Zorn, ever the creature of routine, blinked owlishly, his brow furrowing like a rumpled parchment. "A priority message? At this hour? Very well, Kael, attend to it. But remember, you are to brush up on the Moren debacle..."
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"It is from General Varrick, Professor," Alistair interjected, his synthetic timbre devoid of inflection yet possessing an uncanny ability to convey urgency.
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Zorn's posture stiffened, betraying the weight that General Varrick's pronouncements carried – the force of entire planetary arsenals. Curiosity momentarily eclipsed annoyance, flickering in his eyes. "General Varrick, you say? This is indeed... unexpected."
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Sprawled on the plush sofa, his eyelids growing heavy from the monotonous drone of the lecture, Kael perked up at the mention of his father. He hadn't been expecting a personal call, especially since it had been nearly a year since their last communication. An unwelcome premonition, like a cold wind down his spine, whispered of impending micromanagement and unwanted paternal guidance.
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He rose, his movements betraying a hint of apprehension, and gestured towards the holographic screen. "Patch him through, Alistair."
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The screen flickered to life, revealing General Varrick's imposing visage. His uniform, as always, was immaculate, his expression stoic, yet his gaze sharp enough to pierce through the holographic distortion itself. Even the technological interference couldn't diminish his aura of unwavering authority.
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"Kael," his voice, clipped and devoid of warmth, echoed in the room. "I trust your preparations for the Cyber-ops exam are progressing satisfactorily?"
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Kael swallowed, the metallic tang of unspoken defiance clinging to his throat. "They are, General," he replied, his voice carefully neutral.
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"Excellent," General Varrick continued, a hint of something akin to approval flickering in his eyes. "However, knowing your propensity for laziness, I have taken the precaution of assigning one of my soldiers to oversee your preparation."
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Kael felt a surge of white-hot anger, hot and unwelcome, bubble within him. "Another chaperone? Isn't Alistair enough?" he echoed, his voice tight with barely contained frustration.
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"Indeed," the General confirmed, undeterred. "The reputation of our family hinges on you passing that flimsy excuse for an exam, something I can't, in good faith, even trust you to properly prepare for without additional oversight."
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"I don't need another teacher," Kael interrupted, unable to contain his exasperation any longer. "I have prepared adequately all on my own, don't take this away from me."
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The General's gaze narrowed, the fleeting approval replaced by a steely glint. "And do you truly believe, Kael, that your half-assed, self-guided efforts would suffice to secure you a place in the most revered military program in existence?"
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Kael bristled visibly. "I will complete this process on my own merit, without you or Mother's interference, as I've had to do with everything else in my life."
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Zorn, who had been observing the increasingly heated exchange with keen interest, shifted uncomfortably. The tension crackled in the air, thick enough to slice with a combat knife. He cleared his throat, attempting to interject a moderating influence.
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"Professor Zorn," Alistair's synthesized tones cut through the charged silence with surgical precision. "I believe this discussion pertains to a personal matter between Kael and his father. Perhaps it would be prudent for you to excuse yourself and allow them to continue this... conversation in private."
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Zorn, grasping the unspoken request, nodded curtly.
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As the flustered professor made his exit, the simmering tension showed no signs of abating. General Varrick's holographic form seemed to swell with righteous indignation.
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"Your flagrant disrespect and ingratitude are appalling, Kael. Have you forgotten the sacrifices your mother and I have made to secure our family's place among the elite? The countless tours of duty, the endless negotiations and strategic maneuvers, all in the name of preserving a world where our bloodline can thrive?"
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Kael bristled at his father's words, stung by the implicit accusation of selfishness. "No, I haven't forgotten," he shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "How could I, when you never let me forget it? Every conversation, every interaction, is just another chance for you to remind me of your grand legacy and how I'm somehow squandering it with my mere existence."
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The General's expression hardened further, his eyes narrowing to mere slits. "Existence? Is that what you call this pathetic display of indolence and apathy? You were born into a position of privilege, with all the resources and opportunities a young man could ever want, yet you treat it like a burden, something to be chafed against and rebelled against at every turn."
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"Privilege?" Kael echoed incredulously. "You mean the privilege of having my childhood stolen from me, of being raised by an AI nanny while my parents were off playing soldier and savior? The privilege of being groomed from birth to be a military machine, with no say in my own future?"
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"Your future is the future of our entire civilization!" Varrick thundered, his composure finally slipping. "We are on the brink of annihilation, and you treat it like some sort of adolescent game! The Cyber Ops program is our last, best hope for survival, and you spit on that sacred duty with your indolence and your insolence!"
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Kael opened his mouth to respond, but his father barreled on, his words laced with a mixture of anger and something that sounded suspiciously like desperation.
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"I have made countless sacrifices, endured hardships you cannot begin to fathom, all to secure a future for you, for our family name. And how do you repay that devotion? With this... this willful disregard for everything we've fought for?"
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There was a pregnant pause, the weight of the General's words hanging heavy in the air. Kael could feel his own resolve wavering, a fleeting twinge of guilt mingling with his simmering resentment.
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"Kael," the General's voice boomed, "consider this final. The Cyber Ops program offers a stable, prestigious future. This isn't a negotiation, I'm simply telling you what is about to happen."
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Kael stared at the screen, his jaw clenched, his mind a battleground of conflicting emotions. He knew his father wouldn't budge, wouldn't understand his pride at doing it on his own, but he also knew it was a big risk. Most of the other candidates were probably receiving personal training by colonels, lieutenants, and sergeants right about now.
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He met his father's gaze, defiance gradually fading to acceptance. "Thank you for the offer, General," he said, his voice losing the steel it previously held. "I look forward to meeting my new instructor."
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The General's face remained impassive, a flicker of pride flitted across his eyes. "Alistair, prepare a wing for Sergeant Forson," he said before the screen flickered out, leaving Kael alone in the silence.
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He stood there, regretting the total control his father had over him. "Alistair, set up the holodeck with training dummies, level four, run the course for 30 minutes. I need to blow off some steam."
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