Requiem
Page 27
The Coordinator spun in his chair to face Space Station Hope’s Commander on the main screen. “Let’s designate the SP-round capable UAVs and Lunars Five and Seven to maintain a secure perimeter around Agutra.”
“Understood.”
“Commander.” Tanner had his laptop open before him. “How are we doing with the debris field? Are the clean-up drones navigating to your satisfaction?”
“Yes, thank you.” The man leaned close enough to the screen Azure caught a grease smudge on his jumpsuit. Their Space Commander worked with the shepherds, not above them. Already, Azure liked this shepherd. “I’ve found the pattern in the disappearances. There’s a dead pocket near Agutra. The drones stop sending and receiving signals until they pass the ship.”
Azure lifted a finger. “Their system is complicated. Drones require a connection to the mother server. Suanoan frequencies are so intricate and multi-dimensional, anything not written in their code will be lost, disbursed by various ions and neutrinos. I’ve been working on this because we have a similar problem with the collectors.”
A human member of Command sat forward in her seat, eyes twitching between each of Azure’s. “What kind of problem?”
“The Linoan collectors are linked to a Suanoan server. However greater the distance than M45s, they get to a certain point from Agutra and shut down. Linoans can’t leave same as the slaves. I’m designing a control module we can install as a backup drive, so when we reach that distance, we won’t be left drifting in space.”
“You can fix it, can’t you?” she asked, a pleading note to match her pale face.
“Renae, don’t put that weight on him,” Terson scolded.
Azure was still working through the Linoan modules and Suanoan programming. He couldn’t offer a definite answer yet. “I have with the M45, but that system is simpler than a collector.”
She hung her head. “All of you are from somewhere else. This planet is all us humans have.”
Azure looked at Atana for support. Why do they all think this way, like it is so little to have a planet?
She offered only a subtle, chagrined twitch of her mouth.
He had to cross his arms to keep from fidgeting in irritation with Renae. “You have so much. It is not limited here: the land, the water, the crops. Up there, we had nothing of our own. Nothing. You have this entire planet. What needs to change so you can see the value in what you have?”
“We’re only humans, with no special skills or characteristics.” Her expression contorted in confusion.
“You underestimate the strength of a human. Your vulnerability makes your will stronger than most. Your desire to survive makes you adapt faster than others, find weaknesses in what is broken. You evolve at a much quicker rate than any other species I have encountered.”
The room fell awkwardly silent.
Atana nudged him with an elbow. The modules?
A gust of hot air burst from his lungs. “I can get the modules completed. I’ll need Tanner and Teek’s help, along with every one of my doku and any helpers they request. Once everything is in place and I can run a complete system analysis, we can begin tactical formation training with the pilots. We will have to trade out the fleet soon if we’re to utilize all available spacecraft. There are twice as many docked on Agutra.”
“We have more?” Miskaht asked.
He nodded. “Your population is smaller than we are used to.” Azure scanned the group. “Do you think your people will try to attack Agutra?”
The Coordinator straightened in his seat. His sweaty robe was slung over the back of his chair leaving him in just a gray t-shirt. Thermo-stripes covered his forearms so densely, Azure knew his ancestors were ridgebacks from the highlands of Vioras. Enlightened warriors, tough as teeth, they watched everything. Enforced order. “At this point, we’re considering all possibilities. We want to be prepared, considering the recent Verros attack.”
Cutter leaned toward Azure. “The Three Hundred Year War rendered a lot of interesting weapons. It’s a constant process finding and disabling them, most of which fit no standard mold or diagram. Anything could happen at any time.”
Getting a signal from Ronux, the Coordinator typed something into his tabletop screen and continued. “Azure, we would like you to contact your leaders above and inform them we are sending our spacecraft as protection. Details will load on your wristband.”
“Yes, Command. Uh—” Azure paused when the Coordinator lifted his head. “Bennett mentioned a few wristbands missing on lifeless shepherds. I do not know about your Kronos, but Linétens are quick with technology. I would change your encryptions immediately.”
One twin shifted in his seat, making the Coordinator’s eyes snap over. “Jorjan, something to say?”
“Nope.”
“Sergeant Tanner.” Miskaht pointed her pencil at him. “Make it happen.”
“Yes, Command.”
Raising his voice, the Coordinator addressed the rest of the group. “We need to get both our fleets ready ASAP. We want every capable fighter in the air, loaded with anything and everything we’ve got when the Kyras arrive. We want the collectors fitted for functioning munitions packages at Azure’s request. All available staff must be trained in methods necessary for space combat within the week.”
Hope’s Commander spoke from the main screen. “Astrotech will be ready in a few hours to open doors to additional shepherds and doku.”
“Who’s working strategy, sir?” one of the Air Crew shepherds asked.
“Sergeant Bennett is lead,” the Coordinator answered.
“Why is he not here?”
Miskaht’s pencil stilled. “He is occupied.”
The young man in a flight suit shifted between his feet, rolling his eyes skyward. “He’s in the gym again.”
Tanner closed his laptop, folding it back up against his chest then glared at the sergeant. “It’s effective at keeping snarky remarks behind the codes which govern our behavior. He ran the mission with Atana and Azure on Agutra, and we were successful. Where were you?”
“Easy,” Cutter whispered, resting a hand on Tanner’s shoulder.
The Air Crew shepherd looked away with a sneer.
Tanner’s shoulders lifted and fell with a heavy breath. “I’m calm. I’m just saying there’s a reason, and it’s effective. It’s not our place to judge, only to work.”
“If you two are finished—” The Coordinator scanned between them.
“Yes, Command.” Tanner dipped his head. “My apologies.”
The Coordinator scrutinized the other sergeant before continuing. “This will be a rushed process. We need to have outlined plans worked up today and sent out for approval from the warehouses. We’ll outsource anything we have to. Cutter, what do you think we can do in the way of munitions?”
“I’m primarily a free-form tech, so I recommend calling in a team, some from Agutra, some from here so we can discuss the best mounting and munitions types that won’t have any cross interference with the Suanoan frequencies. We don’t want to blow ourselves to kingdom come on accident.”
“Good. Take the lead on that.”
“Yes, Command.”
The door swung open, and a gruff voice called out, “Sergeant Giernas.”
Azure twisted around to see a boulder-of-a-man with tan skin filling the doorway. The security shepherd, his face all angles, eyes quick and dark, gave Azure a terse nod of approval before frowning at Giernas.
“Now, Sergeant.”
The young man who had mouthed off peeled himself from the wall and sulked across the room. Unlacing his arms at the request of the security shepherds, he exposed a blinking wristband.
“Where are you taking me?” he asked as security escorted him out into the hall.
“S.S.O. for evaluation.” The door slammed shut.
The Coordinator sighed. “Azure, please see Nalli in the communications office to inform your people above so we may continue to speak with our space department here. Then return to your w
ork on the collectors.”
“Yes, Command,” Azure replied.
“Everyone dismissed, except Sergeant Atana.”
She stopped mid-turn and flashed Azure an apologetic glance. I’ll be fine. Go.
Resisting the urge to object wasn’t easy. At her encouraging touch to his arm, he stepped outside. Azure glared at the closing door between them then set off to her room to change back into his work clothes. Walking away from her was hard for him when a warrior’s honor was his prime compass.
…
Atana folded her hands behind her and waited. Every member of Command fidgeted. One tapped a pen. Another bounced a leg, running a hand through his hair. Several bobbed in their reclining chairs. They almost seemed like normal shepherds.
“How is Sergeant Panton doing?” Hyras asked.
“Fine, sir.”
Dequan tilted sideways in his seat, resting his chin in a hand. “Where is Josandizer?”
She gritted her teeth and took a breath. “She is remaining with Sergeant Panton.”
Terson was one of the few that didn’t move. “Josandizer needs to report for duty. We need her working tactical strategies with Sergeant Bennett. She’s our point guard and prime long-range infiltrator.”
“With respect, sir—” Atana straightened her spine and felt her back crack. “Sergeant Panton’s condition worsens when she leaves. I have seen it myself.”
The room of twitches and ticks stopped.
“I imagine with time, and mutual traumatic experiences, the shepherds create bonds deeper than serum can penetrate,” she stated with a slow glance around the Command members seated at the table. “I do not wish to lose any more of the people under my leadership.”
The Coordinator looked at each side and nodded. “We are in agreement. She may remain so long as it suits Sergeant Panton’s health.”
Terson’s onyx eyes fell to the table. “However, the spreading of this—emotional impact on the shepherds needs to be contained.”
Her muscles tensed with frustration. “It will begin to be controlled as soon as you start being honest with the shepherds and not running them through extra head games and mazes. People died today who didn’t have to.”
“We cannot predict things we don’t know about,” Miskaht condescended.
“Someone in this room knows more than they’re admitting because the chameleon cloak and the low-electrical heat sync failed us today.” Her eyes jumped to Hyras. “At least our pilots were trained well, or all fifty-eight of us on that flight would be listed in your death toll.”
With a snort, she executed a prompt about-face and flung the door open, leaving Command to argue it out alone.
Chapter 45
ATANA’S FISTS CLENCHED as she descended the stairs. Adrenaline suffocated the symptoms of exhaustion for a short time, the side effects an unfortunate mix of impatience and tunnel vision. She needed to be in a lab, to code or render something, but instead found herself stepping into Gym Three.
“Welcome back, so fast Sergeant Atana.” The young man gestured to where Bennett sat up from a bench, dropping his free-weights to the floor.
She gave the attendant a half-smile through her irritation. “Porter.”
“Nakio?” Bennett’s shirtless figure jogged in her direction. They met in the middle of the free weight area. His wristband blinked with an ended call from Josie.
Concern for the team wiped the frustration from her heart. “Panton?”
“Fine.” He chuckled. “Everything go okay?”
Black lifting straps hung from his wrists, covered in chalk. His caramel skin glistened with sweat. The bulge of his chest and arms made her forget what she wanted to talk to him about. Her adrenaline was crashing, and something else, something warm and sedative, was taking control.
“Um, yeah.” She rubbed her temples to bring her brain back online. “Tanner stood up for your absence. They want you leading tactical, with Josie when she can leave and Panton’s heart rate doesn’t spike.”
He tilted to catch her eyes. “What’s going on with you? You’re never this bashful.”
“I sort of blamed Command for this Linéten business, and then I-I walked out.”
An incredulous laugh slipped his full lips. “Wow, told Command to shove it and gave Panton the finger all in one day. You are getting wily, Sergeant.”
“The finger?” She cocked her head. “I mean, I put my—in his—” She gestured her index fingers at one another. “To cauterize.”
Bennett hid his smile behind a fist. “Never mind. Forget it.”
She looked away, anger and desire at odds in her stomach.
“Your actions toward Command upset you,” he stated.
Atana hooked a hand around her stiff neck. “Everything feels so wrong, and my reaction felt so right but these feelings— How do I know when I can trust them? How do I know when it’s not the system that’s broken but me? What if I’ve overstepped the line?”
“Hey, stop.” He glanced over her shoulder before sliding a hot, chalk-dusted hand into hers.
A spark snapped between their fingers. She drew in a sharp breath as a flash of warmth hummed through her body.
Bennett’s lips parted with a heave of his lungs, leaving her wondering if he felt the same rush. “Don’t let other people’s doubts invade your smart mind. Focus on one thing at a time. Your priorities are in the right place. To this point, I haven’t known you to make a wrong decision. I trust you.”
Her eyes dragged up his moist, washboard abs, between the mounds of his pecks to the contours of his face accented with umber brows and lashes and the tuft of bangs refusing to lay flat even when he was sweaty. The humid scent of antiperspirant and hormones broke her open.
“Jameson,” she breathed, taking a half-step closer.
A brief memory flitted into her mind from their dream.
She looked down at him, lying beneath her on his sofa in the dark, her bright turquoise aura and his honeyed one blending into a lime swirl of lucent dust. It danced like a million fireflies—a barrier to push away the storm, keeping them safe inside.
“There’s so much more to us, isn’t there?” she asked. “It’s why I find myself coming to you when, inside, I’m—”
“Hey, I know how you feel.” He tugged on her hand, drawing her in until only a breath of air could slip between them. His gaze fell to trace her lips, his golden irises stretching like eclipses.
Her free hand lifted, aching to feel the soft skin of his exposed side in the physical realm. “Jameson, I want you to know I—”
Harsh beeps broke the amorous tension.
The two separated on instinct, popping free like a set of magnets. It sent her heart racing. After a moment of canvassing one another, she lifted her screen.
Threat Level Delta: Inter-zone Attacks
Pacific Zone 19
Report to Main Hangar for Immediate Departure
Atana read aloud while Bennett grabbed his things. “Satellites show nuclear possibility in the northwest corner of Tropic Zone Three B.”
Bennett threw himself into his black t-shirt and snatched the rest of his gear from the hooks on the wall.
Together, they burst out the doors, flying up the steps, not wanting to wait for an elevator. Popping out of the stairwell at the far end of the main hangar, they saw two green lights switch on in the bays, over large Field Transports. Several teams of Security Shepherds and Field Sergeants filed up the ramps as the engines warmed.
“You are staying here.” Hyras’s voice carried across the expanse at them.
Their boots squeaked on the floor as they slammed to a halt and spun around.
“Sir, we need to go,” Bennett protested.
“That was your old mission.” He stood, an unmovable man in the storm. “Code Delta or not, your priority is here working on the Kyra issue, until otherwise specified. We can’t afford to lose you three over a matter like this. You are too important.”
Azure hustled up beside them.
“What’s going on?”
“Yes, Command,” Atana and Bennett replied.
Hyras marched back inside the main doors.
A shepherd shouted across the bay behind them. “They took out the whole eastern Pac village!”
On the screens of Home Station’s satellite feed, they could see smoke pouring out of holes in the ground, momentarily blotting out the sun.
Atana groaned and whipped around, heading for the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Azure asked as he and Bennett hurried after her.
“I am not sitting on my ass while people die,” Atana huffed. “If I am stuck, I will be stuck with a purpose.”
Bennett grinned. “Getting defiant. I like it.”
The three thundered back inside and down to a wing filled with suspended transparent screens, desks, and experimental equipment: the Electrical Integration lab.
Slamming herself into a chair at a desk in the closest row, Atana donned a headset and logged into the station. “Tango Sierra One One requesting access to Tech Stat Eleven.”
The computer let out a tweet, its voice-recognizing program accepting her pattern. Scanners built into the four screen frames arcing before her made a map of her face and acknowledged its user. “Welcome back, Sergeant Atana.”
Her fingers flew across the keys as she pulled up the delta-alert zones and called in Nalli.
“Sergeant Atana, what can I do for you, ma’am?”
“Paramor, please.” She didn’t slow, swiping through program initiation for the UAVs, Bennett and Azure watching over her shoulders.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Teek appeared, his hands itching for the satchel draped across Azure’s chest. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know yet,” Azure whispered behind her, handing the satchel back. “Sorry. I ran off on you.”
“You protect what I cannot.” Teek visibly relaxed when the weight of the strap tugged on his body again.
On one of the four screens, a window popped up with Paramor’s silvery smile.
“Sahara.” He shifted closer to the screen. “Azure called in a short while ago, mentioned your Command told Earthlings they were not all from this planet, and it did not go well.”