Chapter 1: Final Score

  Crosshairs flickered onto the heads-up display in my visor. I was prone, boots braced, the TR-58 sniper rifle snug against my shoulder. Normally it fired .45 tritanium projectile rounds, but this one was pulse-energy equipped—suppressed to non-lethal levels. But still packed a serious punch.

  Sunlight flared off the targeting adapter’s forward lens, but not at an angle they could see. Far below, past the trees surrounding the bunker-like installation, I caught the first flicker of movement.

  Found you.

  I smirked curtly, cheek resting against the rifle’s buttstock as I peered through the adapter. Breathing through my nose. Small, steady. Movement minimal. Just enough to track them, but slow enough that they would not see me.

  Two ‘enemy’ figures emerged, sprinting low along the perimeter. Even from five hundred meters, I could tell it was Bill and T’alkar—the Irish-born human and the Earth-born Thaelari. An odd pair of friends.

  I was distant, downwind, but with x30 zoom and aim-assist, I had the advantage. I was in their territory, and they didn’t even know it. Close. Personal.

  I was dangerous.

  I grinned voraciously.

  Bill looked uneasy. He should be.

  T’alkar showed nothing, of course. Thaelari rarely did. Their bodies stayed still when they were nervous—an unemotive race. A holdover from whatever feline-blooded evolution made them harder to track when hunted.

  But I’d learned to watch for the small things: the shallow breaths, the exact angle of his ears, the delay before each footstep. The subtilities.

  He knew something was wrong.

  His large, spherical eyes swept the clearing—slow, deliberate—slitted pupils scanning the trees intently. The shield they’d set up surrounding the compound glowed blue, pulsing steadily, covering all four sides at ground level.

  But not well enough.

  I’d found this spot when we first landed. A narrow cliff above the treeline. Awkward angle. Dangerous and exposed climb. But worth it—the perfect hiding place. Just enough elevation to clear the shields perimeter. From up here, they were unprotected.

  And I was going to punish them for it.

  I exhaled slowly, lining up my shot. My finger, gently hovering over the trigger.

  I slowly tracked T’alkar, waiting for him to pause—and he did, like a predator scenting the wind. Still. Coiled. Listening with his whole body.

  There it was.

  I squeezed gently—feeling the hair-trigger resist slightly, then break.

  WHAM.

  The bolt of energy exited the rifles muzzle with a blast, the stock kicking back into my shoulder. I loved that feeling.

  The shot was clean. Perfect. The crack of the TR-58 cycling echoed across the valley, startling the once choral birds into a frenzy. Their panicked cries filled the air now—sounding the call of my dominion.

  T’alkar went down hard, one hand to his shoulder, breath hissing through bared teeth. Bill flinched as his best friend crumpled beside him, then staggered back, nearly falling. He darted right, diving behind a downed log. Smart move.

  It was sensible to take out the smart one first. Bill was not the brightest.

  I grinned again. My position was probably compromised now—but not if I moved fast.

  Aiming left, I caught a glimpse of the top-right corner of the computer console powering the shield. That was enough—just the right angle. Just enough to end their biggest advantage.

  Holding my breath, I lined up the shot. I fired—my shoulder jolting with that familiar kick. The second pulse of light struck the console dead-on, right at the corner I'd aimed for. It erupted in a plume of smoke and sparks. The blue barrier of safety vanished instantly.

  That had done it. “You’re clear. Go.” My voice echoed across the comms line to my team.

  A squad of four emerged from the tree line opposite. Moving in sync, they quickstepped into the compound, rushing past Bill’s wooded cover before he could even lift his head to reassess the situation. Still playing dead, T’alkar glanced over—eyes half-lidded, unreadable. For a Thaelari, it was practically theatrical. The flick of an ear, the slow blink and hard bite—pure, wordless disapproval.

  A few moments passed. Some more energy blasts reverberated across the clearing, coming from inside the bunker now. Bill took notice, peaking out from around his log. He was now looking back and forth between the entrance to the simulation base and the direction of my cliff side, trying to spot where the shots came from. Paralyzed in indecision.

  Bad move, mate. I exhaled again and fired a third time. Through the targeting system, I caught the look of shock on his face—eyes wide as he watched the orange trail of light streak toward him and slam into his right shoulder. He dropped to his side with a sharp yelp that echoed across the clearing. The rifle cycled. I took another shot, just for the satisfaction, tagging him in the backside for good measure.

  Another yelp—louder this time. Even on low-energy, these things hurt like hell.

  The simulation crate—our objective—was now hoisted between my teammates as they exited the base. They were doing well, but they needed to move faster.

  I tracked every shadow behind them. Enemies burst from the base with hand phasers, desperate to reclaim their lost bounty. I flicked to semi-auto with my right thumb and tagged them before they could even line up a shot. Too easy.

  My ‘kill’ counter ticked up in the corner of my HUD. I frowned, flicking my eye to the top right. The countdown timer was getting low now. They should hurry the hell up.

  I adjusted my aim again, exhaled.

  And four more student combatants went down in quick succession by my hand.

  “Cadet Varr,” came the dry drawl of one of the instructors on my personal channel. “You ever think about letting someone else take a shot?”

  “Only if they get there first sir.”

  “You had it tuned to setting five—might as well have shot him with a hammer.”

  “Better than dead, sir.”

  He snorted. “Fair enough.”

  A few moments later, the mission timer hit zero. We got the crate into our zone just in time, a solid win. Our team quickly regrouped at the evac point. It took me an extra minute to downclimb the cliff I was on, slow and careful with my footing, but I ran up to join the others just in time.

  “Well done all. Exercise complete.”

  “Computer, end simulation.”

  The system answered with a low confirmation tone. The ground beneath my boots flexed—just slightly—as the Tessereactor disengaged. The forest buckled first: trees fracturing into segmented lattices, bark peeling into translucent thread-lines before dissolving entirely. The air lost its warmth. Gravity rebalanced.

  The bunker deconstructed itself in a blink, stone walls unravelling into clean spatial scaffolding before draining silently into the floor. The scent of soil vanished. The wind died.

  In seconds, the world constructed by the collective knowledge of the Commonwealth was gone—folded back into light, geometry, and silence.

  We stood in the blank Tessereactor: size of a football stadium, just lined panels, ambient light, and the distant echo of our footsteps and laughter. No dirt. No heat. Just the memory of it on our skin.

  The debriefing room was sterile and over-lit. Armor unsealed, sweat clinging to our undersuits, I leaned back in my chair while Commander Rannos—my primary supervisor and closest teacher at the Academy—paced in front of a holoscreen.

  “Cadet Varr, you led with efficiency, precision, and confidence today”.

  I smiled, my eyes catching the others nodding and winking. At the same time, one kicked the back of my chair in a playful glee, smirking. I looked back over my shoulder—Sam owed me a pint later for that, the git! One of my shots saved his ass when he was carrying the crate just now! I winked at him in return, smiling.

  Commander Rannos continued after a brief pause, watching this moment unfold with an air of dismissal.

  “...some might say arrogance Varr.”

  My grin wavered. Sitting upright, my gaze dropped slightly from his eyes. He gave me a hard look. I didn’t deny it and now, felt a bit foolish.

  He continued. “But your team followed orders. The plan was unorthodox, but highly effective. Your shooting was beyond textbook. No friendly injuries. Maximum effectiveness.”

  He now turned to face the group.

  “The rest of you performed well. Solid team effort. The final score speaks for itself. Your strategy was exemplary. The drop Varr got on you was very hard to defend. Better luck next time group B.”

  He then turned the touch-screen computer around, that was resting upon the table in front of him, showing us the performance metrics. Out of ten names, mine lit up first, right at the top.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  I grinned again. The others were laughing, comparing scores with glee.

  But deep down, I just felt good to be on the scoreboard at all.

  “Cadet Varr —stay behind. The rest of you are dismissed.”

  My grin wavered.

  I was in for it now…

  The others filed out, tossing me nods, smirks, shoulder pats. The twisting hand motion, suggestive of getting a pint later. I leaned forward, trying to hide the flush of pride behind a neutral expression.

  Professor Rannos considered me carefully for a moment, then opened with a smile.

  “You’ve got talent Varr. Discipline. A dangerous mind.”

  He crossed his arms.

  Oh damn, here it comes…

  “And the attitude to match. That will either make you a hero—or get you killed.”

  He looked at me hard. And I understood exactly what he meant—this wasn’t a compliment. The truth is I could be reckless sometimes, bordering on the imbecilic. Freeclimbing that cliff was not just hard, it was 20 meters up—it was borderline suicidal. His eyes tried to speak more than words, and for me it landed.

  Another wave of shame came over me.

  He sighed but continued.

  “I have something to go through with you. 0800 tomorrow. My office.”

  I looked at him, then blinked with intrigue.

  “Uhh.. Yes sir, of course. Thank you, sir,”

  As I stepped into the hallway, cadets streamed past, deep in conversation on their way to other classes. A grin tugged at my face. I did well today. I’d earned at least one night off, it was the end of term after all. I’d expected to get chewed out harder, honestly. But the shame still lingered. He was right.

  Maybe I should try taking fewer risks—just once.

  I headed back to my dormitory to shower and change, getting out of this combat armour which reeked to high heaven.

  That night, we hit the bar.

  Hard. Probably a little too hard.

  The Cadet’s Crawl was loud and dim, a favourite haunt on the edge of the Academy’s west ring. Music thudded through the floor and walls, low-end vibrations humming in my bones. Wednesdays were retro nights—Earth tunes passed down from over two centuries ago, all the way back to the 21st.

  A break from the usual light jazz or neuroform quartets.

  I recognized this one.

  “,” by Kiev. Raw. Progressive.

  More my kind of music.

  Drinks were poured generously from the barstaff. The buzz of triumph still clung to my team as we crammed into a booth—laughing, bragging, voices overlapping like static. My shame was washing away with each sip, with each hurried round.

  I’d landed seven hits in the sim. All of them would’ve dropped live targets. One was a precision strike between armor plates. I was buzzing now.

  Across the table, Cadet T’alkar sat stiffly, clearly bruised. He met my gaze with that silent, exacting disapproval only a Thaelari could manage—still and sharp, like judgment wrapped in stone. His eyes, wide and elliptical, caught the light like burnished glass—unblinking, precise. No heat. Just quiet calculation.

  Bill noticed. His eyes flicking between us smiling and almost giggling.

  Then he laughed and threw a wide arm around T’alkar’s shoulder, jostling him hard enough to spill part of his drink across the table. T’alkar’s gaze broke as his head dipped slightly forward under the weight of the impact.

  “Cheer up, ya miserable git,” Bill said, still grinning. So did I. I didn’t think it was possible for T’alkar to look less amused—but somehow, he managed it.

  We were loud. Celebratory. Victorious.

  Maybe I said too much. I was the best after all.

  Maybe I laughed too loud.

  Maybe I didn’t like the guy’s attitude behind me when I slammed my empty glass on the table.

  Whatever happened, it was fast.

  He shoved me. I shoved back.

  Words were thrown. Then a fist.

  He was bigger. Sloppier. Probably from Sciences.

  Didn’t matter. I was well oiled now, slipping into recklessness once again.

  I landed a solid jab to the stomach. He fell back against the table, swung his fist and clipped my jaw. Seeing the commotion, my friend Sam tackled him hard from the side. We all went down in a pile of chairs continuing onto the floor, drinks flying. I managed to get on top of him, getting the advantage. Security was called. The music never stopped playing.

  They pulled us apart. Warnings were issued. This was not my first time getting chewed out by these guys, and they looked at me with distain. My lip was bleeding. My pride stung worse. But not as bad as the other guy. He was out cold.

  We laughed it off outside. But my anger lingered, as did the shame.

  A shadow of something I didn’t fully understand yet.

  Something boiling just beneath the surface.

  Morning. 0759. It took me a few more minutes than usual to get ready. I almost had to jog to get here on time. Standing outside Professor Rannos’ office, I was nursing a cup of bitter synth-caf and a dull hangover. My ribs ached. My knuckles stung.

  But it was worth it, this was finals week. Only one more year and I could get fully deployed. Get away from this place.

  Imagine.

  Being amongst the stars....

  The door beeped and opened with a swoosh, breaking this short daydream.

  Sitting down, he didn’t look up right away. He let me sit in silence for a minute.

  Finally, he spoke. Looking up and seeing my busted lip.

  “Get into a fight last night?”

  I didn’t answer. And now, I expected the worst.

  He sighed. I could tell he was angrier this time—but honestly, there was nothing he could say to make me feel worse than I already did.

  “You need to be careful cadet. The Commonwealth does not condone that attitude. You are meant to the example. Don’t be so foolish and throw away what you have been working towards. You’re not just representing Earth. You’re Vanguard now.”

  I met his eyes. “Yes sir, sorry sir”. He was completely right. It was foolish, I felt the familiar wave of shame and regret wash over me once again. So much so, that I didn’t catch the end of his sentence...

  He sighed, but his gaze softened slightly. Considering me carefully.

  “Not to worry, I am now free of my responsibilities for you. Your qualified cadet.”

  He slid his H-Interface across the desk—a standard-issue communication and computational device used throughout the Commonwealth. The message display rotated to face me.

  “With distinction.”

  For a few moments I looked at the H-Interface. Blinking in confusion, my mouth began to gape.

  The orders, the header. My name stamped at the top.

  This was not an Academy letter. This was from Helion Commonwealth Vanguard!

  Wait... “Is this...?”

  “Your first assignment cadet. You’ve been shortlisted. There was a committee watching that Tessereactor sim yesterday. Your top effort must have got noticed”.

  I sank back into my chair, eyes widening.

  “There’s a tactical unit forming. Elite. High-priority. You’ve been selected early.”

  My head spun. And this time not from the hangover.

  “Active duty? Already?” I was exasperated. ”But Sir, I have only completed three years of training, and I have not even studied...”

  He interrupted me with a raised hand and closed eyes. That of a seasoned commanding officer.

  “They’re inbound to Earth in two days. From the Reach.”

  He leaned in.

  “If you want it.”

  I blinked.

  The Reach wasn’t just a waypoint.

  It was the edge of everything I knew.

  And once—up until that fateful year in 2043—it had been the edge of everything humanity knew.

  Before the Architects Schematic was discovered at CERN.

  The truth, hidden in graviton resonance—coded into every atom—a secret etched into the spine of the universe itself.

  Before Fold technology cracked the fabric of all relativistic understanding.

  Before gravity bent like paper, and the stars came closer than anyone was ready for.

  “You’re lucky. You’re going to be serving under Commander Ka’Rina Zeth.”

  The name meant nothing.

  He caught my expression and frowned slightly.

  “You both have something in common. That exercise you did yesterday, and the others from the past few weeks. You both got the highest scores we probably ever had Cadet.”

  He now had my full attention. The headache from the night before vanished. So did the nausea.

  “Varr,” he said, his tone shifting, “you should be warned. She’s not like anyone I’ve ever trained. One of the best students I ever had—but always unorthodox. Violent, even when it wasn’t necessary. I’m not sure how she made it into command ranks. She came up hard. And like you, got into more fights than evaluations.”

  He shifted in his seat, glanced toward the door, then looked me dead in the eye.

  “She was difficult. Had everything it took to be a top-tier security officer. But she never worked well with others. Always pushed the edge. Always pushed people.”

  He paused.

  “She served in the Viren War. Frontline Vanguard deployments—reconnaissance, close-contact breach teams. The kind of missions that get buried. Whatever she was before, the war made it permanent.”

  He leaned back.

  I sat there, a mix of curiosity and unease tightening in my chest.

  She didn’t sound like a commander. She sounded like an animal.

  Even in peacetime, she sounded like someone the Helion Commonwealth kept just dangerous enough to point at the right target.

  “Rumor is—she didn’t apply for her current position. She was recently headhunted. By the top.”

  He meant Helion Interstellar Command. Maybe higher.

  “Just like you cadet”, he said with an open smile.

  I blinked, but it finally hit me. This softened my mild unease, back to a feeling of pure and utter excitement. I smiled wide back. I was going. This was real.

  “She’s heading up a new survival-combat unit. Experimental protocols. Black-flag clearance. Quiet work—off-book. The kind of thing the Commonwealth never admits to.”

  “With your long-range aptitude, you might be exactly what they’re after Cadet!”.

  I nodded slowly, almost like my neck had a spring. I was flabbergasted.

  I had absolutely no idea what to say.

  “I heard that she does not recruit often, and it’s hard to get in. No one’s sure what the selection process even looks like. But it’s here in writing, the opportunity to try if you want it?”

  My mouth was dry.

  Was this real?

  After a childhood of empty rooms and closed doors, I’d been chosen.

  Not overlooked. Not abandoned. Actually chosen.

  “Of course Sir! What do I need to do?”

  “Good lad. Pack your bag Cadet. Say your goodbyes over the next couple of days.”

  “And pray she sees something in you.”

  Rannos was always my favourite professor, right from the start. A legend in Vanguard security, once. This was a special moment. He stood and offered his hand. His gaze held for a moment, both with pride. But also I noticed, an edge of concern. A slight narrowing in the corners of his eyes.

  But his smile rose after a moment.

  “Good luck, Cadet. You’ve earned it. I’m proud of you”

  I stood, took it. “Thank you, sir, for everything.”

  He was right. I damn well earned this.

  After everything I had worked towards where I came from.

  I was finally here.

  Two days. Pack my bags. Say my goodbyes.

  Then the Resolute.

  I didn’t know it yet—but the second I stepped onto that ship, I was already dead.