Alex beamed, flush with relief and a new lightness of being. “You got it. In fact, I should get some secrets out in the open, just to start fresh. Let’s see…Mesme is teaching Valkyrie how to project her consciousness into the spatial dimensions, so if you see a golden specter of a Norse woman, don’t freak out. Caleb and Noah started the bar fight here the other night—well, they didn’t start it, some Dankath did, but they were why it happened. Before the Machimis mission, Caleb, Eren and I used antimatter explosives to destroy a gateway leading to the Maffei I galaxy in order to protect an indigenous species of aquatic life.”
“What?”
“When I was fourteen, I deliberately broke your Yixing teapot, then chickened out and blamed it on the cat. When I was seventeen I stole—”
Miriam lifted both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, enough. Please. I said going forward.” She shook her head. “Who am I kidding? You will always do what you believe is right, and I can’t ask you to change. I wouldn’t want you to change. I suppose if I’m saying anything, it’s that I am trying to change a little, here and there at the margins, and you might want to keep this in mind when you evaluate these kinds of decisions in the future.”
Alex returned to the Siyane in a sort of daze. Once inside she sank against the cockpit half-wall and stared at nothing, eyes unfocused.
Caleb must have heard her arrive, for he vaulted up the stairs from below while still pulling on a shirt. “Valkyrie said your mom was outside. Is everything all right?”
She regarded him a moment, started to answer—and covered her mouth with her hand as a sob welled up in her chest and forced its way past her lips.
He was touching her the next instant. “What happened?”
She wiped at her cheeks even as tears kept falling. “She forgave me.”
Caleb’s brow furrowed as he took over the futile task, his thumb gently catching a few tears as they fell but mostly caressing her cheek. “Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing! I have my father back, and my mother forgave me.” She laughed and sobbed at the same time, making a mess of herself and his clean shirt. “I feel like my life has…started over, like I’ve been given a second chance to write the story of my life.”
He smiled so wonderfully and drew her closer to kiss her forehead. “Because you have—but it wasn’t given to you. You made it happen.”
She breathed in through her nose and worked to impose a measure of control. What had gotten into her, bawling like some hyperemotional teenager? “I love you. I could never have become a person worthy of her forgiveness without you. Thank you for believing in me.”
Her lips found his, grazing across them and back again. “So what do you say? Will you help me write the second story of my life?”
“Oh, baby, it would be my genuine pleasure.”
3
MACHIMIS STELLAR SYSTEM
MACHIMIS CENTRAL COMMAND ANNEX
MILKY WAY SECTOR 36
* * *
“LIGHTS!”
The room obediently brightened to a moderate illumination, powered by one of dozens of generators swiftly assembled and installed on the Annex earlier in the week by Diaplas engineers. Their use was being rationed out of necessity, hence the room’s state of darkness on his arrival.
The Machim Primor gritted his teeth against the shame that flared despite him being alone in the cavernous, circular apex of the Annex. Every step, every action on his part seemed to trigger a new cause for embarrassment, but he dared not succumb to the deceitful whispers fogging his mind. Instead of entertaining them, he opened the intergalactic map and set about reviewing the state of the numerous in-progress operations. After brief consideration, he chose one to dive.
If the anarchs and the Humans were going to continue to insist that business must cease being as usual, the Directorate had finally decided it could accommodate them. Whether despite or because of what had transpired in his home system, all Machim formations had been pulled off their regular duties and now conducted active war assignments. They guarded important worlds and stations as well as every transit gateway; now they guarded vital power module fabrication centers.
They also attacked.
His integral perception focused in on the members of his progeny currently located in Sector 5 of the Large Magellanic Cloud until his mind occupied each and all of theirs. They perceived his presence as no more than a faint tickle at the base of the skull, if they perceived it at all. He watched through their eyes as the warships approached Chalmun Station Asteroid.
All of the underground, pariah outposts would be crushed in short order, but this one would be crushed most viciously of all. The anarchs chose Chalmun Station to thumb their noses at the Directorate; from within its slipshod burrows they made a show of publicly humiliating the leaders of the empire. Chalmun Station would be punished accordingly.
As the formation closed in on the asteroid’s location, radar pinged not one large object as expected, but rather multiple smaller objects. Many multiple smaller objects. His perception leapt to the forward scouts, who were just coming into visual range of the asteroid.
A fleet of Katasketousya superdreadnoughts hovered in defensive lines arrayed in space. They guarded…nothing. Chalmun Station—the entire physical asteroid housing it—was gone.
The Katasketousya vessels engaged his warships without provocation. Hundreds of thousands of tiny tentacled drones detached from the hulking superdreadnoughts to swarm the Machim formation while deep red beams eighty meters in breadth swept across what had in seconds become the battlefield.
He leapt back to the Imperium’s Navarchos an instant before a beam caught the entire squad of scout ships and they exploded. The Navarchos had already begun doing what one was required to do when attacked: attacking in return.
But if Chalmun Station no longer occupied this point in space, why were the Katasketousya here at all? If nothing existed to guard, why were they stationed here? Did they linger merely to take advantage of an opportunity to attack Machim ships out of spite? Did they take pleasure in claiming empty space from him? The Katasketousya were proving to harbor many distasteful characteristics they had hidden from the Directorate until recently. Why should pettiness not be one of them?
But why pettiness toward him? Why did Machim bear the overwhelming brunt of the enemies’ destructive impulses in this conflict? Yes, he represented the military and thus the true authority in Amaranthe, but a plethora of other targets existed. Why had they not stolen the power from Solum, or Chomar? He had been humiliated again and again by this collection of terrorists, turncoats and invaders, but this was solely because he had been the only one to challenge them. Let Erevna stand up to these enemies and see how she fared.
With a weighty breath he drew into himself long enough to regain his bearings. He again pushed aside the disjointed, erratic doubts and concentrated on the unfolding conflict. Warfare lived in his soul, and he intended to see it executed properly.
The superdreadnoughts were both powerful and sturdy, however, and the engagement soon devolved into a battle of attrition. The fact that SAIs controlled the enemy vessels rankled him a great deal, and the fact that they were allegedly shackled, limited-purpose SAIs did nothing to quell his displeasure. His men should be able to outsmart the lowly machines. They must do so, lest the monstrous creations wreak havoc on civilization if victorious.
The simultaneous contradictory sentiments clashed for dominance in his mind. Were the SAIs inferior or superior? Were they worthy only of subjugation, or to be feared as potentially domineering overlords?
He blinked as a train of thought from the Navarchos flared in his mind. They were losing too many ships for the dynamics of the encounter. Crippled and destroyed ships continued to be tallied across the battlefield, but the numbers weren’t adding up. Ships were simply…vanishing.
He backed away from the deep dive to study the overarching flow of battle. The dropouts seemed to occur when ships went behind enemy lines
to flank the Katasketousya vessels.
He encouraged the captain of a cruiser to attempt a flanking maneuver and mentally accompanied the vessel as it swung around in a wide arc while fending off a multitude of swarming drones. When it neared where the asteroid should have been, the cruiser readied to reverse thrusters and pivot toward the rear of the superdread—
—blinding light washed over the cruiser, followed an instant later by searing heat. The hull melted, the skin of its crew melted—
—shock propelled Machim backward in the top-level Annex meeting room, and he would have fallen to the floor if he hadn’t impacted a wall first.
He furtively checked the room, skin reddening in preemptive mortification. But he remained alone, his abasement private this time.
He tried to shake off the lingering nausea. The ordeal reminded him of the sequence of events when Casmir’s fleet was annihilated beyond the false portal, though he had not experienced those events first-hand or in so intense a manner.
Had the Katasketousya positioned one of their dimension-shifting fields here, as they had inside the false portal space? Was such a field sending any vessel that crossed it into what he assumed must be a nearby star? Why? Again, for spite? Did they cavort in glee at continuing to outsmart him not with new tricks, but with the same tricks?
He felt sick to his stomach, still nauseated from the vicarious but violent deaths and newly disgusted by the mental image of Katasketousya snickering at his ineptitude—abruptly he bent over and retched onto the floor.
Now disgusted by himself as well, he used his immaculate uniform jacket to wipe his mouth off then called for a Cleaning Unit. But the foul taste remained in the back of his throat as he struggled in search of an appropriate response to the current state of affairs.
With no Chalmun Station present to destroy, the ongoing engagement was pointless and served only as a drain on his resources. But he could not withdraw. To do so would be to admit defeat, to no end but his further disgrace.
CHALMUN STATION ASTEROID
LARGE MAGELLANIC CLOUD
LGG REGION I
“This is bloody marvelous.” Eren grinned in the direction of the oversized screen hovering above the crowd. He and the crowd watched, transfixed, as it displayed in gloriously vivid detail the destruction currently befalling the Machim fleet outside the hidden shelter of the asteroid. The Kats had turned the region into a shooting gallery.
Cosime giggled beside him. “The Kats are persnickety, but they’re also spectacularly clever.”
“Right? No doubt about it. Did you meet this ‘Hyperion,’ though? The one in charge out there? Prickly, dour bastard makes Mesme seem like the life of an Idoni party in comparison.”
Cosime shook her head, sending iridescent strands of hair bouncing off her shoulders as she sipped on her fruity drink. “No, but it can be as prickly as it wants, I say. It made the entire asteroid invisible, and now its ships are kicking the Machim fleet’s petard.”
“True enough for certain.” He glanced around the bar, one eye scanning for any trouble that might have an inkling to brew. As he did, the bartender caught his attention and held up a glass in question. Eren shook his head and continued his survey.
“It wasn’t an ultimatum, Eren. You can have a drink. I won’t get angry.”
Damn, how had she picked up on the brief, silent, subdued interaction? He laughed faintly and with a touch of woe. “I know. Better to err in the other direction for a while, though, I think. Besides, I need to be sharp right now. I’m expected to be acting all leader-like.”
“Yes, but this is still Chalmun Station we’re talking about.”
“Granted. Which is another reason why I need to be sharp.” The station was on full alert, a precaution against the improbable event of the Machim ships finding a way past the cloaking effect of the Kats’ dimensional shifter and managing to get inside. Full alert meant virtually everyone on the station was now armed, because outside of a dozen bouncers and a handful of deputized peacekeepers, the defenders were also the residents. While they may be ‘his people’ in the philosophical sense, they also included a disproportionate number of criminals and general-purpose thugs, and they were riled up and spoiling for a fight.
“Trying to protect me again?”
He scoffed. “You can protect yourself—I’m more worried about protecting me.” It was at least half true.
“Sober or not, you’re still full of it.”
Before he could respond, indignantly or otherwise, Cosime had flounced off her stool and was grabbing his hand. “I see Trepenos motioning for us. Come on.”
Tucked into the carved-out walls of the asteroid another full level up, above the balcony that jutted above the bar, sat Trepenos’ office. It felt lofty, but a hundred meters of asteroid pressed down on the ceiling above it.
Eren leaned against an irregular, bare wall. “What’s the situation?”
“I was hoping you could enlighten me.”
“Oh, outside? It’s going fine. The Kats’ SAI ships are embarrassing the Machim fleet. I’m embarrassed for them, and I despise the Machim.”
“Is there a Dynasty you don’t despise?”
“Eh, I suppose the Diaplas build some decent stations. Anyway, I was asking about inside.”
“Hmm.” Trepenos peered out the interior-facing glass wall, his uneasy visage suggesting he feared a riot had broken out in the minute it had taken them to come upstairs. The lack of sudden distress overtaking the Novoloume meant one had not. “Edgy and anxious but not panicked. Broadcasting the battle on the screens was a good idea. The only thing more nerve-wracking than watching a battle for your home being waged is to know a battle for your home is being waged without knowing how it fares.”
Cosime flitted around the small office, pausing to peek out the glass to the open space below. “More people than I expected. I assumed many would have fled for safer harbor after Eren painted a giant bullseye on Chalmun Station.”
“Oh, many did flee, but an even greater number have arrived since Sator Nisi’s message aired. Most of them seem to think this is where they come to sign up for the revolution, which is what I wanted to discuss with you.”
Eren beamed with pride. The rabble flocking here to fight because of him! Well, because of Nisi. But also him. “We’ve set up a sort of ‘friends of the anarchs’ comm channel and data repository. People can use it to request resources, provide information on potential targets, and team up with other likeminded individuals—and to call for help, obviously. But newcomers don’t get told the locations of any of the Posts or invited to meetups with high-level anarch personnel. Not until they’ve proved themselves trustworthy.
“We ought to be especially cautious with Anadens claiming to want to join up. I feel for them—I’ve been them—but we need to protect our assets and our agents. Even if they’re sincere, unless they can demonstrate they’ve severed the connection to their integral, they’re apt to do the cause more harm than good.”
“Unless there are a great many of them.”
Eren frowned in Trepenos’ direction. “You think?”
“The noise generated by a significant number of fractious Anadens could disrupt the normal flow of an integral, no?”
It had been so long since Eren had felt the insidious touch of an integral, he wasn’t certain he remembered how it worked in practice. Nor did he want to. But this was serious business and he was trying to lead, after a fashion, so he thought about it nonetheless.
“It depends on the situation. A dozen or so Kyvern anarchs thinking rebellious thoughts at the same general location probably muddles the area integral cloud enough to render a loyal Kyvern on the scene—and possibly even an Inquisitor—unable to identify them individually. So you make a good point. We should have the Anadens who sign up work as teams whenever possible, ideally Dynasty-specific teams.
“But I don’t care if there are a million recalcitrant Kyverns, the Kyvern Primor will still be able to identify them individ
ually from her colossal monument to regulatory authority on Diakel. Now, if there are a million of them, she’ll require a fair spot of time to hunt them down and punish them all, and if we’re lucky our coalition will take her out before she gets that time.”
Trepenos arched a smooth, opalescent eyebrow. “Indeed. Before you go, are the two of you willing to speak to a few of the most enthusiastic and qualified volunteers? Offer a few encouraging words, perhaps give them a couple of targets? Minor, ancillary targets to get their feet wet on. It would help bring some order and purpose to what is, for now, directionless chaos.”
Eren caught the twinkle in Cosime’s eyes and smiled. “Sure, we can do that.”
4
AFS STALWART II
MILKY WAY SECTOR 17
* * *
WHEN DAVID HAD BEEN a Marine captain, he was involved in a mission that went south. People died who shouldn’t have; valuable property was destroyed that needn’t have been; havoc was wreaked to no good end and without due cause. Given that he’d been a lowly captain trying to follow orders in an impossible scenario, then trying to stay alive when everything exploded, the khrenovuyu fuckup hadn’t been his fuckup. However, this hadn’t stopped an Ethics Council tribunal from subjecting him to not hours but days of endless questioning before he was cleared of wrongdoing. During his official testimony he’d been grilled, screamed at, insulted, and had both his honor and his manhood challenged—and that was before the cross-examination.
In the years that followed he’d endured episodes of lesser inquiry and judgment dispensed from on high many times. But not until this moment, here in a rapidly filling conference room on a ship orbiting a foreign planet in a foreign universe, had he felt the crushing pressure of scrutiny so intensely as he’d felt it at that tribunal. Might as well call him a rodent and stick him in a science experiment’s maze….
Aurora Resonant: The Complete Collection (Amaranthe Collections Book 3) Page 82