Aurora Rising: The Complete Collection

by G. S. Jennsen

  She frowned. “I agree it does seem rather ridiculous. But I’ve learned not to underestimate the sheer idiocy of government bureaucrats.”

  “Exactly. Politicians can be counted on to make rash, short-sighted decisions.” His pace regained speed, purpose now animating his steps between the kitchen table and the couch.

  Curious, she watched—again—and waited, until his gaze returned to her. “Look, the information I see is as close to the raw, unvarnished truth as you can get. It is not propaganda and it is not sugar-coated and it says my government did not assassinate the Trade Minister.”

  She blew out a harsh breath. She wasn’t eager to rehash the earlier argument, but she also didn’t intend to give in. “Well one of your government officials did.”

  “Yes. Granted. And maybe he was simply a lone crazy and that’s all there is to it. But then the Alliance blows up a farming colony, except they say they didn’t—and you’re right, it is out of character for them. And now in a matter of days—far too quickly for cooler heads to prevail—we’ve gone from improving relations to all-out war. And I have to wonder if anyone has stopped reacting long enough to ask why.”

  The world had flipped upside down upon the sight of the invading alien army, and once more at the revelation of this nascent war. Did that make things right-side up again? For a moment she couldn’t decide if he was a genius or delusional—or whether she even remained capable of telling the difference. “You think someone is manipulating events in order to provoke a war? You might be a tiny bit paranoid.”

  “I know. I’m just suggesting that coming into this from the outside it appears damn suspicious. Which brings us back around to the question, why now?”

  She suddenly felt an intense desire to get off the crazy train and return to reality, such as it was. “It’s possible the Trade Summit provided the first real opportunity. Or perhaps the answer to ‘why now’ is the Summit. There are plenty of people in the Alliance, and I imagine plenty on your side, too, who don’t want better relations between Earth and Seneca.”

  He seemed to still, as if all the energy of his movements came to rest within him. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

  The sharpness of his gaze speared into her. It left her feeling naked and exposed, but she refused to look away. “I didn’t say that. I only…Caleb, I don’t want war. I never did.” She swallowed. “Well not for a long time now anyway.”

  He smiled with unexpected softness. His eyes softened to match, transforming his expression to one of gentleness. “Okay.”

  His shoulders rose in a weak shrug. “And you’re probably right. It makes more sense for the Summit to be the trigger, and not anything to do with the aliens. It nonetheless means something’s fishy. We’re walking into an even bigger mess than we thought—and we’re about to toss a bomb into the middle of it.”

  32

  SENECA

  CAVARE

  * * *

  MICHAEL PULLED THE COLLAR of his jacket up to his ears as he exited the restaurant. A cold front had moved in over the course of the afternoon, and the night air now carried a stinging chill.

  Nonetheless, he chose to walk the dozen blocks back to Division HQ. He needed the brief solitude—if one considered being surrounded by hundreds of pedestrians going about their business solitude—to get his head focused in the right direction. The dinner had been a brief but necessary departure from work, if only to make sure his father was doing well. Which he was. His father perpetually insisted Michael didn’t need to worry over him; it never stopped him from doing so.

  With the arrival of hostilities—a full-on war as of this evening—his teams were being pulled off the Summit investigation and re-tasked toward Alliance missions. Pretty much everything about the assassination still struck him as wrong, but he tried to convince himself it hardly mattered now. Events were moving fast; before long the assassination would be merely a footnote as the incident which kicked off a series of incidents which kicked off another war.

  Though he had a few people embedded in the Alliance infrastructure and its periphery, for the most part such long-term espionage missions fell under the purview of other sections of Division. Special Operations tended to undertake focused, directed actions in lieu of passive spying. Going forward those actions were to be targeted at Alliance interests. He bore no particular ill will toward the Alliance or its citizens as a rule, but war was war—and the visuals of Palluda were certainly disturbing enough to stir up a case of righteous indignation.

  He wove through the crowd materializing when a levtram arrived and its passengers disembarked. For the moment, life continued on as normal in Cavare, and the streets thrummed with citizens working, playing and transitioning between—

  His eVi signaled an incoming livecomm request from Caleb Marano. Huh. In the chaos which had been the last week he’d had no chance to wonder about the Metis Nebula mission. He started to put the agent off…but once he got to the office he expected to again be overwhelmed for many hours.

  “Agent Marano, it’s good to hear from you. As soon as you can get back to Seneca, your services will definitely be in demand.”

  “The war, of course. We’ll talk about it in a bit, but I’m afraid there’s a larger problem.”

  His pace slowed. “Larger than a war? You found something in Metis?”

  “You could say so. I found an army.”

  “An army? I’m going to need you to be more specific.”

  “A sizeable army of alien warships gathering. I’m sending a few visuals.”

  “Now is not the time for—” An image of a tentacled ship of obsidian metal with a red glowing core appeared on his whisper. It was followed by one showing an uncountable number of identical such vessels docked in rows along the hull of a massive—there was no scale reference, but he sensed it was massive—carrier ship. A final image pulled out to reveal dozens of such carrier ships.

  He came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the sidewalk, hardly noticing as pedestrians jostled against him then continued on their way. “I sincerely hope you are joking.”

  “Would that I were. I—”

  “Are you seriously telling me an alien civilization is hiding in the Metis Nebula, and we’ve somehow missed this fact until now?”

  “Not exactly. There’s no signs of an actual civilization. You can see a large portal ring behind the ships in the last image—they’re coming through it.”

  “From where?”

  “No idea. Perhaps from some other region of the galaxy, or another galaxy. Perhaps from somewhere else. For obvious reasons it wasn’t feasible to approach close enough to determine much with respect to the portal.”

  He exhaled, long and slow. Things were never simple, were they? His job often required him to adapt quickly to rapidly changing circumstances, but damn. “Do you have any hard data on the ships or their inhabitants? These visuals are powerful, but as you can imagine our superiors are currently rather preoccupied. I could use some additional data to attract their attention.”

  “I do. I’m sending a full report detailing all the findings to your account.”

  “Excellent.” He resumed walking, albeit at a reduced pace. “What kind of numbers are we talking about? Does the last image constitute the entire force?”

  “The larger ships were still emerging through the portal when I left. I didn’t want to risk detection before getting this information out—hmm. The report bounced. It’s being blocked.”

  “Really? We’ve strengthened the defense grid on account of the conflict, but your ship’s authorized so transmissions from it should be allowed.”

  “Well…I’m not on my ship.”

  “Where are you?”

  “On a civilian vessel.”

  “Agent Marano, did you blow up another ship?”

  A notable pause. “Not intentionally.”

  He groaned. The man’s reputation was unmatched in Division; he had a fifteen-year-plus record of successful missions, including several
no one should have been able to pull off. But he was proving to be a tad expensive. “Division’s resources are not unlimited. You realize this.”

  “I do, sir. It was unavoidable.”

  “I’m sure it was. You said you were on a civilian ship?”

  “Yes. It is registered under an Alliance designation though.”

  “I imagine there’s quite a story—” He frowned as an unwelcome possibility occurred to him. “You’re not being held under any coercion, are you?”

  “No, it’s nothing like…no, sir.” He thought he detected a trace of amusement in the response.

  “Well civilian or not, chances are it’ll still be blocked. We can’t risk remote electronic attacks so the defenses are casting a wide net.” He paused. While not officially sanctioned, the use of comm scramblers was at times a necessity in their line of work. “You don’t have any method of sending from a different designation?”

  There was a longer pause this time, as if the matter was under discussion. “No, sir. Not at this time. Can you obtain a waiver? I can provide the ship’s serial number designation if necessary.”

  “I can, but I’ll need to certify it Level IV. Is it worth it?”

  There was no hesitation in this response. It is.

  “Okay. Send me the ship ID and I’ll put in the request right away.”

  “Sent. Sir, regarding the war? It seems as though—”

  He drew to a stop once again as the ship ID came in. “Caleb, are you certain you’re not being held under any coercion?”

  “Quite certain. Why do you ask?”

  “Because you’re on a ship belonging to the daughter of a very powerful Alliance Admiral—were you not aware of this?”

  “Ah, that. Yes, I’m aware. It’s a long story, but she’s not acting on behalf of the Alliance military. She’s a civilian.”

  “Is she now. Nevertheless, I’m sure you will utilize any opening which may occur as a result of your current situation, yes?”

  “Absolutely. It’s just…yes, of course.”

  “I’ve filed the request. It shouldn’t take longer than an hour. If this report is as serious as you indicate, I’ll advance it up the chain with all due speed.” He sighed, his shoulders sagging briefly from the placement of yet more existential weight upon them. “Aliens, truly? As if everything hadn’t already gone to clusterfained Hell and back….”

  “I had noticed. Is this war supposed to make any sense? Because from here it simply doesn’t.”

  “Not so far as I can tell, but no one’s asked my opinion on the subject.”

  “We can talk about it further when—do you need me to come in, sir? Provide perspective or an eyewitness account to go with the report?”

  “Normally I would say yes, but your, um, rather unique situation complicates the issue. It’s an opportunity I’d hate for you to lose. I tell you what—hold tight until we have a chance to review your report. This alien threat is likely to fall to the military to handle, in which case they may want you to consult, or you may be able to turn your attention to other matters. I’ll get back to you as soon as I know something.”

  “Understood. I would implore you to treat the contents of the report with the utmost urgency, but I suspect the report will accomplish that for itself.”

  The connection ended, and he paused at the side entrance to HQ. The visuals Marano had sent were horrifying, almost incomprehensibly so. They were otherworldly, as if out of a nightmare….

  A nightmare which now made the real horrors of the actual war waiting for him inside those doors seem almost welcome by comparison.

  “Graham, the eve of war is not the appropriate setting for your brand of humor.”

  Delavasi leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms against his chest. “Chairman, even I wouldn’t attempt such a joke tonight of all nights.”

  Vranas stared at him, skepticism ranking high in his expression. “Aliens.”

  “And not the fluffy bunny kind. It’s best if I just show you.” He sent the report to the screen above Vranas’ desk. “These images came in from one of our SpecOps agents three hours ago, but they’re over a day old. Apparently communications into or out of the Metis Nebula are difficult, as in impossible.”

  The Chairman sank into his chair as most of the color drained from his face. “Those are…what’s the scale?”

  “The dreadnoughts measure approximately 2.4 kilometers in length and 410 meters in width. There are seventy-eight of them in the visuals, but they were apparently still emerging from that ring structure when our agent departed the scene so he could get the report to us. As for the smaller ships, there are easily hundreds of thousands.”

  “And this is in Metis? But there’s nothing in Metis.”

  “Agreed. Clearly the portal originates elsewhere. Where that might be is anyone’s guess.”

  Vranas guzzled his bottle of water and activated a holo. “Field Marshal Gianno. Apologies, but I need your immediate attention.”

  The leader of the Military Council and Commander of the Armed Forces crystalized into view. She stood at a bank of screens bright with data, but turned to face them. “Chairman. Director Delavasi. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m sending you a file. Take a moment to review it then we’ll discuss the matter.”

  Graham stood to pace along the rug in front of Vranas’ desk while they waited. It didn’t take long.

  Unlike Vranas or even Graham himself when Michael had initially shown him the report, Gianno’s expression remained as neutral as when she had answered the holo. The woman gave new meaning to the word ‘unflappable.’

  “Well this represents a complication. I don’t relish fighting a war on two fronts. Am I looking at the most up to date information we have?”

  “You are.”

  “Is the Alliance aware of this development?”

  Graham nodded. “If they aren’t yet, I believe they soon will be.” Vranas’ eyes shot over to him in question; he gave a weak shrug. “It’s complicated.”

  Gianno opened a new screen and scrolled through data too detailed to be read over the holo. “The 2nd GOI Platoon on New Riga can be inside Metis in a day and a half. They’re heavily armed, fast and very covert—and should it be necessary they’re unmatched in a fight. We need updated intel and a location on these ships.”

  The Chairman raised an incredulous eyebrow. “They can stand up against those dreadnoughts?”

  She gave the tiniest little smile. “Well, as much as anyone can. Perhaps more relevantly, they can bug out faster than anyone can. The report states communications aren’t working in Metis?”

  “Correct. I’ve set one of my Tech groups working on it, but it’s not looking like an easy fix.”

  The tiny smile had already faded to a tiny frown. “The lack of real-time intel is going to be problematic. I’ll instruct the team to send back drones with updates for the time being, until we devise a better solution. Chairman, on your order I’ll initiate the operation now.”

  Vranas let out a long, heavy exhale and stared at the foreboding images, then nodded. “Authorized.”

  “Very well. Director, is this Agent Marano available to accompany the team? His experience in Metis and observing the ships firsthand would be valuable.”

  Graham rubbed at his forehead then ran the hand through his hair. “I don’t believe he’s in the region at the moment, but I’ll request he report to New Riga promptly.”

  “Thank you. It will take around twelve hours to ready the mission. If he can’t be there in sixteen, we go without him.”

  33

  SIYANE

  SPACE, NORTHEAST QUADRANT

  * * *

  CALEB WAS LEANING AGAINST the back of the couch when she came upstairs. The expression on his face was as weighty as when they’d discovered the portal and its travelers. She paused at the top of the stairwell. “What is it?”

  “I heard back from Volosk.”

  “And?”

  His eyes close
d with a slow exhale that screamed weariness. He looked tired in a way she had never seen. Of course, she probably did, too.

  “Alex, I need to get back home.”

  “Why, so you can join the war effort?” Damn that sounded snippy. She hadn’t meant it. Unless it was true.

  “So I can do my job. Listen, I don’t want this war any more than you do—almost certainly less—but they didn’t ask me.”

  “And the army of invading aliens?”

  “My top priority—my only priority. They want me to join a team heading into Metis for a more extensive investigation. Which is a good thing—it means they’re paying attention to the threat.”

  She flinched and spun away, toward the kitchen. Tea. She needed tea. It kept her mother absurdly calm, no reason it shouldn’t do the same for her, right? Her pulse pounded in her ears, causing his voice to sound distant, all echo-y and muffled. Why did she feel as though she was about to panic?

  “No.” Her voice was so soft she hardly heard it above the pounding.

  Silence lingered for aeons.

  “No…what?”

  “No, you can’t go home right now. We passed New Orient hours ago and are well into Alliance space.” She half-turned to him, leaving herself the option to retreat again. “At this point I can’t afford to turn around. I’m sorry, you’ll have to come with me.”

  He blinked at her. His jaw solidified into a chiseled line. His lips pursed together. He blinked again. She could see his eyes darken, until they were the color of the Pacific under a moonless night sky. “So I’m still your prisoner after all.”

  “There’s no reason to look at it that way….”

  “Not really seeing another way to look at it.”

  “I told you before, I need you with me when we get to Earth.”

  “You need me. Tell me Alex, how exactly do you need me—and don’t even try the ‘two voices are better than one’ line, because that is bullshit.”