Page 169 of Scarlet Wars
Sean’s fists curled at his sides, his entire body tensing like a drawn bowstring, but Jackson stepped forward, calm as ever. “My name’s Jackson Lau, Orator of Cyclos.”
Another Chief rolled his eyes. “Great. Just what we needed. A fucking Orator.”
Sean let out a low growl, his posture shifting from tense to lethal in less than a second.
I imagined Jackson’s smile widening slightly. Having dealt with Cyclos and their Council for years—not to mention their very stubborn Leader—this was probably a walk in the park for him.
“Mister Lau,” the High Chief said, his tone filled with condescension, “your services aren’t necessary today. We’ve caught the perpetrator red-handed. Ms. Thompson translated beneath the bubble, and she survived. Again.”
“The first time could’ve been due to a faulty bubble, one that wasn’t properly reinforced. But that’s clearly no longer the case, since three children have died since then. Ms. Thompson survived not once, but twice, effectively proving she is its creator.”
Jackson nodded thoughtfully, like he was genuinely considering the point. “Seems very lucky you could be here to witness that yourself.”
Huh.Good observation. Why were they here?
The High Chief’s jaw tightened. “We heard about a human army trekking near the Canadian border and wanted to make sure Kanata C was safe.”
Jackson nodded again, almost casually. “I’m sure Kanata C is very grateful for such a...personal check-in. Though I am surprised you found the time to come here, what with all that work you have, finding us a new Board and all.”
He tilted his head, the picture of innocence. “It’s been over a year since the last one was eradicated. I thought military oversight was supposed to be temporary?”
The High Chief’s composure wavered for half a second.
I could’ve kissed Jackson for being so smart. He’d just singlehandedly created doubt about the Chiefs’ authority, in front offourmajor Collectives.
If they had no legitimate power, they couldn’t do shit to us.
Not declare war.
Not persecute anyone.
Notarrestanyone.
And we had every right to fight them if they tried.
“Brilliant,” Caden mumbled, his dark eyes glinting with newfound respect for Jackson.
The High Chief’s gaze swept over the gathered Offensives, his jaw tight when his eyes finally met mine with that cold, detached scrutiny.
“She’s not a resident of Crown, Kanata C, or Slava,” he said, his tone shifting into something hard and unforgiving. “They have no business defending Ms. Thompson, no matter who’s legitimately in charge.”
Jackson turned toward us briefly. “No? Pretty sure last time I checked, Cyclos still follows the laws of the Collective.” He paused for a hazardous beat. “And those laws state one is triedbeforethey are punished, not the other way around.”
He paused for effect, then continued, “Crown’s one of Cyclos’s alliances. And Slava is one of Crown’s. And you’re standing on Kanata C’s turf. Everyone here has a right to stand today, no matter who’slegitimatelya resident of whom.”
The Chief’s hand twitched around his weapon?—
“Go ahead,” Jackson said softly. “Do it. Create an international conflict when we’re already at war with humans.”
A ripple of energy rolled through the ground. The Offensives of Slava shifted first, their hands flexing around their weapons, their stances tightening.
Petru’s sword gleamed beneath the low light. Rachel’s hand hovered near her belt, and Sean’s eyes flashed with dark intensity.
The High Chief studied Jackson, clearly recognizing he had seriously underestimated my amazing friend.
“She survived translation beneath the bubble,” the Chief repeated almost desperately.
Jackson shrugged. “Maybe because she’s built differently. Or maybe because someone designed it that way. We don’t know why, but neither do you.”
