Guardian Training Academy – North Polar Region of the Moon
Lost in thought, Naomi Cruz paced the floor outside the Lord Marshal’s office suite, wondering why on earth she had been summoned to the training wing at such short notice.
Less than an hour ago, she’d still been reveling in the best New Year’s Day ever with her family and close circle of friends in São Joaquim, Brazil. The small get-together her parents had planned for the previous evening had ended up being so much fun that most of the neighbors joined in, escalating a quiet affair into a full-blown Brazilian style street party. A party that carried on through the night and still showed no signs of slowing at nine o’clock the next morning. To her surprise, a usually reserved Naomi loved it.
Naomi was enjoying a late breakfast at home when the mental command cut through the bonhomie like a hot knife through butter. Whispering quietly to her parents that she was required for duty, she excused herself and, after quickly showering and changing into uniform, had transferred to the Academy’s new location on the Moon. Naomi’s route took her via her latest place of work, the cloaked Guardian Observation Station parked in geo-peripatetic orbit above Antarctica. A necessary diversion while she was still learning how to use her teleport, or T-Ring, over such a vast distance.
Arriving fifteen minutes ago, Naomi couldn’t help but feel somewhat unsettled. So far as she was aware, she hadn’t broken any protocols; she had conducted herself and her duties impeccably; and, having deliberated at depth, was positive she hadn’t upset anyone or infringed psi-etiquette in any way that might result in such a blunt order.
In fact, after running a number of different scenarios through in her head, so sure was she that nothing could be amiss, that she was eager to get to the bottom of this conundrum. Stepping forward impulsively, her knuckles rapped like a tattoo across the stained oak panel of the Lord Marshal’s private entrance.
“Come in,” Earl Foster’s voice called from inside the room.
Tentatively, Naomi reached for the handle and realized she was sweating. Muttering a swift curse, she wiped her palm on her sleeve, took a deep breath and went to meet her over imagined doom.
The Lord Marshal’s leather-backed mahogany chair behind his desk was conspicuously empty. His usual place at the head of an oval slab of granite that served as a conference and meeting area was likewise vacant. Craning her neck, Naomi spotted him down at the far end of the chamber, relaxing on one of the three large couches forming an open-ended box around a circular coffee table. Situated next to an imposing set of panoramic windows overlooking the vista of space, the formality of such an arrangement was offset by a jaw dropping backcloth, for the Earth hung there in plain sight, a glittering orb captured on an epic canvass layered in vacuum and stars. Wow! Who needs a Constable or a Turner when you have a view like that? She looks even more beautiful at this distance than from up . . . ?
Remembering why she was here, Naomi dragged her attention away from the mother of all fixtures and only then realized Earl Foster wasn’t alone. Sitting side by side on the sofa opposite him were Jade Heung, head of the Procurator Division—which Naomi was proud to be part of—and her former chief, Commander Anatt Yasin.
Anatt smiled warmly and waved. Nodding toward the couch sandwiched between the two parties, she said, “Hello, Naomi. Come and sit down. We need to talk to you about something.”
Trying hard not to let her anxiety run away with itself, Naomi stepped forward. Even so, the Lord Marshal must have sensed her apprehension, for he added, “Don’t worry. This should be fairly painless . . . so long as you’re not too attached to working in an Observation Station, that is.”
What? Naomi couldn’t help but project her surprise telepathically. Halting in mid-stride, she verbally exclaimed, “Sir?”
Earl’s gaze flicked briefly to his colleagues. “This will be your last tour, Naomi. It was a difficult decision to make, but it had to be done.”
“My last . . . ? Why, what have I done?”
Pointing to a sheaf of papers and electronic reports scattered across the table, Jade interposed. “Quite a lot really. That’s the topic we’ve been mulling over in your absence.”
Naomi caught her next question as she was about to utter it. Suddenly suspicious, she bit her bottom lip, narrowed her eyes and stopped panicking. Bringing her hypercognitive metafaculty to bear, she then mentally scrutinized her performance over the past year.
All this took a mere three seconds.
Other things didn’t escape her attention either. Her superiors were sat in a relaxed manner about the table. From what she could see, their mugs were still half full of steaming coffee. What’s more, their auras betrayed no hint of concern, anger or disappointment.
Addressing the group as a whole, Naomi cut right to the chase. “Sir, what’s going on? I admit I was nervous when I first came in, but that’s natural when someone like me is called in before someone like you. Regardless, that doesn’t happen unless the officer concerned is facing a serious disciplinary matter. And this is no disciplinary hearing, there are too many giveaways indicating as much. Something else is obviously happening. Do you mind my asking what that is . . . exactly?”
Anatt couldn’t contain herself. Waggling her finger like a schoolteacher at the Lord Marshal, she chided, “I told you she was sharp, Earl, and with enough guts to question us directly!”
“No second guesses needed to tell us where she got that from then?” Jade raised one eyebrow and stared directly at her colleague, who simply shrugged in reply.
“So, who’s going to tell her?” Anatt pressed.
Earl pursed his lips for a moment, but couldn’t prevent a broad grin from lighting up his features. “Boss’ perks. Sorry ladies, but I get to break the good news.”
The older women graced each other with an, I told you so look, before indicating that Naomi should sit down.
An undercurrent of excitement began to predominate, running between the others in sparking arcs of scarlet and gold. Naomi did her best to relax, but found her curiosity mounting by the second.
As she walked around the table to take her seat, Earl began. “We’ve called you here today for a number of reasons, the least of which is your latest annual appraisal, so I think we’d better start with that.”
He picked up one of the m-pads from the pile, flicked through several screens, and displayed the gist of their contents in the air before them. “Top percentile in every subject across the board; extremely capable operationally, as events over the past year have proven; able to remain calm and objective under stress, no doubt assisted by your extremely versatile cognitive faculty that gives you the ability to compartmentalize multiple scenarios simultaneously . . . a skill well in advance of what we would normally expect for one of your limited experience.
“Your latest psi-evaluation is also interesting, as the annual tests indicate your gifts are maturing at a faster than average rate. Let me see . . . High Grand Master indicators in all ultrasenses—with an intriguing additional factor included that shows you’re verging on precog awareness—Grand Master potential telekinetic, healer, and shielder.”
The Lord Marshal raised his voice in query. “Did you realize you’ve already attained Grand Master Class strength in all but a few of your abilities?”
Looking as genuinely surprised as she felt, Naomi came to a stop again. She shook her head, slowly, “No, Sir. I didn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I have felt my psi-well expanding; you could say intensifying in certain ways inside me. But I thought that was just a manifestation of my overall psychic maturation. I didn’t appreciate I’d grown that much . . . well, except . . . .”
“Go on, Naomi.” Anatt urged gently.
Naomi turned her sensibilities inward and examined those aspects of her nexus that were still a mystery. “Well, now that you mention it, I have noticed something different about my ultrasenses. When I’m conductive active scans, be it through the Search Enhancing Psioptics interlink or bare brained, my analytical insights somehow blend to . . . and . . . I don’t know how to put it plainly. It boosts my sensitivity? I’m doing it so often that it seems to click on, like I’m on autopilot, allowing me to factor in multiple awareness and response levels as I go. Because the THOR systems allocate task after task in quick succession, it’s totally slipped my mind how easy it’s been lately to multitask those assignments. Even with a million and one other things demanding my attention, I manage to maintain primary dexterity and focus lock without breaking a sweat.”
Jade was clearly impressed. “You can compartmentalize with that degree of finesse and precision already? We really must take a closer look at you with the latest generation Compilator. It’s still undergoing final testing, but it’s the most sensitive recorder we’ve had to date. I’d love to get a more detailed breakdown of your psidetic complexus. It should indicate by what factor your performance is increasing.”
The Lord Procurator’s eyes narrowed as she considered what such an assay might reveal. Next to her, grinning broadly, Anatt slapped her thigh and crowed, “I did say I knew my people better than most! That’s why I want her so much.”
Want me? Naomi was puzzled and repeated herself aloud before she realized what she’d done. “Want me! What for?”
Earl gestured for Naomi to sit once again and waited until she had finally taken a seat on the vacant couch before pouring her a mug of coffee and placing it on the table before her.
Such comforts must have been ancillary to requirements—at least, from Anatt Yasin’s point of view—for she delivered a stunning mental prompt, so sharp, that it made the Lord Marshal wince.
Clearing his throat, he threw the commander a dirty look, composed himself, then gave his complete attention over to Naomi. “We have a special task in mind for you that must remain strictly confidential for another month or so. However, we need to know if you are in agreement with what we propose before revealing further details.”
I’m not in trouble! Naomi was too numbed to feel any sort of relief or elation. Swallowing hard, she coughed, and stammered, “So, er, wh . . . what do I need to agree to?”
“Firstly, that you’ll be happy to accept your promotion to the rank of Guardian Master, effective immediately.”
Winking, the Lord Marshal leaned forward and sent an extrasensory command toward a small box on the table. A brief, click, followed and it opened silently with a graceful ease that only heightened Naomi’s expectations.
Overawed, her gaze came to rest on an unusual dark green gem lying on a scarlet cushion. So dark in fact, that it was almost black. A plasma staff power crystal!
Naomi was aware that the crystals had to be replaced on a regular basis as a candidate matured. It was only by adopting such a procedure that the weapons were able to manage the increasing potential channeled through them as each Guardian grew into a fully developed psychic entity. All the same, Naomi was astounded to think she had gained that much strength in so short a time.
Moving deliberately, Earl extended his hand toward her baton and, displaying the utmost dexterity, employed his telekinesis to pluck it from the concealed sheath within her robes. Suspending it so that the base of the handle was closest to him, he worked deftly, manipulating the micro-mechanisms of the spring until the cap fell away to reveal the softly glowing peacock blue power core.
Removing the housing, he maneuvered both jewels until they hovered, side by side in the air, and touched them briefly together. There was a bright flash as a bundle of stored information transferred instantly from one unit to the other, and Naomi only just managed to blink her vision clear in time to witness the aquamarine gem flaring for a second time before crumbling into a fine powdery residue.
As a smattering of dust particles pattered slowly to the floor, the Lord Marshal nudged the now pulsing dark green crystal into the vacant slot. After resealing the outer casing, he edged the grip back within Naomi’s reach. “If you would be so kind? Just open yourself to the staff and squeeze it firmly so it recognizes your aura.”
Knowing what was expected of her, she hesitated. “Sir, I thought there had to be three transcended Lords present to activate the bonding process?”
“That’s right,” Earl replied. “We’ve still got to speak to you about that in a minute. Suffice to say, you’re the first to know, officially, that there are three of us present.”
Wide eyed, Naomi stared at her former chief, who smirked and tapped one finger against the side of her head in response.
So it’s true? She had heard rumors of what the Overlord had done for Anatt Yasin, but like most Guardians, she didn’t actually appreciate what the full ramifications of his actions were. Nor was anyone aware of just how capable the commander was becoming.
Naomi didn’t realize her own mouth was hanging open until Anatt raised her eyebrows, shook her head and suggested, “Shall we get on with this?”
Snapping her jaw shut, Naomi did as instructed; remembering she was the first person to physically touch the plasma staff since the activation of its power core.
Clearing her thoughts, she scooped the baton even closer and grasped it firmly in her right hand. The more she relaxed, the more the image of her new symbol of office filled her acuity with the increasing familiarity of a unique, many-faceted framework. It’s like an ice glazed viridian neural net.
Somehow, the crystal powering the core became aware of her mind’s distinctive timbre. Naomi went with it, opening the floodgates of her memories so that her identity flowed in a swelling surge toward a shining jade nucleus in the distance. A feeling of mutual recognition bloomed in the ether. Expanding, it rippled back toward her in a prismatic rapport of welcome and companionship.
The trilling tones of a counter melody began splicing both currents together. At that moment, the gem’s capacity was augmented by a mammoth inrush of power. That must be the Lords, doing whatever it is they do.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Almost instantly, a secondary, much more intimate infusion pitched along her nerves, flooding her brain and taking root at the center of her psychic complexus. As harmonic balance was finally achieved, a blinding mental flash followed, indicating to onlookers the coupling process was complete.
Standing, Naomi activated her staff with the merest inkling of inherent thought. A deep, resonant thrum accompanied the appearance of a twinned set of emerald plasma blades. Illuminated by a warm grassy glow, she mentally flicked through its various settings, and nodded in satisfaction as the staff responded to her instructions as if it were an extension of her own will. That’ll do nicely.
With a flourish, she deactivated her weapon and sheathed it within her shoulder holster. It was only as Naomi withdrew her hand from the folds of her robe that she discerned the results of another piece of arcane manipulation that had taken place right under her nose.
She gawped at her sleeves, both amazed and delighted to find dual bronze bands about two inches from the bottom cuff of each arm. Grinning, she turned from side to side to find the Lords staring back at her.
“Congratulations, Guardian Master Cruz,” the Lord Marshal intoned, “and welcome to the privileges of your new rank.”
“Thank you. Thank you all.” Naomi gushed, overcome by the reality of the situation as it finally began to sink in.
“No, we should be thanking you, Naomi,” Jade replied. “We’re going to be asking a lot from you over the next year or two, so don’t be under any illusions we’ve done you a favor. You’ve earned this promotion . . . and will continue to do so for a long time to come.”
Her interest kindled again, Naomi shuffled forward to the edge of her seat, and said, “At the risk of repeating myself, what does that mean, exactly?”
The Lords glanced between one another and the mood changed abruptly into one far more serious than before. Using the occasion as a signal, the Lord Procurator activated a confidentiality shield. Speaking mentally, she explained: We asked you here in person because, as you and everyone else are now aware, Anatt was boosted into manifesting a whole new and improved complexus. We initially thought it would take at least a couple of years for that complexus to integrate with her already developed adult psyche. How can I say this? It turns out we were . . .
“. . . You were wrong!” Naomi blurted out, intuitively, finishing Jade’s sentence for her, “she’s growing faster and stronger than you anticipated, thereby allowing her to assimilate the augmentation much more swiftly than usual.”
Snorting out loud, Jade muttered, “God, you’re on the ball!” Turning to the former commander, she continued, “I know you’ve never been prone to exaggeration, Anatt, but even I thought you’d elevated her abilities—just a little bit—to emphasize your approval of her. I can see now I was wrong, I apologize.”
Anatt shrugged. “I told you I knew my people, Jade. If anything, she’s proving my point for me as to why I was so sure she’s the prime candidate.”
Now thoroughly absorbed, Naomi reverted to the security of mental speech and said: Sorry for the interruption, but what has this got to do with me?
Jade replied: We want you to play the role of Supporter at Anatt’s forthcoming Transcension Ceremony.
Me, a supporter? Naomi was incredulous. But . . . but that usually goes to a High Grand Master!
Anatt could see Naomi was completely blown away, so she hastened to clarify certain aspects of her story: While everyone now knows the Overlord healed me, restoring my metapsychic complexus along the way, it’s not common knowledge that he also supplemented my psi-well. And just to make things clear, I’m not relating to those attributes I’d already manifested to full operant status; I’m talking about my weaker teleport, telekinetic, and healing functions too. Long story short? Whatever he did enhanced me sufficiently to guarantee my ascension to Ultra Level across the board . . . including my previously dormant capacity for self-rejuvination, thereby ensuring I’ll survive the transcension process.
Gasping mentally, Naomi spluttered: Holy shit! Excuse me, but how did he manage that? To graft a newly emerging complexus onto an already established psyche without leaving any form of mental scarring is . . . is . . . well, it should be impossible in itself. But to kick-start previously buried latencies and—
Whoa, hold on, Naomi. We can discuss that later as we have about two months before I actually manifest, so—
Hang on! I almost missed it in all the excitement. You helped power up my staff. How have you attained Ultra Level without incarnating a higher form?
Verbally, Earl interjected. “Tsst, she is sharp! Now even I’m convinced you’ve made the right choice, Anatt. Please keep it simple, otherwise she’ll be asking questions all day.”
Anatt returned the Lord Marshal’s earlier grimace and quickly pressed ahead: Let’s just say it’s another one of those quirky little gifts that our seemingly omnipotent leader snuck in there. Realizing my nexus would virtually explode into transcended glory, he’s somehow added a buffer program to prevent me from being swamped by it all. Rather decent of him really, as it’s allowing me to wrap my head around the accelerated expansion and keep pace with it.
Believe me when I say, knowing you’re going to transform into some super-potent angelic apparition is a lot to take in, especially as the day is fast approaching now. That’s why your next tour will be your last. I need to bring you up to speed on what’s happened to me; what’s expected from you; and specifically, how you will help the Shepherd fulfill his role as he guides me into a floating on a cloud playing harps all day level of existence.
A thrill went down Naomi’s spine at the mere mention of the other participant who would lead the Transcension Ceremony. Though it was a responsibility very few ever got to fulfill, written records on the nature of the metamorphosis were plentiful and required reading during the final year before graduation:
Having already lived through the experience themselves, the Shepherd would be in the best position to guide the aspirant along their new path. Alas, they weren’t only there to offer ethereal high-fives and hand out hugs and kisses. On several occasions in the past, candidates had lost control at the vital crossover point, going nova and vaporizing everyone and everything in their vicinity. As such, the Overlord had decreed that future ceremonies would not take place unless governed by another transcended being . . . just in case.
Naomi glanced across at the Lord Marshal and, realizing they were discussing something of the utmost confidentiality, added a further encryption layer to her thoughts: So we’ll be there together to help her?
A slow, sad smile spread across his face as he replied. Although I’d love the honor, no, I won’t be there. The position has already been snapped up by someone else.
Who then? You’ve already inferred it’s a male, so it’s obviously one of the Lords, if not you then . . . ? She went pale as a daunting prospect crossed her mind. Oh no!
Earl laughed. Relax; it’s not going to be the Overlord. However, you’ve bagged someone equally as enigmatic. You’ll be assisting the Shadow Lord, Andrew. For some reason he’s very keen to fulfill the role, but won’t say why!
Naomi went quiet as she considered what she knew about the elusive Shadow Lord. In some respects, Andrew was very much like the Lord Inquisitor, Victoria. Both were fiercely private about their lives and everyday affairs and tended to stay out of the limelight as much as possible. They had been transcended for a long time. Even so, no one actually knew how old or how strong they were. Neither did they have a clue as to when they had become Guardians. Even the Lord Marshal—who had been recruited by the Overlord himself more than three thousand years previously—was unable to shed any light on their true origins.
Until recently, they had always declined any offer of promotion and were used extensively by the Overlord on clandestine or developing projects that nobody knew anything about until the time was right for others to step in and take over.
It was with frustrating ease, therefore, that Naomi discovered she knew very little about the man at all. Regardless, that would change in the near future for it was rumored the transcension process forged the most intimate of links between its participants, creating a bridge that made it impossible to keep any of your embarrassing indiscretions or guilty secrets buried. No wonder they wanted to warn me in advance. Not everyone would be comfortable letting strangers beneath their barriers so they were free to rummage around in their personal recollections. Especially someone so . . . so . . . handsome?
Oh for the love of God, get a grip Naomi! He’s mysterious, is all. Mysterious and powerful and ancient . . . and . . . fit? Aaaargh!
Naomi didn’t vacillate long. In the end, her deep respect for the former commander won out over her reticence—and disturbing fantasies—at letting the Shadow Lord access the most private areas of her persona. As her pensiveness faded, her awareness returned to the room, only to discover all three of her superiors were watching her closely, waiting.
She took a deep breath. Okay, yes! I’ll do it. I appreciate your trust in considering me for this honor.
Anatt shook her head. On the contrary, we appreciate that you trust us enough to accede to our wishes. An odd glint appeared in the new Lord’s eyes. Though I’ve a feeling you won’t regret it once you get a bite of the cherry adorning the top of this particular cake. Am I right, Earl?
Naomi glanced back to the Lord Marshal and waited for him to elaborate. She became even more intrigued when he increased the security screen to maximum and added a powerful psychic scrambler, making it theoretically impossible to penetrate.
“It’s safe to talk aloud now,” he reassured everyone, before launching into his explanation. “Naomi, as you’re rather astute, I’m sure you’re beginning to suspect, the ceremony isn’t the real reason why you’ll be removed from duties aboard the southern Observation Station. It doesn’t take forever to undergo the transcension process; a day or two at the most. No, the basis for your reassignment is this: we have a new project in mind that you may wish to take some time considering. What I tell you now cannot leave this room nor can it become common knowledge until things are officially announced in General Orders. Is that clear?”
“I understand. Please, tell me more.”
“It’s very rare for the Overlord to intercede in the day-to-day operational running of things. That’s my job as the Marshal. Basically, I’m in charge of things with very little or no oversight. When he does intervene, experience has taught us that it is a course of wisdom to respond accordingly.”
Naomi was now perched so far on the edge of her seat that it would be impossible for her to go farther without levitating.
The Lord Marshal forged ahead. “Imagine our surprise then, when he informs us—and by us I mean the Council of Lords—that in less than twelve months from now, Anatt will not only have ascended safely, but, as you surmised a few minutes ago, she will have stabilized sufficiently to assume full autonomous control over her newly expanded nexus. That’s unheard of—”
“Unheard of?”
“Oh yes. Integration of the human psyche aside, it can take a further decade or so before a freshly transcended complexus becomes wholly grounded. We don’t advertize that fact, as people would be a little disconcerted to learn some of the newer Lords are still settling into their heightened state of existence as they go about their duties. However, I’m letting you in on this little secret, because Anatt has been earmarked, by His Nibs, to fulfill a vacancy that’s been burning a hole in our ranks for far too long for lack of a suitable candidate: that of Deputy Marshal.
“Her specific remit will be to head the terraforming taskforce during the pioneering phase of the colonization process planned to commence sometime over the next five years. Whether that process affects us alone or goes on to encompass humanity as a whole is beside the point. Full settlement protocols are to be established from the word go, and once underway, she will then remain to oversee all off-world operations. Do you appreciate the scope of what this will involve, Naomi?”
Naomi’s mind raced to administer the superfluity of information. The evolution of an established psi-well in less than a year; the post of Deputy Marshal, putting her third in the overall chain of command; hand-picked by the Overlord himself; and to top it all off, a fully formulated platform to migrate to the stars. What the hell? Aloud, she gasped, “Wow! I . . . I can’t begin to imagine what it’ll involve.”
The Lord Marshal chuckled. “Funny you should phrase it like that, Naomi, as it puts you in a better position to understand the bewilderment we felt when the Overlord went on to emphasize other facts about Anatt’s prospective role. Because her duties will involve a shitstorm of strategic and operational issues, the job is going to be understandably stressful. Now, while we believe Anatt is more than up to the task, we must remember that she will still be going through transition. As such, she is going to need a dedicated aide to assist her; a helper who is as tenacious as they are resolved and flexible; someone who will not only provide a rock for her boss to lean on, but an individual who can help to carry the burdens of responsibility and deputize for Anatt when she’s absent.”
“Phew!” Naomi whistled, “It’ll be a nightmare to begin with. The logistics of such a huge . . . hang on? Provide a rock for her boss to lean on?” Oh crap!
Earl’s chuckle deepened into a full-on cackle. “Ah, I see the proverbial penny has made itself known? Well, while you contemplate its descent, you might want to wrap your head around an additional little rider.” He hunched forward and grinned. “The thing is, the Overlord was adamant that Anatt be allowed to make the final decision as to who her adjutant would be. He said she’d know instinctively who to pick. Spookily enough, she did. And here you are. Having talked about it at some length between ourselves, we now appreciate the reasons for her certainty. Basically, we need to know if you’re up for it. Are you willing to step up and be a major player in one of the Overlord’s most ambitious plans to date? You may want to take some time to think about it before giving us your reply.”
Caught like a deer in headlights, Naomi fought to digest the implications of everything she’d been told. Am I up for something like this?
The moment passed in a heartbeat. Meeting the gaze of her sponsors, she calmly replied, “Count me in.”
“That was fast!” Earl exclaimed, “are you sure you don’t need more time?”
“Not really, Sir. Reading between the lines, the Overlord must have his motives for putting all the pieces in place the way he has. If he trusts Commander Yasin’s judgment, then I’d be an idiot to refuse . . . him or her.”
The Lord Marshal nodded. “Good point.”
“When do I start?”
“Two weeks from now. Your current rotation will end prematurely on the pretext of a reassignment to the Academy in connection with your promotion. That way, people will get used to seeing you about the facility quite openly until after the ceremony.”
The Lord Procurator took over. “By then, your assignment to Shadow Operations will have become common knowledge. However, what people will not know is that you will be assisting in the establishment of the proposed Alpha Site and making initial preparations with the new Deputy Marshal over here for the arrival of a number of specialist teams. Once they are there, both of you will coordinate your efforts with Andrew to ensure things are well under way for when the colonization program is publicly announced.”
Mind in turmoil, Naomi flopped back in her chair, her earlier assumption that she had been summoned here to answer for an imaginary catalogue of wrongdoings now seemingly forgotten. Where will they be sending us? I’m pretty sharp on picking up snippets of gossip here and there, but I’ve not heard a single whisper about a major lift-n-shift to another planet. I wonder how far away it will be. Is it even in this galaxy? Who found it and how long have they . . . ?
A single loud knock at the main door interrupted her private reverie. Along with everyone else, she turned to watch as Andrew, the Shadow Lord himself, came striding confidently toward them without having waited for an invitation to enter.
This was the first time Naomi had actually met him in the flesh and she wasn’t disappointed. At over six feet in height, he stood like a cliff personified. With his angular features, close-cropped dark hair, and muscular frame, he also gave the impression that solid rock had been poured into his uniform; in itself a contradiction to his almost fluidic baring. Curiously, now that he was standing closer to her, she also felt a tingling ache spreading from her sinuses and into her teeth. Strange I don’t get that from the others in the room.
With no hint of an apology at his intrusion, Andrew nodded briefly to the other Lords and then the intensity of his gaze locked onto Naomi. Her stomach flipped, triggering an automatic response from her inner shields. Oh my God, he’s staring right at me! Don’t read my mind—don’t read my mind—don’t read my mind . . .
Noting her reaction, his stern countenance broke into an open look of amusement. Addressing her senior colleagues first, Andrew’s tone was deep and friendly. “I wonder if you wouldn’t be too put out if I stole Naomi away? It’s just that she’ll be working with me quite a lot until Anatt is up and running, so I want her at her best. I’ve been studying her file and see she’s restricted by the use of a T-Ring. It might be wise to instruct her in some of the fancier things you can do with them to extend her versatility . . . if she has the balls for it.”
Spinning back to face her squarely, he extended his hand and his voice took on a challenging edge. “How about it? If you’ve got the nerve, I can teach you a thing or two you won’t learn from anyone else.”
“I bet you can,” Anatt muttered, causing Naomi to blush.
Andrew turned slowly toward their latest transcension candidate, his gray eyes flashing as they narrowed in concentration for the briefest instant. A smirk edged across his face. “He said I’d like working with you. I can see why.”
No one needed to guess who “he” was.
Resuming his conversation with Naomi, he said, “I’ve got a quick job starting tomorrow which should take about forty-eight hours to complete. That gives us the rest of today to go over the basics of some pretty nifty augmentations you’ll find are fun and extremely useful. We can always pick up where we leave off once I’m back. C’mon, trust me. It’ll be worth the effort.”
Naomi glanced at the others. Seeing no objection, she took his hand which was still held out in invitation. A spark snapped loudly through the air as their fingers met and Naomi jumped, immediately aware of the vast reservoir of power lying just beneath the surface of an obsidian screen. The shock travelled up her arm, numbing her to the shoulder. What the . . . ?
Scowling, Andrew visibly exerted himself and squelched the potency of his might right down until it was barely more than a subliminal hum. “Sorry about that. I tend to forget how my heritage can run away with itself if I relax too much.”
Without a further word, he escorted Naomi from the office, oblivious to the confusion he’d caused. Like her, it was evident the Lords were wondering what on earth Andrew had meant by heritage.