Chapter 41
Breakfast Banter and Borrowed Power
The smell of synthesized eggs and toasted protein-waffles filled the mess hall. Kaelen sat with his team, the memory of yesterday's sparring match still fresh in the air. Jax was, predictably, milking it for all it was worth.
"And then, whoosh!" Jax gestured with a forkful of eggs, "A little flame right in Tamar's face—not to burn, just to distract! And while our two favorite mountains were blinking, Kaelen slipped right through! Poetry in motion, I tell you."
Roric, methodically working through a mountain of food, grunted without looking up. "Your 'poetry' didn't even burn my hair."
"But it worked!" Jax insisted, reaching over to playfully pull on Roric's stony bicep. "Admit it, you big lump. You were dazzled."
"I was annoyed," Roric corrected, though a faint smirk threatened to break his stoic expression.
Cedric, sipping a nutrient-rich shake, interjected in his flat, analytical tone. "Analysis: Jax's pyrokinesis provided a 3.7% tactical advantage. The primary variable for victory was Kaelen's combat efficiency. His reaction times and decision-making under pressure are statistical outliers for his documented background."
Tamar, the Kulthean Forge-Warden, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "That's what I want to know. How? This wasn't just training-hall skill. That was... seasoned. Were you residential police on Aethelgard? A security contractor?"
Kaelen offered an easy smile, the lie now a well-practiced tool. "Nothing so exciting. I'm just a quick learner. And a lifelong fan of the Aegis League. I guess I spent too many hours studying the highlight reels." He deftly changed the subject, looking at Roric and Tamar. "Speaking of which, your synchronization was impressive. It was like fighting a single entity with four arms."
The conversation flowed easily, a comfortable back-and-forth between the eight of them. Aisha, the Veridian Biotuner, was explaining to a fascinated Elara how she could sense the slight stress in the ship's hydroponic gardens from over-pruning.
Their chatter was interrupted as Luna, Elara, and Aisha joined them, sliding their trays onto the table. The boys' conversation died down as they caught the tail end of the girls' discussion.
"...so the bounty on 'Silent Mary' is now high enough to buy a small moon," Luna was saying, her eyes wide with dramatic flair.
"Silent Mary?" Jax leaned in, instantly interested. "Who's that?"
"A void marauder," Aisha explained. "Her ship, the Whisper, is a ghost. They say she raided a Veridian Syndicate transport and made off with a year's worth of refined Aetherium crystals."
Elara, her voice soft, added, "I've seen the bulletins. There's also 'Kraken,' who operates near the Oceanic League trade lanes. His fleet specializes in hijacking automated cargo haulers." She shivered slightly. "The emotions imprinted on the distress beacons... they're pure, undiluted greed."
Cedric nodded, his cybernetic eye whirring softly as he accessed data. "The Federation's Most Wanted list is extensive. It is a logical career path for those with Enhanced abilities who reject Federal authority." He paused. "There is an unconfirmed rumor. Dr. Aris Thorne II, the Avalon researcher charged with 'Cognitive Transference' violations... he escaped custody after his experiments became public. Federation intelligence suspects he may have sought refuge with a marauder faction. His knowledge would be a significant asset."
Aisha sighed, pushing her food around her plate. "It's terrible, but at least the space pirates are... human. Their motives, however twisted, are something we can understand. Greed, power, freedom. But the Church of the Unblinking Eye..." She trailed off, a look of distaste on her face.
Luna's playful mood sobered. "That's different. There are lots of small cults out in the Fringe, but the Church is the only one the Federation hasn't been able to eradicate. They're like a weed that grows back no matter how many times you burn it."
"What do they even do?" Jax asked, his curiosity piqued.
"That's the thing, nobody really knows for sure," Luna admitted, lowering her voice. "It's all whispers and shadows. But the rumor, from some declassified reports, is that their system of power is... unique. They don't cultivate strength from within, like Vitalists or even most Psions. They don't weave external Aether like Weavers. The stories say they... borrow it."
Roric snorted, his disdain immediate and palpable. "Borrowed power? That is no power at all. It is a chain. True strength is what you forge with your own hands, what you build in your own body. Anything else is a lie waiting to collapse."
Jax grinned, elbowing the bigger man. "Yeah? You go tell that to a high-order cultist then. I'll be sure to visit your statue in the memorial hall. 'Here lies Roric. He thought borrowed power wasn't true power.'"
The table erupted in laughter, the dark topic momentarily lightened by their camaraderie. They finished their meal amidst the lively discussion, the vast, unknown dangers of the galaxy feeling a little less intimidating when faced together.
Later, in the training field, the topic shifted to the future. "One year at the Enhancer Academy on Elysian," Jax mused, dodging a slow-moving training drone. "What courses are you all thinking of taking? I have no idea. Maybe... Advanced Pyrokinetic Control? Sounds flashy."
"I'm still considering my options," Kaelen said, which was the truth. His path was complicated by the secret training he was receiving light-years away.
Roric and Tamar, however, were decisive. "The Mechanized Assault Suit operator track," Tamar stated, his eyes gleaming with passion.
"Mechs?" Jax whistled. "I thought that tech was locked down tight."
"Public research and ownership are restricted to Fourth Order clearance and above," Cedric clarified. "Fifth Tier technology is for Federal military use only. However, the Academy offers foundational courses on mechanized theory, maintenance, and piloting for approved Enhancer cadets. The combat power and logistical utility of a single MAS unit can equal a small platoon."
"See?" Roric said, a rare spark of excitement in his voice. "That is true power. Harnessing technology, becoming one with a machine of war. It's the pinnacle of practical strength."
"But the pilot track is similar, right?" Jax asked. "You both sit in a cockpit and blow things up."
Cedric shook his head. "Incorrect. Pilot track focuses on starship operation—navigation, capital ship combat, fighter squadron tactics. It is a theater of war. The MAS operator track is for terrestrial domination and specialized missions. The bases of knowledge have some overlap but are fundamentally different disciplines."
They spent the rest of the day practicing, but also mingling. Luna's idea to build connections was a good one. Kaelen found himself trading tips with a telekinetic from the Verdant Heart, while Jax attempted, and failed, to impress a group of girls Avalon cyber-augments with his fire tricks. The hall was a buzzing hive of potential alliances and future rivals.
After a final group dinner, Kaelen returned to his cabin. The social energy of the day was replaced by a familiar, pulling urgency. It was time to check on his other life. He lay on his bunk, closed his eyes, and reached for the silver cord.
The transition was a sudden plunge from the sterile hum of the starship into the gritty reality of a body on the move. He was Renly, saddle-sore and alert, the scent of pine and horse filling his nostrils. The memory-stream from the autopilot flooded in: days of travel south, the landscape changing, the tension growing.
His column of twenty-three—himself, Lyra, Will, and twenty militiamen—was a day's ride from Blackstone. They were navigating the familiar, yet now ominous, Serpent's Pass. The sun was low, casting long shadows through the trees.
He was just about to call for a halt to make camp when the sound cut through the evening quiet. It was distant, but unmistakable.
The clash of steel. A shouted curse. The sound of a fight.
Renly held up a clenched fist, bringing the entire column to an immediate, silent halt. Every man drew their weapon, their eyes scanning the shadowed woods. Its seems their journey truly begins now.