Empire Reborn (Taran Empire Saga Book 1): A Cadicle Space Opera by A.K. DuBoff (brene brown rising strong .txt) 📗

It was unique and attracted so much interest because it was manufactured—ripped open by the Bakzen before the start of the centuries-long war. There were, however, smaller, natural rifts. These other pockets were essentially thin spots in the dimensional veil, and the Aesir had taken up residence in some of them in order to be closer to the cosmic energies. Of course, it made sense that the transdimensional beings would be able to use any rift as an access point to spacetime.

Fok! What can we do? He realized that he hadn’t acknowledged Dahl’s statement and the ancient man was waiting for a response. “Is this something you have seen in the pattern, or have you seen physical evidence?”

“For now, we have only foreseen it. But, as you know, those visions are glimpses of the pattern’s threads that have already been pulled.”

Wil had learned long ago how to decipher the metaphorical language used by the Oracles. He knew Dahl spoke of the cosmic energy web connecting places and people at critical junctures; he’d seen it for himself when he’d looked into the nexus as a young man.

His glimpse of the web changed his perception of the universe, but the greater impact was the realization that he was one of the focal points in the energy network. The Aesir had spoken of him restoring balance for Tarans and how he must fulfill his role; it was the motivation that had seen him through the war in the final push. He’d taken solace in the thought that defeating the Bakzen and seeking justice with the Priesthood would free him from his place in the web. These recent events, though, had changed all that. I’ll never be free. Even now, the Aesir are turning to me. Before now, it was I who turned to them.

He was embedded deeper than ever. No escape. The realization struck him as a physical weight.

“It has to be you, Cadicle,” Dahl said in the hushed silence. “You must be the one to guide us.”

“I don’t know anything about them. What am I supposed to do?”

“You will know the path when you see it.”

Wil wished he could end the call and have that be the end of it. The cryptic statement was one of Dahl’s favorites, and it annoyed Wil to no end. The only thing that kept him calm was the irritating truth of the statement: somehow, Wil did know what to do when it mattered most. Those instincts had saved him and his people in countless engagements. This felt different, though. None of the other enemies or conflicts had been anything like these transdimensional beings.

“I’ll go to Tararia,” Wil said. “I’ll try to speak with the beings.”

“We are behind you.” Dahl bowed his head. “May the stars favor us.”

The communication ended, leaving the room dark and quiet. Wil could feel Saera watching him, waiting for a reaction.

He spoke the only truth he could at the moment as the fate of his people once again fell on his shoulders. “I will say to you what I can’t to others: I have no idea how to fight them.”

Saera moved closer and wrapped her arm around his middle. “We’ll figure it out.”

“That’s the thing, though. I don’t know if we can.” He shook his head. “Everything that we deal with is within the scope of our own experience. Despite our great Gifts, we’re still limited to our perception of spacetime.”

“I’d argue that many of the things we do are at the borders of those limitations,” Saera pointed out.

“Perhaps. But I’m not sure it will be enough.”

“If we can’t fight them directly, then we’ll find another way forward. Not everything has to be about shows of might.”

Maybe there is another way to go about this. He nodded. “You’re right.”

“You can handle this, Wil,” Saera said. “I believe in you.” She hugged him tightly.

“I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side. What do you say we leave Michael in charge around here and tackle this one together?”

“Bring it on.”

—     —     —

Raena checked the time when she saw the image of her grandfather stifle a yawn on the viewscreen. It was after midnight for her, and he was in a time zone two hours ahead. “Stars! Sorry, I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“No, it’s all right,” he replied. “These kinds of matters take priority.”

“Not our first late night,” Ryan said.

They’d been going over the information from Duronis for hours. The events didn’t add up. Armed private mercs had seized control of two supply freighters at the planet’s primary spacedock, and then everyone had spontaneously walked away. Reviewing the security and scan footage, they had detected a lone shuttle had circled the planet’s nav beacon and then returned to port at the same time as the other mercs left. The only conclusion that they’d been able to draw was that a takeover attempt had been aborted, but it was unclear why.

“I don’t get it,” Raena murmured yet again. “They were in position. Why did everyone walk away?”

“I suspect there was another piece of the plan we don’t know about, and that must have fallen through,” Cris stated.

Ryan frowned. “A failure like this will make them want to hit even harder the next time.”

“No doubt,” Cris agreed. “At least now we know what to look for—and the kind of resources they wield.”

“Which are significant.” Raena hadn’t personally dealt with mercs, but she had a cursory understanding of how much quality armor and weapons cost on the black market. Given the number of merc and their gear, there’d been a hefty price tag associated with the operation. No one spent that much and then walked away mid-act without a compelling reason.

Cris rubbed his eyes wearily. “This close call reinforces the hypothesis that there are major players behind this disruption. Those with credits to