we need to understand just what Kaius was trying to accomplish. Then, we can choose when to bring the case forward. It doesn’t have to be right away. We can use this to our advantage.”
“You would blackmail the Arbiter?” Orryn gawked.
“It’s hardly blackmail when he knowingly committed treason,” Cirrus scoffed. “We’ll continue to gather our evidence and strike when the time is right. Is there any other way we could determine what he’s doing with the chemical?”
“He needs staff to man what I’m presuming is a second facility,” Orryn pointed out. “That means that a select amount of soldiers and researchers he deems trustworthy with a high security clearance aren’t accounted for on any of the bases and haven’t been for months.”
Cirrus pinched her nose. “That’s going to be a bloody nightmare to sort through,” she said with a sigh. “At least this task I can assign a team to do rather than attempt to do the research myself.”
“I can also dispatch some properly vetted people to help out,” Orryn said. “That should help speed things along.”
“At this point, I’ll take all the help I can get,” Cirrus replied. “If what Fahl said was true, I understand his request for additional protection now. I’ll quietly replace his guard detail with soldiers I know aren’t loyal to Kaius and increase security around his cell.”
“What if Kaius notices?” Orryn asked.
“We tell him that a traitor with such vital information needs to be properly secured to ensure no outsiders learn what he knows,” Cirrus said. “It’s a bit flimsy, but nothing he can really go against.”
“Who else knows about this?” Orryn asked.
“Only the two of us and Commander Cyrix,” Cirrus said. “I’ve instructed him to keep this from General Nessah for now, at least until we know where her loyalties lie. Kaius has been motivated to include her in our more private discussions and votes when she had no business being present. That’s incredibly alarming given the recent turn of events.”
“I agree,” Orryn said. “I’ll do what I can from my side, and I’ll keep you posted with my findings.”
Cirrus nodded and ended the call. She found herself alone in her office once more. Her role as an Elder required proper politicking when needed, but never had she had to prove high treason from one of their own. Still, she knew it was for the best. A clean house would let them focus on the war properly. Orryn was right, after all. The gru’ul were coming.
And the thought terrified her.
Researcher Roke was astounded at the pace with which their research into the orange chemical’s synthesis had progressed thanks to the mysterious person Elder Kaius had introduced to him. Presented simply as Ava, the woman had truly worked magic with the facility’s findings. Almost all of the elements that escaped even the brightest minds working under him had been accurately deduced in a frighteningly short period of time.
Roke didn’t know where Kaius had found such a talented individual who was also apparently well-versed in gru’ul technology, and he didn’t want to. The Tribunal had many secrets, and he assumed Ava was one of them. Somebody that knowledgeable would not be permitted to live as an ordinary civilian once their talent was discovered.
Currently seated at his desk in his office, Roke awaited Ava’s call impatiently, eager to see what she’d discovered since their last discussion. When the call came, he wasted no time in answering. “Ava,” he said, “have you learned anything else?”
Ava nodded. “I have,” she said simply.
Her not elaborating further as she normally did gave Roke pause. Hardly able to contain his excitement, he asked, “Well, what is it?”
Ava regarded the him in silent contemplation, still choosing not to speak. “Should we really be doing this?” she asked quietly. “This chemical is awful. Why are we trying so hard to synthesize it.”
Roke’s enthusiasm immediately died down. Even though he’d been absorbed in the potential for scientific advancement, he hadn’t forgotten that they were working on creating something inherently vile. “We have our orders,” he said somberly. “I can’t go against them and if it’s not us, it will be somebody else.”
“If it’s not me, you mean,” Ava said sadly. “You weren’t making any progress whatsoever until I came along. I’m actively working to bring immense pain to others, even after I’d promised myself I wouldn’t do so any longer.”
It was Roke’s turn to go silent. “This would have happened without you, just on a longer timeline,” he said, trying to reassure the only person capable of bringing their research to fruition.
“It would have never happened, and we both know it,” Ava replied. “I’m just as guilty as the gru’ul for conceiving this chemical.” Anything that brought her closer to her creators left a sour taste in her mouth. Following in their footsteps was something she wanted to avoid at all costs.
Yet here she was doing just that.
“The gru’ul will come for us,” Roke said. “And they’ll most likely use this chemical against us when they do. We need to level the playing field. Make it so that there are consequences when they land on Verilia.”
“Do you truly believe that or are you just trying to convince yourself that what we’re doing here isn’t wrong?” Ava said. “The gru’ul won’t bother with a ground invasion if they can help it.”
“That doesn’t remove the possibility of it happening,” Roke countered. “We need to be ready for when they do.”
“And that readiness means turning into the very monsters we’re fighting?” Ava scoffed. “You’re a fool if you think this won’t be used once the war is over.”
“That assumes we survive the war,” Roke said. “We need every advantage we can get, including this one. I don’t like it any more than you do. I hate myself for being the one tasked with synthesizing the chemical a reality.”
“Sure had me fooled,” Ava mocked. “The only reason I’m here in the first place is because I’m not in any position to go against the War Tribunal. I wasn’t asked nor ordered. I was politely threatened.”
“I understand how you feel, but it changes nothing,” Roke replied. “We have a task to accomplish, and little time left to do so. Now then, what did you discover?”
“I know the way to synthesize the chemical,” Ava revealed reluctantly.
“That’s wonderful news!” Roke brightened. “How’d you figure it out so quickly?”
“I ran countless simulations,” Ava replied.
“I don’t know what software you’re using but clearly it’s leaps and bounds ahead of what we have here at the lab,” Roke said. “Is there any way you could share your methods with us?”
Ava smile sharply. “Simulations happen to be something I’m very good at,” she said. “Unfortunately, the method isn’t replicable. You’ll have to make do with what I feed you.”
Roke frowned. “That’s fine. What do we need to make the chemical?” he asked.
“That’s the problem,” Ava said. “You need technology you haven’t created yet.”
“How in the hells are we supposed to do our jobs then?” Roke exclaimed in anger. “You clearly know what technology is needed if you were able to figure out how to make it.”
“That’s right,” Ava said. “I also happen to have created the blueprints for the machines you’ll need to synthesize the chemical.”
Roke paused. “You managed to create the blueprints too?” he asked, stunned. A chime went off on his data slate. He cast a quick glance and saw that it was a set of files from Ava. He opened one and saw, much to his surprise, incredibly detailed schematics. “Just who are you?” he couldn’t help but ask.
“That’s classified,” Ava said. “I’ve given you what you need. I’m officially washing my hands of this project. Any weapons you create will be on your conscience.”
“Elder Kaius won’t let you go so easily,” Roke warned.
“Kaius can rot in hell for all I care,” Ava spat. “He’s the reason any of this is happening. He enlisted my help once, but he won’t be able to do it again and he knows it.”
The screen turned off without any warning and Roke found himself alone in his office with everything he needed to fulfill his mission. Ava’s words echoed loudly in his mind, and he questioned whether he truly wanted to be the one responsible for weaponizing such evil. Eventually, he came to a decision.
And opened the files.
