NOVEL NEXT Ch8 Jabari: Combat Commission
Thousands of kilometers from the Amber Moon Spire where the Imperium risked everything for the Crystal's data, another piece of the puzzle was falling into place. The Directorate had their own plans — and they would need the brightest and newest of their soldiers to execute them.
12:31, February 6, 2295
Officer's Quarters, Dome 7, Cape Coast Preparatory School, Ghana, Emerald Directorate territory
"Fear keeps you alive. Hesitation gets you killed."
Captain Osei's words from the final evaluation haunted Jabari Adomako as he studied his reflection in the mirror, adjusting the high collar of his graduation uniform. The deep green fabric with gold trim fit his shoulders perfectly, but underneath, his hands trembled.
Three seconds. He'd hesitated for three seconds when the Skuggr hologram lurched from the darkness, its acidic drool so real he could smell rot and ozone. Three seconds that might have just ended his career before it began.
"Perfect," he told his reflection, surpressing his doubt. "Almost perfect."
The holoscreen beside him flickered with breaking news: "...unprecedented Radi-Mon activity across three continents. Chicago authorities report..."
Jabari watched the footage—a blonde woman in Alliance colors cutting through monsters with a blue energy blade. A Valoran or a Nordling? Her movements weren't graceful or confident. They were desperate, fierce, the kind of motion that came from absolute terror transformed into violence.
"Psytum Sword," he murmured, but what struck him wasn't the weapon. It was her eyes in the brief close-up. Wide, alert, scanning for the next threat.
Could she be terrified, too? Even when she's winning?
"Look at you, trying to impress the brass." Kwame lounged in the doorway, already in his dress uniform. His smile had the brittle quality of someone pretending not to care. "Heard anything about your placement yet?"
"Not yet." Jabari turned from the mirror. "You?"
"Support division, Benin City." Kwame's shrug was too casual. "Safe posting. Decent pay. Better than ending up with the fearless idiots in Kimaris." He paused. "Did you hear about the latest casualties?"
Jabari's stomach clenched. "No?"
"Three Scarab pilots. Radi-Mon ambush on Osram's Far Side." Kwame's voice dropped. "They say the last one froze when he saw his first real Kraken. Not a hologram. Real teeth, real tentacles. The thing ate him while his warband watched. Couldn't move to help—fear spreads like a virus, you know?"
"By Anansi..." The curse came out hollow.
"That's why I'm getting a Da-Ji," Kwame continued, forcing lightness back into his tone. "At least androids don't freeze up. Don't get their squads killed."
"Kwame, that's not what Da-Jis are for." Turning to Kwame, Jabari said. "They're pleasure bots. Made for adult entertainment."
"Oh, right! Getting them confused with the Gen-5s." Kwame put a hand to his forehead before continuing. "Wait. How do you know this? You trying to buy one?"
"I studied for the tactical classes." Jabari narrowed his eyes, annoyance in his voice. Kwame was half right. He did think about saving up to buy a Da-Ji for himself at some point. Many in the DSC get cheated by their partners while away from home. At least an android would stay loyal, right? No fear, no betrayal.
"Right. Rival faction tech, Imperium section." Kwame nodded. "I'd hate to fight those guys. They say Imperials work twenty-five hours a day. The crazies."
"Imperium, Alliance, Radi-Mons, let them come." Jabari suddenly said. Afraid or not, the Directorate's enemies were many. One could still be brave despite the fear within.
The first warning bell cut through the air. Through the window, graduates emerged from the domed buildings.
"Should get food," Kwame said. "Last meal as cadets. Last meal before we find out if we're heroes or corpses."
The mess hall sprawled across Dome 3's third tier, transparent walls offering a view that felt like judgment. The academy grounds stretched below—orderly, safe, nothing like the footage from Chicago. Fans whirred overhead, casting rhythmic shadows that made Jabari think of Sky Shredder wings.
He sat with his back to the window, but couldn't escape his reflection in his untouched water glass. The jollof rice on his plate—rich with tomatoes and spices—provided delicious flavor that quelled his doubt. Still, each grain reminded him of those three seconds, multiplied into infinity.
The food in the DSC was always good. Nutritious, cooked by the finest chefs in the Directorate world. African cuisine. South American delicacies. Survive the next mission, and one could come back to enjoy it all.
Conversation swirled around him, each fragment another weight:
"...Imperium found weird legend about a mind-controlling crystal in the Moon's core..."
"...Prince Laurent went mad after his last mission. They say he saw something that broke him..."
"...my cousin was at Kimaris compound. Said the screams from the infirmary never stop..."
"Don't they get discounts on Venus for those Leased Lilies, though?" someone laughed. "All the pleasure you want before you die horribly?"
"How's that worth anything when you're always fucking dying?"
"Jabari!" Aisha's voice cut through like a blade. She dropped into the seat across from him, her uniform already perfect, ready for judgment. "The rumors. Are they true?"
He looked up, fork suspended between plate and mouth. "What rumors?"
"Don't play dense." Her voice dropped. "Everyone knows you're being considered for Kimaris. But Captain Osei..." She leaned closer. "He's questioning your readiness. The simulation."
The rice turned to concrete in his throat. "Kimaris. One exercise—"
"One exercise is all it takes." Her eyes held something like pity. "Three seconds of hesitation out there? Your whole squad dies. Their families get folded flags. You get a memorial plaque." She touched his hand. "Request another placement. No shame in living."
The speakers crackled: "All graduating cadets report to the Tower of Anansi! Repeat: all graduating cadets..."
Jabari stood so fast his chair scraped against the floor like fingernails on metal. The untouched shito sauce in its bowl looked like blood. Like the simulation. Like what he'd look like after a real Skuggr got done with him.
Walking to the Tower of Anansi felt like approaching his own execution. Each step on the palm-lined path was measured, deliberate. Other graduates passed in clusters, their laughter sharp as breaking glass. The tower rose before him—eight legs of obsidian and steel reaching skyward, a spider-god's ambition made manifest.
"Cadet Adomako!"
Captain Osei materialized from shadow like judgment itself. His ceremonial armor caught the light wrong, making him look like a beautiful nightmare. The red evaluation tablet in his hand pulsed like a wound.
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"Sir!" Jabari snapped to attention, feeling sweat gather at his collar.
"At ease." Osei studied the tablet with the focus of a man reading death certificates. "Your final evaluation is... concerning."
"Sir, if this is about—"
"Three seconds." Osei's eyes were stones. "Three seconds of hesitation against a basic Skuggr projection. Not even a sophisticated one. Tell me, Adomako—when it's real, when the thing's breath is melting your friend's face, when you can smell your squad's fear-piss... how long will you freeze then?"
The words hit like fists. Jabari opened his mouth, found it empty of excuses.
"Fear is a disease," Osei continued. "It spreads. One infected soldier can destroy an entire unit. And Kimaris?" He laughed, a short one. "Kimaris doesn't have room for the infected."
"Captain Osei!" Sergeant Keita's voice boomed across the courtyard like thunder. The veteran approached in his heavy combat armor, each step deliberate as a funeral march. "A word about the cadet?"
Osei's jaw tightened. "Sergeant, this is hardly—"
"Three minutes, Captain." Sulayman's scarred face—each mark a lesson in survival—held iron conviction. "Let me tell you about fear."
They moved aside, voices low but body language screaming. Jabari caught fragments:
"...fearless soldiers die first..."
"...the boy understands what we're asking..."
"...better scared and smart than brave and dead..."
Standing beneath the Tower felt like drowning in reverse. The structure loomed, its solar panels shifting between the spider-legs like eyes tracking prey. Ancient wisdom and modern might—everything he might lose because of three seconds of humanity.
Graduates flowed past, whispers following like smoke:
"...Osei's failing him..."
"...probably for the best..."
"...Kimaris eats its own anyway..."
His reflection in the tower's crystal panels split into dozens of versions—each one showing a different way to fail, to die, to get others killed. In one panel, he saw himself frozen as a real Skuggr advanced. In another, running while his squad burned.
What kind of fear is worse? he wondered. The fear of dying, or the fear of living as a coward?
"Adomako." Captain Osei had returned, Sulayman beside him like a storm cloud.
"Sir." The word came out cracked.
Osei held up the tablet. New text glowed on its surface. "Sergeant Keita has provided... perspective. About the nature of courage." The captain's voice sounded like it was being dragged over gravel. "Your combat scores are exemplary. Your tactical thinking, outstanding. And apparently..." He paused, as if tasting something bitter. "Your relationship with fear might be exactly what Kimaris needs."
"Sir?" Jabari felt the world tilt.
"Don't mistake this for approval, cadet." Osei's eyes could have frozen flame. "Kimaris hunts nightmares. One moment of paralysis out there, one second of letting fear win..." He didn't finish. Didn't need to.
"There won't be, sir." The words felt like a blood oath.
"See that there isn't." Osei turned sharply and strode away.
Sulayman watched him go, then fixed Jabari with a stare that saw through skin. "He's wrong about fear being a disease."
"Sergeant?"
"Fear's information. It tells you 'here be monsters.'" Sulayman's scarred face shifted into something almost like a smile. "The trick isn't killing fear. It's making it work for you. Every scar on my body? That's fear that kept me alive long enough to learn."
"But I froze—"
"For three seconds. Then what?"
Jabari blinked. "I... I completed the simulation."
"Highest score in your class. After freezing." Sulayman leaned closer. "You know what fearless soldiers do when they see their first real monster? They charge. They die. They get eaten by Radi-Mons like Helionite." He straightened. "You? You'll hesitate. You'll be scared. And then you'll do what needs doing anyway. That's why I fought for you."
"I won't let you down, Sergeant."
"You will. We all do. The question is what you do after." He gestured toward the tower entrance. "Now go. Show them that fear and courage aren't opposites—they're dance partners."
Inside the Tower of Anansi's grand hall, history pressed down like a physical weight. Holograms lined the walls—the Directorate's glory and horror in equal measure. First colonies on Osram, their hope almost painful to see. Battles against Radi-Mons where victory meant simply surviving. Ndovu Zenith rising from moon dust like humanity's middle finger to the universe.
Jabari stood in formation, front row, feeling every heartbeat like a countdown. The fusion complex hummed beneath their feet—Zephyrium crystals carved with traditional patterns pulsing blue-green life through the transparent floor panels. Unlike the Alliance's hidden pipes or the Imperium's gaudy displays, the Directorate showed its power plainly.
Here is our strength, it seemed to say. Here is what we'll die protecting.
"Oguamtrani approaches!" The ceremonial guard's vibro-spear struck the floor like judgment. "All hail Chairman Mensah!"
"Unity! Strength! Directorate!" The response thundered, Jabari's voice joining even as his mind churned.
Kofi Mensah took the golden podium like a man born to it. His clean-shaved head caught the light, dark skin gleaming with the sheen of someone who'd never doubted his place in the world. The lion medallion on his green blazer with gold embroidery wasn't just decoration—it was promise and threat combined.
"We gather today," his voice filled the space like water finding every crack, "to welcome new guardians into our ranks."
Behind him, the Emerald Directorate flag stirred in recycled air. The golden lion's head watched with eyes that had seen too much.
"But let me speak plainly," Kofi continued, his tone sharpening. "Some of you will die. Not might—will. The Imperium pushes our borders. The Alliance schemes for our resources. And in the spaces between stars, monsters gather strength."
The holograms changed. Fresh footage. A Scarab mech torn open like a tin can. Pilots screaming in vacuum. The truth of what awaited.
"Yet we stand." His voice rose. "Not because we're fearless. Fear is human. Fear is smart. We stand because we choose courage over comfort, duty over desire."
Jabari felt Kofi's gaze find him, hold him.
"Speaking of courage born from fear... Jabari Adomako. Step forward."
The walk to the podium stretched like a nightmare. Each step echoed. The holograms shifted, displaying his records—including the simulation. Including those three seconds, played on loop for everyone to see. His freeze. His recovery. His fear made public record.
"Your instructors speak highly of your abilities," Kofi said as Jabari reached him. "Particularly your skill with our Scarab mechs." The chairman studied him like a specimen. "Though your final evaluation was... illuminating."
Nervous laughter rippled through the crowd. Jabari's throat felt full of sand.
"Tell me, Cadet Adomako—what does fear mean to you?"
The question hung like a blade. This was it. The real test. Not the simulation, not the evaluation. This moment, with everyone watching, everyone knowing he'd frozen.
Jabari thought of the Alliance woman in the footage. Of Sulayman's scars. Of three seconds that felt like three years.
"Fear is a teacher, sir," he said, finding his voice stronger than expected. "It shows us what matters. What we stand to lose." He met Kofi's eyes. "And sometimes... sometimes three seconds of fear is what keeps you alive for the next thirty years."
Something shifted in Kofi's expression. He reached into his blazer, producing a beetle-shaped medal that caught the light like captured stars.
"Eight years ago," the Chairman said, voice carrying to every corner, "Sergeant Keita told me about a boy who faced down Radi-Mons with nothing but courage and a prayer. I had doubts. Courage without wisdom is just elaborate suicide."
He held up the medal. "But the Kimaris Warband, Hand of the Thousand Gods, doesn't need the fearless. The fearless are already dead. They need those who can stare into the abyss, feel their knees buckle, acknowledge their terror... and step forward anyway."
The whispers started immediately. Kimaris. The cursed warband. The ones who went where angels feared to tread.
"Will you answer their call, Jabari Adomako? Will you take your fear and forge it into a weapon?"
Everything crystallized. The fear didn't leave—it transformed. Became fuel.
"I will, Oguamtrani!"
Kofi descended from the podium, medal gleaming. "Then by my authority as Oguamtrani—Chairman of the Emerald Directorate—I commission you as Lieutenant Jabari Adomako of the Kimaris Warband." The medal's weight settled against Jabari's chest—heavier than worlds. "May your fear keep you sharp, and your courage keep you human."
"With this appointment," Kofi's voice rose for all to hear, "Lieutenant Adomako receives command of Scarab mech designation KM-233, stationed in Hangar Seven."
The hologram materialized—a war machine in Directorate green with golden edges. Hidden in the patterns, almost shy, sat a silver-white king protea. The Kimaris mark. Beautiful and terrible as the fear it represented.
"Thank you, Oguamtrani." Jabari's fingers found the medal, its beetle design intricate as the dance between terror and duty.
As he turned to face the assembly, he caught sight of Captain Osei. The officer's nod was fractional but present. Beside him, Sulayman's scarred face split into a grin that said now the real work begins.
"Unity! Strength! Directorate!" His fellow graduates shouted in unison.
Jabari stood straighter, the medal warm against his chest. He was Lieutenant Adomako now. He had monsters to hunt.
And he was terrified.
Good, he thought. Fear keeps you alive.
Hesitation gets you killed.
The trick is knowing the difference.