Vector re-read the list again. He wasn't sure how many times he had read it, but there was no mistake. Even the Specters had been infiltrated. He'd made five phone calls. Four teams were dispatched to meet with Citram, Mack, Vidian, and Vorn. The fifth team, with four people, met him.
As soon as he entered the room, he approached one of his favorite people. It was the first time he was happy with the decision to keep his identity secret from the Spectors. He had chosen the woman, personally, two years prior when she had taken her final tests. Her results revealed a proclivity for the type of things the Specters had been created to do.
She was a witty, funny person to be around and she made shifts shared with her enjoyable.
Unfortunately, she was also a Triad espionage agent.
He reached her, and in one fluid movement had her pinned face down on the floor. Her arm, bent between her shoulder blades, prevented much of a fight.
"Pira Urun, or should I say Pilira Schalay, you are under arrest for espionage." She gasped as her eyes grew wide. Her team lead, Mikil Lankar, looked on stoically with an arm stretched out to his side, keeping the others from reaching Saedah. Of course Vector had been required to tell Mikil. He couldn't very well attack a member of the Specters and expect them to take it. Then to accuse her of espionage, when they all knew very well what kind of interrogation that would entail, was not something he should do without at least one person to watch his back. Especially when everyone considered her family.
Saedah restrained the woman and showed the team her Triad profile. The three of them all looked at her with mouths twisted in disgust and betrayal in their eyes.
"Put her on the transport, after taking her weapons, and come back. We have a lot to discuss." Vector ordered, clearing the table and spreading out several papers.
"Clearly." Mikil stated flatly, heavily affected by Pira's discovery. The three disarmed her, checking her hair and sleeves, removing her boots and socks, and checking her over just shy of a cavity search. The Specters were just as dangerous as the Ghosts, without the notoriety that came with the flashy Suits. They were the Questioners; the Inquisitors. They sparked fear in traitors' hearts, and a grudging respect from their comrades. They were assassins and spies, themselves, and worked often with Vidian's team. They were killers in the night, the ones that ventured out when even the Ghosts couldn't.
While it may have seemed cruel to force her to disrobe, there was no way that Mikil was going to let Pira on the transport with anything that could be used as a weapon. Pira knew what she'd signed up for. She'd abandoned the right to modesty. The Specters would not shy from a naked woman, knowing they had to be absolutely sure she was, without a doubt, weaponless. She would be held in a high-security tube, where her hands would be wholly encased in hollow shackles and mounted to the sides. The same would hold her feet, with a muzzle over her face.
Spectors, especially, knew how dangerous Specters could be.
The three returned mere minutes later, freezing as they crossed the threshold. The youngest, Jon Yristan, stepped back with his hand reflexively reaching for a weapon as he double checked the hall and entry points. His bright, almost glowing iridescent blue eyes darted down the hallway to both sides. His dark blond, short-cropped hair, fair skin and silver tongue made him a lady's man. He used it to his advantage when the crew went out. He was shorter than the other two, but like Citram, his size was deceiving. Weaklings didn't make good Spectors, and those three were the best of them.
Vector, knowing he'd sprung a surprise on them, watched that one in particular. Spectors didn't like surprises, and it was best to make sure Jon didn't intend to use the weapon on him.
Mikil marked the movement and coughed. What the darkest hells was Jon thinking? Jon and Vector made eye contact and the Spector quickly jerked his hand away from his holstered pistol. An uneasy and apologetic smile crossed his face, but the shock remained in his eyes and bloodless, pale face. They all shared that peculiar look, a reaction Vector wasn't quite expecting.
Vector sat at their DebCon with his helmet in his lap. He'd sat facing the door so he could watch his mens' expressions as they learned who their commander really was. He was not disappointed. It really was amusing to see the realization on their faces.
"You're Raze?" Mikil asked. His voice was incredulous and little more than a gruff whisper. When Vector nodded, Mikil breathed, "But you're so young…" All of them were notably older than he was. Even Pira had been six years older than he. Mikil was five years Vector's senior, with dark hair, dark skin, a deep brown eyes that displayed his intelligence and missed nothing. He was the tallest, and though he was lean and bordering on lanky, Mikil could take the other two in a fight without a problem. He might even give Vector a run for his money.
"I impressed Requiem." Vector stated, shrugging. He knew he was young. That had been half the battle with the Ghosts. It still was, as most of the time they assigned him to the easy jobs, where he was unlikely to get hurt or wind up dead.
"But... we've met before." Said the last of the three, Lonnie Klahston. He was an average height male with an eternal baby-face framed with black ringlets escaping his low tail. Even with a wider and 'fluffier' stature than nearly all the Spectors, the man walked with footsteps like feathers and a dangerous grace that no-one with his build should ever have possessed. He was waving a finger between himself and Vector, emphasizing the fact that the two had been regular tavern buddies when he'd first been recruited in the Spector program. Jon nodded his agreement. "And I never even suspected."
"I make it a point to meet all the Specters before I enlist them." He would meet the Specters on quite a few occasions during their recruitment. The meetings were more interrogation, but his targets didn't know that, even when the inevitable handful were rejected halfway through the training. "But we stray off topic."
After a moment's pause, he continued in a robotic, heavily rehearsed tone, "My name is Vector Tansen, a Ghost of Conclave. I am the founder of the Specters of Conclave, and I am not the only one unmasking today. Maclin LaMorra is the man behind Flux, and the Chief of Medicine. Citram Tidral is the woman behind Penance, and is our Chief of Intelligence. Saedah Karth is the man behind Dirge, and was the Chief of Technology, before he brought us this." He tapped the DebCon and let it cycle through all the files he had loaded. "Vidian Agarra is the woman behind Ker." He looked them each in the eye, watching their expressions, loving how this moment was changing their dynamic. Watching how they shuffled over to sit with him, knowing they were waiting for the final name. "The man behind Requiem, is Vorn Chrysos." Aside from the Generals, only these three would know who Vorn was. Mikil, Jon, and Lonnie would have new jobs after that day.
"Dude, if this is a joke…" Jon began, looking torn between indignation and excitement. His posture was stiff, with furrowed brows and distrust thinning his lips. His eyes, though, darted through the reports nearly as fast as his fingers tapped his bouncing knee.
"The prince died with the rest of his family." Lonni added, agreeing with Jon. Lonni had more doubt and confusion in his body language than Jon had, and none of the ADHD excitement.
"I would normally, probably, assume that those two have the right of it… but I really don't think you would joke like this. This is real. Vorn Chrysos. He's Requiem." Mikil asked in a flat tone, more a statement than a question, but Vector nodded anyway. "But, the Conclave has been growing for fifteen years." Mikil's eyes narrowed on Vector. Mikil's eyes were confused, and Vector leaned back with a smile, never breaking eye contact. Again Vector nodded, his smile growing. This is why he loved his Spectors. People like Mikil.
"And the prince was…" Vector could practically hear the mental calculator running in the man's glorious brain. "Eleven? No, Twelve… When he became Requiem…" Mikil blew out a shaky breath. "Gods and Darkness."
"Yeah. It sounds like a wonderful childhood, doesn't it?" Vector continued without waiting for an answer, "Now, the other deployed teams are aware of the state of things, somewhat. They get to hear my name from the other Ghosts. There are a lot out there that are still in the dark, and we are working on getting communications to them, but I have special plans for you three." he pointed at the three, still smiling. "First things first, though: We have declared ourselves as a Conclave State, and the Triad is officially declaring war. Dirge, Saedah, retrieved a massive load of data from the Triad that practically tells us everything we need to know to hold our border. That's where we got this list." He showed the list the three of them, their eyes wide at the number.
"We have been doing this for years, and we never suspected the breach was so large." Lonni whispered, taking note of two names on the list and showing them to Jon, who mumbled out a colorful curse that bordered on heretical. Considering the man was an avid follower of his faith, it was a rare and unusual outburst. The two had friends among the spies.
"We could catch one or two a semester in the training, when they would let something slip. We were too heavily dependent on that. Here are some changes we will be making." The next two hours were spent with the three of them bent over new protocols and flags. When they were satisfied with the plans, Vector grinned at the three.
"What?" Lonni asked, looking between Mikil, Jon, and Vector. Jon shared the same grin, already understanding.
"We are his successors." Jon whispered.
"That, and a little more." He pointed to the projector again as it displayed a new file, "The Specters will officially be branching in three directions. Each of you will be heading one of those branches: the Noch, the Fletch, and the Bolt. For now, you still report to me."
"All parts of the same arrow?" Mikil asked, rubbing at his chin. "Clever." Jon rolled his eyes while Lonnie looked between the two.
"I am going to assume that is not sarcasm and continue with what I was saying;" Vector growled, looking sidelong at the man. Vector couldn't suppress a smirk tugging at his lips, though, and Mikil only smiled back. The two had bantered long before Mikil knew the face of Raze, and he was happy it wouldn't change. "The other Ghosts have their High Ten, the Strategos. Except for me and Vidian. I have you three. Congratulations on the promotion, gentlemen." He pulled up their records and showed their new titles and pay grade. Mikil Lankar, Noch Spector Strategos. Jon (Stajonnis) Yristan, Fletch Spector Strategos. Lonni Klahston, Bolt Spector Strategos. The three men stared in shock before settling down and getting back to work. Vector leaned back and watched.
Mikil, the man to lead the Noch, was intelligent and a legend at finding information. Jon, the man to lead the Fletch, was well known for seeing the whole picture. He could almost be considered psychic with how he could see problems before they arose. The Fletch would create the plans based on what the Noch collected and keep the arrow flying smoothly. The bolt, led by lonni, would be the force that acted on the plan and information. They were the ones to be on the front lines, sword and guns in hand. The Bolts would be the new special forces; the elites of the elite.
Vector was the youngest of the Ghosts. He typically acted in a very different manner than the other Ghosts, acting on targets from within the Conclave, rather than without. His job was to find the weak links; the spies in their ranks; the breaches. They sometimes worked closely with Vidian, directing an infiltration of a cell of enemies, even if he could not be on infiltration himself. That partnership would only be growing from here.
"Now, let's discuss this list." Vector pressed a button, bringing the list of spies back up. Names displayed in two columns. Jon, Lonni, and Mikil took places around the DebCon, concentrating on their own glowing display.
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"Who are they?" Jon's voice was muffled by his 'thinking posture'. His balled fist covering his mouth, with his thumb rubbing at his close-shaved beard.
"Low-ranking Fomenters. They will be placed in new positions, where we get to feed them the information we want them to report." He forestalled Lonnie's arguments with a raised hand. "We can't get rid of them all. It's better to have the spy you know, than be stabbed by the one you never see."
"So we lead them on, feed them misinformation, and keep our eyes on them?" Lonni asked, looking to Mikil before turning back to Vector.
"That's the idea. The Ghosts will all know about these individuals. Few others beside, though." He grinned. "We intend to put them to use immediately. First, though, we need information on this Zerrik Thacker. We have a Marjory Wizzen-Thacker and a Sabel Thacker on Lon'Byal in Harbor. According to her entry reports, I think she might be useful."
Vidian, in the private meeting with the Royals and their private guard, as well as her own close chain of command, removed her helmet. The reaction there was not astonishing. What received the most reaction was when Vidian reported the details that directly affected Ceurul. She told the royals what had been broadcast all across the Triad territory. The royals were shocked that they were supposedly held hostage and that Citram was trying to take the throne. The hardest fact was that Ceurul was one of the main targets of the impending attack on the Conclave State.
"So, the Ghosts have declared their territory, then?" Citram's father asked. Vidian nodded. "And without Ceurul, There is no other way to divide your new State?"
"It is your state as well, sir. You, along with the other members of the ruling parties, will have seats at the Conclave Summit, when it is announced. For now, we are focusing on keeping the people safe and preparing the defense and counter-attack measures."
"I understand, Lady Agarra. Other than the protocols and procedures already in place, what do you suggest? If Ceurul is going to be the site of a battle - a long-lasting siege by the looks of it - I want my people safe. Is there anything from the Ghosts on where we are to go? Our stockpiles will not last more than a few months, at best."
"We have no intention of allowing your people to starve in this time, but we do not know how long the war will last, or what disasters may occur. According to your reports, Highness, weapons should already be distributed through your militia. Bunkers should be ready, as well. We would like to welcome your people to NaBoht, as an evacuation measure, an offer extended by all of the Ghosts." Vidian spread her hands over the invitation. "While we offer to harbor your citizens on NaBoht, it is also one of the main targets of Triad forces. We wanted you aware of this so that you may choose the better option for your people. NaBoht is deeper in Conclave territory and is better protected than Ceurul." She paused for a moment to look between the Mokesh and Quierra. "I am sorry to say, but Ceurul will be on the front line of this battle. You will have the full support of Conclave, and we have measures being put in place to hold the line."
"And it is too late to declare neutrality, isn't it?" The Mokesh knew there was no returning to the Triad with any sort of success. Neutrality was also a fail-fail option.
"The data shows that the Triad has been intending to use Ceurul as a military outpost for some time. The problem was dethroning you without causing a political war or alienating other rulers who might find themselves in similar positions. Once they found that Citram was a Ghost, they had the perfect leverage to use against you." Vidian read the report in a neutral tone, fearing how the Quierra would respond.
"Citram is Tidral. She has no root on Ceurul." The older version of Citram spoke with venom and hatred. How could a mother ever hate her child so?
"But the other rulers do not know of Ceur traditions and beliefs. They would not believe you. Not when it comes to the firstborn heir operating as a Conclave Ghost." Vidian had to moderate her tone hard to keep her own venom from poisoning her words. It was hard, and keeping her face neutral was an effort in sainthood. Vidian was never a saint.
"That girl will forever be a plague on this house." Citram's mother said, under her breath, in ceur. It took all of Vidian's willpower to adhere to Citram's 'demand' that she not attempt to repair the relationship with her parents. Every time the queen complained about Citram, she wanted to slap the woman.
But she was the royal advisor representing Conclave. She could not slap the Quierra and expect to survive.
So she showed the royal family what they needed to do to cooperate with the Conclave forces and survive the war. Hours later, the Mokesh initiated a voluntary evacuation, activating the first wave of jump bunkers. They were already rising into the sky over each city, swarmed by smaller vessels ferrying civilians onboard.. Due to the lack of information on Ceurul Triad supporters, the people were left mostly in the dark.
Several teams of Specters arrived, and began their work at ferreting out any possible dissenters. A representative from the Specters approached to discretely relay information to the Mokesh, interrupting the final minutes of Vidian's meeting.
"If you will excuse me, there is one thing I must tend to. I must also apologize in advance. May I use your gardens for an unpleasant matter?" The Mokesh looked at her in confusion before glancing back at the reports. He was a smart man, and Vidian appreciated that. He nodded and turned to lead his wife from the chamber. Vidian excused herself, bowing to their backs.
She met the Specters just outside the double doors leading to the wing the Mokesh had granted for her use. Within this portion of the palace, her team had set up base. Her personal guards held rooms to either side of her own. Her communications officers occupied a set of suites at the end. Her soldiers, the muscles, eyes and ears, and informants rooms were down a separate hallway, with a secret emergency exit leading directly to the port's underside. That emergency exit was used to bring intel to and from the palace without appearing to come anywhere near the palace.
She took that hallway and stopped outside the third interior door. She paused only long enough to place the helmet back on her head and ready her close-quarter staff. She would not soil the rug with blood. Bloodshed would come later.
Nodding to the soldiers around her, she reared back and kicked the door in.
The woman on the other side screeched as Vidian and four armed men entered.
"What is the meaning of this?!" She demanded, fighting the men as they moved to subdue her.
"Sraisa Kambrilion, Sara Kandon, you are under arrest for espionage." Vidian's second, Ardrin, growled as he approached the woman. His deep green eyes, almost black, glared down at the woman from a deeply tanned face speckled with scales of the same deep-green. The agamidian's hair was black, with small veins of green running throughout. His temples were graying, showing his seniority on her team.
Sraisa's body language shifted from startled indignance to outrage and violence. Her feet shifted, and Vidian was again reminded that she was a dangerous foe, drafted from the Spectors. A glint of metal shown a heartbeat before Vidian lurched forward and punched Ardrin. The blade caught against her Skin, sending a cascade of sparks into the room and embedding the short blade into the dense material protecting Vidian's arm.
"Quaintarian steel? That's an expensive piece." Vidian hissed, wrenching the blue-veined knife from Sraisa's grip and backhanding the fool female. The remaining guards subdued her while Vidian knelt over Ardrin. "Sorry about that, cofrade."
"Ah, I'd rather you lay me out any day… than be gutted, for sure." He grasped her outstretched hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. His cheek was already showing a nice bruise as he worked his jaw. He indicated the gouge to her Skin. "That ok? Did she get skin?"
"No, but I want you to go get some ice for that. Meet us in the garden." He nodded and left the room as Vidian lifted Sraisa by the collar and drug her down the hall. "Now, you... "
Thirty minutes later, Vidian was standing over the headless form of Sraisa. She stood, quietly wiping the blood from her sword while Ardrin searched her person. Another crew was scouring her room.
"This is all we could find." A quick-footed tiny slip-of-a-girl ran up, waving a non-conclave-issued slate. She was half Ceur and half Agamidian, raised on Agamid. Her skin was tanned, and her pale hair was pink, as with her eyes and scales. "it's locked on biometrics, but everything else is clean. And I mean spotless. There's nothin' personal in there." Vidian took the slate and plugged an adaptor into the port.
"Thanks, Tris." She watched the girl, woman, run back into the keep. The Ceurish guards sneered at her as she darted past, head held high. They didn't approve of the mixture, and Tris had been less help on the mission than anticipated. They shunned her as though she were Tidral. "Kitty, do your thing."
"Already on it. There are few documents or programs on this. You should be able to access it now." The home screen came on, displaying the three programs on the device. Email, Phone, and a web-browser. "The email account set for this device only has three incoming messages. They are encrypted…. but-" Kitty paused for only a moment before continuing in an excited tone, "You might need to set an additional guard on the Mokesh and Quierra."
The email came up, decrypted.
Objective; kill the Quierra but leave the Mokesh alive, if you can. We want the Mokesh pliant and against the Ghosts. You will find a replica of Ker's suit in the cold-storage, in a box labeled as eggs. Launch the red flair when completed. We will be watching.
"Well, shit." She growled, eyeing the palace windows, roofline, and shadows. "Ardrin, take your men and watch over the royals."
Expecting to face empty space far from the border, the Triad force fell violently from Jump amidst fire and chaos. The devices worked. Somehow Citram's team had found a way to disrupt the Jump process using some serious mathcraft, and it was crippling to the invading force.
For the time being, at least, the defense measures were working.
Over half the attacking force was destroyed in the first moments of battle. The line stretched from Panthra, the least defensible position, to Lon'Bayal. This included RREC1 as Big Inferior, Minor, and RREC2 as Little Inferior. The forces of eight planets were pit against the might of the Triad. Morpheus refused to act for either the Triad or the Conclave, and was prepared to defend itself if either strayed too close.
Saedah listened to the battles from a wall of broadcasts, showing narrow views of the battlefields, distracted as he was with the slate in his lap. He was watching the recordings of the assault on Akuminis keep, as seen from Citram's drones and body cams. When the recordings transitioned to a body cam view of the Sands, Saedah looked to the live feed of the battle. The Conclave forces were thinly stretched, but they'd been able to build their reserves and prepare. They were holding their own against the once supreme and all-mighty military force of the galaxy.
Pure luck had given Saedah the chance to take the information.
Pure determination had given them all the ability to perform the massive undertaking of launching the defense and counter.
Due diligence over years of learning and growing had provided them with the tools to protect the line. The devotion and loyalty of hundreds of thousands of men and women provided the line, to protect hundreds of thousands more within the Conclave State.
He looked back down to see himself waving to Akumini, appearing eager to get the fight started. Not wanting to watch that scene unfold again, he sped the recording through the fight, through the following chaos, to pause at a scene with a dirty woman bound and kneeling before Requiem. He'd watched this already, but the drone footage did not have audio.
"Kitty, is there a body cam feed of this?" He asked, something not settling right with the figure.
"Downloaded onto your slate." She responded, flickering to life beside him as a five-inch figure in an exaggerated replica of Conclave battle armor. She'd created the hulking, spiked suit after their official declaration of war. "You have reviewed these reports three times already. This is not healthy." The recordings had just been released earlier that day. Useless as he was, he'd been bent over his slate for the past few hours.
The video loaded and he watched Akumini strain against her bonds from Vorn's point of view, towering above the woman.
The camera quivered as Vorn kneeled and reached out a gold and black glove, forcing the woman to look into his mask.
"You brought this on yourself." Requiem's distorted voice echoed. Even distorted as it was, Saedah was shocked at the emotion in his words.
"You should have just blew it up from orbit. You think you have stopped something great here? The galaxy is wide, and your valiant attempt to clean it up is wasted." She sneered at him, raising her eyes to the camera. Her deep, pure brown eyes full of malice and anger.
"No, we are just starting." Vector's voice responded from off camera, though Saedah was no longer listening. He was staring at those brown eyes. Brown eyes that did not bear Akumini's blue fleck. "And you put yourself at the top of the list."
With a building sense of fear gripping his heart, he looked up to the displays. Small windows overlaying the battles showed half-staffed flags flying across the Conclave state in honor of the men and women dying to win freedom and peace of mind. The broadcasts were sent to every device throughout the Conclave State, within the affected districts, with reporters speaking over the videos.
As one, the broadcasts switched to a man in black and gold armor. He addressed the people of the Conclave State as Requiem of the Conclave Ghosts. His message was one of hope, desperation, future, and past. His message addressed the mission of Conclave, in seeing a united, prosperous people with equal rights, all working together for future generations.
Before the end of the broadcast, he addressed the man claiming the Gaean throne; the High Vertice.
"Torain Vorun Chrysos, High Vertice of Gaea; Second-born to Hayall and Everleigh Chrysos, brother and survivor to Athelstan and Haylt Chrysos: I am the Conclave Ghost known as Requiem, the Founder of Conclave." From the vacuum of space, war dominated everyone's thoughts, regardless of nationality. Behind the mask, Vorn was smiling.
"I think you and I need to have a talk."