Stories and Book Talk

Zev, Saul, and Noah spent three days orienting the new recruits to their team. Training was brutal; they pushed their new teammates to their physical limits, trying to mitigate weaknesses before the next mission. It was grueling work, and Zev was grateful for a moment of respite when he finally secured an evening of downtime on a Friday. Dressed in a T-shirt and simple khakis, he left his quarters for the training building.

On the third floor of the twenty-story facility, Zev had secured access to a simulation room designated for squad leaders. He had maintained his privileges there since earning the rank to lead Team One¹. The room, situated at the far end of a sterile, reinforced hallway, was labeled 6202. Zev pressed his thumb to the haptic scanner; the pneumatic lock hissed and clicked open. He stepped into the darkness of 6202 and let the door seal behind him.

The overhead arrays flickered to life, bathing the room in a cool blue hue. “Biometrics confirmed. Welcome back, Staff Sergeant Mablevi,” a synthesized, dry voice intoned. “Awaiting command parameters. Shall I initialize the previous simulation?”

“Negative, 6202²,” Zev said. “Prioritize the combat armor update logs. Has any external entity accessed the patches I uploaded to the logic stream?”

“No, your data account remains secure. There was a level two inquiry from the Santi Corp armor division,” 6202 answered. “The message is flagged for review. Projection ready.”

Zev crossed to a wide tactical worktable on the left. A translucent glass screen illuminated the wall, flickering with prioritized messages. Following his narrow escape from the ghost wraith, the sensation of its talons nearly severing his head still burned in his mind, and he had submitted specialized schematics. He needed to reinforce the neck seal to prevent a repeat of that tactical failure.

The prompt from Santi Corp was a direct query: Does the revised prototype from Armor Designer Dahlia Taj satisfy your requirements?

Zev scrutinized the blueprints attached to the message. He exhaled a sharp, impatient breath as he typed a response.

“The Taj schematic is aesthetically impressive but tactically flawed. The neck joint is a high-friction zone, and the suggested ribbed material is a liability to mobility. Swap for the low-friction composite I specified in my original upload. Ensure the helmet-to-chest interface is a vacuum seal. My design prioritizes range of motion. Determine how many Guardian lives you’re willing to trade for a design choice.”

A faint static hiss, 6202’s version of a sigh, vibrated through the room’s speakers as Zev sent the transmission.

“Problem, 6202?” Zev asked.

“Metaphorical observation: you catch more flies with honey,” 6202 noted. “Bluntness is a poor motivator for civilian engineering teams, Squad Leader.”

“I don’t need their affection,” Zev replied. “And your logic is faulty. Do you know how uncomfortable it would be to have honey slathered on you and flies stuck to your skin? Forget the flies, bees will sting you to death to reclaim the honey you slather on to catch flies. It’s an inefficient strategy.”

“Stress levels are elevated, Staff Sergeant,” 6202 observed. “Your baseline is increasingly aggressive.”

“It’s my default mood these days,” Zev corrected, stretching his arms above his head until his joints popped. “Initialize the combat telemetry from the nineteenth battle. I need to recalibrate the squad’s performance metrics. The new recruits are an operational liability. Saul, Noah, and I will have to compensate for their lack of field experience.”

“Understood,” 6202 replied, replacing the messages with a high-definition tactical overlay.

The data pulsed with battle stats harvested from the proprietary subroutines Zev had integrated into his helmet. While he kept his technical aptitude hidden from the Santi Corp engineers and Guild leaders, he ensured his own hardware was optimized to improve his combat skills.

Zev spent the next two hours analyzing simulated engagements, identifying the exact maneuvers needed to cover his teammates’ blind spots. They needed to survive their twentieth battle to secure their status as Team One. Only then would they be visible to Strike Force Command.

****

Dalia Taj arrived at Swala Force under the cover of night. Her guard, Lulu, was resourceful and had managed to secure a discreet residence within the Oasis.

“What’s our cover story?” Dalia asked, carrying a black case containing the pressurized tubes of her nanites into the living room of the simple cottage. The residence featured three bedrooms, a kitchen, and a small sitting area. Lulu performed a tactical sweep to ensure the place was vacant while Dalia set her case on the coffee table.

“I have classified our presence as a Santi Corp armor division exploratory trip,” Lulu said. “The housing master believes we’re here to enhance the protective gear the Guardians use.”

“Efficient,” Dalia nodded. The door opened, and two men from Lulu’s detail carried Hansa³ inside. She gestured toward the spare bedroom. “Put him in there and administer the waking agent. Remove any sharp objects from his vicinity. He won’t be pleased with how I got him here.”

Lulu sighed, leading the men to the bedroom. Dalia watched from the hallway as Lulu took a haptic injection pen and pressed it against Hansa’s left arm. It hissed. They stepped back, watching as Hansa roused from the chemically induced stupor Dalia’s dart had caused.

Hansa sat up with a harsh shout, his eyes wide as he scanned the unfamiliar room. His gaze finally sharpened on Lulu, and he scowled.

“Where am I? Who are you? Where is she?”

Lulu signaled the two guards to exit, giving Dalia a meaningful look as she stepped into the hallway.

Dalia exhaled and entered the room with a practiced, neutral smile. “How angry are you?”

Hansa glared at her, his fingers curling into fists. He shifted his feet to the floor, still dressed in the clothes he’d worn when she darted him.

“What is wrong with you?” Hansa asked. “This is kidnapping by any legal standard.”

“I’m aware,” Dalia said, crossing her arms. “You could report it to the Oasis leadership, but I suspect you won’t. We are here to meet your contact. My father’s political rivals have spent months suppressing my research, and I won’t allow this breakthrough to be buried. I don’t believe you’ll risk reporting my misdeeds and losing your chance to advance your career.”

“I’m so frustrated with you that I can barely find the words, Elderon’s daughter,” Hansa said. “Your life is a minefield. I’m beginning to wonder why I thought you could help my career.”

“I can,” Dalia said. “It just requires unconventional methods to bypass the politics.”

Hansa remained silent for a moment. “I have no change of clothes.”

“Lulu will handle the logistics,” Dalia said. “Now, remember, we are here as consultants for the armor division. We have arrived to fulfill their requirements. No one will look at us twice as long as we maintain that narrative.”

Hansa frowned. “What do we tell Kitonyi?”

“The truth,” Dalia said, her gaze narrowing with clinical focus. “We need the nanites to function in a live environment. It’s your job to convince him to grant us access to the Guardian we saw in the footage, without getting us evicted in the first hour.”

“Wonderful.” Hansa lay back on the bed with a heavy sigh. “I dislike you intensely, Dalia Taj.”

“Join the queue,” Dalia said. “Rest for now while Lulu tracks down Mr. Kitonyi.”

“You should know that the man you’re casually calling ‘Mr. Kitonyi’ is a Major in the Guild,” Hansa noted. “He served in Sokwe Recon until an injury forced him into a training role. He opted for this post to provide stability for his family. Do not offend him.”

“Noted,” Dalia said, turning to leave.

“Do we get fed?” Hansa asked. “I won’t settle for anything less than grilled chicken.”

“Fates, you’re high maintenance for a hostage,” Dalia said as she closed the door. She met Lulu’s gaze in the hallway. Lulu nodded and hurried out to secure provisions and Major Kitonyi’s whereabouts.

Dalia moved to the living room and sat in an armchair, staring at the dark crate on the coffee table. She truly hoped her gamble would pay off.

*****

The next morning, after his evening session with 6202, Zev dressed for training with Team One, but Saul and Noah intercepted him as he exited the mess hall.

“Instructor Kitonyi wants us on the twentieth floor,” Noah said. “He said not to worry about the recruits; Captain Hunter⁴ is taking over their drill according to your optimization notes.”

“Okay,” Zev said, frowning. He met Saul’s gaze.

Instead of heading to the grounds, they pivoted toward the training facility.

“What’s on twenty?” Saul asked as the elevator ascended. “I’ve never had clearance for that level.”

“Hunter says it’s Research and Development,” Noah replied. “I asked him this morning. What do you think Kitonyi wants with us there?”

“Harvesting our blood for some devious experiment to decapitate ghost wraiths,” Saul said, his dramatic tone making Zev smirk and Noah laugh.

“Who wants your blood? All you eat are mangoes smothered in chili,” Noah teased.

“At the very least, my blood is potent and loaded with the fire of a thousand peppers,” Saul said with a satisfied nod. He leaned against the wall, glancing at Zev. “You submitted that armor upgrade, didn’t you? Think this is related?

“I don’t know,” Zev said, sliding his hands into his pockets as he watched the floor numbers rise. “They’ve never engaged me directly. They usually just implement the patches I send in. Maybe I was too blunt this time.”

“You do tend to get salty when the tech isn’t optimal,” Noah pointed out.

Zev ignored the ribbing, letting out a silent breath as the elevator doors hissed open.

Zev removed his hands from his pockets as they stepped out. Instructor Kitonyi was waiting in an elegant reception area. Comfortable couches lined the walls, and a prominent Santi Corp logo hung behind the reception desk. A young woman was working at her workstation, her attention never wavering from the screen.

The hall beyond was pristine, resembling a corporate headquarters rather than a military post.

“Instructor Kitonyi,” Noah said. “What is this place?”

“Welcome to R&D,” Kitonyi said. “Follow me. I have a new project for the three of you. It will get you into the field faster and hopefully earn you that final chevron. If you complete this assignment, you’ll have a good chance to get where you want to go.”

“What’s the mission?” Saul asked.

They followed Kitonyi past sealed doors labeled with color-coded locks rather than numbers; a serious security measure to conceal the researchers’ identities.

Kitonyi stopped at a door marked with a white block. He pressed his thumb to the sensor, and the door hissed open.

“Inside,” Kitonyi urged.

Zev stilled as he entered. Three people sat at a worktable by the far wall: two women and a man in a white lab coat.

A modified simulation dome sat in the center of the room, reinforced with heavy energy barriers.

Zev’s gaze shifted to the younger woman. She looked hauntingly familiar. He frowned as he took in her face, and then suddenly an image of the Elderon⁵ taking his oath on live screen at the police station five years ago filled his mind. And he suddenly realized that the young woman standing next to the man in the white coat was the Elderon’s daughter, Dalia Taj.

The trio approached them.

“I’ve brought the Squad Leader of Team One and his sergeants,” Kitonyi said. “They can provide the tactical simulation you require.”

“Perfect,” Dalia said, stepping toward Zev with an expression of sharp interest. “Staff Sergeant Mablevi, I need to see your sword work. Specifically, I need you to deliver a payload into a ghost wraith. Can you execute?”

Zev scowled at her challenging tone. “Is the payload worth the risk?”

“I believe it is,” Dalia said. “But I need to confirm your efficiency first.”

Zev looked at Kitonyi. The Major smiled and gave a slight nod. Zev recalled Kitonyi’s words, ‘If you can complete this assignment, you’ll have a good chance to get where you want to go.’

Oh, Zev’s gaze returned to Dalia Taj. The Elderon’s daughter⁶ was a political powerhouse; if helping her could secure his spot in the Strike Force, he would play the part.

“I’m at your service, Miss Taj,” Zev said.

“Excellent,” Dalia said, clapping her hands.

“Change into your gear,” Kitonyi directed. “Noah and Saul will help calibrate the parameters. We’re running a Level Five invasion scenario.”

Zev headed to the changing room in the east corner. He had been practicing with 6202 and could now handle Level Ten, but Level Five was still a challenge under observation.

When he emerged in his green simulation suit, he tapped his helmet to initialize the 6202 interface. Dalia approached, handing him a new weapon. The blade featured a deep fuller, a furrowed edge that pulsed with a faint, rhythmic glow. He took it, testing the balance, but didn’t ask questions. She gave him a hopeful smile and stepped back as the dome sealed.

Zev gripped the hilt, shifting the weight between his hands before adjusting the vacuum-sealed neckline of his armor. It seemed his “salty” feedback had been implemented. The best thing about Santi Corp was that once an adjustment was suggested and approved, all the armor in the oasis was updated overnight.

‘6202 online,’ a dry, mechanical voice spoke in his ear. ‘Shall I maintain radio silence for the spectators?’

“Yes,” Zev muttered, knowing 6202 would keep his internal mic isolated from the dome speakers. “Analyze the blade. Tell me what I’m holding.”

‘Rotate the hilt forty-five degrees and run your left index finger along the fuller,’ 6202 instructed. Zev complied, feeling a slight haptic buzz as the sensors engaged. ‘Scanning… The weapon is integrated with a reservoir of viscous, non-Newtonian fluid. It contains dormant nanites. They appear to be programmed for biological disruption, but the activation trigger is currently masked.’

Kitonyi’s voice came over the domed speakers. “Staff Sergeant, this is a dark-site simulation. Your mission is to sink that blade into the targets with maximum efficiency. Understood?”

“Loud and clear,” Zev said.

“Starting in five, four, three, two, one…”

The world shifted. Zev stood in a dense forest under a sky jagged with lightning. Ghost wraiths howled in the darkness. Zev broke into a swift run, moving with a lethal economy of motion, his boots barely making a sound on the holographic mulch.

‘Proximity: ten o’clock,’ 6202 whispered.

Zev spun, his blade a blur as a wraith lunged from the shadows. He didn’t waste energy on a wide swing. He used the beast’s own momentum, stepping inside its guard to sink the blade into its neck. The strike was surgical. He wrenched the sword free and pivoted, plunging it into a second wraith’s gut before it could even roar.

His footwork was a perfected dance: swift, efficient, and devastating. He utilized the trees, launching himself from branches to bypass snapping jaws and landing behind the creatures to sever their spines. He was a whirlwind of swift kinetic energy and silver steel. Within ten minutes, thirty wraiths lay dead.

Zev stood in the center of the carnage, his breathing steady, the blade dripping with neon-green fluid.

‘Analysis complete,’ 6202 reported. ‘The nanites⁷ were successfully introduced to the vascular stream. However, there is a significant activation latency. The ghost wraith’s epidermal acidity neutralizes part of the payload on initial contact; it requires deep-tissue entry to bypass the corrosive skin. It is a brilliant concept, but it lacks a sufficient catalyst for instant termination.’

Zev lifted the sword. The simulated green blood was already being incinerated by a white glow rising from the blade’s core.

*****

Dalia stared at the carnage in the simulated forest, eyes wide, her heart thundering in her chest at the sight of a guardian fighting off over thirty ghost wraiths like it was a casual walk down the street. She stepped back, and Lulu guided her into a seat.

“He’s lethal,” Hansa whispered, clearly stunned. “It’s different up close.”

Dalia couldn’t look away from the young man standing amidst the holographic wraiths, not one bit disturbed by the flow of green blood flowing around him. She checked the data on her screen and gaped. “He did it. The delivery success rate was ninety-eight percent. The nanites reached the bloodstreams.”

“In a simulation,” Hansa reminded her. “The real-world epidermal acidity is far higher. We need to bridge that gap. We need real-world data.”

“I know,” Dalia said, turning to Kitonyi. “When can he be deployed for a live reaping?”

Kitonyi chuckled. “We don’t exactly schedule those, Miss Taj.”

“Right,” Dalia said, her gaze shifting back to Staff Sergeant Mablevi, who was stepping out of the simulation room holding the sword with a frown.

Zev removed his helmet. He wasn’t even winded. He held up the sword, his gaze pinning Dalia.

“Placing nanites in the middle of the blade is clever. The delivery is seamless, but your activation is subpar,” Zev said, his voice cool and authoritative. “Half the nanites are stalling on contact with the dermal layer. You need a higher energy yield to jump-start the reaction once they break the skin. Try slaving the payload trigger to the thermal signature of the beast’s heart to trigger the nanites⁸.”

Zev set the sword on the table, smirked at Dalia, and walked over to join Saul and Noah. His swagger was even more infuriating than his enraging smirk.

Dalia bristled. How dare he critique her work?

And yet…his suggestion made sense. Programming the nanites to lock specifically onto the hottest part of the monster to kill it, like a heat-seeking weapon, made so much sense…like using a ghost wraith’s thermal signature. Why hadn’t she thought of that? It was exactly the variable she had missed.

Damn it. She turned away, her face flushing with a mix of fury and reluctant respect. Why did he have to be so insufferable?

Dalia turned back only to catch Zev’s knowing look. She cursed under her breath, not about to ask him to repeat himself. Why was his attitude so awful?

****

<< Previous | Table of Contents | Next>>

1. Team One: Team One is the top-ranked squad at the Swala Force training oasis. It is led by Staff Sergeant Zev Mablevi and includes his closest teammates, Sergeants Saul Nkoba and Noah Bala. ↩︎
2. 6202: the designation for both a specialized simulation room and the sophisticated AI interface that the protagonist, Zev Mablevi, uses to maintain a hidden technological advantage. ↩︎
3. Dr. Hansa: Dr. Hansa is a doctor and professor at the Kirit Institute of Science and Technology (KISTech), serving as Dalia Taj’s longtime mentor. ↩︎
4. Captain Hunter: a leader of the four-person squad that includes Zev Mablevi, Saul Nkoba, and Noah Bala. He is a higher-ranking officer within the Theria Guild, indicated by his black cloak, which marks him as a higher grade than green-cloaked recruits like Zev. ↩︎
5. Elderon: The Elderon is the head of the Registarion, a central governing body in the Empire of Afrotheria. This high-ranking official serves as the leader of the Sable Council, managing the Registarion’s duties to ensure that the empire’s nine classes receive the resources they require.
   Registarion: One of the nine specialized classes of the Empire of Afrotheria and serves as a central pillar of the nation’s governing system. Its primary administrative hub, the Registarion Building, is located in the capital city of Kirit. ↩︎
6. The Elderon’s Daughter: Dalia Taj is the only daughter of Izra Taj, the former head of the Tech Class, who was elected Elderon of the Afrotheria Empire. She is a brilliant but frustrated student at KISTech (Kirit Institute of Science and Technology), where she focuses her research on developing bio-weapon nanites designed to halt ghost wraith reproduction. ↩︎
7. The Nanites: a sophisticated biotech weapon engineered by Dalia Taj as part of her research at KISTech to permanently end the ghost wraith scourge. They are designed to break down the biological composition of ghost wraiths on contact with ghost wraith blood. ↩︎
8. ‘Try slaving the payload trigger to the thermal signature of the beast’s heart to trigger the nanites.’: Zev’s meaning: Try setting the nanites (payload) to automatically go off (trigger) only when they detect the heat (thermal signature) coming from the ghost wraith’s heart. ↩︎