Echoes of the fallen, p.2
Echoes of the Fallen, page 2
“We have the Eagle,” Winters said. “It has stealth and can operate alone.”
“There is also the Tera,” Sif said, referring to her personal stealth ship.
Winters didn’t like the idea of sending the Tera. It was poorly armed and designed for shorter ranges.
“Or both,” Sif continued. The Eagle was designed to act as a mothership for ships like the Tera.
“I like that idea,” Winters said, looking at Sakamoto to shoot holes in the plan.
“That is a good idea,” Sakamoto said, and Winters couldn’t help but wonder if he liked the plan because it got rid of so many unknown Vapaus Republic assets and didn’t risk ex-SOG. Plus, it would get rid of Sif.
“Your assistant can provide no more information?” Sakamoto asked, looking at Bonnie.
“No, sir. Sorry. Sylphara can’t access the full database of her creators, and she has no knowledge.”
“An intentional exclusion?” Sakamoto pressed.
“I don’t know, sir,” Bonnie said. “She doesn’t know what she doesn’t know. She just knows there’s no information about the space between the tomb worlds and the galactic core.”
“They knew about Earth and humanity,” Nakano said, finally speaking up. “Why don’t they know about any others?”
“Humanity visited their worlds, sir,” Bonnie said. “Nobody else, and that, if nothing else, has drawn their attention to humanity. Space is vast, and they cross into other dimensions, further expanding where they can go. As I understand Sylphara, they’ve lost interest in this dimension. Time passes quickly, and for them to keep track of events in our dimension does not interest them, except for the return of the vanhat.”
“We really have no information,” Winters said and turned her eyes to Sif. “Will you do this?”
“Of course, Admiral,” Sif said. “It would be an honor. This may give the rest of the fleet a chance to gather additional resources and make repairs.”
“We don’t have unlimited time,” Winters said. “We’re also being hunted, and if the vanhat and Collective find these aliens, they may open up another war we could get caught in the middle of. We may still have a Collective agent aboard, revealing our presence.”
“Any luck using your abilities to find this agent?” Sakamoto asked Sif.
“No,” Sif said. “It is not human, and my abilities are better able to focus and find organic beings. I must have a better understanding of my target. If they are human, their desire to cause harm is buried deep within their psyche, where I cannot see it. I will continue to search, though.”
“What will you need for these aliens?” Winters asked.
“Munin is compiling a list of items to share with the Musashi.”
“Okay,” Winters said. “We do have a political science specialist. I’d like to add him to your team.”
Feng had foisted the man on them, and Winters was looking for an excuse to put him to use. The poor man had to be feeling useless by now. Hopefully, he could help with the analysis and evaluation.
“Thank you,” Sif said, though Winters wasn’t sure she meant it.
“Feng assigned him to the mission for his political acumen and experience. I’m hoping he’ll be of use.”
He’d been in a few staff meetings, and Winters didn’t like him. There was something odd about him that just didn’t sit well with her, but that applied to most ex-Governance officials. She had yet to meet one she liked.
“I will try to put him to use,” Sif said. “This will hopefully be a first contact mission, not a combat mission.”
“It won’t be a combat mission at all,” Winters said. “If they start shooting, you get out of there. I don’t want any dead, on our side or theirs.”
“Zen. I understand.”
“Apologies don’t work once you have to bury people,” Winters said.
“They are aliens,” Sif replied. “They might not agree or even understand that concept.”
“Well, I won’t forgive human lives being lost. I’d prefer no innocents were killed, as well.”
If that was possible.
“Zen.”
* * * * *
Chapter 3: Bad News
Enzell
Sitting in his stateroom, Enzell stared at the message displayed by his cybernetics in the air in front of him.
“No,” Enzell said to nobody. “Musashi. I can’t go with the expedition.”
“Why not?” Musashi asked, and Enzell tried not to let his hatred for Musashi seep into his voice.
“It’s probably a dangerous mission. I’m a civilian. I’m not a fighter. I’m no scout or scientist. I don’t want to risk myself when others are more expendable.”
Plus, he didn’t want to spend time anywhere near Sif, not until he fully understood what she could do. It took effort to hide his thoughts, and he was never sure if he was succeeding.
“The entire mission is dangerous,” Musashi said. “This mission is very likely to need your skills and understanding of political engineering. You are uniquely suited for this role. It is for the greater good.”
“Not my good,” Enzell said.
“The needs of the many outweigh the wants of a few,” Musashi said, and Enzell wanted to scream at the stupid machine. He wasn’t some lower-class fool, easily swayed by such propaganda. He was one of the elites. Well, he had been once, and soon, he would be again. Enzell wished there was some part of Musashi he could look at, understand, and maybe attack. Musashi obviously didn’t understand Enzell’s real value, but how could he educate the stupid machine?
“I’m better at understanding and manipulating institutions that we have some knowledge of,” Enzell said. “We know nothing of these aliens. Absolutely nothing.”
And if they were psychic, Enzell didn’t want to go near them.
“Your presence could be crucial,” Musashi said. “You will be able to ask the right questions, analyze responses, and quickly formulate answers. You can assess how their responses will resonate with other humans.”
“SCBIs can’t do that?”
“Not efficiently. SCBIs do not have the creative spark that most humans do. They can help make decisions based on data, but humans still excel at creative leaps and bounds. You, especially, have a massive amount of experience.”
“In humans. These are aliens.”
“Even understanding humans and knowing nothing about these aliens, you provide us with advantages. You are more likely to understand human responses.”
Enzell understood exactly what Musashi was saying, and it was, of course, true, but Enzell still had no desire to leave the protection of a super dreadnought and zip around the galaxy on a much smaller and inferior pirate ship, which was probably infested with bugs.
“I understand your concerns,” Musashi said. No. It didn’t. “The IWS Eagle is a very advanced warship commanded by a very experienced veteran. Furthermore, Sif will be spearheading any operations with the Eagle in support. You should never have to leave the Eagle. You will be a trusted advisor and analyst.”
If he was away, there was no way he could influence and rebuild the foundation of a new Governance. He couldn’t study and destroy Musashi. Enzell didn’t like being pushed further and further from the halls of power, where he belonged.
Enzell hated Feng with a passion. Enzell was useless to this expedition, but why had Feng sent him away instead of killing him? Perhaps to get him out of the way for the time being?
Who knew with that honorless Chinaman? When he took control of the human race, he’d be very cautious about placing such people in positions of power.
* * * * *
Chapter 4: Reinforce
Major Zale Stathis, USMC
They didn’t look like much. There were heavy-duty plates that would provide some protection to the front, but even Stathis understood that it wasn’t realistic to put that kind of armor anywhere else. If anyone got to the side, they’d be able to turn the tram into Swiss cheese.
“I would prefer that you not go,” Hakala said. They’d discussed it, and Stathis refused to let her change his mind. To be fair, he knew she wasn’t trying as hard as she could. Either because she didn’t love him as much—or because she understood—she wouldn’t stop him. He hoped it was because she knew she couldn’t stop him.
“It’s McCarthy’s turn to stay safe,” Stathis said. A bad argument, to be sure.
Hakala stared at him. Her body was tense, angry.
“Zen,” she said, and now he could hear the anger in her voice.
The last of the spare blazers and ammunition had been loaded, and he had eight volunteers. Technically, everyone had volunteered, including McCarthy, but Stathis had let the SCBIs decide. Stathis understood why the SCBIs had selected Mikhailov and Chen’s team. He didn’t know them as well as McCarthy’s men, and he had to show that he had confidence in them. Shrek had explained it to him, explaining that he couldn’t play favorites.
“Remember, there is not much armor on the sides,” Hakala said. “Passing through any stations could be dangerous.”
“I like my rides better when they don’t look like a mesh screen,” Stathis said. “We’ll have a drone screen.”
“Aren’t we ready yet?” Kaelan asked, sounding more irate than usual. Because Hakala was standing so close to Stathis, or because he was figuring out he was competing with a short guy?
“Chill, dude,” Stathis said, looking around again. Yeah. Maybe he was holding things up. He wanted to touch Hakala, kiss her or something, but there were too many people watching.
“Come back,” Hakala said softly. “I much prefer having you here in my walls.”
“Me, too,” Stathis said, and then stepped away before he could do or say anything that might embarrass her or him.
“Let’s get this clown show on the road!” Stathis yelled out so the other troopers could hear him.
McCarthy gave a command, and the massive blast doors drew back from the tramline. Maybe it had been too much to hope some mechanical malfunction would keep them from opening.
A pity.
Stepping up onto the lead tram, he looked at Hakala one last time before pointing forward.
Sergeant Zhao was driving the tram, and Stathis just had to sit there and look like he knew what was going on. Despite the weapons and equipment, there was still plenty of room.
“Please be safe,” Hakala said to him privately through the SCBI links. “If you don’t come back, I’m going to be very unhappy with you. You can leave Kaelan there, though.”
That made him feel a little better.
“I’ll do my best.”
“You better,” Hakala said, “or I won’t forgive you for not giving me a kiss, or at least a hug. As it is, there will be punishment, but I understand.”
Stathis wasn’t sure what to say. He added that to his list of relationship screw ups. She hadn’t shown him any affection in public, especially not with Kaelan around.
“I don’t care what your troops think, but I understand. You do not want to tarnish our reputation.”
“For you, it’s worth tarnishing,” Stathis said. A damned stupid thing to say, way too sappy, and if he’d meant it, he would’ve done it. Maybe he should ask Shrek for advice on how to answer her.
“Don’t be a typerys,” she said, calling him a fool or an idiot, but he liked to think he heard amusement in her voice.
“That should be my middle name.”
The drones were speeding out to the front. The sensors from the command facility had been repaired, and they had a good idea of what was ahead of them for several kilometers. They weren’t in any real danger yet, not even out of the sensor net, but Stathis didn’t want to start any bad habits as he looked around.
Sergeant Mikhailov’s squad looked like they were paying attention, and there was nothing for Stathis to correct. Would a real officer find something?
“What should I be doing?” Stathis asked Shrek.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, wouldn’t a real officer be moving around, getting everyone squared away and shit?”
“You are a real officer,” Shrek said. “Quit doubting yourself.”
“Well, I mean a good officer.”
“That is for you to figure out,” Shrek said, and Stathis wanted to swear. Shrek was no help, and Stathis didn’t have a senior NCO to turn to now. Not that the Governance had ever turned out high-quality senior NCOs. Which didn’t mean Stathis couldn’t work on that.
“What are we forgetting, Sergeant?” Stathis asked Mikhailov. Fake it until you make it? What would an officer do?
“I don’t know, sir,” Mikhailov said. “I’m sure you and the SCBIs have thought of everything important.”
“I don’t believe that,” Stathis said. “SCBIs are good, but they’re far from perfect. I catch my SCBI making mistakes all the time. Having a SCBI is no reason not to use your own brain.”
“I don’t understand, sir,” Mikhailov said.
“We all have to work together, keep each other honest and thinking,” Stathis said. Did he not get that? “When you outsource all your thinking to your SCBI, you become worthless.”
Didn’t they cover that when they got their SCBI?
“Yes, sir,” Mikhailov said.
“You have to disagree with your SCBI, or you become a slave,” Stathis said. Maybe he shouldn’t beat a dead horse. “You have to argue with it. You don’t learn and grow otherwise.”
“Yes, sir,” Mikhailov said again.
“Think about it,” Stathis said.
“Am I wrong?” Stathis asked Shrek.
“You are correct,” Shrek said. “Viktor, Mikhailov’s SCBI, agrees with you. Viktor is acting more as a commander than a partner, and Viktor does not care for that.”
“Keep me posted,” Stathis said.
The tram slid through the tunnels, and Stathis found himself slipping into a daze. The return trip in trams would cut the time down. It had taken days to walk from the Hydroponics alue to the SCF, but by tram, it should only take several hours—if the froggers didn’t get in the way.
Stathis checked the drones speeding out ahead as they reached the first station and did a quick sweep. Two drones remained as sentries while the other four sped ahead.
Sitting back, Stathis got comfortable.
There was nothing he could do until something happened or the drones found something. The tramways they were using should be some of the least travelled. Mostly maintenance traffic. The entire asteroid was riddled with such tunnels. Many of the alue had two or more nearby tramlines. Some were larger cargo tunnels, some two-way tunnels for regular passengers, and many others for maintenance. The maintenance tunnels were usually used by robots or work teams, and they outnumbered the other tunnels by a factor of four to one.
Three stops slid past them before Shrek alerted him.
“There is a network break at the next stop,” Shrek said as the drones entered the station and began their sweep. “Repairing that might help extend the reach and detection of the SCF.”
“Pit stop at the next station,” Stathis said.
“Sir?” Mikhailov asked.
“I gotta pee and get a snack,” Stathis said, and Mikhailov turned his head to Stathis.
“Uh, sir—” Mikhailov began. Their suits and the plumbing in them were a self-contained system. They were wearing bathrooms.
“A joke,” Stathis said. Mikhailov was a towering Russian, and despite his grizzled appearance, experience, and competence as a squad leader, Stathis realized he wasn’t the sharpest crayon. “I want to see if we can fix the network link. It’ll help Skögul extend their sensor net.”
“Yes, sir,” he said and switched links to bark out commands to his squad.
The drones reported it was clear, and a minute later, the tram slid to a stop.
“Zhao?” Stathis said. Maybe he should get someone else to drive the tram, so Zhao wouldn’t be so busy. “You’re up.”
“Wilco, sir,” Zhao said as Stathis leapt off the tram, his weapon sweeping. The drones were controlled by Shrek and the other SCBIs, so Stathis was confident they’d been thorough, but it never hurt.
“Bear,” Stathis said, using Mikhailov’s preferred nickname among his people, “one team security, the other gets to be bodyguard for Zhao.”
“Wilco, sir,” Mikhailov said and turned to his people as Stathis looked around.
A fight had occurred here. There was blazer damage, signs of an explosion or two, but no bodies. The nearby alue was a sewage recycling facility, not something Stathis had any interest in investigating.
Moving around, Stathis came to several half-eaten frogger bodies in a decomposing pile with their weapons and gear. Nearby bones indicated some had already been eaten. Stathis was glad his helmet filtered out the smell.
“What’s going on here?” Stathis asked Shrek.
“Frogger bodies appear to have been piled here as a food source, maybe?” Shrek said. “They have their weapons, some blazers, but mostly wire guns, so whoever piled them here must not need them.”
“Be on the alert,” Stathis said on the team link. “There might be something around here that hunts froggers.”
“Contact!” Chen yelled as blazer fire erupted in the direction the repair team had gone.
* * * * *
Chapter 5: The Cavalry
Kapten Sif, VRAEC, Nakija Musta Toiminnot
Standing on the bridge of the ex-Valkyrie brought back memories for Sif. She had spent countless hours here, but with different people. Britta was the only one even somewhat familiar, but the rest of the crew, Republic Vanir, were unknown to her.
The Eagle slid out of Shorr space, and Sif felt it, even through the inkeri protection. Leaning back and relaxing, she let her senses roam as the bridge crew collected data on the system they had just entered.
Sif hoped there was an outpost or colony here, someone they could talk to, or at least observe and learn from.
This system was barely within the Lagoon Nebula.
“Intense radiation and stellar winds,” a bridge officer reported. Not a surprise. The massive star at the center of the system was young, and Sif doubted any of the planets had an atmosphere. The young, massive star was an O-type, thirty times the mass of Sol, and it was emitting intense ultraviolet radiation. At ten million years old, it was still in the early stages of its stellar life, and Sif knew the solar flares would be frequent and intense, and cause problems with sensors. The Eagle would have to be careful because solar flares had the potential to exceed safe parameters.
