EVE®: Templar One (17 page)

>>Conclusion

Mordu’s Legion has thrived since the start of the Empyrean War, especially as casualties to conventional Empire forces continue to skyrocket.
The entity’s most valuable asset is its cultural diversity and its strong loyalty to Mordu.
A breadth of skill sets and resources once available only to the most powerful nations is now available to this group, as evidenced by the defection of former Federation Navy captain Korvin Lears to their cause.
Their scientific, military, and industrial capacity, combined with solid trade relations with other pirate organizations, makes Mordu’s Legion a potent geopolitical entity whose international influence should not be underestimated.

Mordu himself seems to have developed a keen personal interest in confronting the Amarr Empire, perhaps out of sympathy for the Minmatar, or more likely to learn what he can about Xerah Effect weapons technology.

The meeting concludes with group affirmation of Inner Circle Director Irhes Angireh’s proposal to deploy THANATOS, agreeing that the program’s usefulness has thus far lived up to billing.
Tara Rushi maintains prior disagreement, citing that CONCORD has overstepped its bounds.
Comment is noted and amended.

>>END FILE

THE FORGE REGION—ETSALA CONSTELLATION

THE VASALA SYSTEM—PLANET V, MOON 15

ISHUKONE CORPORATE FACTORY—TEMPORARY HQ

SOVEREIGNTY OF THE CALDARI STATE

Mens emerged from the security checkpoints of his own home aboard Ishukone HQ Station and found his daughter sitting alone in the living room.
Old family vids were projecting from the entertainment center, bringing back fond memories.
But there was little else about the living space that fit his own idea about what a home should look like.
Instead of welcoming homestead decor, his wife had opted for a stylistic elegance more befitting the elite caste to which they belonged.

He hated it.
He always had.
Between its coldness and all the security—knowing that powerful weapons and an omnipresent AI were always nearby—his home was just a military bunker in disguise.

Mens quietly took a seat next to his daughter, looking at the images.
He saw a much younger version of himself playing with Amile, tossing her in the air and catching her, zooming her through a park like she was a flying superhero.
Her giggles were absolutely contagious; Mens caught himself smiling broadly, just as he had back then, at his daughter’s delight.

Then the camera focus switched to her mother, Lorin, who appeared concerned, a look that had etched deeper into her eyes with time.
The reality sunk home for Mens, pulling him away from what was otherwise a delightful memory.

“She wants to leave you,” Amile said.

“She hasn’t told me that,” Mens nodded, still looking at his memories.
“Not yet.”

“You would have to make time for a conversation first.”

“I know,” Mens said dejectedly.
“Amile, I’m sorry about the university.
That’s … horrible.
I can’t even…”

He took a deep breath before continuing; he didn’t want the poisonous thought of Tibus Heth defiling this precious moment with his only child.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you when it happened.”

“It’s not your fault,” she answered, standing abruptly and crossing her arms.
“Besides, it gave me the closure I needed.”

Lorin used the exact same mannerism whenever she was uncomfortable.
Amile looked very much like her mother, sharing her slender build, piercing eyes, and high cheekbones.
She was a beautiful young woman who could excel at anything she tried.

Mens wanted to ask what “closure” she wanted, scared to the pit of his stomach of what that implied.
But instead, he forced himself to just listen.

“I fooled myself into thinking there was something normal out there for us,” she started.
“A life that didn’t require armed guards … someplace where I could befriend people without having them background-checked or interrogated.
A life where I didn’t need to be watched by machines and strangers
all the time.
”

“We didn’t anticipate this,” Mens answered solemnly.
“Your mother and I fell in love years ago, but our careers—”

“I
know
what happened,” she interrupted.
“You grew apart.
It happens.
Whether or not that was inevitable I can’t say, but these … crazy circumstances certainly didn’t help.”

Mens felt crushing guilt and surprise at the same time.

“
Millions
of people depend on you.
How can anyone grasp what that even means?
You’re a mega-corporation CEO.
I can’t relate to anyone because of that.
When I was at the academy, I would hear conversations about vid stars, dating gossip, fashion … all stuff I should be interested in, right?
Like a normal person would?
But then I’d come home to discussions about national security and mega-politics.
It got so tiring trying to relate I just gave up.
Most of them are so … self-centered, so insulated from the things that really matter.
I can’t understand them.”

Mens jumped out of his chair.

“Amile, I’m so sorry.… How many times have I said that now?”
he implored.
“I blame myself for this mess, but I have the means to shelter you from it completely.
We can hide you in plain sight, use technology to change your identity, even the way you look.
If that’s what you truly want, I can make it happen.”

She smiled.

“But what about the Broker?
And if not him, then Tibus Heth, and now what … maybe the entire Caldari State as well?”

“We’re going to find a way to stop this,” Mens staggered.
“We are
not
going to quit!”

“I’m not saying we should,” she answered.
“I’m … proud of you, Dad.
Proud to be your daughter.
Sometimes, I think Mother resents me for supporting you so much.
But if it’s going to be us against everyone else, we need to be closer.
I want to be more a part of your life.
I have a right to take an active role in protecting myself.
It’s not that I don’t trust you to do that … it’s just that this is personal now.
I hate the people who did this to us as much as you do.
So if the State won’t let me into their damn universities … then you’re just going to have to teach me everything you know.”

Mens’s bottom lip was quivering.
Was it possible to love someone any more than this?

And then at that exact moment, Mila Gariushi sent him a message.
For the time being, he ignored it.

“But please,” Amile said, “I want you to try, one last time, to work things out with Mom.
So I can have closure in that part of my life as well.”

“I will,” Mens promised.
“One last time.”

Mens,

Haatakan provided the details of your conversation.
She supplied logistical instructions for this op, which I’ve forwarded to Rali.
I can’t overemphasize just how crucial it is that you honor your side of the agreement.
If there’s anyone more determined to rid the cluster of Tibus Heth than us, it’s her.
She will stop at nothing to achieve this.
Don’t underestimate her.

I also wanted to warn you that VILAMO suspects she’s working directly with pirate organizations without consent or awareness from Heth or the CPD.
It’s no secret that Ishukone has cordial relations with Mordu’s Legion, but you know how damaging it would be if it was suggested that the Guristas or Serpentis cartels were directly involved in Ishukone affairs.
Cover your trail thoroughly, Mens.

I would be remiss if I didn’t admit to thinking a great deal about your visit.

I’m sorry it happened, but then I have no regrets either.
I am … ashamed of myself, in spite of my sincere wish that it would happen again.

Yours Always,

Mila Gariushi

18

GENESIS REGION—EVE CONSTELLATION

THE NEW EDEN SYSTEM

>>
SIGNIFICANCE
MISSION LOG ENTRY

>>BEGIN RECORDING

In the early years of my tutelage under Lord Falek Grange, my days and nights were filled with learning.
He was ruthless, keeping the pace so unrelenting that by the age of sixteen, I had mastered all the academic proficiencies necessary to become an empyrean.
But I couldn’t fathom for what purpose.
Between my guilt over the death of his parents and apprehension of where this path was leading, I found my motivation waning.
At some point, my scientific fascination with the world was overcome by anxieties of self-doubt—of wondering how Lord Grange could be so certain of my purpose when I did not know it myself.

Of course, the AI monitoring my progress detected this immediately, so Falek took measures to ensure my focus.

He directed the Royal Paladins overseeing my care to permanently remove any distraction from my studies.
Cybernetic implants that enhanced my willpower and memory were installed in my brain.
They administered drugs to release endorphins for academic achievements but to suppress them for virtually all other stimuli.
I was chemically castrated to minimize the carnal urges of puberty.

I wasn’t even allowed to sleep.
The implants, I was told, were doing that for me.

My mental health deteriorated.
For reasons that Falek never disclosed, the memory of my passage into madness and the consequences that followed were removed.

But what I do remember vividly is the first time I saw
her
.

Any man would be willing to drop every commitment, promise, or ethic to be with her.
Even in my medicated state, her appearance took the breath from my lungs.
As Heiress Jamyl Sarum entered the lab, the other scientists parted before her, bowing their deference as I stood paralyzed, my elation hijacked by the drugs pumping through my veins.

“Marcus,” she said to me.
“Do you know why you’re here?”

Lord Grange was standing well behind her but kept his glare on me.

“No, my lady,” I answered cautiously; “I’m afraid I don’t.”

“I know what it’s like to be born with a gift,” she said, drawing closer.
“I am the heiress to an empire.
And that has become a curse to me.
Is that familiar to you?”

I said nothing but brought it upon myself to look into her eyes.
They radiated empathy—and a sadness that hovered close to desperation.

“I need your help,” she continued.
“Your extraordinary gift could be a great asset for us.
But I cannot say what cause you would serve.…”

She appeared uncomfortable.

“It’s ridiculous,” she said.
“Asking you to commit to something that you can’t know … yet.
But I’m compelled to test your allegiance.
You’re to take this oath on faith alone, because that is what this religion demands of me.”

A faint hint of anger crept across her brow.

“No matter,” she said.
“I won’t throw you or anyone else into a ‘test of faith’ blindly.”

And then, she cursed me: “You share a tragic history with Lord Grange.
He could force you to join us, but I won’t allow it.
By my order he may only use his word to convince you.
No more drugs.
He must appeal to your heart, and you must decide for yourself.”

Lord Grange said nothing, and I was speechless.

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” she added, with sincere compassion.

I had no idea what she meant at the time.

*   *   *

HOURS LATER, I FOUND MYSELF
aboard a transport approaching an indescribably destitute colony.
I knew nothing of where it was, not even the name of the planet we landed on.
As usual, Lord Grange refused to speak during the journey, not even within the confines of the armored transport as it wound through the dark steel corridors of this miserable place.
The Paladins who escorted us displayed startling awe for the man: It was the sort of reverence reserved for an heir or the Emperor.
But there was a pronounced sense of fear among them as well.
Falek Grange was no man to be crossed.
His academic and theological credentials notwithstanding, I wondered what he had done to command so much respect.

The transport slowed to a halt in a filthy alley.
Homeless, disease-ridden people—Minmatars, by the looks of it—lay strewn about in makeshift shelters among the rubble.

“Put these on,” Lord Grange said, tossing over a ragged long coat and head scarf.
“We’re going for a walk.”

Leaving the vehicle was a terrifying prospect.
The buildings outside bore Amarr architecture infused with some Matar influence; the iconic Athran design of once-beautiful structures were blackened with industrial soot.
As the transport’s door slid open, my sinuses were assaulted by the raw stench of humanity.
Droplets of acidic rain began falling, and I reluctantly stepped into the mud.

From the shadows, two homeless Minmatar men emerged, walking purposely toward us.
Both were holding weapons—clubs fashioned from scrap that could bludgeon and maim.
I froze, literally petrified in fear.
But Lord Grange stepped before them, and to my great surprise, both men kneeled.

“My lord,” one said.
“The infidels are gathered in the cathedral.”

I realized that my garb matched their own, like some sort of tribal marking.

“Our men are in position,” the other said.
“The locals are unsuspecting.”

“Good,” Lord Grange said.
“Return to your cover and await my command.”

“Yes, my lord,” they both said.
One gave me an approving nod before running off into the night.

“You know these men?”
I asked.

“They are Kameiras,” Lord Grange said.
“Beneath their Minmatar skin beats an Amarr heart.
We’re surrounded by them; there should be no danger.”

“My lord, I humbly ask: Where are we?”
I implored.
“Why have you brought me here?”

For the first time in my life, I saw him smile, but only briefly.

“My parents owned this land,” he started.

A sickening feeling swept over me.

“They left it to me when they died.”

I took a deep breath.

“I take full responsibility,” I said.
“Their death is my fault, and I cannot apologize enough.…”

What he said next nearly made me collapse.

“It was
not
your fault,” he said bitterly.
“You were a naïve, innocent child.
How could you know what those slaves were capable of?”

“But my punishment—”

“You’ve more than atoned,” he said, stepping onto the cracked pavement.
Several denizens lay muttering incoherently against the building walls.
“But I couldn’t let you think you had.”

“What?
Then why in God’s name—”

He whirled around, glaring at me.

“I will not tolerate blasphemy,” he warned.
“Is that understood?”

I said nothing, instantly intimidated again.
But my anger quickly crept back.

“I have the right to know why I was subjected to—”

“Because I had to know if you were the prodigy they said you were,” he answered, resuming his stroll.
He seemed completely unconcerned about the danger or the putrid rain that was falling with more intensity now.
“You were blessed with a brilliant mind, Marcus.
We can put it to good use.”

“I know that already,” I said, proud of myself for being defiant.
“But if my dues are paid, am I free to go?”

“If that’s your choice,” he said flatly, to my continued amazement.
“Will you walk with me first?”

I stared at him in disbelief.
Reluctantly, I stepped deeper into the darkness, trying to cover my face with the head scarf.
At least it offered some relief from the stench.

“My parents built all this as an experiment,” Lord Grange said as we walked.
The avenue led up a slight hill, where wisps of fog obscured a great structure looming in the distance.
Most of the buildings we passed were abandoned; the lighting from makeshift fires danced in the entrances of several.

“They decided to break ranks with the church by purchasing slaves just to release them here,” he continued.
“They would have been excommunicated if not for their political influence.”

“Why is that a crime?”
I asked, raising my voice over the downpour.

“Because it’s cruel to give anyone a choice,” Lord Grange answered, walking toward a figure lying prone beneath some metal scraps.
“Just as we cannot choose our parents, our faith is a mandate at birth.
The laws of nature are immutable because God created them, and no living creature has a choice of whether to follow them.”

A chill ran up my spine.

“A Believer’s heart must be so pure that choice never factors into the commitment to Amarr,” he continued.
“But my parents disagreed.
They argued that all men want to touch God.
So forcing slaves into faith was unnecessary.
Slaves would choose to be Reclaimed on their own accord—if first given a chance to ‘evaluate’ our beliefs first.
My parents were convinced that once they were exposed to our way of life, the rational side of them would make the right choice.”

He stopped at the man’s feet, kicking aside the metal scraps.
Expended drug canisters littered the ground.
The downpour was striking him directly in the face, but he did not move.
His gaunt skin and sullen eyes suggested he wasn’t far from death.

“This one failed a simple test of faith,” he said.
“He would rather fill his veins with chemicals than accept God’s everlasting fulfillment.
Pity.”

Lord Grange shook his head.
Then he raised his boot and slammed it down into the man’s larynx.

Again, I was paralyzed.
This “great man of faith” had just murdered in cold blood.

“Are you insane?”
I finally exclaimed.

“Look around, Marcus,” he said, casually lifting his foot from the gory pulp.
“Look at what
choice
gave these people.”

He kicked the metal scraps back over the corpse.

“There were no glaive collars here,” he continued.
“No Vitoc injections.
These slaves could have made this colony anything they wanted.
Marcus, they were given a utopia!
This—” he said, gesturing toward the corpse “—is what they made of it, what they chose.
Giving them God’s glory wasn’t enough.
But I know how to correct this.”

A woman’s scream pierced the downpour’s roar, followed by the sound of a struggle nearby.

“What was that?”
I asked.

“Another choice,” he said, matter-of-factly.
“Some depravity is happening right in our midst.”

“Won’t your Kameiras stop them?”
I asked.

“Absolutely not,” Lord Grange answered, walking away.
“Under no circumstances will they interfere.”

The woman’s desperate cries for help were silenced.

“Why?”
I demanded, infuriated now.
“You’re just going to let these people destroy themselves?”

“It’s their choice,” he said with a smile.
“But I know how to save them.
Look up there.”

Following the direction of his outstretched arm, I saw wisps of smog clear to reveal the ruins of a cathedral atop the hill.
The once-glorious architecture was a shamble; at some point it must have been engulfed in flames.
I couldn’t imagine what mobs were capable of defiling such beauty.

“The warmth of God’s compassion wasn’t enough,” he said.
“It was just another building, with another man inside proclaiming words about faith.
They rejected it.
Why?
Because the words don’t matter unless they can
touch
the Divine.
So that’s what we must do.
We must make them believe, Marcus.
We must
show
them God!”