Everywhere Xal turned, Adonis appeared with the premise of a Fleet Admiral conducting daily duties. Though, before Adonis assumed Elite Guardian Boon’s position, Boon never performed his assigned tasks. Almost like when Boon reached the rank of an Elite, he felt settled and saw no further need for advancement. The probability of a Fleet Admiral dying was the lowest of any Space Force Ranger. In the last twenty-four hours since their return to Dark Specter 1, Fleet Admiral Boon rose from the most hated leader to the most respected. Any Spaceman first class or below trembled as word spread of the turn in authority, but Xal remained unfazed by Adonis and his ploy. Why would Adonis show his face to me? The best infiltration tactic would be to stay hidden from all parties unless necessary. The grin on Boon’s face told the true story.

No one would believe Xal that someone was impersonating Boon, let alone their enemy. However, Xal didn’t know how Adonis convinced all of the higher-ups that he was Boon. A new and improved version at that. Xal found that he couldn’t hide in his quarters forever. After isolating Xal for eight hours, Fleet Admiral Boon released the locks from the doors and apologized for the misunderstanding. Xal tried to stay in his room, but the Fleet Admiral insisted on an immediate debrief. 

Once debriefed, the Fleet Admiral released Xal from duty for the rest of the day. Xal didn’t mind that at all, but in the short walk between the debriefing room and his quarters, Xal saw both Adonis’s and Boon’s faces on four separate occasions. It felt close enough to an escort back to his quarters that Xal took the hint. Adonis would watch every interaction from thereon out. 

The closed-door to Xal’s quarters offered enough privacy that hidden listening devices would need to be hidden throughout the room to gather intel from Xal. It’s a good thing I don’t need to talk to do my job. While Xal knew that it wouldn’t take long for Adonis to hack his systems, especially if he used technology to clone faces, but there might be enough time to get a distress call out to someone back on Earth. A red light blinked near the long-range radio transmission deck for an inbound message. The words came through as static at first, but Xal almost lost his breath when he recognized the voice.

“… message for a… who is listening,” Drake said through strained words. “I … safehouse able … We can take four more. If you’re out there … I will issue the coordinates in…”

Xal knew then that his parents were alive. A glance towards the circular window showed no one overtly watching, and he spoke a response through whispers, almost moistening the microphone with his lips.

“Dark Specter 1, Mayday,” Xal whispered. “Personnel Compromised. Trying to find a way home. Do not transmit location.”

Xal knew where his parents were if he received such a broken message. Then a knock came that almost sent Xal to the floor. The door didn’t open, but a yellow square blocked Xal’s view out the window. A message in black ink scrawled across the paper. 

You know what’s wrong. I need to learn more. MEDBAY 0700 tomorrow.

A gloved hand appeared and ripped the paper off the window. Xal tried to open the door but found it locked once more.