by Ken Lozito
"Newsfeed," Ed said, and the nearest wallscreen came on.
Ed's position afforded him a wealth of information about the goings-on across the world, but sometimes he'd watch the local newsfeed to get a glimpse of what the average, everyday person saw in this little part of the world. Even though their intel was limited, the global segment of the local newsfeed did note various attacks from multiple terrorist organizations. Those organizations had been able to substantially increase their reach during these past few months, which indicated that they'd had significant help from outside their organization.
The newsfeed switched to a journalist standing amidst a group of refugees fleeing from active conflict zones. None of the locations were anywhere near the ECF facilities spread across the globe, and Ed knew that wasn't accidental. The Xiiginns needed those facilities just as much as the ECF did.
Ed glanced at the security feed on a smaller wallscreen and saw Iris Barrett walking toward his door. He could already hear the cadence of her Louboutin heels striking the floor with a clipped tempo. After the surprise attack from Boxans under the Xiiginn influence, Iris had had her combat implants augmented. At the time, she hadn't carried weapons that were capable of stopping Boxans in their power armor, and Ed remembered watching her struggle against the Boxan who was trying to kill him. The Boxan's flaxen eyes had been devoid of life until they focused on him with unmitigated hatred, and Ed's hands shook at the memory of it. It was one thing knowing about a threat that could kill him but was quite another experiencing it firsthand. Ed was no stranger to conflict. One couldn’t function in the shadow world without the occasional show of force.
Iris Barrett walked into his office carrying a tablet computer. She took a quick glance at him, and Ed knew that her neural implants had already assessed the state he was in.
"I'm surprised you're still awake, sir," Iris said.
Ed chuckled tiredly and engaged his chair’s massage function. He leaned back and the chair became warm while small, hardened spheres circulated along their tracks. Ed let out a soft groan as the little massagers smoothed out the tense muscles in his back and shoulders. "It's quiet today. What have you got?"
"We've had status reports from multiple field operations, and they've marked a number of facilities in Eastern Europe as the most likely locations for Xiiginn operations bases. They move around quite a bit so they're hard to nail down. A typical terrorist organization maintains a strong presence in certain parts of the world even if they’re trying to launch operations across the globe. By comparison, the Xiiginns seem to be pretty good at covering their tracks. If they suspect that we're onto them, they simply disappear. They might leave a few bodies behind, but it's like they're ghosts."
The massager finished its cycle and Ed sat up straight.
Iris continued. "Security remains tight at all ECF production facilities or any companies that are producing equipment for the ECF. There hasn't been so much as a sniff in their direction, which the intelligence agencies find perplexing."
Ed glanced at the newsfeed still playing on his wallscreen and glided his fingers over the stubble of his beard. He needed to shave. Hell, he needed a long, hot shower. "Still nothing of the Xiiginns in the United States?"
"Both the US and Canadian governments are on high alert, but there's been no indication of Xiiginn activity in either of those places. They could have a presence where we have more of a blind eye—places like Mexico and parts of South America. The Xiiginns could be there and we'd never know it," Iris said while she tapped through a few screens on her tablet.
"It wouldn't do them much good to do anything down there. We know what they want. They’re after candidates who may have the Mardoxian potential. Our testing facilities have augmented security measures taken directly from the Boxans. I think they’re basing their operations in Eastern Europe because of its proximity to where the Russian viewer program was located. I saw a report from the ECF that says the Xiiginns might be using small, mobile labs that are difficult to track," Ed said.
"We've been coordinating and providing intelligence to law enforcement agencies, but I'm not sure it's going to be enough. Colonel Kyle Matthew's debrief indicates that there was only a small number of Xiiginns on the ship where he was captured—perhaps fifty or so," Iris said.
Ed leaned back in his chair and blew out a breath. "I know, Iris. We're looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack. It's not supposed to be easy, but there has to be more we can do. We can't just be reactive to the Xiiginn threat."
"We could always use live bait," Iris offered, giving him a meaningful look.
"If only it were that easy. Their last attempt was a group of randomly selected people, which was more of a message from the Xiiginns than a true attempt on my life," Ed replied.
"Well, if it's all the same to you, we'll keep the security detail around just in case one of them gets lucky," Iris said.
Ed arched one eyebrow at her. "No one gets lucky with you around. I'm sure I'll live to a ripe old age and you'll be bored."
"Considering the alternative, I like being bored. But seriously, Ed, we can't afford to be complacent with our security posture," Iris said, giving him a stern look.
The newsfeed showed various protests going on around the country and around the world. Ed watched as the wars of ideals unfolded in tiny increments on the wallscreen. He never underestimated peoples' willingness to disagree about almost anything. He had rooms full of tech folk in charge of limiting the dissemination of misinformation, which carried its own ethical gray areas. No one liked the idea of censorship, but there was a need for censorship regarding some things. The ethical issues came from the question of who would control censorship. This ongoing struggle prompted intelligent and highly capable people like Zack Quick to uncover and expose sensitive information.
Ed had been surprised to learn that Zack had appeared on Dux Corp's recruitment radar since his time in graduate school and even before his association with Kaylan. His whereabouts had been spotty at best until he'd found the confidential photographs of Pluto that showed the Boxan monitoring station. Zack had inadvertently put them on the path that led them to where they were today, moving up Dux Corp's timeline to investigate Pluto by at least ten years.
The nations of Earth needed to unite. The ECF had to succeed in order for humanity to survive. It just took a lot of convincing for people to accept that. There were groups of people who worshiped the Boxans as if they were some kind of gods while other groups argued for inviting the Xiiginns to the negotiating table. Those idiots seemed to forget it was the Xiiginns who were flinging moon-sized asteroids at the earth not so long ago.
Iris cleared her throat to get his attention. "I've come across a project called Phoenix, but I haven’t been able to find much information about it. I only came across it because my own correlation engine flagged that project. There’s a significant amount of smaller transactions stemming from other ventures going into Phoenix. Is this one of your pet projects?"
Ed had taken steps to ensure that Bruce Matherson's legacy would continue on in the event that Ed met an untimely demise.
"Phoenix is a legitimate project," Ed replied while keeping his gaze on the wallscreen.
Iris wasn't fooled and made an “uh-huh” noise. "That's all you're going to share with me? I need to be able to look after your affairs, and I'm not able to do that unless I know all the pieces currently in play."
Ed tore his eyes away from the wallscreen to look at Iris. "What do you think this place is going to look like in twenty years?"
Iris frowned a bit, surprised by the question. "Assuming we're still around in twenty years without any major catastrophes? I tend to prefer a more optimistic viewpoint when it comes to the future. I firmly believe we're going to kick the crap out of the Xiiginns, and we’ll get through this crisis and the one that inevitably follows. You see, Ed, I think there's always going to be something out there that will affect us here. It doesn't change what we're going to be doing, but
we do need to be aware of it and continue to play the long game. That's why I'm here. So in twenty years, things may appear to be different, but I expect they will be just the same."
"That's why I hired you. You're tough when it's needed, but you don't lose sight of the bigger picture. Whatever future it has, Dux Corp will need people like you," Ed replied.
Iris narrowed her gaze. "Why do I feel like I'm standing at somebody's deathbed? Is there something you're not telling me? Do you have some horrible disease for which there’s no cure?"
Ed smiled. "Come on, Iris, a deadly disease would be too easy. But back to the point—I think your idea of luring the Xiiginns to us has merit. We should explore and develop that idea. We need a reason for them to go where we want them to go. I don't think they'll ever hit any of the sites that are associated with the ECF because at some point they're going to need a way off this rock, and I aim to stand in their way."
"And I'll do whatever I can to make sure that happens, but you never answered my question. What is project Phoenix?" Iris asked.
Ed should've known he couldn't throw her off the trail. "Close newsfeed," Ed said, and the wallscreen flickered off. He turned toward Iris. "You're no stranger to what we do here. Project Phoenix is one of many projects that serve as contingencies depending on whether certain events happen. To be as transparent as I can, you're a soldier—an army of one and highly intelligent, but you’re a major piece of this organization. I give you enough information that you can do your job. You’re a trusted confidant, but there are some things I can't have you knowing about until the proper time. Frankly, I'm surprised you didn't ask about any of the other projects—like Gatekeeper and Clean Sweep. I could go on, but I won't."
Iris squared her shoulders and met Ed's gaze. "Understood. All I need to know is that you’re aware of the project. My other task is to make sure you remain at peak performance, even at your age. That couch over there folds out into a bed if you don't want to return to your quarters. I suggest you get a few hours’ sleep, or at least try to. We have a meeting with General Sheridan in a few hours and you need to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed."
Ed snorted. "All right, get out of here and let this old man get some sleep," he said and walked over to the couch. "Oh, and Iris, I know you won't be far, but just remember that you'll get your chance at the Xiiginns personally. I have no doubt."
"I hope so, sir. I would very much like to meet one in person and ram one of my heels through its alien throat," Iris said as she left his office.
Ed had little doubt that she would, too, and he very much wanted to be there to watch her do it. He swung his legs over the side of the couch and settled back onto the plush cushions, making a mental note to move some of his secret projects around. Iris had higher clearance than most, but he’d either been getting sloppy in his old age or he'd trained her too well.
Chapter Six
The battleship-carrier Lincoln was on its final approach to a lunar synchronous orbit. As the Earth Coalition Force's first ship of the wall, it had just finished its initial shakedown cruise. Colonel Kyle Matthews was the commanding officer of the two thousand crewmembers serving aboard the Lincoln, as well as the one hundred Boxans who were aboard in an advisory capacity.
Kyle sat on the command couch, looking over the recent performance reports from their latest combat drills. He glanced at Scraanyx and noted that the Boxan was looking at the same report on his own terminal.
"We can do better than this," Kyle said.
The ECF was scrambling to build warships, and the Lincoln was the first battleship-carrier completed at the manufacturing facility on the new moon. He vaguely recalled giving a presentation to Lunar Base personnel about how they were going to slowly ramp up their manufacturing capabilities—first building strike-fighters and then frigates, working their way up to destroyers and battleship-carriers. Priorities had shifted, however, once they learned that the Xiiginns were on Earth and that the Star Shroud shield was shrinking.
Scraanyx finished reading the report. "This is just a shakedown cruise meant to expose problem systems. It comes as little surprise to me that the crew needs time to master their jobs."
"That's one way to put it. If we had to engage the Xiiginns today, I'm afraid we wouldn't put up much of a fight. In fact, the only thing we did really well was the strike-fighter deployments, which, incidentally, is the thing we've had the most practice with," Kyle said and started to imagine General Sheridan relieving him of his command. Kyle had never been fired from any job in his life, but after looking at these reports, he might just fire himself. He could already hear the arguments from the Navy about how they were better suited to command Earth's first space fleet, but the ECF was very much an Army operation.
Kyle had tasked the ECF crew on the bridge and throughout the ship with reviewing performance reports for their specific areas. They needed to run a tighter ship, but at the same time, they were still learning their jobs. Space warfare was new to them, and not all the tactics of the various militaries throughout the globe would help them much up there.
"I think you're underestimating what you've achieved even with our help," Scraanyx said.
"We need to be able to hit the ground running, and right now we can barely get our feet under us, let alone run. I reviewed the performance logs from the rest of the battle group, and there are consistent failures on the other ships, too," Kyle said.
Scraanyx stood up and looked at the ECF crew serving on the bridge. The ECF had accounted for Boxans in their design of the ships for most areas, which included the bridge. It wouldn't be much of an alliance if their allies had to stoop almost in half to move around the ship. Scraanyx was over ten feet tall, and his brown, roughened skin was covered by a Boxan uniform.
"I have feedback from the strike force serving aboard the ship, but before I give that to you I'd like to know what you plan to do," Scraanyx said.
Kyle was used to this by now. It wouldn't help the ECF if the Boxans just told them what they needed to do. ECF officers needed to learn to stand on their own two feet.
"I'll have my officers write up their own evaluations addressing how they plan to improve performance. We'll review them and set clearly defined goals. Then, we'll keep running drills until the crews can perform them in their sleep. I won’t go before General Sheridan without a plan to address the performance of this shakedown cruise," Kyle said.
"Your battle leader knows what it is to command, and he wouldn't have put you in charge if he wasn't convinced of your capabilities," Scraanyx said.
Kyle snorted. "The frustration is the learning part."
Kyle wasn't foolish enough to believe they could build a ship like this, take it out, and suddenly be a fighting force capable of taking on an alien species that had been doing the same thing for hundreds of years. Construction of the Lincoln had only finished about a month ago, and there were still dozens of systems that required attention, but the fact that the ship flew at all was a monumental accomplishment.
Not everything had failed to live up to expectations. The weapons systems did work, and they'd successfully hit the random asteroids marked for target practice. Their biggest struggle was with emergency responses—what to do when systems went off-line. The Boxans had installed multiple combat scenarios from their own training regimen into the Lincoln's computer system, but the ECF crew was still green, and Kyle was anxious for them to be proficient at their jobs.
Kyle left his XO, Lieutenant Colonel Anna Kelly, in charge while he and Scraanyx returned to Armstrong Base on the moon. They took a Falcon class III combat shuttle and soon arrived at the ECF landing pad at Armstrong where the indicator lights showed green for a cleared dock. Kyle and Scraanyx left the shuttle and headed to General Sheridan's office, which was located near the command center. General Sheridan divided his time between Armstrong Base and the main facility on Earth.
They entered the outer office, where an ECF private told them to go on inside, and Kyle noticed that the soldier b
arely looked twice at Scraanyx. Boxans had restricted themselves to either the lunar bases or serving aboard ships. After the incident several months ago that involved Boxans under the Xiiginn influence, they had all but removed themselves from Earth, but Kyle didn't know how long the Boxans could keep that up. They built resonance chambers on the lunar base that were more of a botanical garden in space. Scraanyx and the other Boxans insisted that this helped them cope with long deployments like this one. Those resonance chambers were quite peaceful but paled in comparison with standing on an actual planet. Kyle had brought this up to Scraanyx, who simply replied that the Boxans would endure. Kyle didn't like it. They didn't know how long the Boxans would be here, but he’d let the matter go for the time being.
Kyle entered General Sheridan's office first and stood at attention. Scraanyx stood next to him and brought his large fist across his heart, giving Sheridan the Boxan salute.
"At ease," General Sheridan said from behind his desk and gestured for them to sit down. "I was just looking over your reports. I'm not gonna beat around the bush. You know as well as I do that there's a lot that needs to be addressed here, but I'm not going to dress you down about it. Among all the personnel on this base, you know exactly what's at stake. You know what the Xiiginns are capable of since you’re one of only four people who've actually been in the presence of a Xiiginn. How long do you think it will take to get your troops ready for combat?"
"I’d like to have a year or two of running through the Boxan training program for space warfare, but that's not realistic. I think if I could get six months of solid training, that would help, but if you're looking for a minimum timeframe, I’d say at least three months. Even then, we won't know how we'll do against a Xiiginn warship until we actually meet one face-to-face," Kyle said.