• Chapter 1

    William gasped. His emerald eyes snapped open, revealing the dark interior of his room. The thin sheets and his fire red hair clung to his half naked body from cold sweat.
    It was the dream again.
    He glanced at the chronometer near his bed. The glowing blue display shone three a.m. from its silver dome. He got up anyway, unable to return to slumber. He threw back the thick curtains that hid the sliding crystalline door to the balcony beyond. The large moon of Exodus flooded his room with eerie green light. William gazed at the cityscape below him, glistening with the roving lights of traffic and the stationary lights of homes and businesses that never slept.
    Towering metal behemoths as far as the eye could see reached for the night sky like finger pointing toward a creator, the same as they have been for the five years he had called this planet home. At a glance, it was a peaceful metropolis.
    William knew, however, how ugly it could really get.
    “Lights,” he said his voice husky from lack of use. He shut the curtains as warm yellow light spread through the plain room. The one abstract painting that came with the apartment was the only decoration on the white walls. William walked toward the cloned wood dresser across from his bed, and activated the small black entertainment device. Upon command, a two dimensional holographic screen materialized above the box, immediately receiving from the city’s news station. An Elven brunette appeared on the screen, droning on about events on other planets. William didn’t bother listening. Keeping this planet safe was work enough. He didn’t need an extra burden.
    “In other news,” she went on, “Today marks the beginning of the Hierarchy’s security plan for the galaxy, as hundreds of Dreadnought and Saber class battleships left Marian space less than an hour ago. Though some are veterans of the Fayrie Crisis several years ago, most of these vessels are fresh of the line in order to provide, as Head Chairman Donok put it, ‘one full fleet for each planet.’ The Head Chairman spoke at the send off.
    The Elf was replaced with a video of the Marian space port. Humans, Elves, and Furri sat before a podium where the wolf-Furri Donok waved his paws at the crowd, flashing his toothy grin at the hungry cameras.
    He was the only politician William almost trusted. His illustrious military career, dating back to the Apocalypse War two hundred years ago, made him a hero of the people. It was him most of the galaxy turned to when the Fayries attacked eight years ago, and with the recent terrorist attacks from the group known as the Pride, people looked to him for a resolution. This was his response.
    “My thanks,” he said, with a growling voice, “Goes to those who volunteered to risk their lives for others they have never met. I wish those going out good luck on their jobs, and the security forces that have held the line until now. I know it’s been rough, but now I believe we will see better, safer times.”
    William gave up hoping to hear gratitude long ago. He was a Shadow, and to the public, he didn’t exist. During the Fayrie Crisis, they were the Hierarchy’s most effective weapons, now in this unsteady time of peace; they are the Hierarchy’s secret police.
    The brunette rematerialized, “The Chairman seems certain that the fleets reinforcing planetary defenses will put an end to pirate raids and the imminent threat of the Pride terrorism, but the effectiveness of the new measures have yet to be determined. The ships are scheduled to arrive at their planets within the week.”
    The hologram sputtered and died. The lights flickered as a tremor rippled through the room. William froze.
    It felt too familiar.
    He shot up from his bed and threw back the curtain. He thought he saw a smudge on the horizon.
    “Light,” he called urgently. The room grew dark again. William stepped back in horror as smoke billowed through the night sky, like a ragged gash across the picture of peace and tranquility he saw mere minutes before. Sirens wailed in the distance to respond to the flames William could only see whispers of.
    ‘This wasn’t happening,’ he thought.
    He rushed to his closet and pulled out some clothes. He looked over his shoulder. “Call David,” he said to the communication terminal on his dresser. He and his older brother, David, had been adopted into the Shadow organization. Knowing nothing of their parents, their lives revolved around the teachings their guild master, Corella Vice. She taught them the art of a predator, reading their targets emotions, predicting their movements, remaining unseen until they were ready to strike, and making sure their prey couldn’t strike back. Both of them learned quickly, so when the Fayrie Crisis cut their training short, they adapted quickly to being full-fledged operatives. They were fresh then, unaccustomed to taking a life, or saving one, but they stuck together. Today, they were the best in the galaxy.
    An automated message played as William Shrugged on his black denim jacket. Déjà vu mingled with fear played on his mind. “Call his mobile,” he called back at the device. He withdrew his firearm from the drawer in his nightstand, hoping for the moment he would wake up, and this would all be over. He opened the pistol, exposing the crystal shimmering in the firing chamber. He had plenty of ammo left. Another automated message played, saying the number was unavailable.
    William bolted out of the room as if being chased by the monster of his dreams. He heard his holoviewer sputter back to life as he left. The female voice utter the words he had heard time and time again, and hoped would never make it beyond his subconscious mind:
    “This just in, the Central Government Building on the planed Exodus was the target of a suicide bombing early their morning, killing seven people, including the Hierarchy Ambassador for Exodus, Marcus Tranus, and wounding thirty others. The suicide bomber is believed to be David Jackson, a special operations agent stationed on Exodus.”

    The one advantage to the decreasing number of land-based vehicles was the removal of speed limits. William’s silver motorcycle screamed through the aging streets of Exodus. Nitrous oxide pumped through the engine as William coaxed it faster. He didn’t slow down until the massive dome of the Central Government Building from the walls of ascending structures. The rectangular forms of fire suppressant vehicles floated like balloons above the smoke lazily billowing from the jagged hole near the top of the dome.
    William was off his motorcycle before it screeched to a rest at the foot of the flight of stairs to the main entrance. He ran up the stairs three at a time until he faced the mob of fast acting reporters, who crowded around the entrance like a pack of predators to a carcass. William pushed his way through the mass of beings, receiving a number of complaints as he passed. He saw the two security officers holding back the crowd. Their helmets blocked their faces, but he could tell they were a bit bewildered by the recording devices being shoved at them. He was thankful he didn’t have a uniform. To the public he was just a nineteen year old student, though a closer look would reveal the firearm under his jacket.
    William finally reached the front of the crowd. He rolled back his left sleeve revealing the symbol of his occupation, with more power than any badge: a tattoo of a phoenix near his wrist. He showed it to the guard, who immediately let him pass, to the great dismay of the throng of anxious reporters.
    William always thought the building was too white. Everything from the floor to the ceiling seemed to give an incandescent glow, save for the few decorations some of the personnel had put up.
    The blood on the floor and walls stood out. William closed his eyes, shuddering. His nightmare had come true. The carnage in the lobby confirmed it.
    He opened his eyes again as his strength returned. He carefully navigated through the forensic scientists towards the reception table, where two officers stood with datapads in their hands.
    “Excuse me,” William called out. The two guards looked up at the same time. William showed them his tattoo, and asked, “Mind telling me what happened here?”
    One of them was about to answer, when a familiar voice said, “It’s alright, sergeant, I’ll fill him in.”
    The double doors beyond the front desk had opened to a willowy figure clad in a gold-trimmed, black trench coat and dark pants. William recognized the caramel face and snow white hair that fell past her shoulders.
    “Mikayla Maverick?” he said, surprised to see his old training partner.
    “William Jackson,” Mikayla answered in reply, “It’s been a while. I’m sorry that we had to reunite under these circumstances.”
    “So am I,” he sighed, “So what happened?”
    “Shadow HQ received an audio transmission from this building and two-fifty this morning. They heard David’s voice saying he was going to blow up the Ambassador, and the transmission was cut fifteen minutes later. When security forces arrived, this is what they found.”
    “That doesn’t sound good,” William stated, “So why did they call you?”
    “I was the closest Shadow Alpha in the quadrant. I’ll be overseeing the case.”
    “Anything pointing to David not doing it?” William asked.
    “Unfortunately nothing yet, we haven’t even recovered a body.”
    “How did he supposedly do it?” William asked
    “What the scientists are telling me now is THC,” Mikayla replied.
    “Triggered human combustion?” William asked bewildered, “Isn’t that a bit extreme?”
    “And uncommon,” Mikayla added, “We had the technology for a while, but it’s been unused for so long I don’t think anyone could find it if they wanted to.”
    “Maybe the Pride got their hands on it,” William said.
    “It’s possible, but they’d have to capture David in order to use it. Then there are the other victims. All of the wounded have been attacked by some type of blade weapon.”
    William smiled grimly. “It was a katana,” William said, “David was never one to use guns. Said they didn’t require skill or courage to use.”
    “Well, he definitely had skill.” She turned back to the doors, “Let me take you to the scene.”
    The two traversed the labyrinth of hallways, conference rooms, offices, and stairs to the point of origin. William noticed the ominous trail of blood and dark gashes in the plastic and metal walls, exposing once complex circuitry spraying sparks in their path. Several of the soft glow lights flickered as they approached a large metal door, propped open by a stand. Beyond it, the light dimmed as darker yellower light revealed the pipe lined walkways of the maintenance section of the building.
    “What was the Chairman doing here?” William asked.
    “Maybe he was running,” Mikayla said, “I’m still trying to solve that puzzle.”
    “Need any help?” William asked.
    “Sorry, but officially you can’t,” she said, “Right now, David is suspected of treason, and you’re his brother.”
    “So I’m suspected as an accomplice,” he said.
    “By those who don’t know you and David, yes,” she said, “It wouldn’t be wise to have you help.”
    “So why did you bring me here?”
    “Because, unofficially, I want your help. You’re David’s brother and know him better than anyone. Besides, I don’t think Corella will mind too much if I ask for your help.”
    William for the first time that morning couldn’t help but smile. “I’m glad you’re on this case, Mikayla.” They continued through the dark narrow walkway to the damaged portion of the dome. Steam hissed from ruptured pipes along the way, temporarily blinding William, who didn’t have a visor like Mikayla had. Finally, the steam lessened, and the temperature dropped as the two finally saw the night sky through the opening in the roof.
    “It looks a whole lot bigger from here, doesn’t it,” Mikayla noted. They both stopped at the scene of the explosion. It looked like a thirty foot wrecking ball was dropped into this part of the walkway, for the pipes were warped and broken. White suits moved on both sides and below the broken walkway, collecting fragments of metal, completely oblivious of the smell of hot metal and burning rubber that chocked William.
    “Was there anyone here with the Ambassador besides David?” William asked.
    “The only body we’ve found is the Ambassador’s,” Mikayla replied.
    “So that means either there was someone who escaped that was protecting the Ambassador,” William started.
    “Or Ambassador Tranus, held his own against a Shadow Alpha,” Mikayla finished.
    “Tranus seemed a bit too chunky to keep up with David,” William said.
    “I’ll look up the building’s data base for everyone working here at the time. Meanwhile, I’ll send someone to check out David’s apartment.”
    “None of this seems to be working in David’s favor,” William said.
    “Tell me about it,” Mikayla replied, “I’ve got a bomb that shouldn’t have made it this far in the building, and a missing Shadow who called just before the explosion. Unless we find something major in his apartment, this is going to be an open and shut case.”
    “Then I suppose I’d better check his apartment,” William said. He walked back through the steam-filled walkway toward the exit. If he wasn’t a part of this investigation officially, he’d need to be quick before the official force arrived.