The RIM Confederacy: Warlord Wars

Prologue ~

War was coming to the RIM, the sudden knowledge of that was like a thrust right into the heart of the Master Adept, and she had to lean back on her divan and she gasped.

The where was easy; it was the foresight of being able to look into the future that sometimes made this kind of new and sudden realization such a major thrust into her psyche.

She grunted.

War. Battles of ships and even of RIM forces on the grounds, in frozen climates and in desert lands.

War. She shuddered and then a shiver went down her spine.

And death.

Someone she cared for—someone she in fact respected, was going to die in this war that was as yet, un-fought war.

She inhaled, the air whistling through her teeth as that made for a whole host of other possibilities suddenly reared their heads as well.

She thought often of the analogy that the previous Master had often used about the reading of the future.

It was like walking up to a row of taxis all waiting for a fare.

Some of those taxis were dirty and wrecked and had parts missing.

Others looked much better and newer and cleaner.

Some were being driven by a skeleton, others by drivers who looked like they couldn’t drive a scooter, never mind a taxi.

All had their doors open as their drivers were motioning for her to enter.

But each led to a different future.

Some led to death and destruction, others to happiness and success.

But you never knew just by looking at which one was best—you made your choice, the old Master used to say and you got in.

The future was whatever you found on the taxi’s path ahead…

And this war was ahead of every single path she looked down.

War.

And death.

And for the Issians there were some other items too that were coming.

She shivered once more.

She would have to think on this…and if needed, she would try to forewarn some friends here on the RIM

She didn’t smile, but did take another sip of her tea…