Ayan was as shocked as Oz at first, but her longer-term reaction was more complicated. A part of her hated the waste of life she was watching, but she understood it. Just as Jake said to the captain of the destroyer, he was fighting the Order so he could get to the real war, the fight for humanity, but there was more to Ayan’s thinking. The Victory Machine led her to separate herself from Jake abruptly, and as she watched Jacob Valent become something new, something made of pure, malicious anger, she realized that he would never have been able to take things so far if they were still a couple. She stared at the frozen image of Jacob Valent holding the young destroyer captain up by her braid long after the playback ended, stuck in the realization that a part of Jake’s anger could come from her sudden separation from him.
“Ayan,” Oz said as he stood slowly. “My ready room.” He turned towards the communications team. “Triton Fleet doesn’t have an official or unofficial opinion on this yet,” he told them loudly enough for everyone on the bridge to hear. “Neither does any member of the Triton crew. No one comments on this until Triton Fleet Command is ready, do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” replied an older communications officer.
Oz led Ayan off the bridge and across the narrow hallway adjacent to his ready room. It had been furnished with a wire frame sofa, three chairs, and a few pictures of the various ships Oz had served on in his career were printed on the walls. The furniture looked incomplete, just wire frame and mesh, but it was surprisingly comfortable. Ayan sat down and stood up right away.
“What’s going on?” Oz asked. “I don’t know how to read your reaction here, do you know something I don’t?”
“Yes,” Ayan said. “This had to happen. According to the Victory Machine, at least.”
“You never mentioned the Victory Machine showing you a vision of Jake going off the deep end,” Oz replied.
“It did tell me that putting space between him and me was important, and I know what we just saw wouldn’t have happened if I were with him,” Ayan said. The idea seemed less convincing aloud.
“You can’t tell me that he’s murdering people because of a bad breakup half a year ago,” Oz said. “He’s even been with someone since.”
She ignored the bur at being reminded of Jake’s fling with a British Alliance intelligence officer. “Think about it. The Triton is almost finished, Haven Shore is effectively operational. We’ll be handing full navnet handling to them in a week. If we were together all this time, then I would have left on the Warlord with him for this trip. There would be almost no reason for me to stay near Tamber, and I’d want to be along for a big operation just like the one the Warlord finished.”
Oz sat down and buried his head in his hands. “I hate that bloody machine,” he muttered. “There are a lot of variables in what you’re saying, but you’re probably right. Doesn’t matter much though, he’s still broken most of the important rules of engagement.”
“We need to scatter the Order of Eden’s followers,” Ayan said. “For a lot of them this war isn’t real yet, and they typically approach every engagement with superior forces and firepower. We have to show them that, even with that, they can’t expect to win every time. Jake just did.”
“You agree with what he’s doing?”
“The more I think of it, yes. Those bridge officers weren’t there to embark on some wonderful adventure, they were going to war, to kill innocent people just like Jake said. They were wannabe murderers, and Jake stopped them. Maybe scared hundreds of thousands more.”
“And inspired thousands of zealots at the same time,” Oz said. “The next group of recruits will feel completely justified when they sign up for Order military service because of this. He’s changed the kind of war we’re going to be fighting, never mind the Edxi waiting behind the Order.”
“Maybe, but this could slow down Order recruitment, push some soldiers into deserting altogether. I’d rather fight a core of a hundred dedicated zealots than ten thousand people who are just following orders,” Ayan said.
“I agree, but we’ll have to wait and see if that math adds up,” Oz said. “At least we all know what kind of war we’ll be fighting now. The British Alliance is joining in on their founders’ day at the end of the week. They’ll be announcing it then. Who knows what this footage will do for their recruitment.”
“That’s something,” Ayan said.
“I prefer to put aside whatever anger he may be expressing, and examine his thinking,” said a smooth, low voice through the cabin’s sound system. “He proposes that he acts as an ancient doctor, cutting a cancerous mass free from healthy tissue. That is an appropriate approach to this conflict.”
“Sorry, who’s speaking?” Ayan asked.
“Couldn’t wait until she’s officially transferred to the Triton tomorrow, could you?” Oz asked, looking towards one blank wall. A live portrait of the ship appeared.
“This is an important discussion, Oz. Besides, if there’s anyone I feel I don’t need protection from, it’s Commodore Ayan Anderson. Permit me to take this opportunity to welcome you back, Ayan. Last time you spent any significant amount of time aboard, I was asleep.”
“This is the Triton’s artificial intelligence?” Ayan asked.
“I’m a caretaker and operator, a living being tailor-made to live aboard the Triton for several centuries. I’m mostly aquatic, and measure fairly high on the telepathic scale, higher than the Lorander First Minister, though she does have significant reach and comprehension. Putting that aside for a moment, I look forward to meeting you in person, something we’ll have to do some time after the Warlord arrives.”
“It’s good to meet you, too,” Ayan said, regarding Oz with a raised eyebrow. She couldn’t believe that he didn’t let her in on the secret about the Triton. “At least now I know why Oz has seemed distracted every now and then, usually in the middle of conversation.”
“I’m sorry, since he’s one of my only means of conveying my opinions, I spend a lot of time communicating with him,” the Triton responded.
“So you’re called by the same name as the ship?” Ayan asked.
“I’ve had three names, to be honest,” the voice overhead replied.
“Three names? You told me to call you Triton,” Oz said.
“That’s what you kept picturing and there was no reason to complicate things, but Ayan’s mind is more well suited to layered thinking. The surface thoughts she passively shares are more compassionate and elaborate than your deeper musings. That, and she’s a puzzle solver. I love those.”
“So I’m simple-minded,” Oz said, shaking his head.
“You have a highly motivated soldier’s mind that draws on a deep well of knowledge and experience. In classic human analogy, you would be a twenty-year-old scotch with character and strength, while she is a fuzzy navel that is fresh with complex bright flavours. Both are wonderfully intoxicating, but beyond that they cannot be compared.”
“Let me guess, you experienced both vicariously?” Oz asked, rolling his eyes.
“On my last tour some of the crew enjoyed their contraband a great deal, and they were surprisingly adept at sneaking it aboard. I quietly linked with them telepathically while they indulged. Only once per beverage, mind you.”
Ayan was amused beyond words by the Triton’s keeper, and she enjoyed taking a moment for lighter conversation, but the more important issues nagged at her. “What would you like me to call you?” she asked.
“One of my favourite handlers called me Hausgiest, and I admit I became partial to it,” he replied.
The translation appeared on her command and control unit as House Spirit. “Then that’s what I’ll call you, but I’ll keep your secret.”
“Thank you, Ayan. I hope to meet you soon.”
“You will, but what were you saying before about Jake killing officers aboard the destroyer?”
“I will elaborate on my opinion,” Hausgiest replied. “His methods are morally wrong in most situations,
but he did kill military personnel, making his actions defensible in this specific case. It’s true that they would eventually go on to crew that ship against his allies, however distant or removed. None of those factors seem to matter to the logical thoughts I know Captain Valent had before stepping onto that bridge. While he may have seemed unhinged, his approach makes sense when you consider it tactically.”
“Okay, I think I know where you’re going,” Oz said.
“Captain Valent is setting a standard for brutality that is so high that his allies will feel their actions in war, however barbaric, will seem tame compared to the vitriolic murders he carried out. Some of his allies will even try to best him in terms of malicious performance. The Order of Eden is facing a foe that will hesitate less in battle when going for the kill, and that is highly intimidating. Add the Warlord and their armada-of-one strategies, and you have a dreaded opponent that can appear anywhere at any time then disappear after they’ve taken whatever they like. May I remind you of the Triton fighter wing’s motto? Deploy, dominate, disappear? It seems the Warlord beat us to it, and I can’t wait to show them how the Triton executes similar strategies.”
“So you support Jake’s methods?” Ayan asked.
“Yes. Mathematically, his methods of intimidation stand to save human lives on both sides by aggressively concluding this war as quickly as possible. It will seem bloodier than a more careful, drawn out conflict, but on the whole, the shorter, more violent confrontation of sides will involve fewer people and force everyone on both sides to reconsider the wisdom of their cause. The Order of Eden will be reduced in number. Oz is correct in predicting that zealots will appear, and if we relent they will win, but we must not hesitate. Victories will draw recruits to either side, and we must have as many as possible as soon as we can, then celebrate them each so the entire galaxy can hear us. I know this is not the Freeground way, but the war can be won using this strategy. I urge you to consider it, and to understand that this isn’t my strategy, but Captain Valent’s. I’m only extrapolating his intentions from his style and the insight I gained when I read his surface thoughts and emotions weeks ago.”
“Do you read everyone who comes aboard?” Ayan asked with a chuckle.
“Only a little, enough to know whether or not they can do the Triton or their fellow crewmembers serious harm. I have to protect the silverware somehow,” Hausgiest replied.
“Well,” Ayan sat down slowly, considering everything Hausgiest said. “You’re right, this isn’t how Freeground Fleet would fight this war. There would be a lot of prisoners, the Admiralty would have a hand in determining the mandate of every outgoing ship, and Jake would probably lose his command for his conduct. Freeground has never met something like the Order, though. They’ve never won a battle the way Jake and the Warlord crew did. Against those odds, any Freeground captain would be instructed to stand down and retreat.”
“I’ll support strike and fade tactics, but it’s not in me to kill people who surrender to me,” Oz said.
“I don’t know if I could shoot someone who has surrendered to me, either. It looks like he had to work his way up to it a lot,” Ayan replied. “He was so pumped up with rage and adrenaline, he didn’t seem human anymore. I think – no, I know – he can’t keep that up. It isn’t in him. Just the same, he must know he’s in a unique position with the Warlord. Nowhere in that report does it mention that his attack is sanctioned by Triton Fleet or the British Alliance. He really did present himself as a terrorist,” Ayan said. “That’s going to make anyone who doesn’t have a real killer instinct question whether or not they join the Order.”
“I believe that was his purpose, and, barring a few who will be even more steadfast because Jacob was so merciless, we’re going to see a drop in Order recruitment. We will also see a rise in our own recruitment because of our association with the Warlord,” Hausgiest agreed. “Speaking of that ship, the Warlord’s encrypted after-action report has just finished downloading and I have bad news. Captain Jacob Valent collapsed after successfully assuming control of the destroyer. Over forty-one percent of his body has been destroyed by nanites programmed to target unregistered framework technology. His brain is intact, but stasis is failing. I’m readying a surgical bay and manufacturing organs, bone, and tissue as requested by the Warlord’s ship doctor, but she warns that this will be a difficult surgery. Life changing for Captain Valent.”
“Life changing?” Ayan asked.
“During the next twenty hours, all the framework technology responsible for the creation of Jacob Valent must be removed and replaced with normal human transplant material. He will be as human as you are if he survives, perhaps even more so. The Warlord and the rest of the convoy will be here in fifty-three minutes. Doctor Messana has requested that you be in the surgical bay waiting for them when they arrive.”
“Why?” Ayan asked as she got to her feet.
“She suspects what I can see plainly; that you still love him, and more importantly in this situation, he loves you. It is a well known fact that the presence of loved ones can reduce pain and suffering.”
Ayan was already through the door as Hausgiest started stating the well-known facts. Oz wasn’t far behind.
CHAPTER 56
Homecoming
Watching the Warlord arrive in the Triton’s main hangar didn’t help Ayan’s nerves. The holographic display in the medical bay was perfectly clear; it was as though she was watching from a hangar window above the scene as Agameg and a massive group of Triton crew greeted the crew of the Warlord, but it didn’t match her hopes for the homecoming, and it didn’t change the fact that Jacob Valent would be brought in at any moment in critical condition.
Ayan envisioned a joyous welcome for the Warlord on Haven Shore’s main landing pad. The arrival of the ship and a grand reception was long overdue. There were hundreds of people, perhaps even more, who liked the Warlord and believed that its crew should be citizens of Haven Shore. The fact that the ship had been responsible for thousands of tonnes of equipment and supplies reaching Haven Shore through the Triton was an open secret, and Jacob Valent was well liked by Haven Shore residents.
That celebration would be delayed. The extensive damage the Warlord sustained in her mid dorsal section made entering an atmosphere questionable, and Doctor Messana had to get to the medical bay as quickly as possible. She had been preparing to save Jake for days, and she had more hands-on surgical experience than most doctors in the fleet.
Ayan focused in on a commotion amidst the crowd forming beside the dark hull of the Warlord and found Alice arguing with Frost. “I’ll keep my vacsuit sealed the entire time,” she said, “There’s no way anything could get through.”
“We can’t let you anywhere near him until we’re sure there isn’t a trace of the nanobots that put him out,” he said, putting his arm around her relatively small shoulders. “I’m sorry, lass. He’s in good hands, and Ayan’s waiting for him up there. Triton’s running scans right now on everything passing through her airlocks, you know she’ll catch any nanos that’ll cause trouble.”
“Triton’s scanning now?” Alice asked.
“Aye, so you know it’ll be a couple hours, at most,” Frost reassured.
“Yeah,” Alice said.
“Suit sealed, just in case,” Frost said.
“Aye,” Alice said, nodding slowly.
Ayan felt for the young woman, she’d done so well aboard the Warlord. Not being able to see her father was a terrible shadow to cast over her success. “I’ll take care of him,” Ayan said under her breath.
Doctor Messana emerged from the Warlord in a sealed white and red vacsuit, riding on the back of a flat bed cargo truck with three medical bots sealed in sterilization sheeting. It headed directly for a freight elevator that would carry the medical team to the floor Ayan was on, three decks above the main hangar. The celebrating crowd near the side of the ship silenced as it passed, reminded of the cost of their victory.
The most impo
rtant part of her fantasy about the Warlord’s homecoming on Haven Shore’s dock was Jacob. She’d never consciously thought about it, but granting him citizenship and welcoming him personally was the central pillar of that dream, and without that it all felt empty.
“He’s going to be all right,” said one of the medical technicians as he moved a trolley with a pair of sealed containers atop it towards the operating table.
Ayan hadn’t realized she’d shed a tear, and wiped the moisture away. “I know,” she replied.
“I have to ask you to activate your suit’s self-sterilization mode and to seal your hood, Commodore,” he said as he locked the trolley in place. The surgical table was an Earth invention. It looked like a half-bubble while it wasn’t in use, but when there was a patient inside, it would seal around the surgical sites on their body and use a myriad of tools to carry out the doctor’s instructions. It was the best technology in the solar system as far as they knew, and from the looks of the trolleys set in a specific order around the operating theatre, they had replacements for at least half of Jake’s organs and limbs. Ayan couldn’t see inside the containers on the trolley, and an opaque barrier was being tested that would transmit between Ayan and everything from Jake’s shoulders down, so she could only see his head when they were operating. She was more than a little thankful for that.
Lacey and Moira McFadden were settling into seating that overlooked the operating room. They waved at her from behind the transparent bulkhead, Moira offering a greeting smile, and Lacey trying her best to look cheery and failing. Oz entered and nodded at her. “It’s going to be all right,” he said through the communications receiver in her loose fitting vacsuit hood. “Tell him we’re all here pulling for him.”
“I will,” Ayan replied. The transparent metal greyed so she couldn’t see who was looking on, and she cleared her throat, steeling herself for whatever was to come. She wanted to be strong for Jake. There was nothing reassuring about a weepy bedside companion.
Randolph Lalonde - Spinward Fringe Broadcast 08 - Renegades Page 45
