After that shocking moment in the bar, Gina and I walked out to the seaside resort. We stood on the beach, staring at the FS St. Francis anchored in the distance—old, weathered, but still majestic. We decided to stay. Free is free, and we might as well exploit it.

  I pulled out the comm. “Hey bro, guess what? I just got us a free stay here at the resort. Come on, bring the whole crew and relax for a while.”

  Jerry’s voice came back calm, like always. “Nah, lil bro. We’re good. It’s you who deserves a time out. Take your time, okay? We can’t keep the St. Francis sitting in open ocean too long—we have to move to another location.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Just give a call when you need us.”

  “Just give a call, we’ll be there,” he answered.

  The line went dead. A few seconds later the carrier’s cloaking fields shimmered. She ascended a few feet, engines humming low—then a flash of light. Gone. Jumped to somewhere hidden.

  Gina and I kept walking along the beach, waves lapping at our feet. She glanced sideways at me.

  “So… you still have feelings for Faye?”

  I didn’t want to talk about it. But when I looked into her eyes—those eyes that had seen me at my worst and never backed away—I had to answer.

  “We never had proper closure,” I said. “She just left.”

  Gina raised an eyebrow. “Ooooh. Does that mean you never moved on?”

  I smiled, small and tired. “No… I moved on.”

  The words hung there. I wanted to say the rest—Gina, you’re the one who healed me from Faye. Your smile, your bravery, your gutsiness. You made me forget her faster than I thought possible. But I couldn’t quite get it out. Not yet.

  Gina knew her from the academy. Faye was the duke’s daughter back then—Joe Tassle still in the Imperial line, still playing the loyal brother.

  Faye got what she wanted. Including me. She wasn’t a good leader—she rushed into things, acted without thinking. But at the time, it didn’t matter. I loved her.

  Then she just left. And so did her father.

  Surprising everyone.

  Gina opened a new conversation, something that seemed forgotten but could never really be buried. She asked the most important question.

  “Do you still remember the duke? Faye’s father?”

  A flash of memory hit me like a slap. The duke—one of the most despicable people I hated, right next to the dreaded emperor. Faye’s father. Joe Tassle.

  I gave a slight laugh, bitter. “Of course I remember that son of a bitch.”

  Yes, I remembered him. The duke. The emperor’s brother. Cursed by greed and jealousy. I still remember back when I was in the Imperial Marines—still a loyal Captain-Commander of the elite forces.

  Joe Tassle was in the Imperial line, but never next in line. He saw his brother’s accomplishments, the respect Arthur received.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  And him? Just the brother who got everything because of bloodline. But he wasn’t contented.

  He wanted more. He wanted to rule just like his brother.

  I remembered him forcibly confronting Marcus—a genius bound to a wheelchair, the emperor’s nephew, his own nephew—to give him a christanium seedling. The crystal that was now the most important thing on Earth. Discovered by Marcus. Named Christanium by Arthur I, who believed it was a gift from God. A crystal that could make anything—ground it down, transmute it into metals, weapons, anything the Empire needed. The true foundation of power.

  It looked like a big steaming chunk of dry ice.

  The crystal grew over time until ready for harvest. But it wasn’t just pretty glass. It sweated out a toxic red liquid—Hilatus Diabolis. Poisonous in raw form, deadly if inhaled or touched in large amounts. But refined properly? The most efficient, reliable fuel source—10x more powerful than fossil fuels.

  There were three types:

  White — least dense, but most toxic.

  Blue — medium density, medium toxicity.

  Black — the prized possession of the Empire, rare and powerful.

  Joe wanted that power. He rushed into Marcus’ lab and grabbed a seedling. But he didn’t know he grabbed the white one—the lowest grade.

  Marcus just let him be. White was low-value, still useful but nothing game-changing. Arthur learned of the theft and ordered Joe’s capture and execution. Marcus convinced his uncle otherwise: “He won’t be a threat. Let him go.”

  Arthur agreed and moved on.

  Once Joe had the seedling, he rallied his supporters—blind followers who wanted separation from the Empire, no monarchy, no god. Hundreds of thousands followed. He set his capital on land formerly known as Africa—a place once bountiful, now a dried-up barren wasteland from World War III’s nuclear hell.

  Tassle didn’t care. He thought the crystals would give him power. He hired top scientists and engineers to scatter them throughout the land. But his team couldn’t make it work fast enough. Then—miraculously—a data packet arrived: manuals, instructions, how-tos. They used it to culture the white crystals.

  Tassle, mad as he was, decided to spread seedlings across the continent - by bombing it. It rained small crystal fragments for atleast a month.

  His plan worked… but with the help of that mysterious teacher. The crystals grew fast.

  But the white crystals were the most poisonous. The raw Hilatus Diabolis sweat poisoned the air, the water, the people. His new citizens died by the thousands. Sixty percent of them—gone.

  Lungs crystallized, bodies dropped where they stood.

  Tassle had to relocate the survivors to the capital. After months, the crystals still grew. He got rich with white crystals and declared himself the ultimate leader of the Union of The Illuminated.

  People from the Empire heard about it—promises of peace, order, equality. Tens of millions migrated to Union territory. But the promises were broken by deceit, forced labor, military servitude. The people there didn’t mind… as if hypnotized by misinformation and propaganda.

  The Union forces grew. Their weapons weren’t hi-tech, but they stung a lot. They started invading Imperial lands. The emperor’s forces matched them—stalemate.

  The emperor decided to just bomb the continent.

  But Faye—Tassle’s daughter, the emperor’s niece—stepped in. She knelt before Arthur and begged him not to bomb for sake of its citizens. She said she would “fix everything herself.”

  The emperor agreed… but gave an ultimatum: “I give you five years.”

  And then… that’s it.

  I looked at Gina. “Wow,” she said softly.

  “How did you know about all that?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “I personally witnessed some of it. And a former friend told me the rest.”

  “Hmmm. Okay,” Gina smirked. “What a history.”

  Suddenly the comm sounded. It was Harvey.

  “Hey boss, you finished? I think you got something for me.”

  Gina and I quickly jogged to our parked Broncos.

  I radioed Jerry: “We’re coming back.”

  He acknowledged. A minute later, a flash of light flickered—there was the St. Francis, decloaked and waiting.

  We started the Broncos’ engines, drove off, skimmed across the sea, and backed into the ship’s docking bay.

  Harvey was waiting.

  I went straight to him and handed the disc. “Here. It’s for you.”

  Harvey took it, inserted it into his utility tablet.

  “Oh wow… new tech from the Foundation. And… a voice message.”

  He hit play.

  This time. A male voice—deep, calm, authoritative—filled the bay.

  “Dead Men Corps, this is one of the co-founders of the Foundation for Freedom. I have a mission for you. Tomorrow at exactly 1500h, be at these coordinates. Thank you.”

  I felt I recognized that voice, but when I opened my mouth to speak, Jerry cut in.

  “Mission accepted,” he said to the crew. “Set sail for the given coordinates.”

  The deck vibrated as engines powered up.

  Whatever was waiting at those coordinates… it was going to be big.