“What you uncovered from the labs shows this beedle stuff was made there?” Burton asked.
“Right,” Tag said. “Apparently Hannah and some other human collaborators had tried to use nanites on the Imoogi, but they weren’t successful. Nanite technology, especially when used on aliens, is extremely complex.”
“So they resorted to turning them to addicts,” Cho said. “That’s some evil shit.”
“That’s right,” Tag said. “And according to the Forge’s logs, the Collectors are working with human collaborators to abduct and recruit people on other colonies, too.”
“Gods be damned,” Cho said, shaking his head. He punched one meaty fist into the other. “Can’t believe these Starinski assholes are working with them. Why in the three hells would they do that?”
“Maybe it’s just greed. They were the company that funded the initial nanite research on the UNS Hope that the Collectors used. They originally weaponized it, and now I believe they’re working with the Collectors because, as ridiculous as it sounds to us, they’re selling Collector technology back to the SRE.”
“Like that stealth ship of theirs?” Cho asked.
“Exactly,” Tag said. “It’s strikingly similar to the Mechanics’ stealth technology.”
Cho pounded the table. “Shit! Starinski makes those goddamn planetary defense satellites. They were responsible for the outages, weren’t they?”
Tag nodded. “The earthquakes were just them detonating an old bomb from the Lorris group’s smuggling operations.”
Burton’s face grew flushed even as she remained straight-lipped. “If I had known...”
Cho sighed. “Give me a break.”
Tag saw their newfound comradery cracking and tried to get them back on track. “Look, what’s done is done. We’re here now, and we can’t waste our time bickering among ourselves. This colony won’t survive if the Collectors and their collaborators succeed.”
“Damn it all,” Cho said. “There’s something else I want to know. You said you came here because a bunch of marines tried to kill Admiral Doran. Now why in the gods’ name would any marine do that?”
“That’s the question that started this all,” Tag said. From his wrist terminal, he played the holo that Ezekiel had shown him of the lightning-like aliens. The Luminals, Hannah had called them. Burton and Cho watched in bemusement as the strange beings absconded with dozens of crew members from the Hope. “This is what sparked the survivors of the Hope’s crew to turn themselves and their offspring into the Collectors.”
Cho raised an eyebrow. “And this video is why marines tried to kill Doran?”
“It convinced Hannah to work for Starinski. She convinced the marines to join her cause to defend humanity,” Tag said. Just like she tried to convince me.
“Shit,” Cho said. “Did she... did she turn any of my boys and girls?”
Tag shook his head. “We found no evidence anyone in your platoon was being recruited.”
Cho let out an audible sigh of relief.
“What about my people?” Burton asked.
“Recruiting colonists, other than to work in her lab, was not part of Hannah’s directives,” Tag said.
Burton nodded as if she had expected such an answer. “And you’re sure the Imoogi no longer pose a danger to us?”
“I am not one hundred percent positive, but the official stance of the Imoogi government is to maintain the treaty you signed with them. You might have some issues with addicts, but the Imoogi are working to rehabilitate those they can.”
“Good. As long as my people are still safe.”
“That’s the point, though,” Tag said. “None of us are safe anymore. Not you, not the SRE. Not the Imoogi, for that matter. As long as the Collectors are still out there, we’ve got to be on guard.”
“Then what can we do about it?” Burton asked.
“Join the SRE and fight with us,” Cho said.
Burton shook her head. “You already know my answer on that. It hasn’t changed.”
Tag struggled to control his frustration. “I’m not trying to strong-arm you here, but you have two options, Governor Burton: ally with the SRE or watch your people suffer and die. Which is it going to be?”
“I thought you weren’t actually an SRE diplomat,” Burton shot back.
“I’m not,” Tag said. “I’m just telling you what I’d do if I were in your shoes. Because if you were in mine, you’d be damned worried about what the Collectors intend to do with your colony. I’ve told you what’s going on. You can do with that information what you want.” He looked at Cho. “I also asked Admiral Doran to ensure that the Starinski components of the planetary defense network are taken down. That includes all the comm equipment they installed. Once that’s replaced, you shouldn’t have any issues communicating with the SRE.”
“So long as I’m not talking to collaborators,” Cho said.
“That’s being worked on,” Tag said. “Burton, have you decided?”
Burton sighed. “Three hells, when your people get the comm network back in order and we’re no longer getting censored by Starinski spooks, let me know who I can talk to. I want my colony to live free—but most of all, I want them to live.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Tag returned to the table with a fresh round of beer for his crew. After slipping between Alpha and Sofia, he took a sip of the slightly grassy-tasting beverage. It was starting to grow on him.
“I am still uncertain why humans enjoy this,” Alpha said. “It has a dampening effect on my neural-comp interfaces.”
“That’s why we like it,” Sofia said.
“Because of my neural-comp interfaces?”
“Because of the impact on our whatever interfaces,” Lonestar drawled, already three beers deep.
Coren took a hesitant sip, his nostrils flaring. “I miss the C’reen Dahl.”
“You’re the only one,” Sumo said.
“I don’t know,” Lonestar said. “I kind of liked it.”
The crew had been busy helping the repair bots to prepare the Argo for flight again, but they were short on supplies and parts. Tag hoped his courier drone had gotten to the Montenegro and that Doran—assuming she was still there—would at least send the materials they needed to get the fusion reactors and T-drive repaired for a hyperspace journey.
“It’s nice not getting shot at for a little while,” Sofia said. “Makes me wonder what Doran will have us do next.”
“I would like to have a chance to focus on the scientific aspects of our mission,” Coren said. “There’s a lot left to be done on nanite research.”
Tag traced a finger around the rim of his glass. “I just hope Doran and the Montenegro are safe.” He had calculated the time it would take for their drone to reach the Montenegro and estimated how long it would be before he could expect a reply. The earliest time had already passed three days ago. “I sent just about everything we had to her. What if I was sending intel straight into the hands of the mutineers?”
“If only we could’ve delivered the message ourselves,” Sofia said. “I keep thinking what I could’ve done differently. If I’d flown better, maybe they wouldn’t have hit the fusion reactor. Maybe the T-drive would still be online, and maybe we’d be back at the Montenegro already. Three hells, maybe we could already be going after the Collectors. What I wouldn’t give to get my hands on one of those blue bastards.” Sofia chugged her beer. “Sorry to let you down, Skipper.”
“You didn’t let me down. You got us right where we needed to be.”
“Glad you think so. I still can’t quit replaying everything over and over in my mind.”
“I get it,” Tag said. “Can’t help seeing Hannah’s escape every time I close my eyes.”
“You actually liked her, didn’t you?” Sofia asked.
Tag raised a brow, feigning ignorance. “What do you mean?”
“Come on, Skipper. Can’t put one past me. Remember, before this mess, I used to study cultures f
or a living. You’re like an open book.”
“Yes,” Tag admitted. “I admired her scientific prowess. Our conversations were interesting.”
Sofia laughed. “Don’t try to make it sound so clinical. You liked her.”
Tag paused before taking another sip of beer. “Didn’t know you were also a psychologist.”
“Not a psychologist. Just a normal human being.” She looked around the table, eyeing Alpha, Coren, and the marines. “Well, the closest to normal you’ve got in this crew.”
“Can’t disagree there.” Tag set his glass down. “I still have a hard time understanding how someone like her joined the collaborators.”
“I’m going to go with cognitive dissonance,” Sofia said.
Tag cocked his head. “And that is?”
“Her worldviews were built around saving life on planets like Orthod, right? That’s why she was so vehement about doing whatever it takes to defeat the perceived threat of the Luminals. She also believes science holds all the answers to our problems. So naturally she thought the Collectors, using advanced technology and science to fulfill their self-proclaimed purpose, were doing the right thing.”
“Where’s the dissonance part come in?” Tag asked.
“I’m going out on a limb here and say she idolizes the Collectors and the technology they’re developing. She thinks she’s a good person and what she stands for is good. So when presented with the idea that maybe taking colonists away for experimentation is a bad thing, she has to reject it. Because she believes she is a good person, and therefore doesn’t believe that she is capable of doing bad things. She justifies what we perceive to be evil as necessary.”
“Sounds like some crazy mental gymnastics,” Tag said. Then after a breath, “You sure you aren’t a psychologist?”
“In another life, maybe. Already got too much going on in this one, Skip.”
“That’s the truth,” Tag said, raising his mostly empty glass.
All around him, people were talking, laughing. A cold spike drove itself through his chest. How many of them would survive the coming storm?
Tag looked at his crew. Behind the carefree expressions they wore was the same darkness that haunted him. As jovial as they seemed now, he knew not one of them would hesitate if—no, when—they were asked to risk their lives again on the next mission. And maybe next time, they wouldn’t all make it back. Nevertheless, they’d keep fighting to save as many people as they could. People who would never know their names or understand how much they’d sacrificed.
“Skip, you good?” Sofia asked staring at his hand.
He looked down, realizing his fingers were chalk-white. His grip threatened to crack the glass. “I will be.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
The repair bots were working overtime on the Argo, which meant the passages of the ship were filled at all hours with the noisy racket of plasma cutters and welders and the scuttle of mechanical legs. The crew had agreed it might be more comfortable to stay in town while the ship underwent repairs. As a bonus, it meant a shorter commute back to their beds at the end of the night.
Tag found he didn’t need the noisy bots to keep him awake. Every chirp of the insects and birdlike creatures on Orthod slammed against his eardrums like a bullhorn. He stared up at the ceiling, counting the rivets in the support beams. Snores echoed from another room. Sounded like the marines had found peace at the bottom of a beer bottle. He hadn’t been so lucky.
Giving up on sleep, he slipped from his bed. He padded as quietly as he could to the door, opening it slowly to prevent it from creaking. He walked outside. A cool breeze blew over him, carrying with it the salty taste of Orthod’s oceans. A few lights hung from poles between other houses and buildings. The streets were empty except for tire tracks and footprints over the dusty pavement. Something sounded behind him, and he instinctively reached toward his hip for his missing pulse pistol.
“Just me, Skip,” Sofia said, closing the door gently behind her. “Nice night out.”
For a moment they both stared up at the night sky. The stars stared back, silent.
“I was going for a walk,” Tag said. “Want to join me?”
Sofia shrugged. “I could stretch my legs.”
They walked out of the town’s gates and over the steam-vent-strewn landscape. It took almost an hour to get to the spot he had had in mind, but it was worth it. Just like the first time Tag had been here, it was almost impossible to see where the sky ended and horizon began.
“All these trees, the water,” Sofia said, motioning at the landscape. “It’s beautiful out here... but I’m guessing you didn’t just stumble on this place on your own.”
“No,” Tag said. “A... friend showed me.”
“Thought so,” Sofia said.
A flock of large insect-like creatures fluttered past. Their wings glowed with dots like starlight as they disappeared between the stalks of tall, waving plants.
“You don’t think the Imoogi will help us against the Collectors, do you?” Sofia asked.
He shrugged. “You’re the xeno-anthropologist.”
“They’re isolationist,” she said. “But maybe not by choice. It seemed more like they got their asses handed to them out there among the stars, so they retreated back here. I mean, judging by those drillfish things they had, they’ve got some cool toys. Might be useful against the Collectors.”
“We need every ally we can scrounge up about now.”
“We certainly do, Skipper.”
“I’ll talk to Burton and Cho again. See if they can’t establish more formal relationships with the Imoogi. Maybe Doran can get a real SRE diplomat down here to work with them.”
“Yeah.” Sofia stared dreamily up at the stars, her hands splayed behind her head as she lay against the grassy hill. “You okay, Skip?”
“Didn’t drink as much as the others. You?”
“That’s not what I meant. I’m talking about Hannah. About all the shit we went through.”
“I’m okay,” he said. Then he shook his head. “Nah, I’m lying. I’m not okay. I’d be surprised if any of us are okay. I’m shaken up, Sofia. Betrayed by Hannah. Watched an innocent colonist die at her hands. Another batch of them sent off to the Collectors. I’m definitely not okay.”
“Thought so,” Sofia said.
“Used your amateur psychologist skills on me?”
“Didn’t need to,” Sofia said. “Skip, let’s just say you’d be a shit poker player.” She shifted to face him, resting her head in one of her palms. “But that’s why I like you. Why we all like you. I just want you to know that.”
“I appreciate it,” Tag said. He sighed. “This has been a rough couple of months. I got to say, I don’t know how I’d do it without any of you all.” He faced her. “Especially you, Sofia. I mean, you saved my ass back on Eta-Five, and I don’t know what I would’ve done without a pilot like you since.”
She grinned. “You would’ve been shot out of the sky.”
“I would’ve been.”
For a while they both sat in companionable silence. The songs of the bugs and birds no longer seemed so abrasive out here. There was something peaceful about embracing the nature around them rather than shutting it out with 3-D-fabbed walls.
A sudden crack like lightning jolted him upright. His heart pounded against his chest. Sofia sprang into a fighting stance beside him. The sky seemed to split open, light flashing in wide arcs, blotting out the stars. There were no clouds, no rain. Nothing to indicate a storm. It wasn’t lightning but the electrical discharge of a ship coming out of hyperspace. Judging by the amount of light, it was a massive craft.
“Gods, no,” Sofia said.
Tag reached for his wrist terminal, ready to signal the alarm. The Argo could still fly. Still fight.
Maybe.
“Think it’s in good enough shape to fly?” Tag asked Sofia.
“I can fly a garbage can if you ask me to,” Sofia said, her eyes set straight ahead, the seri
ousness he saw in her when they were skirting past enemy fire.
“With the shape the Argo’s in,” Tag said, “that might be exactly what I’m asking you to do.”
More flashes of light exploded overhead, cracking over the sky. Tag counted at least a dozen before he began to lose track. A heavy weight dragged his stomach down. He hadn’t expected the Collectors to arrive so soon to exact vengeance on this relatively insignificant planet.
When his wrist terminal buzzed, he didn’t see the blue face of any Collector or the cold expression of a Drone-Mech. Instead Admiral Doran appeared.
She was smiling.
***
“I’m happy to see you all alive,” Doran said.
“And we, you,” Tag said.
Once again they found themselves in the conference room aboard the Montenegro with its artwork of antiquated wooden naval ships. But this time it wasn’t just Tag and his crew. Another familiar Mechanic sat across from him.
“And Bracken, too,” Tag said. He couldn’t help but smile. “I can only assume you’re here to deliver good news.”
“We are.” Bracken held out a grav wave comm device like the one L’ndrant had given Tag. She let out a sigh as she pushed it over the table. “I regret to say that even Mechanic technology has its issues, especially with a prototype device. We’re assuming the device L’ndrant sent you failed, since you never returned her hails.”
Tag took out his device and placed the slate on the table. “So she’s still Grand Elector?”
“She is,” Bracken said. “The military came to their senses after a marathon of a hearing. Two days of questioning, poring over all the data we had—and everything you gave us before your abrupt departure. All formal charges against you and your crew were dropped. Without being able to galvanize around you as an enemy, it didn’t take too long for L’ndrant to get our people back in line. Which is what brought me here.”
Doran nodded. “We’ve formalized an alliance between the ME and the SRE.”
“That’s great news,” Tag said. “Just to be clear, the SRE no longer wants us for any alleged crimes, either, right?”
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