The front door opened, marking the return of the others. Seated at the kitchen table, Reya stood up to meet them in the entrance, slowing when she saw the expressions on Adrian and Stanley’s faces. She looked at Rann who only shrugged. The sinking feeling in her stomach could no longer be ignored. “Are you alright?” she asked Adrian in concern. He flashed her a weary smile, but his heart wasn’t in it, she could tell. Her gaze shifted to Stanley, who wore a blank expression. With a faraway look, he settled down on one of the couches in the living room and stared off into space.

  “Do you think we could go on a walk?” Adrian asked her.

  “What about Stanley?” Reya motioned towards him. “Are we going to leave him there like that?”

  “I doubt he’ll notice if we’re gone. He’d probably be glad for the time alone. I wouldn’t be surprised if he goes into his room and shuts himself in there for a few hours.”

  Adrian grabbed her hand and guided her towards the front door. Reya allowed herself to be moved and put her shoes on, taking his hand again once she was good to go. The pair followed one of their usual passes in the vicinity of the house for when they wanted a decent walk without straying too far.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Reya broke the silence once they’d walked far enough away into the trail to be in private. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, which he returned. Bramble crunched under their feet from the forest surrounding them. Blue and purple leaves clinging to branches arched overhead as they walked past a familiar patch of dancer mushrooms. Dark blue shrubs parted into an uneven path wide enough for two people to walk side by side. Their bright red berries that he’d since learned were edible decorated their trail.

  “Kell gave us an update on his research into Stanley’s blood. He had some news that he absolutely wanted Stanley to hear. I almost left right then, but the look of desperation on his face convinced me to stay. He promised not to reveal any details about what he found, so I agreed.”

  Reya sucked in a breath. “And?” She knew Adrian wanted nothing to do with any results of the experiments performed on him.

  He took a deep breath before speaking again. “Whatever they did to Stanley in our last experiment together is going to kill him. He’s dying, and they want to research him more in hopes of finding a cure for him. Kell asked for a sample from me to help.”

  She gaped. “They want to do more research on you?” Worry filled her voice. They’d discussed the possibility of the Tribunal demanding more from him before and had always known they’d come back demanding more from him one day. He’d alluded to a final experiment before being placed in his pod more than once over the months that they’d known each other, but still hadn’t divulged the specifics. The only thing he’d confirmed was that many people had died in horrific agony.

  “Yes, in the name of saving Stanley. It’s finally happening. They’re not going to stop, and it’ll only get worse from here.” Adrian’s grip on Reya’s tightened. He looked at her, terror in his eyes. Tears welled in them. “What if they strap me to an operating table?” His voice quivered. “At what point will they be satisfied?” Their pace slowed to a crawl. “What if they don’t stop?” he whispered.

  “I’ll be there to make sure that doesn’t happen,” Reya said staunchly. She hated seeing her beloved suffer from a threat that constantly loomed over him. Much like him, she wanted everything that had happened regarding the facility to be put behind them.

  “How would you stop them if they choose to make a move?” They stopped walking and Adrian gave her a searching look. Reya’s eyes hardened and turned cold.

  “I’ll go public and make them regret ever treating you like a tool,” she replied with steel in her voice. “They won’t be able to touch you if others know that you exist.”

  Adrian shook his head. “There’s no way they’d let you do that. I’m sure they’re monitoring any communications from us and the team.”

  “I’ll find a way. The day they so much as touch a hair on your head is the day they’ll regret ever thinking of such a folly. I’m not losing you. Not now, not ever.” Reya collected Adrian in her arms and held him gently yet firmly.

  They remained together for a short while longer and then separated. “What do I do about Stanley?” he asked, conflicted. “If I don’t help, he might die. If I do help, he still might die but has a chance to live – at the cost of me being studied.”

  “Leave him to his fate,” Reya said, more harshly than intended. “You’ve had so much done to you I can’t see how studying you will make a difference. This is the Tribunal being greedy. They’ve found a way to exploit the situation to get what they want.”

  “That’s it then – I leave him to die?” Adrian asked, surprised.

  “He’s the reason you weren’t able to escape back on Earth. He’s partly responsible for sending you to the gru’ul,” she spat. “Even though he didn’t experiment on you directly, he dug his own grave by taking away your only chance to escape. He condemned you to a fate worse than death and for that, I’ll never forgive him.”

  “I’ve already seen so much death,” Adrian said with a haunted look, “and I’m responsible for some of it. I don’t know if I want another body on my conscience when I could have helped save him.”

  Reya’s look softened. “It’s not your fault those people died. The scientists must have known the experiments would be highly lethal and still went ahead with it. Nobody had a say in the matter.”

  “It’s my blood that got them all killed,” he said in a low voice. “It’s because of me they died.”

  Reya frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

  Adrian hesitated. “I’ve already told you that the last experiment they performed was horrific. For once, I wasn’t experimented on directly, for which I’m eternally grateful.” He shuddered as he remembered the screams of his fellow test subjects as they begged for death. “It’s not something I like talking about. Stanley forced me to tell the Tribunal about it and now they think I’m a biohazard. Since they know, I want you to know as well. Do you want to learn?”

  Reya pondered the offer. Hearing about Adrian’s suffering was always difficult for her, but she couldn’t afford for the Tribunal to know vital information that she didn’t. She eyed the conflicted expression on his face. He needed her, she realized. Needed for somebody who wasn’t trying to control him to understand. “Yes,” she said seriously. “I’ll always be here to talk about what happened. I’ve already told you, you’re no longer alone. When you need someone to talk to, I’ll listen.”

  He looked Reya in the eyes with adoration before assuming a heavy expression and recounting, in graphic detail, what had transpired during the final transfusion experiment. She listened without interrupting him, choosing to wait until he was done before asking any questions.

  “That’s terrible,” she said sadly once Adrian finished. “So much needless death – all in the name of science. They deserve to rot in in the lowest hell for what they did. Have they no conscience?”

  “You should have seen them. Once they realized Stanley survived, the researchers celebrated. There was blood and dead bodies piled up in the room and they congratulated themselves for a job well done.”

  “Were the researchers we contacted the ones who led the experiment?”

  “Yes. Who knows how many they killed to satisfy their egos?” Adrian sighed. “None of this helps me figure out whether I should give a sample of my blood to Kell.”

  Reya gave him a long, assessing look. “The stakes are too high. If I had to choose between keeping you safe or risking something happening to you once they study you, I’d rather you stay safe. Even if that means that Stanley dies. Kell’s a brilliant man. He’ll figure something out, I’m sure of it.”

  “What if he doesn’t? Then I’ll have sat by and let a man die when I could’ve made a difference.”

  “I don’t think studying you is the answer they’re looking for to save Stanley. We don’t know what’s wrong with him and the Tribunal could be trying to use this to take advantage of you.” The pair resumed walking, making their way down the uneven path, taking care not to trip over any roots that peeked out of the ground. “I’ll stand by you, whatever you do. Just know that I won’t think any less of you for being selfish for once. You have a big heart and I love you for that, but sometimes you need to put yourself first.”

  Adrian hesitated, conflicted. They walked in silence, Reya giving him the space to contemplate what he felt was the right decision, knowing that he would have to bear the consequences whatever he chose for the rest of his life. Minutes stretched on as he thought, but he hardly noticed. He tilted his head to look at her as they walked, taking in a sight more beautiful than the scenery around them. He would do anything to keep her safe and happy.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  Even if that meant condemning another man to his death.

  Sytha frowned as she compiled her latest report. As the General’s secretary, information constantly flowed through her. She was the filter between what reached the Nessah’s ears and what did not, knowing who came, who went and for what reasons. All valuable details, but not necessarily needed by somebody of Nessah’s standing.

  While she generally maintained a solid grasp on current affairs, she’d known something was up the moment Reya had walked out of the General’s office wearing the Silver Star. One simply did not receive an award of such prestige without there being some incredibly important reason.

  But nothing ever came of it.

  She’d kept an ear open for anything relating to Reya. At first, there had been rumours – whisperings of a new Silver Star holder. The soldiers, however, believed that there would’ve been some form of announcement for something so important and without any, the notion was easily dismissed.

  Until now.

  Somehow, security footage of Reya leaving the building wearing the medal of honour had been leaked. The few soldiers present had been grilled by their comrades and swore up and down that it was real. The news spread like wildfire and now even she was hearing it being openly discussed.

  She wasn’t a fool. Information on Reya was being actively suppressed. Sytha hadn’t been able to access her file to run a security check before she’d met with the General. Rather, she’d been shown an image of Reya and ordered to let her pass without question when she came to meet Nessah. The rest was classified.

  Even to her.

  And out Reya had come from that meeting, wearing the Silver Star. Rather than ask obvious questions, Sytha kept quiet on the matter, sensing that it was sensitive. With one of their flagships gone without warning, she figured the two were related. If she could put these facts together, then so could others. And they had. What had once been almost unheard of was now the hot topic of speculation amongst the troops.

  It had finally gotten to the point where Nessah needed to be made aware of the developments before they blew up even more. She transferred the data from the holoscreen in front of her to her data slate and double checked her report. It contained a timeline of everything she was able to learn about the situation on such short notice.

  Sytha stood up and walked behind her desk towards the large, imposing double doors. She opened without knocking, Nessah already aware that she wanted to speak with her immediately. Stepping onto the lush red carpet, Sytha took in the sight of the General sitting at her desk. A piercing gaze followed her as she closed the distance between them. Once she was several feet away, she stopped and saluted Nessah, keeping the pose until she was dismissed.

  “What happened?” Nessah asked tersely. Sytha launched into an explanation, getting to the point as quickly as possible. By the time she was done, Nessah had brought a hand to her face and sported a weary expression. “What was I thinking, letting her walk out into the open wearing the medal like that?”

  “I’ve got a more detailed report for you, although it still doesn’t have all the details. I knew this was time-sensitive and wanted to bring it to your attention as soon as I knew enough about the situation.”

  Nessah could only sigh. “Send it to me. I’ll need to read it over to see how bad it really is. Do you think this will go away on its own?”

  Sytha hesitated before answering. “Odds are slim,” she said grimly. “This is causing too much of a buzz for it to be quieted. People would start asking questions if it were.”

  “Gods dammit,” Nessah swore so softly Sytha barely heard. “How long do we have to make a statement?”

  Sytha thought for a moment, her expression turning pensive. “A couple of days. A week at most. This is becoming really big, really fast. It won’t be too long until the press catches wind of this.”

  Nessah sighed again. “Is there anything else you need to tell me?” When no answer came, she dismissed her secretary. She watched in silence as the woman left the room without saying a word. There had been questions in her eyes that luckily she’d refrained from asking before turning to leave.

  Sytha’s report came in and Nessah took the time to read it carefully, after which she called for a non-emergency Tribunal meeting. The first in a while, she mused. To her surprise, her demand was answered shortly after by Kaius, informing her that she was to join the Tribunal’s meeting to give her report.

  After informing Sytha that she would be unavailable for the foreseeable future, she made her way to the only other door in the room and passed the biometric scans that kept it sealed. The ever-familiar podium greeted her. With soft footsteps, she walked over and took her spot. Once ready, she alerted Kaius.

  Seven figures winked into existence around the curved desk spread along the equally curved wall in front of her. Nessah craned her neck slightly in order to look at Kaius, who was directly across from her, sitting at the head of the desk.

  “General,” he said, “what has happened? Pray it not be another disaster.”

  “It’s not a disaster,” Nessah said, pausing ever so slightly after the last word, “yet.” She could feel the collective sigh that loosed from every Elder. She launched into an explanation, conveying what she knew of the situation.

  After being grilled for every detail she knew, she was dismissed. The holographic figures in front of her disappeared without a trace. Leaving the room and sitting at her desk, she opened the drawer and withdrew a decanter and a glass. She poured herself a small amount and sipped it slowly, trying to figure out what the best response would be.

  “I want whoever’s responsible for this fired and banished from the military!” Cirrus fumed after Nessah was dismissed. “Can’t we go one day without anything happening?”

  “That’s a bit excessive without knowing more,” Orryn said. “I’d rather we detain those responsible for questioning to see how much they actually know.”

  “From what the General said, they’re only aware of the fact that Reya’s a new Silver Star holder. That’s big news if proven to be true,” Maraz said. He looked around the room, surveying the other Elders’ expressions. “It’s too late to put a lid on it, we might as well figure what to do for when it’s confirmed.”

  “We would have had to show Reya off to society after the mission was over anyway. Perhaps we can keep the spotlight on her, rather than what we’re actually doing?” Orryn said.

  “One slip-up is all it takes,” Cirrus grumbled. “We can’t afford for the mission to be found out.”

  “One of our flagships is missing, people are going to notice,” Orryn refuted. “The world already suspects something’s up. People aren’t going to accept us publicly acknowledging Reya without talking about why we awarded her the Silver Star.”

  “That’s exactly the problem! Any leaks could jeopardize the mission and you want to admit to its existence, publicly? Are you out of your mind!?” Cirrus gaped.

  “We’re not going to be able to hide this. We need to spin the story so that the world doesn’t learn the specifics.”

  “We still have a chance to stop it from spreading further!”

  Maraz shook his head. “It’s out there, Cirrus, and it’s not going to magically disappear. At this point, it’s damage control not damage prevention. The hand we show must not be one with Adrian in it. I propose acknowledging Reya when the situation becomes too concerning. We still have some time before that happens; we can start preparing.”

  “We should’ve never given her that award,” Cirrus spat. “It’s causing us more trouble than it’s worth.”

  “Miss Ayala has fulfilled the criteria for being awarded that medal of honour,” Kaius said gravely. “You remember the videos we saw, especially that last one. What she went through in our name was atrocious and deserves to be recognized.”

  Cirrus shuddered at the mention. “Fine,” she begrudgingly acquiesced. “I won’t deny how sickening that was to watch.”

  “By the gods how I pity the woman,” Orryn said, shaking her head. “And to think Adrian suffered the same multiple times.” The rest of the room nodded gravely. If Irric’s findings were to be trusted, the video they had of Adrian was merely one among many.

  “We shall put it to a vote then,” Kaius said. “All those in favour of completely suppressing information on Reya, vote now.” An orb of light immediately popped into existence above Cirrus’ head, followed by one other lone light. He looked around, waiting to ensure that everybody had voted. “Let the records show that we will not attempt to prevent the propagation of this rumour, we will merely slow it. Those in favour of acknowledging Reya’s Silver Star status when the time is right, vote now.” The four orbs appeared in the air above the other Elders’ heads, the ones already there disappearing instead. “Let the records show the result of this vote.”

  Cirrus sighed in frustration.

  It was supposed to be a short trip back to her cell, yet she wasted hours in the ship’s holding cell without anything to do. When she was finally released, Ava was shocked at the increase in personnel guarding the ship. Rather than the usual two escorts, an entire squad formed a ring around her and escorted her to her cell on the flagship.

  That was the first clue she had that something had happened. The second was when an entire day passed without her being brought back out of her cell to work with Irric. Her daily routine had remained unchanged since she’d made her deal with the Tribunal. She expected some upset to her usual schedule after the discovery of the chemicals, but such a deviation from the norm was unexpected.

  Irric’s orders to kill her should she make a move for the chemicals they’d discovered brought back the unpleasant chill of fear for her life. The Tribunal was willing to renege on their promises for what they’d discovered and a slow, mounting dread had her wondering if they somehow blamed her for whatever went wrong.

  To distract herself, she focused inwards into her dataspace and continued to work on the puzzle that was her own mind. More processing power was dedicated to the task as time went on. She analyzed the successful code that had allowed for them to partially crack the Highest’s terminal and discover the vials that led to such an extreme reaction. Comparing it to previous failures, she adapted it to her current situation.

  Satisfied with the program she’d written, Ava ran it. Whenever they worked on the Highest’s terminal, a large amount of time was spent waiting for the code to do its job. The encryption was no laughing matter, its complexity mind-boggling, even to her.

  As such, she expected several hours to pass her by while her latest attempt ran in the background. Yet after a week without so much as an error message, the code was still running. Ava was reticent to terminate it early, unsure what the damage might be if she did.

  Without any feedback, she had no way of knowing whether she’d be successful and therefore wasn’t able to continue working on the project. She paced in her cell, unable to sit still. For over a week she’d sat still; sometimes on the floor, others on the bed she didn’t need. But no longer could she bear the stillness.

  A soft ding in the back of her mind alerted her that her program had finally finished running its course. She stopped dead. With an end to her boredom in sight, she rushed to check the results. What she found astounded her. Her code had worked. Her dataspace was finally free from outside influence and was now wholly hers.

  She dove into the newly available data, combing over every piece of her core directives that had once been hidden from her. Her purpose was laid bare before her as the reason for her creation was finally explained. Behind it all was the Mandate, she learned. The one true guiding directive from which everything else was derived. With trepidation, she accessed it to learn its secrets.

  And understood.