Table of Contents
Chapter 1 — Celebration............................................................. 1
Chapter 2 — Defection.............................................................. 23
Chapter 3 — Wolf ...................................................................... 47
Chapter 4 — Recovery..................................................…...….... 82
Chapter 5 — Deception..............................................…............ 98
Chapter 6 — Ghost.................................................................. 120
Chapter 7 — Evacuation.................................................…...... 141
Chapter 8 — Lucifer’s Mascot ................................................ 171
Chapter 9 — Sabotage............................................................ 202
Chapter 10 — Redeployment.................................................. 225
Chapter 11 — Pirates................................................................ 246
Chapter 12 — Resort.....................................................…......... 271
Chapter 13 — Passage.............................................................. 299
Chapter 14 — Paradise............................................................. 320
Chapter 15 — Cheyenne........................................................... 348
Chapter 16 — Origins................................................................ 368
Chapter One:
Celebration
A brilliant sunrise highlighted the eastern horizon in hues of red and amber. Golden shafts of sunlight filtered through the dense canopy surrounding the clearing, providing a natural shelter for the residents. The trees were filled with the cheerful songs of waking birds and the gentle rustle of their leaves. Houses set back against the forest, in a wide arc that faced the eastern horizon, leaving the center open for community activities. They were well-maintained, but the exteriors were intentionally left rustic so as not to draw undue attention. Children raced after chickens, trying to catch them to no avail, as their mothers searched for eggs hidden in concealed recesses.
At the edge of the clearing, a small dog began to howl and was immediately joined by a chorus of his companions. A flock of birds suddenly erupted from the trees in frantic flight. A low-frequency pulse grew progressively louder until the distinct sound of rotors became audible in the crisp morning air. Villagers strained to see the inevitable. Some bolted into their houses in a desperate attempt to hide, while others comforted their children. A black military helicopter with stacked rotors rapidly emerged over the trees, then circled to confirm a landing site before returning and setting down in the clearing. The side door slammed open with a thunderous crash. Four armed soldiers exited in black uniforms, faces hidden behind masks and visors. They fired warning shots into the air, screaming over the roar of the idling rotors, “Get down. Everyone on the ground.”
The villagers huddled together in the center of the clearing, kneeling with their heads lowered as armed soldiers stood over them. A fifth uniformed soldier exited the helicopter unarmed and took up a position at the front. Unlike the others, he wore a silver armband on his left sleeve, adorned with ornate gold embroidery—clearly a sign of status. “Check the houses,” he said.
They advanced, spreading out to search the houses for residents hiding inside, dragging them back to the center with the others.
“We need three male and three female factory laborers.” As he made his selection, soldiers pulled the chosen laborers from the group and bound their wrists. A young girl cried out, tears rolling down her cheeks as a soldier reached for her father’s arm. “Please don’t take my daddy.” A woman raised her head, and a soldier struck her, sending her to the ground. “There’s no point in that. We have what we came for,”
“Yes, sir,” the soldier replied before stepping beck.
The rest of the group remained kneeling in fear as the selected workers were pushed to the rear of the helicopter and forced inside. Debris swirled under the aircraft as the rotors reached full speed. The helicopter lifted from the clearing, rising above the treetops before disappearing into the distance.
“Let’s go home.”
When the advanced survival field training concluded, the instructor met Alexander and Elise at the door. “It’s been a long road. Are the two of you getting excited about graduating?”
“I’m going to miss this place,” Alexander said.
“Not me, I want to get on with my life,” Elise responded.
“You’ll do well. You’re smart and competent, it’s a real feat moving up to a gold armband, but you were both born for it. You’ll be serving at the highest levels of government in six months.”
“Thank you, professor for your mentorship over the years. I’ll always look back on our relationship with fond memories.”
They stepped into the chilly afternoon air and walked along the stone pathway. Single-story academic buildings stretched across the elegant campus, their clean white facades broken by neatly trimmed hedges and flowering trees. As they walked, the afternoon sun emerged from behind a cloud, highlighting Alexander’s silver armband, its ornate gold embroidery reflecting the light.
“So, how did yesterday morning’s assignment go?” Elise asked.
“Same problems with Keller. I had to correct him again. I think he enjoys abusing these people. All she did was lift her head up, and he knocked her down,” Alexander said.
“Why does it matter? They’re just workers.”
“It shows a lack of discipline.”
“I don’t know why they don’t want to be laborers. They live like animals out there.”
“It’s not quite that bad, Elise.”
“I wouldn’t want to live like that. At least here they get a roof over their heads and three meals a day.”
“Neither would I.”
“Hey, let’s go get lunch.”
“You seem a little nervous today. Are you okay?” she said.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I skipped breakfast this morning. Maybe my blood sugar is a little low. Anyway, I guess we need to get lunch.”
“I can’t, sweety, not right now. I have a report that needs to get done.”
“I’ll help you with it later so you can get it done faster. I really want to talk to you.”
That got her attention.
She watched him nervously, hoping it wasn’t bad news.
They turned and headed back across the walkway. The Academy Restaurant stood near the center of the elite Imperial Military Academy—its white stone façade and tall arched windows reflected the institution’s prestige. The Empire provided a luxurious lifestyle to its citizens, enabled by forced labor. But dining here was exclusively reserved for the elite: cadets, instructors, and academy staff.
Workers wore immaculate black-and-white uniforms, greeted patrons, and escorted them to their tables. Others moved quietly through the dining hall, carrying silver trays and refilling glasses. White tablecloths draped to the floor on every table. Gold-plated silverware sat on embroidered silk napkins. Crystal drinking glasses, waiting to be filled, reflected the light, sparkling with flashes of color. Along one wall sat a glossy black grand piano with ivory keys.
“Did they get a piano?”
“Looks like it,” Alexander said.
He set their bags on an empty seat at the table, then graciously pulled the chair out for her and waited until she was seated. Elise interlaced her fingers and rested them on the table. “So, you wanted to talk to me?”
Alexander was caught up in the anticipation of what was to come. His knee rapidly bounced involuntarily under the table. Elise noticed it and placed her hand on his leg to steady it. “Okay, what’s going on?”
“Let’s wait until after lunch.”
“Alexander, you didn’t answer my question.”
“Everything’s okay. I have a surprise for you after lunch.”
The waiter nervously filled their glasses with wine before leaving the bottle on the table.
“You don’t need to be nervous.”
“I am sorry, sir. This is my first day.”
“It’s okay, you’ll learn.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Elise raised her eyebrows as he stepped away. “You shouldn’t do that.”
The waiter returned with bread, setting a piece on each plate. His hand slipped, knocking the plate back against a glass with a sharp clink. From across the room, an irritated voice called out. “Watch what you’re doing.”
He froze. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“It’s not difficult,” the voice snapped.
Alexander turned toward the voice. “It’s fine, nothing spilled.”
The waiter glanced at him, puzzled. “Thank you again, sir.” Relief flashed across his face before he moved away. Elise waited until he was gone before speaking. “You really shouldn’t interfere.”
“How did I interfere?”
“They were correcting him.”
“He made a mistake, that’s all. It wasn’t serious.”
“He’s a worker,” she said, “that’s how they learn.”
“They learn faster if they’re not humiliated.”
“Everybody’s looking at you. Can’t you just fit in, like everybody else? You’d be in trouble if you didn’t have that silver armband.”
Their meals arrived promptly. The server waited at the table. “Is there anything else you require, sir?”
She reached across the table and took his hand. “I love you,” she said.
He didn’t hesitate. “I love you too.”
“I’m glad to hear that. When you said it was important. I thought you were going to break up with me.”
“Not a chance.”
He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head, elbows widening before letting them fall back. The movement appeared spontaneous. His eyes drifted toward the seated piano player.
Her index finger pointed, as if she were scolding, but moving to the beat of the music.
Her face lit up. “Oh, that’s my favorite song.”
She listened, smiling.
Her shoulders relaxed as the melody played on.
“Did you do that?”
He shrugged. “Maybe.”
She studied him, unsure whether he was teasing or deflecting. The music drew her attention back before she could press further. The pianist was outstanding, giving each note a life of its own, letting the silence.
Elise didn’t notice when the two violinists rose from nearby tables with instruments in hand. The sound deepened as they joined the ensemble. She turned to see them standing, focused on their table.
Her eyes widened.
“Okay.” Her voice warmed. “Now, this is suspicious.”
He watched her.
The music swelled, filling the space between the tables. Conversations softened, and attention drifted toward their table in the center of the room. She sat motionless, caught between delight and disbelief.
She beamed at him in surprise. Her expression changed as understanding gradually took shape.
The server approached, carrying a large bouquet of red roses, bright blooms standing out against white wrapping. He set them in a crystal vase on the table.
She blinked. “What’s this?”
He stood.
She thought he was adjusting his chair. He stepped around the table and lowered himself onto one knee.
The music continued, steady and warm.
He held out an open box containing a small gold ring with a single diamond in the center, light glistening off the stone.
“Elise,” his voice steady as his hands gripped the box tightly. “Will you marry me?”
Her gasp was short and sharp. Her eyes overflowed with tears of happiness, unable to hold them back.
“Yes,” she said, laughing through the tears.
“Yes, of course I will.”
He stood as she drew closer. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as they laughed, and the tension slowly gave way to relief. They kissed, holding each other.
When they sat again, she kept hold of his hand, turning the ring in the light as if she needed to convince herself it was real.
The server returned with a small cart and placed two glasses on the table. He removed a bottle of champagne from a bucket of ice, popped the cork, poured, and stepped away, leaving them alone in the moment.
He took a breath, raising his glass to hers before touching. They each took a sip, set their glasses down, and reached for their bags, which they’d left on the chair.
They slipped out together, leaving the warmth and noise of the restaurant behind.
Outside, the air felt cool.
She slipped her arm through his. “You surprised me back there.”
“Good, that was the idea?”
They walked out together without looking back.
“Come with me, I need to get some shampoo,” she said.
“I can’t right now. I have a two o’clock appointment at the clinic. It’s the final medical screening for graduation.”
“It’ll only take a minute, and it’s on the way. I’ll come with you to the clinic, perhaps they can test both of us together?”
They entered a small drugstore. The shelves were half empty. Not just shampoo. Everything along the back wall had been picked clean.
Elise approached the clerk, who was patiently waiting behind the counter. “I don’t see any shampoo on the shelves. Do you have any in stock?”
“No, ma’am,” she said. “The branch that makes personal care products refused to work last week. Manufacturing halted, transport followed, and whatever inventory was sitting in storage ran out in a few days.”
“All this from one stoppage?”
“The workers do everything,” she said. “They make them, pack them, and ship them. When they stop, it all stops.”
“It’s hard to imagine it failing,” she said. “The country runs all the way west to the ocean. Cities, factories, farms…everything is connected. People assume it will always be there for them.”
“And if the workers decide otherwise? The system reminds them who’s in charge.”
“So, what happens now?”
She shrugged. “The authorities will go in. They always do. Force production back online.”
“They can be effective.”
Alexander watched her. “Brutally.”
“Sometimes.”
“Let’s go,” he said.
They snaked through the side passages behind the instructional halls. The noise of the grounds faded.
“You’re not nervous anymore?” she said.
“I’m not.”
“Good, neither am I.”
As they entered the clinic, the door slid closed behind them. Inside, everything was pale and orderly, with clean white walls, an elegant wooden desk, and a cushioned armchair positioned for consultations.
A gray-haired medical technician stood to greet them as they entered the room.
“Alexander, Elise,” he said, extending his hand. “Thank you for coming.”
He shook his hand. The grip was firm and familiar.
“We weren’t expecting you. Elise,”
“Since she’s here, could you test both of us?”
“There’s no reason to separate you. You’ve been here for twenty-five years, and you’re scheduled to graduate together. It would simplify things if we did both tests together.”
“The biological assessment is the final prerequisite. With that completed, there’s nothing left but coursework and review.”
The examination platforms were set side by side, recessed into a separate bench.
“Please. This won’t take long.”
Elise sat first, folding her hands in her lap. Alexander joined her at the next platform.
He stepped forward, holding a handheld scanner.
“If you’ll place your arm here, we can begin.”
She did. A soft glow passed beneath her skin. He nodded and made a note.
Alexander followed, resting his arm against the surface. The panel warmed beneath him.
His scan took slightly longer than Elise’s.
He remained still while the tech adjusted the device and continued the procedure.
As the light faded, he set the instrument back on the table.
“Thank you. That will be all for today.”
She smiled. “That’s it?”
“The data will be processed and reviewed. You’ll be notified when the results are finalized.”
“How long before we get the results?” he asked.
“Not long, maybe later today. It depends on how detailed the analysis is.”
He nodded. “Understood.”
“There’s nothing to be concerned about. This is routine.”
Elise fastened her armband.
He did the same, but with greater care.
“Oh, I almost forgot.”
“Your brother…” he paused, correcting himself.
“Your stepbrother was admitted to the ICU this morning.”
He stopped. “What happened?”
“He’s asking for you. It would mean a great deal to him if you came.”
She frowned. “Is he stable?”
“Yes,” the administrator said.
“I’ll stop by when I get some free time later today.”
She slipped her hand into his as they walked. “You need to go,” she said. “We grew up together, and he’s your best friend.”
He glanced ahead down the corridor.
“Yes,” he said. “We did.”
They spent the next hour on a bench along the upper walkway, talking.
A messenger from the director’s office found them late that afternoon.
“Alexander. The director would like to see both of you in his office. He wishes to discuss something with you.”
He glanced at Elise.
The director’s office overlooked the central grounds.
The spacious lawns were already marked with pale lines. Soon, they would host enormous crowds at the upcoming centennial celebration.
The director stood as they entered, smiling in a way that suggested familiarity without intimacy.
“Six months,” he said after the door closed behind them. “That’s all that’s left.”
He nodded. Elise listened closely.
“The centennial ceremony will be unlike anything that preceded it. The transition into the 100th year is both symbolic and essential. There will be crowds beyond the outer districts and delegations from every region, and you’ll be there, on the platform. Visible.”
“The Supreme Commander will address the assembly. People remember where they were when they saw it.”
“I’m honored,” Alexander said.
“As you should be. People must see continuity so they become accustomed to it.”
He turned to Elise. “You’ll be there as well.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“We’ve arranged a private tour for tomorrow. I want you to understand the scale of what’s being prepared.”
The following morning, a vehicle arrived early.
Its interior was sealed off from the sounds of the city. As they traveled, the district thinned, giving way to open ground and temporary structures. Massive video screens stood dark, awaiting content. The guide pointed them out as they passed. A gigantic photograph of the Supreme Commander loomed over the entrance, as it always had.
“Fireworks will take place along the western ridge, and the air show will precede the commander’s speech. The entire event has been meticulously planned.”
He tried to imagine it, but the vision eluded him.
Still, the 100th anniversary was more than a celebration. It was the culmination, the proof that the founders’ vision had endured.
“They walked toward the center of the grounds, the space spreading symmetrically outward with walkways radiating from the plaza.”
“The platform will be raised here. The Supreme Commander, senior ministers, and invited observers will accompany him on stage.”
“Visibility matters,” he said, pointing toward the center of the plaza.
Alexander nodded, committing its shape to memory.
The Hall of Ancestors rose beyond the plaza, its stone façade unadorned and its ornate doors already open.
Inside, the air felt icy. The narrow hallway muffled their footsteps. Light filtered down from above, diffuse and dim, touching the walls.
Large portraits were spaced at exact intervals and hung on the wall, each in identical frames.
They were formally composed, but the originals exerted a greater influence overall.
“This is the lineage. The succession of our ancestors.”
He had seen copies; so had everyone.
One portrait after another, the years merged into the present.
As they walked, Elise moved closer, grasping his hand.
“The early years were unstable. Leadership had to be decisive. That set the precedent.”
Alexander studied each portrait, unsettled by the coldness in their expressions. He first noticed the similarities in their gaze and the way they projected power.
They reached the far end of the hall, where the final portrait stood alone.
He stopped.
“This was the beginning.”
Alexander examined the canvas. It was older than the others. The paint was darker; the surface was worn in places where the restoration was preserved rather than renewed. The figure was plainly rendered, almost stark.
No embellishment.
He peered into the pale blue eyes. They were cold and piercing, raising the hair on the back of his neck.
“Of course,” he added, “you’ve already seen this in print.”
Entranced by the founders’ eyes, he was brought back to awareness by the guide’s voice.
“But I thought you should see it. The original gives it more meaning.”
“This is the founder of the empire, the builder and designer of our nation,” he said, gesturing toward the painting. “All this was possible because of him and his philosophy.”
He stood, intently staring at the portrait.
The guide turned and led them back the way they had come. “Discipline. Vision. Continuity. Keep those principles, and you won’t go wrong.”
“Someday you may be expected to embody them.”
He heard the words, but they were distant. His eyes stayed focused on the portrait.
“Do your work,” he said. “Be precise. Be reliable. Success follows preparation.”
By the time they returned to the vehicle, it was afternoon.
He glanced back as the doors closed behind them. “It was an honor to share this with you, sir. You have a promising future ahead of you.”
“Thanks for your time.”
The vehicle pulled away, leaving the hall behind.
After dusk, there was a knock on the door.
He pushed his chair back from his desk and stood, more surprised by the timing than the sound. Evening hours were usually quiet, reserved for study and preparation for the next day. He straightened his jacket and crossed the room, opening the door.
A messenger stood in the corridor.
“Sir, the director needs to see you right away.”
“Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
When he arrived, the office door stood open.
“Come in.”
He entered and came to attention. The director sat behind his desk, eyes fixed on a screen that went dark as he approached.
“Sit.”
He obeyed.
“We’ve received the final results of your biological testing.” That eased his mind, and he relaxed almost imperceptibly. He had expected a formal acknowledgment.
“There’s been a complication.”
“With the process?”
“No, with the results.”
The director activated the desk display, glanced at it once more, then deactivated it.
“We ran the analysis multiple times. We even conducted an independent verification. The conclusion was definitive.”
He waited, hands at his sides.
“You carry an impurity marker in your ancestry. Two generations removed, your grandmother.”
The words were confusing at first.
“That’s not possible.”
“It is.”
“I don’t have a grandmother.”
“Yes, you do.”
“You never met her or your mother. Your parents were selected genetic contributors. After your birth, you were transferred to institutional guardianship, and you were raised by the state.”
Alexander felt a tightness in his chest. “My parents. They were citizens.”
“They were, but your grandmother was not.”
He paused, calm and precise. “The ancestry marker lies outside the citizen line. The reclassification is mandatory. If I could make an exception, I would. You know that.”
“So… what does this mean?”
“You will be disqualified from citizenship and from graduation.”
The room lost depth, and sounds flattened.
He felt as though he were watching the exchange from a short distance away.
“You will be reassigned to worker status and issued a white armband.”
He did not respond.
“The reclassification will be finalized in forty-eight hours after a full review, at your classification, procedure requires it. You will retain full rank and authority until then.”
The motion felt delayed, as if his voice had traveled through a thick fog.
“Why wait?”
“Because you’re still the most capable officer available for tomorrow’s operation.”
“Sector Five needs four female workers. A small village. Four females only. No more than minor resistance is expected. You’ll lead the extraction and return.”
“A routine mission, clean and familiar.”
“When do I deploy?”
“First light.”
“Alexander, are you listening?”
“Sorry, sir.”
“We raised you here. You’re like a son to me,” a slight tear formed in his eye. “We didn’t have the technology to detect the impurity twenty-five years ago, when you were conceived.”
“There is one more thing. Peter’s condition has worsened. He’s been asking for you. I suggest you visit him before you leave.”
His movements were slower now, though he did not consciously notice the change.
“Yes, sir.”
At the door, the director spoke again. “Alexander.”
He turned to listen.
“I want you to understand that none of this changes how I feel about you. I’ll get you assigned here, where you belong.”
He did not trust himself to answer.
The corridor outside looked unchanged. Cadets passed him as he returned their nods.
He sat on his bed with his hands covering his face, blankly staring out a small window. The grounds below were quiet, except for a maintenance crew performing their evening tasks.
There was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” his voice was flat.
Elise stepped inside, bright as ever, the contrast stark. She smiled when she saw him. The smile faded when he didn’t rise. “There you are. I heard the director pulled you in early.”
“Yes.”
“Well?” she said, hands on her hips. “What did he want?”
He gazed back toward the window. “It was nothing.”
Her voice was hesitant and concerned. “Alexander?”
“Everything’s okay. It’s nothing.”
“You’re lying. You’re terrible at it.”
He exhaled. “I don’t feel like talking about it.”
She crossed the room and sat beside him. “You don’t get to say that anymore. Not now.”
“Elise, you won’t like this.”
“Tell me.”
“There was an issue with my testing. An impurity. In my background.”
“That’s not possible.”
“It is.”
“From where?” she said.
“From my grandmother.”
“What does that mean?”
“I won’t graduate. They’ll reclassify me as a worker.” The words sounded distant, even to him.
She took a step back. “That can’t be right. They’ll appeal it. Someone will?”
“They won’t.”
“Alexander, we can’t get married.”
“Why not?” He responded.
“If I do, I lose everything. I’ll lose my citizenship, and they’ll classify me as a worker. I hope… I hope you understand.” With fists clenched at her sides, she gasped before speaking. “I didn’t want this,” the words fragmented. “I really didn’t.”
He watched her, searching for a hint of doubt that never came. Still, he was resigned to his present reality.
She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks, one hand raised to cover her mouth as if embarrassed by the overt display of emotion. “I’m sorry. I can’t.” She turned abruptly, threw the ring on the ground, and left, running down the steps and into the darkness. The door swung shut behind her. The sound echoed, then faded, leaving the room feeling smaller without her.
He picked up the ring and slipped it into his pocket. He sat long after the last trace of movement had vanished, staring at the place where she had been. When he stood, the motion felt disconnected.
He retrieved his jacket, put it on without adjusting it, and left for the hospital.
The hospital wing was quiet, with subdued lighting. He moved through it unhurriedly, distracted by the events that had preceded.
Peter’s room was at the end of the corridor. He knocked quietly, then entered.
Peter lay propped against the bed, thinner than he had remembered. He looked pale and emaciated.
“Alexander,” Peter said with a weak smile. “You made it.”
“Of course.” He pulled the chair closer, then sat down.
“They still won’t tell me what’s wrong. Same answers every day.”
“Do they know?”
“I think so. They don’t want to say it.”
Alexander lowered his gaze. “A lot of people have been disappearing.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Nothing really. It just seems suspicious, like the government is hiding something from us.”
“They wouldn’t do that.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“You’re not yourself today.”
He tried to answer, but struggled to gather his thoughts. “I’m leading a routine mission tomorrow.”
“What’s the mission?”
Alexander stared past him without answering.
“What did you say?”
“I said, what’s the mission?” Peter’s smile faded. “You’re worried about me, aren’t you?”
He stared in Peter’s direction, eyes unfocused. A tear slipped free before he realized it had formed.
Peter reached out, gripping his forearm. “Hey brother. Don’t do that. I’ll be okay.”
He wiped his face without looking directly at him.
“It’s nothing.”
Peter squeezed his arm. “I know this is hard for you.”
Everything was becoming a struggle—thoughts dragged, his body slow to respond.
“I’ll come back.”
“I know you will.” Peter’s smile faded.
He left the room and walked down the corridor before realizing he wasn’t sure where he was going. He stopped, reoriented himself, and continued.
Back in his room, he lay down, fully clothed.
Sleep was restless.