The holographic projection of the intelligence officer flickered before Kumakar, displaying a dry, concise report. "Through the data provided by the Empire, Your Excellency, we have managed to verify the identity of the poster. He was on a ship heading towards an unknown destination before the video was uploaded, and imdiately after, he entered lightspeed travel. His current whereabouts are unknown." The hologram showed the brief, untraceable trajectory. "However, the Virrelan intelligence apparatus, through their own investigations sparked by the post's virality, managed to connect him to a family that had the majority of its mbers enslaved following the war. This strongly suggests Dreznor has operatives embedded within many civilizations."
"So, this is their 'proof' of non-involvent?" Kumakar sneered, dismissing the Empire's transparency as a pathetic attempt at deception. "Do they truly take us for fools?"
"Yes, Your Excellency," the officer confird, impervious to Kumakar's disdain. "Both the Virrelans and the Hurai—who gained ownership of the majority of Virrelan slaves after the war—have independently confird his identity. They also found records related to the slaves owned by the sa master as Dreznor's, suggesting they are indeed among those killed by the pirates."
Kumakar steepled his fingers, a chilling gleam in his eyes. "What about the other relatives of those massacred slaves? Are their whereabouts known, or did they simply vanish like the one who posted the video?" He sought to map the full extent of Dreznor's unseen network, his influence across the Conclave's uncaptured territories.
"The majority of them are either dead or remain enslaved under different masters," the officer reported. "As for the few who were still alive and ostensibly free… they too have disappeared. Their disappearances are staggered, occurring over periods ranging from a few weeks to several months."
"What explains the differing tilines?" Kumakar pressed, leaning forward. "If they are all escaping and heading towards Dreznor's outposts, there must be a common thread. Is there anything, other than simply avoiding attention, that coincides with their staggered departures? Any pattern, any suspicious activity that might suggest they were indeed spies or causing problems?" He sought every scrap of detail, every seemingly insignificant fact, to weave into the intricate web of his developing narrative. He needed it to be flawless, irrefutable.
"Unfortunately, Your Excellency, we have no information regarding that. This is all the intelligence we managed to gather within the short tifra available." The officer's hologram bowed deeply, transferring all the compiled data to Kumakar's private console.
"Useless, as always," Kumakar muttered, ending the call without granting the officer permission to defend himself. He was a Willed Child for Kumakar's use, bound by his will to serve, to never betray. His satisfaction was absolute.
Left alone, Kumakar delved into the docunts, his mind working with furious intensity. He scrutinized every piece of information, every fragnted detail. Hours passed without his notice, ti slipping away as he imrsed himself in the raw data.
He finally looked up, his brow furrowed in concentration. "There is sothing here," he whispered to the empty air, "sothing I'm subconsciously drawn to, but I can't quite grasp it." He felt his mind stretching, tugging at a half-ford answer, his fingers unconsciously rotating, as if pulling a loose thread.
"Wormhole networks," he finally said, the answer materializing with startling clarity. A brief, satisfied smile touched his lips before the full, horrifying inspiration blood in his mind. He pulled up the reports of the massacred slaves' relatives again, cross-referencing their escape records. Nearly all of them, save one, had used the Conclave's wormholes at least once before their disappearance or used them before heading to their final vanishing point.
"If there are wormhole lanes, there is a VR network," he stated, his voice gaining montum. "That's how I connect them to the Empire."
He began to weave the narrative, a tapestry of half-truths and carefully selected facts. "By pointing out that none of these relatives did anything before the wormhole and VR networks were established—and only disappeared after they were—we imply that the Empire facilitated their communication with Dreznor. And not just with his relatives, but with the spies he has embedded in various governnts." His mind raced, connecting every loose thread. "The fact that he hasn't attacked any star systems slated for early connection to the VR or wormhole networks suggests he sohow obtained full schematics of our planned rollout. The Empire is the only entity with that information, indicating they told him which systems to avoid."
"Furthermore," Kumakar continued, the story taking on a terrifying life of its own, "his forces consistently target the weaker star systems, allowing for swift, near-imdiate takeovers. As for how they reach those distant systems, the Empire must be providing them with the advanced wormhole technology and the absolute coordinates we provided for the creation of our own wormhole network. All while they pretend they haven't cracked our encrypted knowledge files."
The narrative solidified, becoming so compelling that, for a fleeting mont, even Kumakar himself wondered if it were true. Had he not been the one ticulously crafting each detail, twisting every fact to serve his purpose, he would have believed it all. The source of this entire, devastating headache for the Conclave—a single viral video—was now transforming into the perfect weapon. The authentic version is on *.
"Bellissimo!" he exclaid, a low, satisfied laugh rumbling in his chest. He had found it: the perfect strategy. A single narrative that seamlessly threaded Dreznor and the Empire together, making them a single, terrifying enemy. No longer two separate threats requiring different strategies; now, they were one entity, controlled by the puppeteer of the Terran Empire.
"If this were true, then that would make the Empire a truly formidable enemy," he mused, the satisfied smile still plastered on his face. "I need them to see the Empire as precisely that: an existential threat. I need them to risk facing their worst fears, no matter the cost in lives or resources, to ensure the Empire is no longer a threat. If my previous plans were rely foundations, then this… this will be my completed masterpiece."
His expression turned serious. "Now," he said, his voice sharp, "let's tie up the final potential loose end in this perfect story." He pressed the intercom, calling his intelligence officer. The man's hologram materialized almost instantly, bowing low.
"Your Excellency."
"Check with the Virrelan governnt," Kumakar commanded. "I need the exact dates when the Bugaga star system was connected to the wormhole network and the VR network." He needed these dates. They would confirm whether the last unaccounted-for relative of Dreznor's massacred group—the one without a record of using the wormhole network—had vanished only after the wormhole lane passed through Bugaga and its VR network beca active. That would provide undeniable backing for his narrative, implying that all the survivors had fled through the Empire's network. He had a contingency, of course: if the last individual had left before the networks were established, he could simply chalk it up to an anomaly, a lone holdout who left before they could contact him. But that was not the desired answer as it risks creating potential holdouts in the Conclave council. And any holdouts risked opening holes in his perfect story, just as the Zelvora had done in the past.
Without waiting for a reply, he ended the call, confident that his orders would be followed, no matter the truth.
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