The crew climbed aboard their transport vessel, the sleek yet heavily armored ship humming with life as its systems came online. The jungle moon was behind them now, and the oppressive atmosphere of death and destruction faded with the whirring of the engines. Sahaad glanced back one last time at the Red Tails' encampment, the fallen soldiers now a memory etched into his mind.
As the transport doors sealed shut, a brief silence fell over the crew. Sahaad moved toward the holo-map display, its translucent blue light illuminating his face as he studied their next destination. He knew the mission wasn't over yet. The encounter with Ajani had left a sour taste in his mouth, but there was something else gnawing at him—something more political, perhaps. They were being summoned to meet the princess, a figure none of them had encountered before, and it carried an air of unease.
Zara, Ji, Nate, Kato, and Sia sat back in their seats, decompressing from the battle. The quiet quickly gave way to the familiar banter that always emerged after missions. Sia, ever the cynic, was the first to break the silence.
"I've heard stories about her," Sia said. "The princess. They say she's nothing like her father."
Sahaad's eyes shifted to the map, his fingers tapping at the controls to zoom in on their next waypoint. They were headed to an embassy on a moon, not far from their current position. The embassy was considered neutral ground, though he doubted the neutrality would extend much beyond formalities. The Federation was everything out here, and everyone answered to the princess now.
"An embassy, huh?" Ji leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his jet-black hair. "I was hoping for something a bit more exotic."
"Exotic? You mean a deathtrap," Nate quipped, smirking as he glanced at Ji. "That last jungle mission was enough 'exotic' for me."
"Yeah, but this time," Kato added, stretching out, "we're not fighting rebel guerillas or some Jamaican Awakened who can turn trees into artillery. We're meeting royalty. Should be a walk in the park."
"Walk in the park," Sia repeated, her voice light but laced with sarcasm. "Last time someone said that, we nearly got decapitated."
They all laughed, except for Sahaad, who remained focused on the holo-map. He could hear them joking behind him, and for a moment, their laughter felt distant, like an echo in the back of his mind. He wasn't in the mood for humor, though he rarely was. His thoughts were consumed by the upcoming meeting with the princess and what it could mean for them.
Sahaad adjusted the map's destination, zooming out to their larger trajectory. They were headed toward a diplomatic moon orbiting a gas giant in the Zevan system, home to one of the many embassies maintained by the Federation. The princess was expecting them, and they were to report directly to her after they docked.
He turned from the holo-map and walked to the cockpit, informing the pilot. "Set the coordinates for the Zevan moon. We're meeting the princess there."
The pilot, a grizzled veteran of spacefaring missions, nodded without a word. The ship's engines roared to life as the coordinates were locked in, and within moments, they were airborne, leaving the jungle moon behind.
Back in the passenger compartment, the crew's conversation drifted to the princess herself. "None of us have ever met her," Zara said, leaning forward with a thoughtful look. "But I've heard she's a lot kinder, but still cutthroat. Her father, though… he was a different story."
"The King…", Kato droned off, reminiscing about the stories he heard. "He was my hero growing up, the one who led not only humanity but the entire universe against their gods. And he won".
"Yeah," Sia nodded. "But he also lost all his children during the War of heaven. Everyone except the princess".
Kato scoffed. "That's the price of war ya know."
The room fell silent for a moment. Sahaad could feel the tension shift as they delved into dangerous territory. The royal family was not a topic of casual conversation in the Federation.
Sahaad finally spoke, his voice steady as he addressed them. "It doesn't matter what she's like or how she compares to her father. What matters is that she's in charge now. We answer to her, no questions asked."
They all nodded in agreement, though the curiosity lingered. The crew had been through countless battles together, survived horrors no normal soldier could withstand, and yet, there was something uniquely unsettling about meeting the princess. She held the fate of the Imperator program in her hands, and with it, the future of their very existence.
As the ship ascended into space, breaking through the atmosphere, Sahaad glanced out the viewport.
The ship sped through warpspace, before exiting near the planet they were to enter.
As the ship descended onto the landing pad of the embassy, the sprawling complex of sleek metal and glass stretched out before them, illuminated by the pale light of the nearby gas giant. The moon's artificial atmosphere kept the embassy livable, though the gravity felt heavier than usual. The place had an almost regal air, far removed from the battlefields they were used to. For a moment, Sahaad marveled at the size and scope of the complex, realizing that this was a nexus of power, where decisions affecting entire systems were made.
They disembarked in silence, feeling the weight of their mission as they prepared to meet with the high council—an elite group of advisors and officials who now governed the Federation alongside the princess. The hangar doors slid open with a low hiss, revealing a squad of armored soldiers waiting for them, their gleaming silver exosuits a far cry from the rugged armor worn by frontline troops.
"This way," one of the guards said, gesturing for the Imperators to follow.
Sahaad exchanged a quick glance with the others before stepping forward, his boots echoing against the polished floors. As they walked through the pristine halls of the embassy, they were struck by the opulence surrounding them. Everything here was integrated with advanced technology—ornate fixtures with built-in displays, walls that shifted between solid surfaces and holographic projections, and windows offering breathtaking views of the alien landscape outside.
They finally arrived at a grand hall, the ceiling towering above them, adorned with shimmering lights that mimicked constellations. A group of men and women stood before them, each dressed in elaborate, flowing robes intricately woven with cybernetic enhancements. These were the high council, the new governing body set up by the princess, the true power behind the throne.
Sahaad and his crew straightened, realizing they were in the presence of some of the most influential figures in the Federation. The high council members looked down at them with a mix of curiosity and cold calculation, their cybernetic eyes scanning every detail of the Imperators as if they were appraising weapons rather than soldiers.
One of the council members, a tall man with silver hair and almost half his body replaced with cybernetics, stepped forward. His voice was smooth, almost too calm. "Welcome, Imperators. We have been expecting you."
Sahaad nodded in acknowledgment, though the tension in the room was palpable. There was something unsettling about the council's demeanor, as if they were more machine than human now, their emotions dulled by their reliance on technology.
As the introductions continued, Sahaad's attention drifted to a group of figures standing just behind the council. They were tall, ethereal beings with an otherworldly grace about them—the Fey.
The Fey were an alien race that had allied with humanity centuries ago, playing a key role in the Federation's expansion and advancement. Their presence had been vital in humanity's rise to power, their technology far surpassing anything humans had developed on their own.
Sahaad found himself staring, mesmerized by the appearance of the Fey. They were striking, with their slender, elongated forms and thin, slanted faces. Their skin had a soft blue hue that shimmered under the light, and their black eyes seemed to absorb everything around them. Instead of hair, they possessed delicate frills that flowed gracefully along the backs of their heads, adding to their ethereal, almost magical appearance.
One of the Fey noticed his gaze and tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. Sahaad quickly averted his eyes, realizing he had been staring for too long. But it was hard not to. He had seen images of the Fey in historical broadcasts and entertainment programs, but seeing them in person was different—like encountering a living myth.
"They look like something out of a dream," Sahaad thought, remembering the days when he used to watch documentaries about the Federation's history during his tests. Even then, the Fey had seemed unreal, a race of beings so advanced and mysterious that they felt more like fantasy than reality.
Zara nudged him slightly, breaking his reverie. "First time seeing them up close?" she whispered, noticing his awe.
"Yeah," Sahaad replied, his voice low. "They're… different."
"Different? Well they have been around this universe far longer than us," Zara said, smirking.
Sahaad nodded. The Fey had been instrumental in humanity's survival and expansion into the stars, and their influence stretched far and wide. He couldn't help but wonder what they thought of the Imperators, or if they even cared.
Still according to the information he had, the Fey were a dying race during the War in Heaven. It was thanks to humanity's involvement that the Fey were not completely extinguished. It gave Saahad a certain sense of pride in humanity and their achievements through the ages.
The council member who had spoken earlier stepped aside, revealing a grand projection of the galaxy. "The princess will meet you shortly," he said, his voice maintaining that unnerving calmness. "But first, there are matters of importance we must discuss."
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
The council members led Sahaad and his team into a more intimate chamber, the grand hall's vastness replaced by a more focused setting. A circular table floated in the center of the room.
The faint hum of the council members' integrated cybernetics filled the air as they adjusted their interfaces, preparing for a discussion that Sahaad could already feel would be less than promising.
Sahaad and the others took their seats. The Fey remained in the background, their presence quiet yet ever-watchful, like living statues.
The silver-haired council member, who had first addressed them, cleared his throat, his voice resonating with an unsettling calm. "We must now address the future of the Imperator program," he began. "You have performed admirably in the field. Your recent encounter with the Awakened, despite the loss of the Red Tail company, shows that the Federation's investment in your abilities is not without merit."
The councilman continued, "However, the Imperator program, as it stands, has been deemed unsustainable. The costs—both financial and human—have far exceeded the projected gains. Billions of credits and countless resources have been poured into the trials, into augmentations, into creating the 'perfect warriors'." He leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking onto Sahaad's. "And yet, after centuries, only six of you remain."
Sahaad's stomach tightened. He had heard rumors of the program's shaky future before, whispers among the Praetorians, but this was the first time he had heard it so plainly.
"The princess," the councilman continued, "has made it clear. The Imperator program will not be receiving any more funding for expansion or further trials. The Federation can no longer justify the costs, not when Praetorians, with their simpler training and lower mortality rates, can be deployed en masse."
Zara tensed in her seat, and Nate clenched his jaw. Sahaad could feel the growing frustration in the room, especially from Kato, who had always believed they were destined to be more than just elite soldiers.
"So, what happens to us?" Sahaad asked, his voice steady but laced with tension. He already knew the answer, but he needed to hear it.
"You will continue to serve, of course," another council member chimed in, a woman whose face was almost entirely mechanical save for one human eye. "But your promotion to full Imperators will be delayed—perhaps by another century."
"A century?" Kato echoed, disbelief etched into his tone. "You're telling us we have to wait another hundred years before we're even given the chance to prove ourselves as fully-fledged Imperators?"
The councilwoman's expression remained impassive. "The armor specially prepared for you, the final enhancements, the rank—it will all come in time. But the Federation cannot rush these advancements any longer. You've proven your value, but we must consider the bigger picture. The Federation needs stability, and for now, the Praetorians offer that more efficiently."
Sahaad could feel the weight of the words hanging over them. Another century. For the Imperators, whose lifespans had been drastically extended by their augmentations, a hundred years didn't carry the same meaning it would for regular soldiers. But still, the thought of waiting that long, of being stuck in this limbo, was a bitter pill to swallow.
"So what exactly is expected of us in that time?" Zara asked, her voice sharp.
"You will continue to serve in your current capacity," the silver-haired councilman replied. "Specialized missions, high-risk engagements—operations that require your unique abilities. But full integration into the Imperator role, as envisioned, will not occur until the next century."
Nate scoffed under his breath, clearly irritated. "So, we're just tools to be used until then?"
"You are assets," the councilwoman corrected him, her tone flat. "And valuable ones. But even the most valuable assets must be managed carefully. The cost-efficiency of the Imperator program has reached its limits."
Sahaad's mind raced, trying to process the weight of what they were being told. They had been trained for something greater, to be the future of warfare, to surpass the Praetorians in every way. And yet, here they were—reduced to nothing more than an expensive, experimental tool that the Federation wasn't sure it needed anymore.
He stood up, his frustration barely contained. "So what, we just bide our time for another century? Keep throwing ourselves into the fire for missions no one else can handle? When do we get to be more than just an experiment?"
The councilman's cybernetic eyes flashed for a brief moment, as if calculating a response. "You are already more than an experiment, soldier. You and your team represent the pinnacle of human augmentation. The time will come when the Imperators will take their rightful place. But not yet."
Sahaad clenched his fists. He wanted to argue, to demand more. But deep down, he knew there was no point. They were at the mercy of the Federation's whims—of the princess' whims. And for now, all they could do was wait.
As the meeting came to a close, the council members returned to their discussions, already moving on to the next topic of importance.
The council chamber doors slid open with a quiet hiss, revealing the main reason why the Imperators had even arrived here.
The council members all rose from their seats, their cybernetic enhancements shimmering in the ambient light as they stood in rigid formation. A soft, yet commanding presence filled the room as the figure stepped inside.
The Princess of the Federation, daughter of the King, entered with a quiet grace. Unlike the council members, she bore no visible signs of cybernetic augmentation. Her body was entirely organic, her skin unblemished by the sleek metal and synthetic implants that had become commonplace among the Federation elite. Despite her lack of enhancements, there was an aura about her, a presence that commanded respect.
She was tall, with a lean, powerful frame, and carried herself with the poise of someone who had walked through the fires of war and come out the other side. Her features were sharp yet softened by a calm demeanor.
Her long dark hair, streaked with hints of silver, flowed loosely over her shoulders. Across her arms and face, faint scars could be seen—remnants of battles long past. Her attire was elegant yet practical, a blend of royal regalia and warrior's armor, designed for both diplomacy and combat.
Sahaad and his team stood at attention as she approached, their eyes locked on her. This was the woman they had heard so much about, the princess who had fought alongside her father in the legendary War of Heaven, a conflict that had taken place over ten millennia ago. Yet, as she stood before them, she didn't appear to have aged a day beyond her prime.
The princess stopped a few paces from Sahaad and his team, her gaze soft but assessing as she took in the sight of the Imperators. There was no coldness in her eyes, no hint of the detached, emotionless attitude that the council members had displayed. Instead, there was a quiet warmth, a spark of humanity that Sahaad had not expected.
"Imperators," she said, her voice smooth yet strong. It was the kind of voice that could calm a storm or command an army with equal ease. "I am Regalia of the Federation, daughter of King Aeryis."
Sahaad and his team saluted in unison, their fists crossing over their hearts in the traditional gesture of respect. "Your Highness," Sahaad said, his voice steady but laced with a hint of curiosity. He had heard of the princess, of her legendary status, but seeing her in person was something else entirely.
Elara nodded at their salute and then lowered her hand, gesturing for them to be at ease. "Please, no need for formality. From now on I am no longer the princess, the Federation is a republic now. Royalty has no place anymore in the 100th millennium." Her eyes moved over each of them, lingering on their battle-damaged armor and the exhaustion that clung to their expressions. "I have been briefed on your recent mission, and I must say I am impressed by your resilience, despite the circumstances."
She paused for a moment, her gaze settling on Sahaad. "You have questions, I'm sure. About me, about the council's decision." Her voice held a note of understanding, as if she knew the weight of the uncertainty they carried. "I understand the frustration you must feel, being told to wait after all you've endured."
Sahaad hesitated, his mind racing with the flood of thoughts. She was offering them a chance to speak freely, something none of the council members had done. He decided to take the opportunity. "If I may ask, Your High…Madame," he began, his voice measured, "why are we being delayed? The council says it's due to cost inefficiencies, but it feels like there's more to it than just credits."
Regalia met his gaze, her eyes thoughtful. "You are perceptive, Sahaad. The Imperator program has indeed faced its challenges—logistical, financial, and… political. But it's not just about the credits…"
Sahaad clenched his jaw, waiting in anticipation for her answer.
"As you know we have been fighting a war against the Entil. They are a hostile coalition of aliens that wishes to usurp our control of the universe."
Her gaze shifted to the holo-map displaying the ongoing conflicts across several galaxies, the blinking lights indicating various battlefronts. "For over a decade, we have found ourselves in a stalemate. The Entil's forces are formidable, and while we have had our victories, we have also suffered great losses. The war has reached a critical juncture, and we need every advantage we can muster."
Sahaad listened intently, sensing the weight of the conflict that loomed over them all. "And that's why you want us to wait a century before promoting us to full Imperators?" he asked, seeking clarity.
Regalia nodded, her expression grave. "Yes. For now, you will continue to operate as Praetorians. This allows you to gain invaluable experience, to hone your skills in the field, and to learn the intricacies of warfare in a galaxy fraught with uncertainty. You will not be just soldiers; you will become the leaders and tacticians we need when the time comes."
"But why wait so long?" Zara interjected, her voice filled with disbelief. "A century is an eternity, especially when our enemies are growing stronger. We could be making a difference now."
Regalia's gaze was unwavering. "Because a rushed promotion could lead to dire consequences. If you become Imperators without the proper training and experience, you could become liabilities rather than assets. The council may see you as tools, but I see you as the backbone of our future. We need warriors who can think critically, adapt to changing circumstances, and lead their troops with conviction."
Sahaad exchanged glances with his squad. He understood her reasoning, but the frustration bubbled beneath the surface. "So, we're to remain on the sidelines while the Federation continues to struggle? It feels like we're being held back when we could be fighting alongside our comrades."
"I understand your frustration," Regalia replied gently. "But the Federation's future is uncertain, and I want you to be ready for the fights that lie ahead. The Entil is relentless, and we must counter their strategies with our own. Your time will come, but we must be strategic about it. Each mission you undertake as Praetorians will prepare you for what's to come."
Her words hung in the air, and Sahaad could sense the tension in the room easing slightly. The uncertainty of their future remained, but Regalia's conviction was palpable. "So, what do you propose?" he asked, his tone shifting from frustration to curiosity.
"I want you to complete a series of missions that will directly impact the conflict with the Entil," Regalia said, her eyes sparkling with determination. "You will disrupt their supply lines, gather intelligence, and undermine their operations. Each success will shift the balance of power, even if only slightly. I believe that with your unique abilities as Imperators, you can accomplish what our standard forces cannot."
The weight of her expectations settled heavily on Sahaad and his team. The prospect of contributing to the Federation's war effort ignited a sense of purpose within them, though the notion of waiting for a century still lingered like an unshakeable shadow.
"What if we succeed in changing the tide?" Sia asked, her curiosity piqued. "What happens then?"
Elara smiled softly, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "If you prove yourselves capable, the council may reconsider their stance. They may see that the Imperators are essential to the Federation's survival, that you all are not merely experimental soldiers, but the warriors this galaxy desperately needs."
Sahaad felt the stirring of determination within him. "Then we'll take these missions seriously," he said, his voice resolute. "We'll show the council and the Federation what we're capable of."
Regalia nodded, her expression turning serious once more. "I believe in you, Imperators. You have the potential to change the course of this war. Remember, every battle counts, and each decision you make can shift the balance."
As she spoke, the council members behind her exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable but a hint of approval flickering in their cybernetic eyes. Sahaad and his squad knew they had a long road ahead, but for the first time in what felt like ages, they had a purpose that extended beyond mere survival.
Regalia concluded with a firm voice, "Prepare yourselves. Your missions will begin soon. I expect nothing less than excellence from each of you."
With that, she turned to leave, leaving Sahaad and the Imperators with a sense of renewed vigor and a mission that could alter the fate of the Federation.