A series of exasperated groans followed him as he stepped back into his console. It was almost a little satisfying.
Mercurial Spirits, Spire, Estaria
“She makes the pass. It looks like she’s in the clear—no! Intercepted by—”
Whatever the game’s announcer was going to say would forever remain a mystery, as all three of the bar’s holoscreens suddenly went blank. A second later, they deactivated entirely, one after the other.
A cry of outrage began to rise up throughout the bar, only to fall meekly silent as one of the two bartenders picked up a mop. Brandishing it over her head like a weapon, she threatened, “I will use this!”
As she stared the patrons down to make sure no one got too unruly, her coworker vaulted over the bar to check on the nearest holoscreen. “Everything’s still plugged in,” he reported after a minute. “We didn’t have a power flicker or anything.” His eyebrows arched as his expression turned cheeky, just before he decided, “You hold down the fort here. I’m going to pop over to the cafe next door and see if they’re having the same problem.”
His coworker scowled at him, but since she didn’t try to menace him with a mop, he took that as agreement. Lucky for him, as the patrons were starting to get impatient. Just as he reached the door, he heard his coworker sighing. “Look, if you all stop your bitching, then the next round is on me.”
He heaved a sigh of relief once he was standing out on the sidewalk, though it was rather short-lived. He didn’t even need to step into the cafe to know that they were having the same problem. It was filled with people all fussing fruitlessly with their gadgets. A man was arguing with a barista and gesturing to where a wrist holo projection should have been.
Rather than interrupting and making things worse, he decided that was evidence enough and stepped back into the bar.
“It’s not just here,” he announced, cutting off whatever his coworker had been in the middle of shouting at a patron. “From the looks of it, no one has holo network service.”
“So someone call the service provider,” one of the patrons whined, slumped dramatically over his table. “This was supposed to be the game of the season.”
“You can catch the highlights tomorrow,” the mop-wielding bartender informed him, pointing the end of her mop at him like a saber.
There was some scattered grumbling throughout the bar, and those who had only been there for the game paid their tabs and left. Those who were fine with simply talking to the other patrons and those who really just wanted a free drink stayed behind. Miraculously, no riots broke out, even if a few more people still needed to be menaced with the mop before they decided to simply enjoy their drinks without making any trouble.
Hopefully it was just a brief glitch. That seemed the most likely case. And soon enough, both the bartenders and the patrons put it out of their thoughts, save for the absence of the background noise of the holoscreens.
Professor Kurns’s Office, Skóli Uppstigs Academy, Spire, Estaria
It was late in the evening and Giles had been working all night continuing his work on deciphering the signal they had gathered on their encounter with the ARs nearly three months ago.
But now, with no one else around, he saw his opportunity to indulge himself in the privacy of his own office. He crept over to the door and looked up and down the corridor.
Nothing.
Not a soul in sight.
He giggled lightly to himself and closed the door quietly, as if someone nearby might actually be able to hear it if he didn’t.
Then, quietly and excitedly he tiptoed back to his desk and tapped a search into his holo. Locating the secret file, he made the screen big enough for him to see it easily, and sighed, his eyes caressing it longingly.
Then he stood bolt upright at his desk, as if about to give a presentation.
He cleared his throat.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome. And thank you. It is a great honor to accept such a prestigious prize. Firstly I’d like to thank my research team and the university. Secondly I’d like to thank my parents for allowing me to pursue the route of space archaeology when it wasn’t really a serious subject.”
He waved his hands, muttering… Wait for the laughter to die down.
“And thirdly I’d like to thank all of you for being here to help me celebrate this momentous day. When I first discovered the talismans, it was—”
The office lights flickered, and then something happened to his holo. The screen he was reading off went blank.
He tapped it.
Nothing.
He tapped it again.
No response.
Very strange, he thought.
He tried to connect a call with on-site security. “Hey, have you got any issues…” he started to say. The line was dead. Nothing. Not even a dial tone.
He scratched his head, then got up out of his chair and headed out of his office and down the dimly lit corridors to see if anyone else was having the same problem.
If anyone else was here this late in the night...
Senate House, Spire, Estaria
It was quite an opportunity, Ekks mused to himself.
An ambition that had been absent before began to bubble in his chest.
The Speaker of the House sounded exasperated even before the meeting truly began. “Alright, yes, I understand, this is all very sudden, but we must all calm down to begin the meeting.” The chattering across the table that spread throughout the entire conference room failed to get any quieter.
There was a metallic screech as the Speaker pushed his chair back and got to his feet. At last attention began to turn to him. He thumped the end of his cane against the side of the table with enough force that the table rattled. “I called for order,” he barked. “This is the Senate House, not a schoolhouse.”
The quiet that settled over the room seemed almost sheepish. With a sigh, the Speaker dropped back into his seat. “Very good.” He folded his hands over the handle of his cane. “The vote on whether or not we recall the fleet is being postponed. Circumstances have changed rather dramatically in the last few hours.”
A beautiful opportunity.
“The only logical choice is to have the fleet stay the course,” Ekks interjected, cutting off whatever the Speaker was going to say next. The Speaker settled him with an incredulous look, as if he had just been told his stepsister was actually a pile of weasels in a trench coat.
“Excuse me?” the Speaker managed once he gathered his composure again.
“You didn’t seem to care about that at all less than a day ago!” Raychel burst out. Though her face reddened afterwards, she didn’t try to retract her sentence.
“I wanted to see how things would play out,” Ekks explained calmly, folding his hands neatly on top of the table. “Clearly, that was a mistake on my part, if the lot of you are simply going to keep flinching whenever the time comes to actually make a hard call.” He eyed her shrewdly for a second, and she shrank back into her seat. Slowly, Ekks looked at the others around the table.
“Tell me,” he began after a moment. “Why did any of you choose to be senators if the idea of truly doing anything is so completely foreign to you?”
“The fact that we aren’t eager to plunge the system into an unnecessary war doesn’t mean we’re unwilling to act,” Bel argued, though she already sounded resigned. No one said anything after her. They instead waited for Ekks to make his argument.
His eyes narrowed as he centered his focus on Bel like a laser. “Who’s to say any of this is unnecessary?” he asked, though he left no time for anyone to actually answer his question. “There are ships in the outer system, and now the holo network is blacking out all across the planet. Do you honestly think that’s a coincidence?”
The others were silent.
“It seems more likely to me,” he continued, calmer now, “that this network blackout is some sort of attack by the intruders. Likel
y just the first part of a larger attack. And none of you are willing to do what is necessary to keep the system safe.” He scoffed. “Pitiful.”
“Commander—” the Speaker tried to interrupt.
“I’m declaring martial law,” Ekks stated simply, as if it was simply any other day of the week. “It seems like it’s the only option, if anyone actually wants anything to happen. I would say the current situation is pressing enough to justify it.”
The silence was deafening. Ekks didn’t wait for any of them to come back to their senses after that. He got to his feet, straightening his jacket, and breezed out of the room.
He had some preparations to make, after all.
Richard Ekks’s Office, Spire, Estaria
The Spire’s connection to the holo network had always been more reinforced than most other places. Ekks had never put much thought into it before—it had simply been a fact of life, like air or water—but as his office door closed behind him, he found he was glad for it. Though the connection was unstable, his holoconsole still worked when he tried to open it.
At least for the time being. Though it took three times as long as it normally would, his call to Fleet Admiral Boys still managed to connect.
The image was pixelated at first, colors shifting across the screen the only sign that Boys was moving.
“—mm-mander. To-oo what do—owe the—easure?”
The connection was unstable enough at first that he could scarcely hear a word that Boys said, but after a few seconds it stabilized.
“Admiral,” Ekks greeted. “The situation back here on Estaria has become…complicated,” he stated delicately. “I’ve declared martial law until the situation returns to normal.”
Boys’s eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. “Are you sure you’re not jumping the gun a bit, Commander?” he asked. Though he sounded good-natured, it was clear enough that the levity in his tone was forced.
“I like to think not,” Ekks returned pleasantly. “And that’s the part that matters, isn’t it?”
Boys stared back at him stonily.
“The original plan is still in effect,” Ekks explained, uncaring for the open distaste Boys regarded him with. “Maintain your course towards the ships in the outer system. Is that clear, Admiral?”
“Perfectly clear, sir,” Boys replied stiffly. “Will that be all?”
Ekks ended the call as his answer.
Aboard The Corona, Approaching the Sarkian Outer System
Boys sighed and dragged a hand over his hair, sagging back in his seat. There was nothing to be done, though. His own opinion on the matter was worth rather little in that moment. A few members of the bridge crew peered at him in bemused concern.
Rather than dwell on it, Boys instead picked up his communicator and patched it into the ship-wide intercom.
“This is Admiral Boys speaking. Stay on course.”
Chapter 5
Aboard The Hierophant
It all seemed too quiet. Too calm. By all accounts, the entire space fleet was in the middle of intercept protocols, and yet it was dull.
It was almost an insult to think about it.
Captain Grouthe’s thoughts swam in circles along a similar track as he paced back and forth across The Hierophant’s bridge.
It had been exciting at first.
The chaos as everyone worked to scramble the fleet in a hurry.
The tension as the ships trekked across the solar system.
The ships in the Outer System getting larger and more present on ship sensors as the fleet got closer and closer.
But they had…stalled out, sitting idle while they were so close.
Grouthe came to a halt behind one of the navigator’s chairs, peering over his shoulder at the sensor readings. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the back of the navigator’s seat. If the navigator objected to Grouthe’s proximity, he made no comment on it. Instead, he simply observed mildly, “Waiting for the other shoe to drop, Captain?”
Grouthe huffed out a laugh and stepped back, away from the navigator’s chair. “Indefinitely, it seems,” he answered lightly. “It almost seems like it might be worth it if the invasion force noticed us, just to shake things up.”
The navigator hummed in acknowledgment, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, and Grouthe continued pacing.
“Could try pulling an aileron roll,” the pilot offered dryly, glancing over his shoulder. “I mean, we’d probably hit at least three other ships, but at least it would give us something to focus on.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Grouthe returned wryly. “They would take the damage out of my pay, and I don’t make near enough money for that.”
“Oh, well, if that’s your only objection…” The pilot trailed off, rolling his eyes good-naturedly before he turned back around.
“Watch your tone, Flight Lieutenant,” Grouthe cautioned, though there was no heat behind his tone, and the pilot offered no response.
No one else felt a need to comment on Grouthe’s restlessness, and he kept his thoughts to himself after that. After all, a well-functioning crew was a calm crew. There was no need for him to stress his crew out when he needed them at their best.
A bit hypocritical, perhaps, he reflected to himself as he kept pacing. Considering he was as wound up and tense as a hemophiliac in a razor blade factory.
Something to break the monotony had to happen eventually, though. Things never stayed static for too long.
“Captain? We’re being hailed by The Corona. Should I patch it to your holocomm?”
Yanked out of his thoughts, Grouthe glanced at the communications officer and nodded once, just briefly dipping his chin towards his chest. “Patch it through.”
He opened his wrist holo.
“This is Captain Grouthe of The Hierophant,” he greeted blandly. “Has someone finally decided to tell us what we’re actually doing, General?”
Boys sighed slowly. “Grouthe, all of us are getting antsy. I do not need the attitude. It’s not going to help matters.”
Grouthe cleared his throat. “My apologies, General,” he offered. “How can I help you?”
“As you suspect, we finally have our orders,” Boys confirmed. “We’re to hold our course. Considering that, we likely have a day and a half at most before we’re within range of the invading fleet.”
Grouthe’s eyebrows rose, regardless of the fact that Boys wasn’t actually present to see it. “Not quite the decision I was expecting,” he acknowledged easily enough. “I was under the impression the Senate was beginning to waver on the choice to send us out here.”
Boys paused for a moment before he replied carefully, “Apparently there’s something of an emergency back home.” He didn’t sound entirely satisfied with that statement. “I’m not sure of the specifics, but whatever it is, it evidently has everyone spooked enough that no one in the Senate balked at the idea of martial law.”
Grouthe whistled, low and impressed. “Sounds like things have gotten exciting since we all left home. I’m almost sad to miss it.”
“Yes, well,” Boys sighed, dismissive and distant, “I’m sure they’ll keep us in the loop.” He didn’t agree with Grouthe’s attitude, that much was clear, but he was too professional to directly bring his personal feelings up. A sad, sorry stick in the mud, but Grouthe supposed that meant he was ideal for his job.
“Is there anything else, sir?” Grouthe wondered, once again beginning to pace across the bridge, back and forth like a metronome.
“That will be all,” Boys replied, and he simply hung up. Grouthe closed his holo, unbothered by the abrupt dismissal.
“Steady on, boys,” he reported to the rest of the bridge crew after a few moments, pausing his pacing as he said it only for a second before he resumed his repetitive meandering. His words were light, as if he was simply reporting on the weather. “We haven’t seen the last of all of this, and it seems everyone’s hit some turbulence back home.
”
At last, he returned to his seat at the center of the bridge. “This should all be interesting by the end,” he mused, more to himself than to anyone else on the bridge. “More than I expected it to be, at any rate.” The rest of the bridge crew seemed to pay him only a token amount of attention. They were accustomed to him thinking out loud.
“Any special orders?” the pilot asked after a moment, as the navigators worked on adjusting the course.
Grouthe needed to think for only a second before he turned his attention to the communications officer. “Let the crew in the main battery know that they should keep the cannon warmed up.”
“Do you think we’ll be needing it?” the communications officer asked carefully, even as he was already putting the message together to send it.
“I suppose we’ll know soon enough, won’t we?” was all Grouthe said in reply.
News Broadcast, Belladonne Square, Estaria
The manual camera, compared to a holocamera, was unwieldy. Positively minuscule compared to a lot of antiques, but enormous and cumbersome compared to the holocameras that had become so popular. It was so much easier to be a crew of one when no one needed to actually carry the camera. The movements weren’t nearly as smooth as with a holocamera, as the cameraman panned in after the anchor.
The cameraman made no complaint, though, and the anchor was as professional as ever.
“Here we are in Belladonne Square,” she reported, gesturing behind her. “Usually bright enough to be mistaken for daylight even in the middle of the night, now only those businesses with the foresight to have physical backups for their screens are still advertising. For businesses that had holo-tech signs, it’s as if they’ve become invisible.”
She sidestepped in a half-circle, her cameraman following her movements, until a physical screen was behind her, set up at a post office. “Even more pressing than that,” she carried on, gesturing to the screen with one hand, “the holo network blackouts have become so widespread that the Senate has declared a state of emergency.”
The Ascension Myth Box Set Page 233
