“There are many things you ignore about Taar’kuun politics. Hidden forces are at work. Even if you find it hard to believe, some Taar’kuun want to make peace with humans.”
“You nuked our worlds! Don’t you think it’s a little too late for that?” Talia bit her tongue, regretting she’d said that. Her goal was to build a rapport with Jon, not antagonize him.
“What I wanted to say,” she resumed in a softer tone, “is that you’ve been manipulated by your own leaders. The Alliance is not responsible for the assassination of your chancellor. Raak’naar and his followers did that. He is the real enemy of the Taar’kuun people.”
“I know. He will pay for his crime.”
Talia raised her eyebrows. “You knew? And you did nothing to stop him? Look, maybe it’s not too late. Help us, work with us, earn the trust of our leaders. I’ll do everything I can to convince them to let you go. But first you must give me something. I’m asking for a gesture of good will. Tell me the location of the facility where the Taar’kuun detain human prisoners.”
Jon’s eyes narrowed as he pondered the offer.
“Despite everything, I still believe you’re a decent being,” she continued. “You understand compassion. Think of all those poor souls trapped in that prison. You know how it feels to be locked up, with no hope of deliverance, without knowing what’s happening outside the walls of your cell. Think of those hundreds of terrified and desperate people. You can save them.”
Jon bowed his head. “I understand. I fell in love with you for a reason, Talia. You’re the most compassionate being I ever met. I’ve missed you, and I regretted having to abandon you. I’ll give you the location of the prison.”
She nodded and turned away, holding back tears. She hated Jon for his betrayal, yet she couldn’t forget he was the first love of her life.
Kwan Kor entered the sickbay the very minute his forty-eight-hour delay expired. Talia told the colonel she had the coordinates of the secret facility.
“How do we know this cockroach isn’t lying?” Kwan Kor snapped. “We can make him talk. We can use a truth serum on him, NX-9Z.”
Talia frowned. “You know it’s lethal to the Taar’kuun. He’ll die in agony, his neurons liquefied.”
“Doctor, we count on your expertise to keep him alive long enough to extract the intel we need.”
Talia clenched her fists, resisting the temptation to punch the colonel in the mouth. “What? You want me to help you torture a prisoner? Don’t you know I took the Hippocratic Oath and swore to abstain from doing harm? How can you even ask something like that of me?”
“Then let us take him,” Kwan Kor insisted, undeterred. “Do you refuse? Are you protecting him ‘cuz of your history with him?”
Talia took a deep breath and tried to keep her calm. “I hate him for his betrayal, but I can’t let anyone torture a prisoner, not even a Biozi spy. I’m against torture, period. I’m trying to sway him to our side, and for that I need him to trust me. I believe he’s telling me the truth.”
“I’ll offer you a deal, doctor. Tell him that you and your sister will be part of the rescue op. If that doesn’t make him change his story, we’ll act on the intel.”
She was about to tell Kwan Kor he was out of his mind, that the very idea of sending a CMO into a high-risk op was insane, and she certainly didn’t want to drag her sister into this. On the other hand, both Talia and Clio were ASF officers, and the assault team would need good medics. Besides, if Ophelia was among the prisoners, Talia wanted to be there for her.
“Agreed,” she replied.
She returned to the cell, looked Jon in the eyes, and told him about her deal with Kwan Kor.
Jon’s face was serene, and he held Talia’s gaze with calm. “I gave you the correct coordinates. Take care, Talia. Good stars.”
* * *
Winsley created a special unit for sensitive missions like this rescue op, and put Captain Hunt in charge. The name of the unit was Battlegroup Vega, and it comprised a total of four warships, including the Remembrance.
DeCourt’s decision to let Talia join the mission surprised her. If he was willing to gamble with the life of his CMO, the op must have been truly important. Or maybe he was playing some political game Talia couldn’t fathom. At any rate, she made him promise that no one would harm Jon in her absence.
The battlegroup was to journey to the neighboring sector where the secret facility was located and—if Jon’s story checked out—launch a surprise attack. The very idea of taking her sister deep into enemy territory made Talia’s skin crawl, but Clio was now an officer of the Remembrance.
The journey took four days. Talia used this time to catch up with the people on the Remembrance, including Riley, who was now officially the XO. Talia learned that Jason resigned from the ASF and had narrowly escaped court martial for disobeying a direct order. He was now navigator for one of the civilian ships.
Once the battlegroup reached the target system, the ships hid in an asteroid field, and Hunt put them on standby while cloaked recon probes assessed the strength of hostile forces.
A few hours later, he called a meeting with his senior officers. “The intel seems solid,” he said. “The facility is exactly where our source told us it would be, on the fifth planet, and our probes detected human life signs. A good place for a prison, if you ask me; a lifeless planet with a toxic atmosphere and permanent electrical storms that disrupt all comms. The facility is lightly defended, maybe because the Biozi don’t think anyone would be crazy enough to assault this hellish ball of rock.”
“It could be a trap,” one of the captains said. “The Biozi might have additional troops and even ships on the surface.”
Hunt nodded. “That’s why we need to maximize the element of surprise. We go in, take out their defenses, recover the prisoners, and get out. I’m not saying this will be easy, but the admiral thinks the potential reward is worth the risk.”
Talia listened to the rest of the discussion, although the tactical details went over her head. In summary, the plan was to microjump to the planet and destroy the orbital defense station in geosynchronous orbit above the facility. Then starfighters would take out the ground-to-orbit heavy guns and other defenses, clearing the way for dropships.
After the meeting, Talia returned to sickbay. Her sister was already geared up in a protective suit.
“I’m ready,” Clio said eagerly.
“Ready for what? You’re staying right here, in this sickbay. You’re not going to the surface.”
Clio pouted. “But—”
“No buts, sis. You’re not trained for rescue ops. I’m not going either, unless necessary. In any case, I forbid you to leave this sickbay until the op is over. I’m your hierarchical superior, and I’m making it an order.”
While Clio was double checking all the medical equipment, Talia geared up, listening to the encrypted op channel. The battlegroup destroyed its targets as planned without suffering any casualties. The Remembrance took a few hits, but the carapace absorbed the damage.
During the next phase, ASF dropships reached the facility and deployed a company of marines. This phase unfolded as successfully as those previous, and the marines secured the facility in a few minutes.
“Do you have visual on the prisoners?” Hunt asked the major commanding the company.
“Negative,” the major replied. “We found humans, but they’re not high-profile prisoners. Our database labels them as collaborators.”
“Evac immediately,” the captain ordered.
Talia and Clio exchanged mortified looks.
Jon sent us into a trap! I shouldn’t have trusted that damn traitor.
“Multiple armored units on the ground,” one of the officers warned. “Converging toward the facility.”
“Biozi ships are jumping in,” another officer reported. “They’re deploying a jump inhibitor.”
“We need to retreat,” one of the captains said.
“Negative,” Hunt replied.
“We’re not leaving anyone behind. The Remembrance will land and provide covering fire to the marines.”
The ship shuddered as it descended toward the surface. Noises of the battle permeated the comm channel as marines fought to their dropships.
“Taking casualties,” a gruff voice shouted. “Our medic’s down. Need immediate evac.”
“Platoon Two’s pinned down in the main access tunnel,” said the major who commanded the strike team. “They won’t make it to the dropships.”
“Tell them to form a defensive perimeter and hold position,” Hunt ordered. “We’re sending two APCs to get them out.”
Talia hopped from her seat and started toward the door.
“What are you doing?” an alarmed Clio asked.
Talia glanced back at her. “I have to go. I’ll be careful, I promise.”
She dashed out of the sickbay before her sister could say another word, and took an autopod to the hangar bay where the armored personnel carriers—APCs—were waiting. She was familiar with this model, BA-34, designed to transport ten troopers. BA stood for Barracuda or, as the marines had nicknamed it, Bad Attitude. Talia jumped through the rear doors and took a seat. She was the only inbound passenger.
The shaking stopped, indicating the Remembrance had landed. The hangar doors parted and the APC engine growled. After a short ride, the rear doors opened, and Talia rushed out.
The marines had barricaded the corridors leading to the tunnel with crates, and they were using them for cover. Biozi troopers pressed their assault. Talia made out numerous dark shapes moving through the fog. The defense perimeter wouldn’t hold for more than a couple of minutes.
“Where’re the wounded?” she shouted to the lieutenant who commanded the platoon.
He pointed at stretchers lined up on the floor. Talia pulled out her medical scanner and examined the wounded to determine whether they could be moved. With a red marker, she drew a symbol on their helmet; a V meant the soldier could be saved, and an X identified the ones who would have to be left behind.
The marines wasted no time and carried the wounded with a V to the APCs. Her job done, Talia was about to follow them, but she stopped and glanced at the three soldiers left behind.
What if I made a mistake? What if we could still save them?
But it was too late to change her mind. The lieutenant stood before them and gave them a salute. Then he shot them in the head with his sidearm.
Talia shivered at that sight. She couldn’t blame the lieutenant though. Even if the marines survived their wounds, the Biozi would torture and execute them. A clean shot through the head was a more merciful and dignified way to go.
A marine pulled Talia inside the APC and shoved her into a seat. The vehicle started even before the doors closed. Biozi troopers poured into the tunnel and sprayed it with plasma bolts. The APC turrets whirred, propelling two blazing streams and forcing the Biozi to take cover.
The APCs raced through the tunnel toward the facility entrance. The hangar doors of the Remembrance were already in sight. In her mind, Talia was going through the procedures needed to stabilize the wounded once on board the ship.
A blast deafened her, despite the sound dampeners in her helmet.
The world turned upside down, and the APC’s roof slammed on the ground.
Everything went dark. Talia heard screams and shouts. Someone cut her seat belts and dragged her out of the APC.
A battle raged around her. The blasters of the Remembrance pounded what remained of the facility, now reduced to burning rubble. Biozi armored vehicles were converging on the ship from all directions. Above her, electric arcs crisscrossed an uninterrupted layer of dark clouds. The wind howled, so strong people could barely stay on their feet.
“Hug the rocks!” someone shouted.
Plasma bolts exploded against the wreck of the APC. Biosynthetic projectiles with corrosive liquid punched through its nanoalloy. Talia squeezed against the ground. The marine who had saved her was yelling and writhing, as the toxic atmosphere of the planet was pouring through the holes in his body suit.
“Captain, you have to take off,” Talia shouted through the op channel. “We won’t make it to the ship.”
“Talia, hang on!”
She felt a pang of panic when she saw her sister rushing through the open doors of the ship’s hangar and onto the access ramp. A marine was protecting her with a blaster-resistant shield.
“Clio, go back!” she yelled. “That’s an order!”
To no avail. Clio was running toward her, holding a medical kit. Gathering her forces, Talia stood up and sprinted toward her sister. The flat terrain offered no cover. A strong gust of wind made her lose her footing and threw her to the ground.
A plasma bolt exploded a few meters before her. When she raised her head and looked around, she saw nothing but rocks and bodies on the ground. Clio was among them.
Talia cried out, hauled herself to her feet, and staggered to her sister, who was still breathing. She grabbed a shield to protect Clio and herself from incoming fire and helped her sister to her feet.
“Cover the CMO!” Hunt shouted. “Take down those tanks. Fire everything we’ve got!”
Explosions lit the plateau as the Biozi vehicles went up in flames. Talia tossed the shield away and dragged her sister to the hangar doors, panting and moaning. Several members of the crew in protective suits rushed out of the ship to help her.
The ship took off as soon as they were all on board. The crew helped Talia and Clio to an autopod. A minute later, Clio was on an operating table in the sickbay. Talia injected her with a cardiac stimulator, hoping to stabilize her vitals, but that was all she could do. Clio suffered from a life-threatening plasma burn, and her central nervous system would shut down unless Talia performed a complex surgical operation. However, it was impossible to perform such operation in the middle of a battle.
“I’m so cold,” Clio whispered, her face pale and her eyes still.
Talia squeezed her hand. “I know. You’ll make it, I promise. We’ll make it to Neo together, you’ll see. I’ve heard it’s a beautiful world. Gorgeous beaches, stunning sunsets…”
The corners of Clio’s lips lifted in a weak smile. “I’d love to see that.”
“Yes, I’m sure you’ll love it.”
The ship was shaking and jolting, probably taking heavy fire.
“Battlegroup, formation zeta-four,” Hunt ordered. “Priority: intercept ordnance. Suppressive fire at will. Shields and stasis fields to maximum.”
Talia’s medical scanner beeped, warning her that her sister was about to flatline.
She called Hunt on his direct channel. “Captain, Clio is critical. Please activate a stasis pod.”
“Negative,” he replied. “You know my policy—no stasis pods during battle.”
“Captain, I can save her,” Talia implored him. “I just need one pod.”
“I’m sorry, doctor. I need every drop of energy to get us out of this bloody mess.”
A bloody mess I’ve caused by trusting the word of a traitor, Talia thought, staring at her sister who was dying on the operating table.
* * *
Four days later, Battlegroup Vega rejoined the Alliance fleet, and Talia returned to the sickbay on the Capitol. Jon was still there, unharmed.
She entered the cell and sat next to him on the bunk.
“I’m happy to see you, Talia,” he said. “From your expression, I take it the rescue op didn’t go according to plan.”
She stared at the floor. “It was a massacre. Without Hunt’s tactical genius, the entire battlegroup would’ve been wiped out. But I’ve lost Clio. She was gravely injured and I couldn’t save her. I watched her die.”
“I’m so sorry.” There seemed to be genuine compassion in Jon’s voice. “Did you rescue the prisoners?”
Talia shook her head in silence. She felt exhausted, drained of energy.
“They must’ve moved the prisoners to another facility,” Jon sa
id.
Talia turned to him. Anger ignited deep inside her mind and welled to the surface, overwhelming any conscious thought.
She thrust a laser syringe into Jon’s neck.
A part of her was terrified by what she was doing, by the raw rage that pervaded her mind. She stared Jon in the eyes as her thumb pressed the button of the syringe, forcing a lethal dose of NX-9Z into his veins.
“There were no prisoners at that facility,” she hissed through her teeth. “We’ve downloaded its database. We know you lied.”
Jon opened his mouth, his bulging eyes staring back at her. “You can’t do that,” he gasped. “Your Hippocratic Oath…”
She threw the empty syringe against a wall in a feat of rage. “Guards, call Colonel Kor and tell him to get this piece of garbage out of my sickbay,” she shouted.
Jon collapsed on the floor, writhing in pain as the drug was making its way from the bloodstream into his central nervous system. “Talia, please,” he rasped. “I saved you and Clio three years ago. I loved you. I still care about you. I—”
“And you sent us to our deaths,” Talia spit.
She turned around and walked out of the sickbay. Jon cried for help, implored her to inject him with an antidote, but she ignored him. In her mind, Jon was already dead.
Adrian Darus called her. He told her he was worried about her and wanted to meet.
“Sorry, Adrian. Not today. I just need to be alone.”
She went to her quarters and locked the door. Her memory brought back Kwan Kor’s words, “There is darkness in you, Dr. Galen, hidden deep inside your soul. Just a drop maybe, but it’s there. You’ll discover it sooner than you think, this inner darkness. Only then you’ll be ready to be my confidant.”
Part Three: Jason Blaze
15
Metamorphosis
Six months after the Retroforming, somewhere on the edge of charted space
Jason’s story starts a bit like The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka. Like Gregor Samsa, the protagonist in Kafka’s novella, Jason Blaze woke up one morning and discovered he’d been changed. Unlike Gregor Samsa, however, Jason had been changed not from human to a bug, but from a Taar’kuun to a human.
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