Aurora Renegades

by G. S. Jennsen

  She nodded. And she did seem a little better. Her eyes were sharper—and now her own—and her gaze was a little more here.

  Right now he would take what he could get. “Come on. We all need to stay together.”

  He took her hand and together they hurried back to the others, who they found mostly sitting against the walls in the hallway. Someone had found a med kit and was tending to the wounded.

  Mia flashed him a harried smile. “Morgan and Harper are on it—Morgan from above, Harper below. Soon the sniper is going to be way too busy to worry about us.”

  “Good. But there may be more than one, so nobody goes near a window. Are the building defenses holding?”

  “On the ground level, yes. I’m told we’re actually gaining traction on the street protesters.”

  He exhaled, relieved the situation appeared to once again be under control, for the moment.

  Alex made a noise beside him; in another life it would’ve been a chuckle. “Devon, you showed some nice moves out there. You’ve picked up impressive skills.”

  He scowled. “Not really. Your mind can inhabit a spaceship. That’s far more noteworthy than a few hand-to-hand tricks.”

  An uncomfortable silence loomed heavy in the air despite the distant sounds of chaos outside. Finally Devon huffed a breath. “I’m guessing that wasn’t the most appropriate thing to say in this crowd. Forgive me, I’m a bit off my game on account of Abigail being dead.”

  Mia leaned across someone Caleb didn’t know to put a hand on his knee. “Devon—”

  “No, it’s cool. Let’s concentrate on the shit-show outside.”

  Yes, let’s. Caleb drew Mia’s attention to him. “Listen, there’s something you need to know, because it impacts what’s happening on the ground and your response to it. One of the attackers at Dr. Canivon’s apartment was Alliance military. Likely special forces.” He felt Alex flinch beside him at the mention of the murder scene.

  “What? How the hell did I miss that?”

  He squeezed Alex’s hand but looked to Devon, the source of the outburst. “You were focused on defending yourself. Understandable. I recognized the tactical vest design and the blade hilt on one of the bodies—both standard issue Alliance MSO gear.”

  Mia gaped at him in disbelief. “Are you saying the Alliance military is working with OTS? On Romane soil? Have they lost all reason?”

  “I’m saying one of the people who killed Dr. Canivon was Alliance military, but covert. And right now, that is all I’m saying.”

  Devon groaned and banged the back of his head into the wall. “Alerting Morgan to the fact she may not be dealing with simple terrorists.”

  “Now they tell us.” Harper grumbled as she checked the body at her feet. Oh, surprise of surprises, he wore Marine gear.

  She didn’t want to think about the fact a few months ago he might have been a colleague, but for chance, a fellow squad member. Now he was here. He had tried to kill her, because he was following orders, and she had killed him in return.

  He could have refused those orders. Malcolm Jenner refused them. Others refused them. This man’s actions were not wholly excusable…but they were understandable.

  And now was not the time to be waxing poetic. She stood and motioned three members of her team ahead to clear the next hallway.

  Commander Lekkas: Sniper down. Watch for fleeing comrades.

  HarperRF: Affirmative. Chase them to us.

  She paused to check the status of her people on the ground and came away pleased. It was close to being over. Romane’s jails were going to be crowded, but the rioters were being moved off the streets and dispersed or arrested.

  The echo of pounding footsteps got her attention. Time to spring another trap.

  She and the team members with her activated their cloaking shields—Veils. The qualitative difference was so great between the personal cloaking shields the RRF enjoyed and those used by the Alliance and Federation militaries and everyone else, Mia had decided the new technology needed a name to distinguish it. ‘Veil’ had stuck.

  The ensuing encounter with the fleeing terrorists—or Marines—wasn’t a fair contest, really. Which was fine, as no one who conducted it had ever claimed warfare should be fair. Her team knocked the two fleeing combatants off their feet as they rounded the corner and subdued them without incident. They didn’t see their subduers until after the restraints were firmly in place.

  She surveyed the new prisoners’ gear critically. It was blatantly Alliance-issue. Goddammit! Winslow and Fullerton were playing dirty. She didn’t feel as bad for the unfair advantage the Veils presented now.

  She jerked her head down the hall. “Pello, Odaka, check the upper floors and make sure nobody’s turtled up waiting for us to leave. Verela, take this guy downstairs.”

  Once they disappeared she lifted the other prisoner off the ground and shoved him—no, her—against the wall. “Any chance you want to talk to me about your orders?”

  The Marine’s mouth set into a firm line as she stared silently at Brooklyn.

  “Yeah. Didn’t think so. But I know a few things about black ops and plausible deniability. The IDCC obviously doesn’t have an extradition treaty—or any kind of treaty—with the Earth Alliance. As of a few weeks ago, neither does Romane. The only way you’re getting home is if your prime minister gets kicked out of office and on Admiral Solovy’s recommendation the next one makes nice with us. Though if that happens, you might not want to go home.” She shrugged. “Tough spot to be in.”

  She acknowledged Pello and Odaka’s update of an all-clear on the two floors above then propelled the prisoner forward toward the lift. “You can think it over in a cell. Eventually, though, if you haven’t piped up and given us some useful intel, I’ll send my Prevo girlfriend in to melt your brain with her mind until it spills out your ears. That’s what you’ve been told they do, right?

  “You should be aware, they’re still figuring out how some of the details work, so it’ll take a while to kill you. Hurts like a motherfucker, too. And the mess….” She wrinkled her nose. “Liquefied brain matter looks like curdled lentil soup—”

  “Wait, wait!”

  Seriously, this made the Marine break? Did she believe her mom’s stories of the boogeyman in the closet, too? “I’m listening.”

  “I didn’t sign up to die for Winslow.”

  In point of fact, you did. But Brooklyn wasn’t about to correct her now. “Of course you didn’t. Is that who sent you? The prime minister herself? What was your mission?”

  “The orders came from…they came from Admiral Fullerton, but everyone knows Winslow is controlling the military these days—or the part of the military not loyal to Admiral Solovy. Our orders were to take out as much of the IDCC leadership as possible, but our number one priority was the Prevo, Mia Requelme.”

  “See, now, that wasn’t so hard.” She saved the recorded confession in a priority folder in her eVi.

  “For what it’s worth, my girlfriend wasn’t actually going to melt your brain. Probably could if she wanted to, though.”

  20

  ROMANE

  * * *

  “Bugger it all, pull our people out. No, not the chav street protesters, our people. Get them back here.”

  Jude Winslow ran a hand through his hair and glowered out the windows of the safe house.

  The fires were going out. Once radiant in the flames of his destructive power, the cityscape now began to quiet. Far too many lights in the darkness remained lit, but they were ordinary lights, the universal sign of safety. Of peace.

  The balance of power had shifted. The IDCC forces were beating his people back, albeit with a lot of help from the Romane civil service.

  Romane burnt, but it would not burn to the ground. Not this night.

  Dammit, he’d hoped for an outright, unmitigated victory here tonight. He’d hoped to tear down the shining towers of this haughty little colony. But now he forced himself to step away and objectively evaluate t
he situation.

  One of his two highest value targets was dead: win. Dr. Abigail Canivon had created her last monstrosity. Her death came at the cost of several of his best mercenaries and two of his mother’s military operatives, but it was worth the cost.

  But none of the three primary Prevo targets had been eliminated—no, four targets. Word reached him earlier that Alexis Solovy had returned to the game board. It would please him a great deal to end her life, nearly as much as it would please his mother to end her mother’s.

  The younger Solovy wasn’t part of this Prevo rebellion—she’d allegedly been off wreaking her own havoc elsewhere—but according to what he’d learned from his mother’s Project Noetica files, she was the one who had begun all this madness. Now that she was here, she represented a threat. And she lived, along with the rest.

  Along with Devon Reynolds. Simply thinking the name caused him to grind his teeth in disgust.

  The offices of Galaxy First, Total Chemical Solutions and Choung Pharmaceuticals had been destroyed or severely damaged, and their Artificials with them. Multiple lesser targets had been hit to some degree of success as well.

  On the other hand, the IDCC forces proved to be more formidable than expected. Manifestly so, as they were now…winning. Proof of their power, and thus of the danger Prevos posed to all humanity.

  Before the offensive had begun, he’d walked the streets in the light of day. They had stunk of Prevos. The abominations clogged the sidewalks. One in a hundred? One in fifty? It had made him want to bolt for Earth, noble cause be damned.

  But he knew if they lost here, Earth would never be safe. So he persevered.

  Then there was Seneca. The cowards had sided with the abominations, kowtowing to their corporations with their influential Artificials and deadly new toys. Proof they should never have been allowed to govern themselves.

  And they would pay for their choice.

  As the straggling remains of his more useful people here on Romane began arriving at the safe house in twos and threes, he checked in on the state of affairs on Seneca.

  Faith, what’s your teams’ status at the Parliament building?

  Twiddling their thumbs while looking threatening. My bet is the authorities will be sending in assassins or worse soon, though. I’m itching for an endgame here.

  The time for brinkmanship was over.

  When they raid the Senatorial offices, blow the other location.

  The whole building?

  Do you have sufficient charges to blow the whole building?

  We do.

  Then fucking blow it.

  Can I at least get clear first? Wait, never mind. I’m done asking. I’m going to get clear first. Then I’ll blow it.

  Well she was getting a mite cheeky of late. He’d need to deal with the insubordination at some point, but there were pressing concerns of greater importance at present—like how he was going to get clear of this mess.

  SENECA

  Cavare

  Intelligence Division Headquarters

  “Our teams are in position, Director. Ready to move on your order.”

  Graham didn’t hesitate. The OTS terrorists’ sole demand, nullification of the H+ law, was not going to happen, and no one expected the terrorists to accept it, lay down their weapons and wait to be arrested. “Go.”

  He watched the live cam feeds from the two team leads in a split screen as they breached the Parliament building. The intent was to disable those with the guns before they could kill their hostages in retaliation. Disabling them instantly was preferable, but the only way to do that was to disable everyone in the rooms where the terrorists held the hostages.

  He assumed the senators would forgive him the order if it meant their lives were saved in the process.

  Two agents accessed the service ducts feeding into the rooms the old-fashioned way—by crawling through them. Once they reached a proximity where the effect could be limited to the targeted areas, they injected a potent nervous system suppressor into the rooms via the ventilation system.

  The terrorists—and the hostages—lost fine motor control in less than two seconds. Guns dropped from hands; everyone stumbled; most fell to the floor.

  The next second the incursion teams blew the doors. Flashbangs preceded their entry. The cumulative detonations created chaos and an eruption of confusion. There were a few brief tussles, but the agents had the advantage from the first move.

  It was all over in less than ten seconds. Two rooms, two teams, no casualties.

  Graham exhaled in relief. What could have been a catastrophe instead became a clean win—

  An emergency alert flashed across his vision from Tessa/Cleo.

  Multiple explosive devices targeting Military Headquarters. Remote detonation, projectile delivery systems staged at building perimeter. Recommend immediate underground evacuation.

  Eleni received the alert the same time Graham did, as the Prevo had co-opted the entire government security network to broadcast it.

  Her gut reaction was skepticism. It seemed unlikely anyone from OTS would succeed in hiding explosive devices near the complex. But the stakes were far too high for caution or hesitation, so she instantly initiated covert evacuation procedures.

  No alarms rang out as the staff began moving to the bunker beneath the massive building. From outside, where any OTS spotters must be, nothing would appear untoward. It should buy them some time to get people to safety.

  The security MPs went on alert and prepared to sweep the surrounding blocks, but Eleni ordered them to hold until the staff had reached safety below ground, as such a move stood to spook anyone watching.

  She left her office and strode quickly but calmly through the halls toward the security office, where she would be able to keep better tabs on developments. On her way she continued to monitor the evacuation progress and study the incoming cam feeds on a whisper—

  Graham saw the cascading explosions from the window of his office on the top floor of Division. Military Headquarters was located over five kilometers away, but the flames roared upward to consume the skyline.

  He sank into his chair in shock. Had the hostage-taking at Parliament been a feint the whole time, a diversion to distract police and other security personnel? If so, it had worked like a charm.

  Bloody hell! The warning had come hardly a minute before the strike. No way had more than a few dozen people made it to safety.

  The complex was heavily fortified, though, with sturdy, reinforced walls and a number of mitigation features in its design. Perhaps the destruction hadn’t been total. Perhaps rescue personnel would find many survivors.

  His gaze drifted back to the window, where the horizon already darkened from billowing plumes of smoke and debris.

  Sure, and perhaps Medusa had just been a lonely, misunderstood spinster in need of a spa day.

  INTERMEZZO III

  AMARANTHE

  Eridium II

  System 4A-CC57

  The path data in the rodent’s ship had been gibberish, but beneath it lay an interpreter, and beneath the interpreter lay standardized, properly formatted Communis Coordinates.

  Conclusion #4: The species which assisted the native population is an Accepted Species.

  This conclusion would have severe consequences for the Accepted Species, but all in due time.

  Aver ela-Praesidis arrived at the first set of coordinates and found nothing but empty space. However, attached to the coordinates was a quite specific signal wave frequency. He created the wave.

  A ring opened directly in front of him. Judging by the plasma wall it enclosed, the gateway the ring created was inter-dimensional in nature—a wormhole across a distance at a minimum, but also possibly a dimensional bridge.

  His search of the Annals of Artificial Spatial Objects for similar configurations retrieved a match to Katasketousya technology. Specifically, their Provision Network gateways.

  A secondary signal followed the triggering signal wave. He activ
ated it as well, but detected no physical change in the object or the surroundings. A passcode, then. He accelerated through the gateway.

  New space, unconnected to the sector where he’d been an instant before, awaited him on the other side.

  It remained a three dimensional physical space, however, and was unpopulated save for an ordered series of low frequency wave patterns. He quickly determined the frequency of one of the waves matched details in the next set of data he’d extracted from the rodent’s ship.

  He followed it to its termination point and sent the accompanying signal.

  A smaller ring appeared, this one clearly enclosing a dimensional bridge.

  Interesting.

  He considered returning now to report the Katasketousya to the Praesidis Primor as the offending Accepted Species. But as an ela rank he had a degree of freedom of action and license to pursue new avenues of inquiry an investigation generated.

  Instead he recorded an update in his local file for later transmission and traversed this new portal.

  Assignment Designation: I-4617-D883-J955

  Interim Mission Update: The resident species was sent to a wormhole gateway/dimensional bridge located in the outer heliosphere region of System 4A-CC57. The gateway leads to the Katasketousya Provision Network.

  I am investigating the Provision Network more closely (i) in search of the current location of the remaining population of the species native to 4A-CC57 and (ii) to uncover evidence of the extent of the Katasketousya malfeasance.

  — Aver ela-Praesidis

  Inquisitor 9166Æ, 47th Astyn Lineage, 9th Epoch Proper

  PART IV:

  GRAVITATIONAL COLLAPSE

  “The danger lies in refusing to face the fear, in not daring to come to grips with it. If you fail anywhere along the line, it will take away your confidence. You must make yourself succeed every time. You must do the thing you think you cannot do.”