I have to fight that war on two fronts, Severan thought. My son on one side, my operative on another. Somewhere in the middle, we’ll flank them and conclude our business. But until then, I need to be patient. Practice what I’ve pushed for so long.
He closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath. It was time to meditate.
***
Renz returned to his ship, heading directly for his quarters. He poured himself a drink before checking the schedule. They would be able to leave the system in less than two hours. He had logistics ensure they were supplied for a three week run. Without knowing the precise nature of their work, he had to be prepared for anything.
Kivda Ziol entered the room without knocking. The soldier had been his confidant, one of the only people he had considered an actual friend. Unlike the others he needed to contend with, Kivda never suggested he assassinate his father. In fact, he insisted on patience. The old man would die eventually.
Best to enjoy your time without the responsibility. Consolidate your power. Be prepared.
Renz didn’t like it, but it rang true.
Kivda stood a good two inches taller than him with flaming red hair and the lightest blue eyes he’d ever seen. Muscular, powerfully built, and robust, he represented the absolute highest standard of military soldier. He rose through the ranks with Renz, always having his back, building his reputation.
Together we rise. Kivda always looked to the future. He proved far more forward-thinking, working every situation five to ten moves ahead. In many ways, Renz thought his father would’ve preferred Kivda as a son. The man never acted impulsively and had an unnerving control of his emotions.
“I understand we’re heading out soon,” Kivda said.
“You don’t knock?” Renz asked. He didn’t mean to sound testy, to come off as annoyed. It just came out. Which is why I envy him, I suppose.
“I thought we were beyond that.” Kivda leaned against the wall. “Where are we going?”
“A random planet in the middle of nowhere. We’re gathering data; some artifact. I don’t know. A fool’s errand for my father.”
Kivda clicked his tongue. “That man doesn’t send people out on fool’s errands. He’s a methodical thinker. If he’s committing you and this ship to this mission, it matters. You have no idea what for?”
Renz weighed whether or not he should reveal the reason. He didn’t know if it was wise. Drawing attention to a man like the prophet ran risks. The kind he didn’t want to be responsible for. Though Kivda might never join such a crusade, telling him about it brought up a particular weakness in their culture.
One that should be hidden until it could be squashed entirely.
My friend isn’t much good to me if I keep him in the dark.
“You’re hesitating,” Kivda said. “What’re you afraid of?”
“Talking about a taboo subject.” Renz slammed his drink, refilling the glass. He thought to offer his guest some but changed his mind at the last moment. “I don’t know if it’s appropriate to even talk about.”
“This ship has two hundred people aboard,” Kivda replied. “They’re going to find out when we get there. Why not tell me now so I can assist you with planning? With thinking about the situation?” He tilted his head. “Or did your father say something that makes you not trust me suddenly?”
“Why would you even suggest that?”
“Because before you left, you weren’t acting like this. And now…”
“I’d just rather be out crushing our enemies.”
“Some missions provide greater victories,” Kivda said. “So please. Tell me what you know.”
Renz finished his next drink, peering into the empty glass. He considered his next words carefully. Some of what he had to say could be considered blasphemous. The Word they lived by, the concept they must dominate the galaxy, came down from texts left by their ancestors. His father was said to reinforce that mindset.
The church held moderate control over society prior to the introduction of the Word. Once their culture embraced their destiny, zeal drove them on. Interpretation of the documentation his father presented led to enhanced understanding of their obligation to the universe.
This Prophet character somehow threatened the balance… somehow.
“Alright then.” Renz gestured to a chair. “Sit.” He explained the situation about the information from their ancestors, the writings that may or may not be on that distant world they were being sent to. He further mentioned that his father expressed concerns about it, genuine worry. “I don’t understand why it matters. Or how this Prophet person is a threat.”
“What I’m about to say,” Kivda said, “must remain in this room. We cannot discuss it with others present. Is that understood?”
“I’ve already told you more than I should have,” Renz replied. “So yes, this is a confidential conversation.”
“In that case, think about this. Some of us are too well educated to follow our religion blindly. Faith relies on no one demanding proof. Our priests talk about how it is a personal decision and you have to find it on your own. But that’s not what they actually mean. They want us to believe their word absolutely. So they offer us what we want most.
“Doctrines bolstering our superiority, making it sound like we are the masters of everything we encounter. It creates a singular focus on our sworn duty to dominate the galaxy. To crush our enemies. And while I do not doubt we have the right, you have to wonder why the priests mind someone speaking against them.”
“What do you mean? It’s blasphemy.”
“Faith must have the endurance to withstand criticism,” Kivda said, “or else it isn’t real at all. You see?”
“You’re suggesting
