What would be good for her morale would be seeing with her own radically enhanced Prevo eyes that Harper was alive and mostly in one piece.
Medical on the Saratoga reports none of the injuries she suffered from the shrapnel are life-threatening.
‘Life-threatening’ is your threshold for garnering concern, Stanley?
I was merely endeavoring to provide reassurance.
She laughed quietly between taps. Stanley had been denied the chance to grow and evolve over time as much as his Noetica counterparts—her fault, no question—and it showed at times. But he was trying. Thank you, Stanley. It does help, a little.
The shuttle eased through the force field into the hangar bay and settled into a docking berth.
She waited, but now she tried to look chill about it.
An eternity later the shuttle hatch opened. Brigadier Jenner departed, followed by a clerical officer, and she nodded curt greetings at both without speaking.
Harper brought up the rear, limping gingerly through the open hatch while waving off help from another officer. When she spotted Morgan, she cautiously adjusted her course. Morgan readied a stern, disapproving expression as her heart buoyed.
“Don’t give me that look, Lekkas. I pulled your shattered, comatose body out of a crushed skycar—half your bones were literally shattered—so don’t even think about making a big deal out of a couple of scrapes.”
“You ran around for twenty minutes with a piece of shrapnel lodged in your back that narrowly missed your spine.”
“That depends on your definition of ‘narrowly.’ I’m fine.”
Morgan’s gaze was critical in inspection as she circled the woman. Two medwraps encroached beyond the seams of the BDUs, and Morgan knew at least two additional ones were hidden beneath the clothing. But Harper was walking under her own power, which was more than Morgan could have said of herself until a week or so ago.
She relented, completing the circle to again stand in front of Harper. She grabbed the cranky, beautiful Marine’s hands and squeezed. “All right. But I’m watching you.”
Harper eyed the long stretch of hangar bay between them and the lift, drew her shoulders up and started off toward her goal. “A tiny piece of shrapnel caught me in the ass. Why don’t you watch it?”
So Morgan did, for several seconds, before hurrying to catch up.
3
AFS STALWART II
MILKY WAY SECTOR 19
* * *
“WHAT DOES VICTORY LOOK LIKE?”
Admiral Rychen jumped right in. “Blowing an enormous warship manufacturing facility to smithereens looked like a damn fine start.”
Miriam lifted an eyebrow. “Only twenty-five more to go.”
Caleb chuckled, then quickly squelched it. When she glanced inquiringly in his direction, he waved her off. An inside joke for later, perhaps.
Rychen gestured toward the door. “Point the way.”
Miriam appreciated his enthusiasm—really she did—but she needed a measure of sober maturity from him right now. From everyone at the table. “Finding them isn’t the problem. Here’s the problem: when all the fabrication facilities lie in ruins, what then? We’ll control the skies, so to speak, but not the ground. Not the commerce, not the infrastructure, not the government. The Directorate won’t be able to get rid of us, but we won’t have freed anyone.”
Alex protested. “We will have saved any further species from being Eradicated…” her shoulders sagged “…no, only those who would’ve required a military response to corral. For more primitive species, the Theriz can still go in and shred their planets. So, Theriz Cultivation fleets and facilities next?”
She offered her daughter a rueful shrug. “Thank you for making my point. People, I’m going to keep asking the question until we come up with a suitable answer, so don’t be shy. The need to decimate the Machim military capabilities is a given. But beyond this objective, how do we dismantle the controlling governmental structure, which has existed for longer than we’ve been able to speak a meaningful language? I’ll leave the question of what we replace it with once it’s dismantled for tomorrow.”
In the silence that followed, she found herself wishing Richard were here. His knowledge of the geopolitical games played throughout history would be helpful to the discussion. She’d considered more than once asking him to make the trip, but he was too valuable to everyone else for his time to be spent sitting around reinforcing her clarity.
No one jumped in; she needed to let it go for now. “Until someone comes up with a decent suggestion—and I include myself in this category—let’s talk about some practical matters. We were lucky to complete this mission without significant opposition, but we can’t expect our good fortune to continue. We will find ourselves facing a sizable Machim fleet sooner or later, and prudence dictates that we assume sooner.
“The conflict at the Provision Network Gateway took place in the middle of nowhere, and this enabled us to exercise certain liberties. Given our current focus, it’s possible the next encounter will occur closer to a populated area, which will limit our use of both Dimensional Rifters and negative energy devices.”
Subdued unrest rippled down the table, and she allowed it to dwindle before continuing. She was asking a lot of them, pushing them harder. But they were at the table because they could deliver. “It’s not enough for us to be creative once—we must be creative every time.”
Brigadier Jenner frowned. “You’re suggesting we can’t count on using the trick that took out the Imperium at the Gateway the next time we face one.”
“Among many other tricks, yes, I am. If a move risks taking out a space station or other habitat, it has to be off the table. Also, any maneuver that succeeded for us in the last battle, we can expect them to be prepared for in the next one.”
“Because the knowledge gained didn’t die with the combatants on the battlefield…because they didn’t truly die.” Jenner shook his head skeptically. “Okay, so how do we penetrate an impenetrable shield?”
Thomas spoke up. ‘The Machim data contains a small number of details on its properties and how it is generated, but none of those details point to a viable way to circumvent it.’
This wasn’t news. If the data cache had held the needed information, they would’ve already devised a way past the shield.
Alex had accessed the specific data Thomas referenced and was already studying it. “The shield’s not technically solid, not in the way a hull is. It has a lot in common with a force field barrier, albeit a dramatically reinforced and fortified one…or two. It could be two barriers.” Her nose scrunched up as she peered at the aural. “Kennedy might be able to figure out a way to counter it. She and shielding have a special relationship.”
Given how easily Ms. Rossi had figured out a way to restore communications during the Metigen invasion, Alex could be correct. “Do you think it’s worth asking her to come over with the next group?”
“Lobbing questions and answers back and forth isn’t a practical option, so if this is a high-priority goal, yes. You’ve got some engineers and techs on this side who can help her out, don’t you?”
“Several. I’ll make the request.” Miriam took a deliberate sip of tea and returned the glass to the desk. Her gaze passed across everyone in the room. “What does victory look like?”
Silence answered, but only for a second this time. Then overlapping comments erupted to blend and shape one another. They were talking, which meant minds had been working in the intervening minutes. So she let it continue for a while.
Finally Caleb’s voice cut through the din. “I understand why no one wants to bring it up, but part of the answer is this: ultimately the only way we achieve a real victory is if we remove the Directorate from power. Completely. Officially unseating them won’t be enough. Collectively, the Primors control more than two trillion Anadens, and their control is not dependent on the Directorate’s status as a governing body.”
Commander Lekkas eyed
him intently. “You mean assassinate them—which is totally fine. I’m just checking.”
“If only it were so straightforward. Regenesis renders even that strategy a fool’s errand. To simplify a complex problem? We have indestructible warships, but they have indestructible people. We’ve got to find a way to break out of the impasse that creates.”
Miriam nodded. “So if we plan to go down the path you’re suggesting, we will need to remove their ability to return in a cloned body as well. Such a process requires a physical facility: equipment, data storage, a way to remotely receive new data, and a host of medical technology. We need to know where the Primors undergo regenesis.”
Jenner leaned forward wearing a scowl. “Are we seriously discussing the assassination of the entire governing body of this place?”
Miriam gave the question due weight; she shouldn’t and wouldn’t brush it off lightly. “If someone had assassinated Adolf Hitler and Joseph Stalin in 1938, tens of millions of lives would have been saved. It’s not a disproportionately extreme example, either, because a far greater number have already died at the hands of the Directorate. Because they intended and still do intend to wipe out the entirety of humanity.” She paused. “But it is important for us to recognize it for what it is. I bear the full responsibility for the decision when it’s made, but if anyone wishes to lodge a formal objection, please do so.”
Jenner retreated with a faint shake of his head. “No, ma’am. You’re correct, of course. But what if the Primors can use any regenesis facility? What then?”
“If you’re asking whether we will try to eliminate all such facilities….” Miriam’s gaze fell to the table’s surface. The story of her career could be summed up by the trite adage that she always did what was required in the circumstances. But there were limits to even deals with the devil, lines which should never be crossed.
She looked back up. “No. To do so is equivalent to killing over two trillion people, many of whom play no part in the Directorate’s misdeeds. If it turns out that the Primors are able to undergo regenesis at any facility, we will have to pursue other options.” She could only hope when the time came, other options had been discovered.
Rychen leaned in toward the center of the table. “One could argue it wouldn’t be killing the Anadens at all, merely reducing them to the same state everyone else faces. They live until they die, and that’s the end.”
“I doubt you would be able to find an Anaden who agreed with you.”
Rychen sank down in his chair, deflated. “Nor would I, were I one. Point taken. So these anarchs must know what regenesis facilities the Primors use, right? And if so, where they are?”
Alex frowned. “Maybe, maybe not. They’ve collected a wide variety of intel, but I expect this kind of information to be closely held. Insanely so. The Primors are paranoid about far less important information than the details of how they maintain their immortality.”
Miriam sighed as the obstacles piled up one after another. “As paranoid as the anarchs? They won’t so much as tell us where any of their bases are located. Assuming they possess the information we’re seeking, I doubt they are inclined to hand it over simply because we ask for it.”
If she sounded frustrated, it was because she was. Since the initial meeting with Sator Nisi, she had encountered nothing but resistance from the anarch leadership. They claimed to want to work in concert, but they guarded their knowledge and resources with the zeal of a dog guarding its most prized bone. So far the only actionable intel she possessed were the locations of Machim production and staging facilities, and this was due almost entirely to Alex, Caleb and Valkyrie’s actions.
‘Perhaps Alex and Valkyrie could hack the Directorate’s data network as they did the Machim one.’
Alex burst out laughing. She dropped an elbow onto the table and her chin onto her palm. “You’re funny, Thomas—unless it wasn’t a joke, in which case you’re delusional.”
‘It was mostly a joke, but I always leave my options open.’
“Uh-huh. I have been thinking that we need to find some easier, more reliable way to infiltrate their networks than the type of stunt Harper and Sotiras had to pull today. But I don’t have any good ideas yet. Sorry.”
Miriam cleared her throat. “All right. Working backwards from our goal—a very long way backwards, I’m afraid—our first step is to convince the anarchs to show us a few of their cards. If they want to be our partner, they need to carry their weight, not sit back and let us do all the work. How do we convince them to do so?”
Alex grimaced. “Aside from Nisi, there’s not much in the way of an organized power structure in the anarchs. There are supervisors for the missions and whatnot—people like Xanne—but if you’re asking who the head of the intelligence department is, for instance, I’m not sure there is one.”
“Can your friend Eren help?”
“He insists he’s but a lowly front-line operative who’s only given the information necessary for his next mission. And in fairness, he may be telling the truth. He’s not exactly the bureaucratic type.”
“It likely doesn’t matter in any event. The real power resides in Sator Nisi. We have to convince him to instruct his people to cooperate.”
She found Nisi to be uncommonly frustrating, and the man met her most steely declarations with an enigmatic, close-mouthed smile and a quiet deflection if not outright refusal. Alex’s interactions with Nisi had rarely lasted longer than two minutes before ending in cursing, an exasperated gesture and a rapid departure. It was more or less the same with Rychen, and Field Marshal Bastian refused to speak to him at all.
She exhaled, too ponderously. “Caleb, you’re the only one of us he’s shown any interest in working with. What can you do?”
Caleb opened his palm above the table, and an amorphous ball of red sparkles materialized above it. “Nisi’s not interested in me. He’s interested in this.” The lights vanished as he clasped his hands together. “I tried today, actually. He evaded the attempt with greater skill than Morgan dodging lasers in a fighter jet.”
Lekkas snorted.
Caleb shrugged at Miriam. “Look, the fact that we can’t see the organization behind the scenes doesn’t mean it isn’t there. In fact, it has to be there, or a group as large and spread out as the anarchs never would have survived this long. Nisi plays the role of wise elder sage, and plays it very well, but he’s as shrewd a leader as anyone I’ve ever seen. He’s CEO to a vast, intergalactic organization and political leader to a multi-species coalition of dissidents. He’s also…something more, but I haven’t figured out what it is yet….”
He blinked and shook his head. “My advice? You need to find someone who speaks his language, which is not the language of the military. You need a skilled diplomat to make your case and negotiate your terms.”
“The whole purpose of the GCDA was to be apolitical. We’ve got the military, scientific and intelligence proficiencies covered, but I never expected to need to keep politicians on staff.”
Jenner straightened up in his chair. “Commandant? I have a suggestion on how to fill that void.”
4
CHIONIS
ANARCH POST ALPHA
MILKY WAY SECTOR 59
* * *
RETURNING TO POST ALPHA—his home, if he had one at all—felt oddly surreal. Like he were belatedly waking from a hypnol-laden trip that had been more real than the real world.
Jagged, snow-covered peaks loomed down on Eren asi-Idoni from outside the hallway windows. They enveloped the base on three sides, hiding the stronghold but exacting a price in the form of bitter cold and punishing winds.
Everything had changed since Eren had last set foot on the Post Alpha grounds. What had previously been a vengeful game of spite against the Directorate, admittedly laced with a topping of thrill-seeking if angst-driven behavior, was now a full-scale war. The Humans had swept in on a wave of audacious destruction he could only respect and made the rebellion real. Real stakes, real c
onsequences and the tantalizing promise of a real victory.
Help them, Eren, and watch the universe turn your way.
Miaon’s words had haunted him of late. Part of him resented the shadowy Yinhe and its Kat friends for long having been playing a far grander game without letting the anarchs in on the fun. Another part refused to believe he could in any way be at the center of such a game. How could he be, a quiet voice whispered, when he hardly deserved to be alive?
Yet another part of him believed the notion he might be at the center nonetheless was absolutely fan-fucking-tastic.
His thoughts drifted off while he stood in the middle of the hallway, a whimsical expression on his face as visions of stabbing the Idoni Primor through an eyeball danced through his mind—
—a vicious kick landed square on his shin, sending pain splintering up through his knee. He yelped and grabbed for his leg. “Ow!”
Cosime followed up the kick with a punch to his shoulder then a shove into the wall. “You ass. You self-righteous, conceited, show-off ass!”
Eren raised his hands in surrender, then grasped her wrist to hold off the next swing—gently, as he didn’t want to hurt her, even if she apparently didn’t share the same sentiment toward him. “What the Hades, Cosime? Calm yourself. And stop hitting me.”
“Fine, but you deserve it.”
He sighed and slouched into the wall. “Why? Why do I deserve to get beat up?”
She adopted a defensive pose against the opposite wall. “You ditch me to buddy up with a bunch of mysterious aliens, and you don’t tell me about them, even when I specifically ask you what you’re caught up in. You and your new best pals set fire to the world then get lauded as heroes, and now you’re hanging with the big guy at Satus like you’re Zeus’ newest favored plaything. Why did you even bother to come back here? To pick up a few trinkets you left in a locker and steal the good hypnols from the lounge?”
Aurora Resonant: The Complete Collection (Amaranthe Collections Book 3) Page 44
