by M. D. Cooper
She could tell they didn’t like it, but an ISF Marine in light armor—which was the case for this squad—was still a formidable force. Especially considering that they still carried their lightwands, and their armored forearms held pulse weapons.
Rama led the group through the Deepening Night, a twelve hundred meter cruiser. It was one of a dozen such ships in the battle group of sixty vessels that had met the Andromeda and its destroyer escort when it settled into its orbit around Genesis.
Corsia suspected that the IPE military was trying to cow her with a show of force, but after the recent battles she’d participated in, sixty ships barely seemed like enough for a policing action.
The Deepening Night seemed relatively modern—by Inner Stars standards—though the pinnace’s scan had shown that their power plants generated a far lower output than the ISF ships. They wouldn’t be able to run their beams for an extended engagement.
Corsia’s tactical assessment determined that the Andromeda alone could disable half the IPE ships within ten minutes.
The one thing she did like about their ships was the quality they exhibited. The designs were sound, the engines more than powerful enough to maneuver in a fight, while still being well-protected by ablative armor.
Each cruiser sported three railguns and a host of beam weapons. She suspected that they were more than a match for any enemies that the IPE was likely to face, this deep in its domain.
Rama made small talk—pointedly ignoring Kendrik—asking innocuous questions about events outside the cluster’s slow zone, and was visibly surprised by a few answers Corsia provided, such as the attacks on Thebes, and even the fall of the Kendo Empire in the rimward fringes of the slow zone.
Once or twice, Rama made comments that led Corsia to believe she was nervous, but it was hard to be certain.
Corsia replied.
Within a few minutes, they reached an unassuming door, and Rama turned to Corsia. “Please direct your escort to remain out here.”
Corsia nodded, and Commander Eve gestured for the ISF Marines to take up positions in the corridor. IPE Marines took up flanking positions, and Corsia couldn’t help but notice that the ISF fireteam was wound tight—ready to spring into action.
Good.
The door slid open, and Rama led the ISF delegation into a briefing room that had been repurposed for the meeting, half-filled with a large table.
Across the table sat President Arthur, who rose slowly, his eyes steely as they swept across the group, landing on his brother.
“Kendrik. You have no idea how happy I am to see you. Last update we had, you were settling down in the Theban Alliance.”
“That’s correct, brother,” Kendrik returned the smile his brother had given—neither having reached their eyes. “About eighty years ago. I was just establishing my trade routes there.”
“And yet here you are,” Arthur replied, turning to Corsia. “With these rather interesting visitors.”
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us,” Corsia said with as warm a smile as she could muster. “We have a proposal that I believe you will be very interested in hearing.”
President Arthur gestured for everyone to sit. The ISF delegation sat with their backs to the door, while Rama and Larson walked around the table to sit on either side of the president.
“I’m not sure I have much choice other than to hear it,” the president said, his tone unreadable. “You’ve been very…persuasive, I suppose is the right word.”
“Yes, thank you for working through a rather tricky introduction,” Corsia replied, avoiding the president’s implications. “As I’m sure Colonel Hickson informed you, things are changing outside of the cluster, and we’d like to form an alliance with you that will strengthen the Inner Praesepe Empire, and establish direct trade with systems outside the cluster.”
“Namely Thebes and Septhia,” Arthur replied, his voice not giving away what he thought of either group.
“Thebes, mostly,” Kendrik said while pouring himself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table. “I’ll be using the resources we trade for to build a fleet that we’ll use to defend Thebes against the Nietzscheans, and then sell to the Septhians.”
“So you’ll use our resources to build up the militaries of other nations?” Larson asked, a scowl settling on his brow. “That’s not very patriotic of you, Mister Kendrik.”
“Indeed,” Arthur said, nodding slowly. “If you have these jump gates, why not allow us to build the ships, and then send them to you? This seems like a better solution for the people of the IPE.”
“That is certainly not out of the question,” Terrance said, his voice calm and soothing. “In fact, I can imagine a shipbuilding facility here in the IPE would be both very secure and efficient. However, from what I understand, it would take some years to establish that capability with your technological level. Kendrik has the facilities in the Theban Alliance to hit the ground running; we just need a steady supply of resources to feed his production.”
“Is that what you hope to achieve here, brother?” Arthur asked. “You want to enrich yourself at the IPE’s expense?”
“Expense would be the exact opposite of what will happen,” Kendrik replied, his voice carrying a slight strain as he responded to his brother. “There are many technologies that the IPE could benefit from. Not just military. Medical, life expectancy, entertainment, construction, excellent coffee, there is much we could trade.”
Rama seemed unconvinced. “I don’t see how that will benefit us in the face of the types of threats you have implied are out there. You mentioned that the Nietzscheans have their eyes on the easily accessible resources in the cluster, and that they could have these jump gates before long. If we export all of our resources and get little in return, how will we defend ourselves against threats without and within the cluster? For all we know, those threats could already be present.”
Terrance, and then Kendrik, addressed Rama’s concerns, offering solutions and examples of technologies that could bolster the IPE. Their explanations seemed to mollify Rama, but not President Arthur or Secretary Larson.
Building up the uncertain feeling Corsia was developing, something about Rama’s tone and her responses seemed off. As she discussed defensive options with Kendrik, the minister made statements that seemed to imply existing threats already within the cluster.
Twice, her eyes had ticked to the left, toward the president and Secretary Larson—though neither of them gave any indication that her words had a double meaning.
Corsia had to resist the urge to physically nod.
n’t help but notice that Arthur and Larson didn’t seem overly impressed, while Rama’s eyes were wide.
Corsia was about to join in the conversation, offering the possibility of tactical training for the IPE space force, when Sephira’s voice came back into her mind.
Corsia felt a shiver run down her spine.
While Kendrik outlined a process for setting up improved shipyards in the IPE, Corsia brought Terrance up to speed.
Corsia got a feeling of ambivalent acknowledgement from Terrance.
Terrance sounded entirely blasé as he continued to speak with President Arthur about trade options. One of the three people across the table had a piece of an ascended being inside of them, and from what Nance had been able to do when she was under the Caretaker’s control, that person might be able to kill all of them.
With surprising ease, Terrance steered the conversation toward a break, and the IPE delegation agreed. The president rose and left the room, while Rama and Larson remained.
A nervous look crossed Rama’s face, then she quickly schooled her expression once more.
Corsia eyed Rama, considering the woman’s words, then glanced at Larson, who was in the back of the room, filling a plate with snacks.
A laugh flowed across the link from Eve.
Corsia had been thinking about them, too.
Corsia updated Terrance with the plan, then turned her gaze to Kendrik, who was speaking with Rama by the coffee carafe, extolling the virtues of brews from outside the cluster.
She considered telling him what was about to happen, but decided to hold off. While Kendrik was not likely to be a double agent, he may not be able to handle the news that his brother was possessed by the remnant of an ASAI.
He’d just have to figure things out as they happened.
Several minutes later, the president returned and resumed his place across the table. He didn’t speak, but his arrival signaled the resumption of the talks.
Rama had just launched into a listing of considerations that would need to be made, when Eve began to count down.
Behind the ISF delegation, the door burst open and, seconds later, slammed shut once more. Then a strange hum filled the air, and President Arthur leapt to his feet.
“What! What are you doing?” he stammered, staring at the business end of a weapon, seemingly floating in mid-air next to Corsia.
“This is called a shadowtron. We’re drawing you out,” Corsia informed the remnant. “There’s nothing you can do about it.”
The group watched in a combination of horror and transfixed wonder, as strands of glowing light began to emanate from President Arthur, and coalesce into a ball that was then pulled toward the weapon.
“What in the star’s light is that?” Rama managed to ask after a moment.
“It’s a part of an ascended AI,” Terrance replied calmly as he watched the orb float through the air. “It—”
Suddenly, Larson leapt across the table, grabbing the shadowtron and wrenching it from the stealthed ISF Marine’s hands.
The IPE secretary was about to throw the weapon to the ground when he was struck by an invisible force. Corsia rose and made a grab for the shadowtron, only to be thrown against the wall as President Arthur hurled himself at her.
The impact startled her, and it took Corsia a moment to re-orient herself. During that time, she picked up the sounds of combat in the corridor outside.
President Arthur closed with her, and Corsia grappled with the man, watching from the corner of her eye as Eve moved Terrance and Kendrik away from the fight.
“That’s an interesting toy,” the president said in an otherworldly voice. “I look forward to seeing how it works after I subsume your mind—”
Suddenly the man’s words cut off, and a look of puzzlement came over his face. Corsia took advantage of the opportunity to pivot to the side and drive her foot into the president’s jaw, sending his body flying across the room to slam into the bulkhead.
Corsia glanced behind her to see that the two stealthed Marines had managed
to wrest the shadowtron away from Larson, but she could tell the weapon was ruined.
“You’re no human…” Larson hissed, and Corsia realized that was what had confused the president a moment ago. “Clever trick with the fake brain.”
Corsia’s suspicion that Larson also was possessed by a remnant solidified into certainty. “Yeah, well you weren’t exactly being honest, either.”
Behind them, the door slid open, and one of the Marines leaned in. “Ma’am? We need to go!”
Backing away from Larson, Corsia pulled the feeds from the soldiers in the corridor, noting that one was down, a hole burned through his head, and the other two were firing down the passageway at a group of enemies who had taken cover in the doorways of other rooms.
“Grab the shadowtron,” she ordered the Marines who had breached the room, and the group backed out of the room, the Marines shielding Terrance and Kendrick.
For a moment, Rama looked uncertainly at the slumped form of the president, then glanced at Larson’s seething visage. Without a word, she dashed out of the room and joined the ISF group, her eyes wide as she glanced at Corsia.
“What the hell just happened in there?”
“I’ll explain later,” Corsia replied, grabbing a weapon from a fallen IPE soldier. “We’re leaving. You coming?”
Rama nodded silently, and the group retreated down the corridor, the Marines laying down suppressive fire until they rounded a corner and picked up the pace, moving back toward the docking bay.
“Your shuttle,” Rama said breathlessly. “They’ll destroy it.”
“They’ll try,” Terrance replied with a laugh as he fired his pilfered weapon at an IPE Marine that had dashed across the intersection ahead of them.
The shot caught the enemy in the knee, locking up the joint and toppling the soldier.
Corsia shot him a questioning look, and Terrance shrugged. “I wasn’t always a businessman. Well…I guess I was, but I went on a few ops back in the day.”
“That’s not in your record,” Eve said as she sprayed a hail of bullets behind the group, keeping their pursuers at a distance.
“It was a thousand years before the Intrepid set out,” Terrance replied. “Not everything makes it into the record…and not all the records last.”