After Jason entered, his father telekinetically closed the door with a wave of his hand.
“What do we know?” Jason asked.
“Not enough. I’ve already been over the situation with everyone here, and we’ve agreed you’re the right person to bring in—especially considering that message you sent me.” The cerulean glow from his father’s bioluminescent irises stood out across the room in the dim light, the vibrant blue contrasting the shade of chestnut hair he’d passed down to Jason and his twin sister.
“It was almost like a flashback of my vision from the nexus. But it’s never resurfaced like that before.”
“A darkness on the horizon.” His father exchanged a significant glance with the others.
“Yeah.” Jason slowly closed the distance to the Agents gathered around the desk. He’d gotten used to his parents holding the two foremost leadership roles in the TSS, with their longtime friends occupying positions as Division Heads. The inner circle, responsible for the safety of the Taran Empire. Jason had had to earn his place as a trusted Agent among them, regardless of his pedigree. He took the position seriously, and he knew there were few circumstances that would necessitate an urgent meeting like this. He braced for the worst.
“It’s too soon to say definitively if your experience is connected to the salvage hauler attack,” his father continued. “What we have been able to establish is that the ship shouldn’t have been out where it was.”
“And there were no other ships in the area, which makes it more complicated.” His mother, Saera Alexri, was uncharacteristically solemn, with a tightness around her jade eyes, also casting a natural glow to evidence her advanced Gifts. In her role as Lead Agent, she’d always maintained grace and levity, even when faced with dire situations. For her to look this concerned set Jason even more on edge.
“No clues?” Jason asked. “I heard something about a survivor.”
“Yes, there is one,” his father replied. He leaned against his desk, crossing his toned arms. “And his story would seem far-fetched if he hadn’t also delivered proof.”
“A merchant ship picked up his escape pod from the salvage hauler Andvari,” explained Michael Andres, the lead trainer for the Primus Elite Division in which Jason had studied. He was one of Jason’s parents’ oldest friends, and his position as their next-in-line leader in the TSS had been secured through his loyal service in the war and the transition years that followed. “The response was initially handled by the Tararian Guard, but they’ve admitted they’re out of their depth on this matter.”
“For only the second time ever, to my recollection,” Wil quipped.
Ian Mandren and Ethan Samlier—the Division Leads for the Sacon and Trion Agent classes, respectively—smirked at the comment. They never missed an opportunity to play up the TSS’ rivalry with the Guard.
Appreciative his father was trying to ease the tension, Jason cracked a smile. He’d been the Agent assigned to respond to that previous call for help, and it had been deeply satisfying to watch the Guard soldiers gawk at his open use of telekinesis.
Michael didn’t seem to share their amusement. No surprise there; he was always focused and serious when there was a task at hand. Still, when Michael worried, everyone worried. And right now, he looked more terrified than Jason had ever seen him.
“There’s more data, but this image is most illustrative.” Michael activated the holoprojector integrated into the High Commander’s desk, displaying a three-dimensional rendering of…
Jason squinted at the image as he tried to figure out what it was.
The tangle of looping lines had no clear point of origin, snaking across the image and fading into the expanse beyond. A dense knot at the center appeared to be gripping something. Upon closer inspection, Jason was able to make out the form of a vessel.
“Holy shit! Is that the salvage ship?”
The realization gave a new sense of scale to the image. The vessel had to be at least two or three hundred meters in length, which meant the ethereal tentacle-like web around it stretched for kilometers in every direction.
“What is this?” Jason asked, almost breathless. This isn’t anything like what I saw in my vision.
“That’s what we need to figure out,” Saera replied. “The image was captured under unusual circumstances. For simplicity’s sake, it’s a transdimensional snapshot—showing a structure that extends beyond what we know as spacetime reality.”
“It’s foking massive. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Michael shook his head. Jason always wondered how Michael had been able to adopt the curses used by native-born Tarans rather than those he’d grown up with on Earth. Maybe with the benefit of time, it’d rub off on him, too.
Right now, though, Jason was finding it difficult to choose the right words in any language. He looked around incredulously at the solemn faces in the room. “A transdimensional space kraken? This is a joke, right?”
His parents and Michael grunted, having spent enough time on Earth to get the reference, while the two other Agents’ brows furrowed slightly.
“I wish it was a hoax,” his father said. “Believe me, when this landed on my desk this afternoon, I wanted to disregard it. But I’ve been over everything, and the image is genuine. I just wish I knew how.”
Jason nodded. This wasn’t the time for jests, even though that was his preferred coping mechanism. He was a trusted member of his parents’ advisory circle, and he needed to demonstrate that he held that status because of competency rather
