The Genesis Saga

An unmistakable ringtone went off on one of Nessah’s heavily encrypted channels, snapping her out of her thoughts. Ignoring the call wasn’t an option. It was a direct summons from the Tribunal and would keep ringing until she responded. Nessah frowned. They’d only had Reya’s report for an hour, what could they possibly need her for?

She stood up from behind her desk and walked over to the only other door inside her office. It was a heavily locked door, requiring both biometric scans and a unique key to access. Confirming that the user was, in fact, Nessah, it slid open, revealing a small, soundproofed room. In the centre was a podium facing a long, singular wooden desk spread along a curved wall and raised above her.

Nessah ensured that the door was properly sealed behind her and took her place at the podium. She accepted the call and immediately, the image of seven holographic figures appeared spread behind the desk. “Most Honourable Elders,” she said with a deferential bow of her head. “How may I serve?” Nessah knew that this was the time to display her utmost manners. She couldn’t afford a slip up in front of the Elders.

Seven people looked down upon her from their dais. Even after all these years, their scrutinous gazes still intimidated Nessah. She felt like her every action was being picked apart, from how she held herself to what she said and how she said it.

“General Nessah, thank you for answering our summons so quickly,” said the Elder in the middle, an aged man with a short grey beard and hair. He gave off an imposing sense of authority from where he sat and was dressed in dark blue and purple ceremonial clothes adorned with geometric patterns. As Arbiter of the Tribunal, his role was to mediate disputes between the Elders. If he was calling her here, then there was a problem that needed to be resolved. “We’ve called you here today to ask for your opinion on the matter regarding the research facility that has been recently discovered. If you would be so kind as to share your thoughts on the matter,” he continued, ceding the floor to Nessah.

“Certainly, Elder Kaius,” Nessah said, scrambling to put her thoughts in order. “May I ask what the purpose of my opinion is?” She tried desperately to determine what the play here was. It was imperative that she knew what kind of impact her opinion would have and who was going to benefit the most. Her gaze flitted about the room, trying to gauge the Elders’ reactions.

“We would rather you give an honest opinion without being influenced by the matter at hand.”

Nessah nodded. “I understand,” she said slowly. “As you all know we have recently discovered a research facility in the Arvis sector. Initially, scouts were sent to investigate anomalous activity that had been detected. During their mission, they encountered enemy hostiles and were forced to retreat.”

Nessah watched the Elders nod along, clearly already aware of what she was explaining. She decided to speed up her speech. “One of the team members was presumed to be killed in action and her team was forced to retreat to save their own lives. They were unprepared to face an unknown amount of enemies. The member that was presumed dead was, in fact, alive and being held captive. She resourcefully contacted us and was promptly rescued by her team.” She paused for a moment to catch her breath before continuing. “Earlier today I sent you her medical report, highlighting the abuse she suffered to protect information about the mission. In return, she obtained important information. We learned that the building inside the mountain is a research facility run by the gru’ul and appears to be very important to them, as well as secretive in nature. We know not why they’re in the Arvis sector, nor what they’re researching. It might not be as much as we were hoping for, but it’s a start.”

“That’s fine and all, but we’re already aware of these facts, General,” interrupted one of the Elders to her left. It was Elder Cirrus, the most recent Elder welcomed to the Tribunal, having assumed the position only ten years ago. She had the shortest temper among the Elders and was well known for her militaristic tendencies.

“Let her continue,” Elder Orryn said from across the desk, her calm voice resonating throughout the room. “I want to hear her full opinion on the matter, even if that means going over some facts we already know.”

“It’s a waste of our time, that’s what it is,” Cirrus growled. “We should be taking action, not meandering about twiddling our thumbs.”

“We’re not meandering about simply by listening to our General speak.”

“That’s enough,” Kaius intoned with gravitas. The two bickering Elders quietened down, although Cirrus wore an unhappy expression. Kaius had been the Arbiter for as long as Nessah could remember. He didn’t speak often, but his words held a great weight whenever he did. “Let General Nessah continue,” he rumbled.

“The Arvis sector falls under our controlled space, a fact that is known to the gru’ul,” Nessah resumed speaking. “They have violated the treaty that binds our races by occupying our space without permission. Their actions could be constituted as an act of war.” Cirrus looked smug from where she sat as Nessah spoke. “I believe it’s in our best interest to learn what the gru’ul are studying in the facility. We’ve seen the wonders of their technology, but they refuse to share it with us. What objects we have found have led to various important discoveries. Our ability to communicate instantly is one such example, gained by studying one of their translators, of all things.”

Nessah took a deep breath before continuing. “However, we must proceed with caution. Capturing their facility might be construed as an act of war from their perspective, which is to be avoided at all costs.”

“What’s the point of a military if you don’t use it?” Cirrus scoffed.

“Cirrus, that’s enough. We are to let General Nessah finish,” Kaius said. Cirrus stopped talking and let Nessah continue.

“I would like to know what’s in that facility that’s so important that they’re willing to die and so severely torture our soldier for. I believe that we should capture the facility but try not to kill the occupants. We can keep them for questioning. The opportunities presented to us should not be ignored. Additionally, I would like to learn about that mystery substance. If it is as painful as Corporal Ayala described, then I want it either destroyed or under our control. Such a thing should not be allowed to exist.”

“It would make for the perfect weapon against enemy factions,” Cirrus pointed out.

“If it’s as bad as it’s made out to be, then it should be considered a crime against the a’vaarian race as a whole. We should never use it,” Orryn countered. Kaius made no move to stop the two from bickering, allowing their points to be heard.

“Think about how we’d be able to extract information from prisoners,” Cirrus said.

“Absolutely not!” Orryn slammed the desk, horrified at the idea. “That would be torture for the sake of torture. Anybody would break under that and simply say whatever it takes to ensure it never happens again. You wouldn’t get any real information out of them.”

“It turned Corporal Ayala obedient, didn’t it?” Cirrus flipped through the report. “It says here that she listens without protest and eagerly fulfills demands.”

“By the gods, that woman was inhumanely tortured for a month! She’s probably subconsciously trying to avoid more pain by listening to instructions. She’s broken. Just look at this report. Would you really wish that upon somebody else?” Orryn stabbed a finger at the offending document. It was a rare sight to see her so up in arms over something when she was usually very calm.

“The substance can’t be that bad. She didn’t lose her mind over it. She’s not insane and has no wounds to show for it.” Elder Cirrus argued.

“It’s a chemical weapon, Cirrus,” Orryn spat. “Do you remember the last time a chemical weapon was used? Because I do. I was present on the battlefield when it happened. The results were horrifying. Bodies melted where they stood, enemy and ally alike. It’s what led to the utmost ban on the use of chemical weapons over a hundred years ago.”

“This isn’t the same and you know it.”

“Of course it’s the same! I don’t want anything to do with such a substance. You weren’t there, Cirrus. You didn’t see the aftermath. The place it happened is now considered a dead zone. No life will ever flourish there.”

The remaining Elders remained silent, impassively watching the exchange. Differences of opinions were to be expected, after all. It prevented hasty decisions and kept the Tribunal in check.

“I think we’ve heard enough about the topic for now,” Kaius said. “Now then, it’s time to put our thoughts to a vote. Those in favour of bolstering our defenses and keeping an eye on the facility, vote now.”

Green lights appeared above three of the Elders as they tapped at something Nessah couldn’t see. Orryn was among them. Her stance had been made clear earlier; she wanted nothing to do with whatever that substance was, including studying it in-depth.

Nessah couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Never before had she borne witness to a Tribunal vote. Such things were held in utmost secrecy. While she stood there trying not to gape, Kaius looked around the room for any other possible voters. After what he deemed to be sufficient time had passed, he presented the next option.

“For those in favour of capturing the facility and learning its secrets, vote now,” he said.

Three blue lights appeared above Cirrus and the remaining two Elders’ heads. The floating balls hung in the air, clearly denoting each Elder’s opinion on the matter.

“It appears we have a tie,” Elder Kaius said. “I won’t bother listing the other options, as each Elder only gets one vote and you all already knew them. It would appear as if my vote is to be the tiebreaker.” Stroking his beard while he thought, he looked between Orryn and Cirrus again. “I would like to hear each of your points one last time before I decide,” he announced. “Orryn, the floor’s all yours.”

Orryn nodded, knowing that she wouldn’t have very long to convince Kaius. “Not only does attacking their facility potentially entail a war, the use of chemical weapons has been banned. I fear that if we are allowed to study it, we will attempt to reproduce it and inevitably use it. I don’t think we should take that chance. Now that we know the gru’ul are up to something, we can monitor them properly while preparing for a possible attack.”

“Thank you Orryn, you’ve made some excellent points. Cirrus, it is now your turn.”

Cirrus shot Orryn a look before starting. “It appears that the point of contention here is the mystery substance. I don’t want such a weapon in enemy hands. If the facility is a black site like I suspect, then there’s a strong chance that the gru’ul military doesn’t yet have possession of the knowledge on how to synthesize it.” Cirrus assumed a sobering look. “It’s better that we assume control over it rather than allow our enemies to have it. Capturing their facility would finally give us unfettered access to their technology, something they’ve long denied us. I feel that the potential for war is minimal, as it would imply admitting that they purposefully created that substance to be used against us, at which point a war would be inevitable anyway,” she finished.

Elder Kaius continued stroking his beard, deep in thought. “Both of you raise valid points,” he said finally. “However,” he paused, “it is also General Nessah’s professional opinion that the facility be captured. Therefore, my vote will follow her recommendation. I officially vote for capturing the facility. Let the records show that the vote was four to three.”

There was an immediate stir amongst the Elders. Nessah’s opinion had been used as the remaining vote. In addition, the Arbiter had allowed her presence during the voting session. Such a thing had never been done before.

Some voiced their disproval at the outcome of the votes. Cirrus staunchly defended the outcome, claiming that it was legitimate. The vote had been cast by the Arbiter, with no foul play. It was his job to make such votes, after all.

Orryn was against it. She claimed that their voting sessions were to be held behind closed doors. Allowing an outsider to be present violated that sacrosanct rule.

Kaius calmed the disputing Elders with a single raise of his hand. “For such an important matter that will decide the future of our race,” he said, “I believe it necessary to have an informed, outside opinion. One that is not biased by the ongoings of the Tribunal. I deem such a vote a special circumstance that may not be judged by ordinary rules.”

Not a single person spoke while he made his decree. The Arbiter was a very special position in the Tribunal. They held the final say whenever there was a tie. Their word was law in such instances. The Elders would have no choice but to accept the outcome of the vote, knowing that the same outcome would occur even if the votes were recast.

Cirrus had a gleeful smile on her face. The outcome had been in her favour, and she was doing her best not to openly celebrate. Still, she couldn’t contain her emotions. Orryn wore a serene mask, giving away nothing about how she felt, yet couldn’t quite hide the disappointment in her eyes.

“General Nessah,” Elder Kaius said with a twinkle in his eye, “I do believe you have a mission to prepare for and a military to reorganize. That is all for now.”

“Elder Kaius, before I go,” Nessah started. “I would like to know what is to become of Corporal Ayala.”

“That is a rather important topic, given the circumstances,” the Elder responded. “Based on the medical report, I believe it best to honourably discharge her from the military so that she may properly recover. She is no longer fit for duty. Additionally, she is to be monitored as a person of interest due to her involvement in the matter at hand.”

Nessah stiffened at his response. She’d been hoping that Reya would be allowed back on active duty in a few months, but that hope had just been thoroughly dashed.

“In honour of her service,” Kaius continued, “I propose that we give her a special promotion to the rank of lieutenant, as well as the Silver Star medal of honour, awarded only to those who have sacrificed much for our faction and lived to tell the tale. For the pain and grief caused by her service to us, the military shall take care of all she needs during her recovery. This, naturally, includes living expenses. All in agreement?”

Six other lights immediately lit up above the Elders’ heads.

The opportunity that Reya had provided them to capture gru’ul technology was a pivotal point in their faction’s history. If all went well, Reya could have helped shape their future significantly. She would be hailed as a hero in the Hall of the Greats. What she would represent was yet to be determined, but everyone present knew she would be there. It was in the army’s best interest to help her recover after her ordeal. They would come out stronger for it.

Some of the Elders plotted gleefully at the political opportunity the good press provided. Others genuinely for the sake of Reya. Some for reasons still unknown. Regardless of their intentions, for the first time in over fifty years, the vote was unanimous. The Arbiter added his own vote to the mix, making it so that seven identical lights now represented their decision.

Nessah watched in awe at the spectacle afforded to her. She had just witnessed history in the making. She hadn’t realized the topic of Reya would be what gave the Tribunal their united front. She suddenly felt very small, wondering how she would be remembered when all was said and done. She looked on at the giants in front of her in envy.

The lights diffused and all was as it was, with nothing to show for the momentous event that just occurred. Kaius spoke up once more. “If that is all, General, then you are dismissed. The Tribunal thanks you for input.”

With that, the holographic images in front of her winked out of existence and Nessah was left alone in the room. Still in shock, she braced herself upon her podium as her legs went weak. The implications of having seen the Tribunal vote deeply disturbed her. She didn’t appreciate being used as somebody else’s pawn in a game she didn’t know the rules to. For now, though, she had an army to run.

Reya watched Rann and Tassie leave and closed the door behind them. The faint smile she wore slowly faded until she was left with a blank, expressionless face. She sagged wearily in her wheelchair. It had been hard, keeping up the act earlier during the day when she was out with her friends. She could tell that they were making every effort they could to help her feel normal again and she loved them for it.

It wasn’t enough. Now that she was alone again there was nothing left to distract her. Nothing left to keep her thoughts and memories at bay. She sat there, unmoving for a long while. Eyeing the bed warily, she decided against sleeping just yet. In all the haste and excitement of the day, she’d forgotten to pick up her prescription for her sleeping pills.

Reya sighed. She doubted that she would be getting any sleep tonight. The shadows in the room stretched, looming over her. She busily began organizing her purchases, shaking her growing feeling of unease. This was the first time she had been truly alone since coming back, and she did not feel safe. She looked over her shoulder constantly towards the door and jumped every time she heard a sound. She knew it was irrational, but she couldn’t help herself. She hoped she would get better soon.

She had to.