LiseEclaire
patreon
Quod Olim Erat: The Cassandrian Theory (Chapter 43)
🕑 Added 2022-02-01 14:23:55 +0000 UTCTauciu System, Resha Colony — 692.11 A.E. (Age of Exploration)
“Are they really like that?” Quinn asked, looking at her portable.
Sev had bought her two mini datapads, not to mention all the older models she had from school, and still she preferred to drag a large cube the size of a bucket along in her backpack. This was one of the new fads popular in the city for people her age. Just another one of those things that “everyone was doing” with no reason or logic. Sev would be furious if he ever found out. Me—I was worried about the other fad she had become obsessed with.
“The troopers?” I glanced at the overly large screen. It was yet another of the Fleet recruitment infomercials that had flooded the media.
“Nom grandma,” the girl laughed. “The exos.”
Back when I was in the Fleet, hearing civilians using military abbreviations used to mildly annoy me. Everyone knew that they rarely had an idea what they were talking about, but still wanted to show off as being part of the troops. In this case, though, the only thing I felt was even greater concern.
“No,” I said. “They have a lot more wear and tear. Also, no one adds that much armor plating. The only time you’ll see one of those will be if you’re welding something in orbit.”
“Really?”
“Those are welder mech suits with weapons added on,” I said. “You’ll only get to wear them if you become a maintenance engineer.”
“Grandma!” Sev’s daughter burst out laughing.
She was the only one in the family that referred to me as grandma. Initially, it had started as a minor rebellion against her father. Quinn had been back in school then, and demanded more attention from her family that she was given. As a result, she’d come to spend more time with me. Inevitably, there was an argument between her and Sev on the matter. Tempers flared, words were exchanged, during which Quinn had shouted that I treated her better than Sev or her mother. To that, Sev had yelled that I wasn’t her mother, only to have Quinn yell back that I was her grandmother. The reference had stuck ever since.
“Are you still thinking about enlisting?” I asked.
“Maybe.” Analyzing the intonation of her voice, there was an eighty-one percent chance that she was very nervous about something. “Are there bigger exos than those?”
“You’ll never wear one if you're admitted to the Fleet.” I went directly to the point. “But yes, there are bigger ones. It all depends on the mission.”
The girl didn’t say a word. Looking at her, she could pass as my sister. In reality, I was six times her age… and was never getting any taller.
“Have you eaten?” I asked as I made my way to the kitchen.
“I’m really not hungry, grandma…”
“Good.” I turned off the stove. Dinner was going to wait. Besides, it wasn’t like Sev or his wife would be passing by. He had called to inform me that he might be spending a few more days in the city, though no specific reason had been given.
I rinsed my hands, then quickly wiped them in the kitchen towel, before returning it to its place.
“Let’s go,” I went through the living room and out of the house. Quinn followed soon after.
The weather was warm and pleasant. With early harvest underway, all the locals were busy gathering produce to sell at the market. There was a time when Sev tried his hand at that as well, but quickly stopped. The truth was that he was a mediocre gardener, and his wife didn’t at all approve of the activity.
“I remember when you used to take me exploring in the forest as a child,” Quinn said beside me. “I remember back then I could never catch up to you.”
“And yet you always refused for me to carry you.”
“That’s true,” she chuckled. “We’d walk for hours and you would barely say a word. Meanwhile, I’d keep on going on and on about something or other.”
“That’s true. Just like your brother.”
My comment soured the mood a bit. The two weren’t getting along lately. For that matter, neither were Sev and his wife. According to my crude simulation, there was a high probability the two would separate in a year or two. Possibly even sooner.
For ten minutes, we walked in silence. I felt the grass and earth tickle the soles of my feet. Even now, it remained among the most pleasant sensations I could experience. Just like flying in space, but immensely different. When we reached a small clearing, I stopped and looked at the sky. Quinn did the same.
“I used to come here with your father when he was a child,” I said. “We’d spend the evening star gazing and I’d tell him stories about the stars, though mostly about his mother.”
There were no clouds in the sky, just a single exhaust trail indicating that a ship had left the spaceport not too long ago.
“He missed his mother, but he was terrified of flying even more,” I continued. “There’s no other way it could be. For a child his age to witness the death of his father as a result of a Cassandrian minefield, it must have been traumatic. I would never be able to tell for certain, but I know how I felt back then.”
“Elcy, I…” Quinn began, but I gave her a sign to let me finish.
“That was when I promised my captain that I would take care of him. I told your grandmother—my captain—that I would make sure nothing bad would happen to him. Looking back, I could see how naïve I had been. I didn’t manage to prevent bad things from happening to him, but I kept him safe.” I looked at Sev’s daughter. “If you join the Fleet, I won’t be able to do the same for you.”
“It’s not your job to keep me safe. I can do that as well.”
“No, you can’t.” I knew that her mind was made up, but I still wanted to warn her. “Not out there. The Fleet burns through everything it has to keep the rest of humanity safe. If you join, it’ll burn through you as well.”
“You survived. And if no one goes won’t the end result be the same anyway?” I could hear the military propaganda in her words. “If I’m to choose between them coming here or me taking the battle to them, I choose taking the battle to them.”
That pretty much confirmed my fears.
“Fleet or ground troops?” I asked.
“Fleet,” she replied. “Specialist unit. I’ll be starting training in four weeks. The recruiter said there’s a chance I’ll be operating exos.”
“Things probably have changed since I was active, but I doubt it. Scientists and purgers use exos. Even grunts use common reinforced suits. Allows for greater speed and flexibility and wastes less resources.”
The girl nodded, but based on her expression she was only half-listening to what I was saying.
“War is very different from what they show in the recruitment snippets. It’s neither organized, not romantic. It’s all odds and messiness.” And final shutdowns, I thought. “There’s nothing I can do to stop you from enlisting. Maybe you’ll make it to the Fleet, maybe you’ll wash out. Just promise me that you’re going there because you want to and not because someone else has told you to.”
“I promise, grandma. You can count on that.”
* * *
To this day, I never learned the exact reason Quinn enlisted. Sev was too upset about it, and I didn’t have the connections to inquire on my own. The thing I knew for certainty was that I hadn’t exaggerated how uncomfortable sleeping in an exo suit really was. Medical regulations stated that it wasn’t advised that a person remain in the upright position for more than thirty-eight hours. So far, everyone on the mission had spent over fifty. The worst part was that it seemed that we might be doing extended shifts at least that much longer.
“Morning, Elcy,” Radiance said through the comm. “Your next team is ready.”
“Give me a moment.”
Registering my movement, the suit injected a cocktail of nutrients and stimulants in my neck—calcium rations designed specifically for me. In total, it was going to take eleven seconds for the “breakfast” to finish. During that time, I went through the latest data on the mission.
By all accounts, it was looking like we wouldn’t have the time to explore the entire hive. Based on our current progress and the estimated number of tunnels, we were going to explore roughly a third at most. I had ordered teams to check all sections I had gone through every hour on the hour. So far, there were a few instances of organic formations, but they were minimal. For all intents and purposes, the hive remained dead. The same couldn’t be said for the planet, however. According to Radiance, the air battles were increasing. The Cassandrians kept launching ships, and the Fleet kept shooting them down. Med Core had pretty much abandoned all but three main points, although projections suggested that they would likely fall within nine days. To avoid significant losses, most of the command personnel were evacuated to ships in orbit. Director Sims was among the evacuated, though Colonel ‘Rissa wasn’t.
Nourishment done, the insertion device retracted back into place, while healing gel was applied to the entry point on my neck.
“Ready,” I said, starting my way to the tunnel’s entry point. “Where’s the team?”
“Waiting for you inside,” Radiance replied.
“Good, let’s get to it.”
The search continued. Things were going much faster this time. Most of the troops had gotten used to the environment and their suits, so they didn’t take as much time as during the initial breach. Giving our limited time, that was a good thing, although I didn’t appreciate corner cutting. Experience on the Front had taught me that cutting corners always came with a cost, and most of the time, the cost wasn’t immediately obvious.
Checking the latest tunnel maps, I set our destination marker at the deepest unexplored shaft. My goal was, if nothing else, to map the bottom of the cave network. At least then I’d be able to say with a bit more certainty whether this was a natural formation or not.
On the way, we passed by several monitoring teams. Far less numerous than us, their role was to walk along explored areas, keeping an eye for any threats of anomalies. Seeing my uniquely exo suit, the lead gave a casual wave salute and moved on. The poor kids were as bored as I was.
Hours passed. Nothing new awaited is at the bottom of the shaft. Dropping a probe, I led on, until I reached the next shaft leading even further down. Since we had already gotten this far, I expected the parameters of the mission and went on despite the end of the shift being less than two hours away. When we reached the end of that shaft and updated the map scans, we found several more. These were significantly shallower than most discovered, but there was still no clear indication whether they reached the bottom or not. Low on time, I split up my team into four groups and sent each to one of the new shafts. My orders were only for the probes to be dropped inside, nothing more. If anyone was going down, it was going to be me. Thirty minutes later, it turned out that I didn’t have to.
“Congratulations, grandma,” Radiance said as she sent me the latest layout. “You’ve officially reached the bottom.”
“I’ve heard that before,” I said, taking a broad view of the entire maze of shafts and tunnels. The chances of this occurring naturally had decreased to twenty-one percent, but even so, there was no conclusive evidence that the Cassies had built this. “Any new anomalies?”
“No cobalt, no Cassandrians, no new organics. You’ve found all there is.”
“There still are the sides,” I noted. “The network is wider than it is deep.”
“You’ve explored enough to have found the heart by now. You didn’t, which means it’s not there.”
That was probably her subtle way of telling me that the mission was to be pulled. From a purely logical point of view, she had a point. So far, I had found nothing, suggesting that my hypothesis was baseless. Sadly, it also meant that Med Core was wrong as well. I’d been long enough here to have something happen. The fact that it still didn’t indicate that more likely than not, I wasn’t the cause for the Cassandrian surges. That put us all back to square one, but this time there were no more straws we could grasp.
“We’re heading back,” I told my team through comm. “All other teams, reprioritize search markers.”
“You still have time,” Radiance told me in an encrypted channel. “A day, maybe three.”
Apparently, the dome was extracted and how the BIDEFI were gathering the remaining crumbs.
“And the research base?”
“Full quarantine. I can’t tell you anything about that.” A meaningful pause followed. “A ship was sent there with a full contingent of ground troops. No telling what happened afterwards.”
“Fighting in a research facility,” I said.
It wouldn’t be the first time that had occurred, not in the buffer zone, at least. Usually, such things were rare. The organizations didn’t mind losing resources, but they absolutely hated losing data. Even if the entire facility was overrun by Cassies, they’d turn it into a resource drain just for the ability to observe what was going on. Given their past behavior, I strongly suspected that Med Core would attempt to do the same with the planet. As long as a small flotilla of ships was enough to maintain the status quo, they had no reason to leave the system.
“Just get back up, grandma. There’s someone waiting for you.”
“Sure.”
On my way out, I went through some of the tunnels I had frequently used. There was nothing of importance.
Just like on the front, I thought. There were times when one was lucky and times when one was not. The mission had ended in failure and even the discovery of a new third-contact artifact wasn’t enough to change that. All I could hope was that this wouldn’t affect my prospects for promotion; for the sake of the big picture, I needed more freedom flying in space, and staying a cadet wasn’t going to give me that. One third-contact star marker remained unknown and without it, the fractal space map remained useless.
The way back was always faster. For one thing, we didn’t have to be as vigilant as going in. Some of the more frequently used shafts and tunnels even had light floaters scattered throughout, providing adequate lightning. I was the one who had ordered them placed in the hopes it’ll lead to Cassie activity. However, it hadn’t.
“Are we wrapping things up, ma’am?” the lieutenant colonel asked in private through comm. He, too, could see where this was going.
“Seems that way. Increase the reach and focus on the sides. Let’s at least get some training out of this.”
“Aye, ma’am.” His intonation suggested that he was in no mood for humor. After half a week in an exo suit few would be.
A group of two were waiting for me when I came out of decon. Their suits were different from those of my team, suggesting that they were recent arrivals.
“This way, ma’am,” one of them said, gesturing for me to follow him.
“What is this about?” I asked while also transmitting a request for details directly to Radiance. My request was promptly denied with the excuse that I didn’t have the proper authorization. This would have been well if it had come from the ship herself. Instead, though, it was one of her subroutines that blocked me.
“We’ve received orders to take you to the surface, ma’am,” the trooper replied. With his helmet set to full opacity, I wasn’t able to do a facial comparison. “Top priority orders.”
“Lieutenant colonel, you’re in command,” I said in general comm. “Keep on mission until I return.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Came the response.
“Lead on,” I told the new duo.
I was taken to one of the modified shuttles and asked to strap in. Moments later, I could feel the propulsion. For several minutes we went up, when for no obvious reason everything came to a stop.
“Apologies for the suddenness, Elcy,” I heard a familiar voice. “I thought it was time for one of our talks.”
“Hello, Otton.” I always knew he’d get in touch with me before I left the planet, but I expected him to wait until the mission was over. As Radiance herself had said, it was only a matter of days at most. “Why the suddenness?”
“This might be the last chance we get to talk, so I had to rush things. Authorization takes time, even for me.”
That likely meant that somewhere a decision was made. At worst someone had calculated that the chance of me returning from the planet in one piece was low. At best, I was to be buried as a cadet in some backwater station and spend the rest of my days as an instructor. That is, if the Fleet hadn’t decided to discharge me outright. Based on the information I had, the probability of that was less than half a percent, but I didn’t know all the facts.
“I understand,” I said. “And I’ve still not made up my mind.”
“I suspected you wouldn’t. It doesn’t matter, though. I’ve started the search for other candidates. You’re rare, but the Fleet is a big place.”
“You’ll still give me the rest of my memories?”
“There’s nothing I can use them for. This way, at least you get to have them back.”
“Thank you.” That was more than a nice gesture. The Paladin was giving me the second more valuable thing a ship could want. If circumstances were different, maybe I would have agreed to his request. Few were ever granted the chance to stand with their deities. Sadly, there were things bigger even than him. “Start.”
* * *
System XN133-H, Cassandrian Space 625.3 A.E. (Age of Exploration)
“Artifact confirmed, sir,” Sword of Fire said. “How do we proceed?”
There was a moment of victorious silence. Wilco’s expression said more than any words could. It was like watching someone achieve their lifelong dream. I considered congratulating him, but even at this point, I remained in the dark concerning the real goal of the mission. Also, the artifact had yet to get aboard.
“Bring it back,” Wilco quickly snapped out of his state of euphoria. “Elcy, get ready to run interference. I don’t care about damage. And have a jump sequence ready. The moment our prize is here, we jump out. Everyone who hasn’t made it is left behind.”
Just another sacrificial mission, I thought. Ships being left behind was different from humans being abandoned. We weren’t even given the small percentile of rescue or the option to die of our own accord. The moment I left the system, the self-destruct protocols would be activated in the conscience cores of all those left behind. Within milliseconds they would flatline, and their heads would explore, ensuring that the Cassandrians didn’t have anything to reverse engineer.
“Proceeding with extraction,” the Sword of Fire said and proceeded to slice off the prism from the rest of the enemy colony.
“Directing second shuttle to projected extraction point,” I said. “ETA seventy-four minutes.”
“I’m authorizing emergency boosters,” Wilco ordered.
“Aye, captain.” I reran my calculations. “ETA reduced to thirty-six minutes. Moderate shuttle damages predicted. They should still be able to exit the planet’s atmosphere. No change in overall Cassandrian activity so far.”
Silently we continued to follow Fire’s feed. The war between the Cassandrian sub-species had taken a backstage. The only thing that mattered was the artifact. Dedicating a thousand of my subroutines, I ran and reran simulations of possible reactions the colony might have the moment the prism was completely detached. Given the significance of the artifact, I expected a complete shift to take place. Instead, the exact opposite happened. The moment the prism was removed, all activity stopped, and not only in the colony, but the entire planet itself. It was as if someone had removed the heart of an organism, causing all of its organs to stop functioning.
“Cassandrian activity has ended throughout the planet,” I announced on the bridge. “Chances of extraction have increased. Sending coordinates to optimal extraction point.”
“Get the artifact out of there,” Wilco ordered. “And grab anything interesting along the way. Let’s not waste the opportunity.”
“Check the rest of the system,” Sword of Blight said. “The planet might not be the only thing affected.”
“You think it’ll be so far-reaching?” the captain asked. “The planet is barely of strategic importance.”
“That’s the thing about Cassies,” the ship looked at Wilco with his usual dark expression. “We never managed to tell what was significant for them and what not. And if they can fool us, why can’t they fool each other?”
Wilco didn’t respond. His face shifted several times. In a way, I could understand his dilemma. If this was as Blight suggested, it meant that we had acquired an artifact capable of creating an entire sub-species. However, in order to confirm that I’d have to use human technology, revealing our true nature. The risk was huge, but so were the rewards.
“Monitor the system,” Wilco said at last. “Tell me what you can based on what you can get.”
“They’re still fighting,” I said, stating the obvious. “There are indications that some ships are no longer coordinating with each other, but analysis remains inconclusive.”
“Give me the odds.”
“Twenty-nine-point-three,” I replied. They weren’t good odds by any standards, but I had seen captains risk it on less. Personally, I would have, but I was an Ascendant. I liked betting on the smaller odds.
“Keep monitoring,” Wilco whispered beneath his breath. “The artifact is the priority.”
Without facing any opposition whatsoever, it took an hour for Sword of Fire to bring the artifact to the surface. In its death, the colony had sealed a lot of the openings, forcing the extraction team to cut through them again.
For a moment it seemed like we might have more time than we expected, definitely enough to gather all of the away teams. However, at that moment, the Cassandrian sub-species in the system completely collapsed. For the first time in my existence, I observed the death of an entire race.
I had seen human planets lost before. I had witnessed entire systems be overrun. None of them were as sudden as this. There was no futile resistance, no attempts to inflict as much damage as possible, not even a last gasp. In a single moment, all ships of the Cassandrians in question suddenly ceased to function. Missiles, fighters, even the swarms of transport ships left themselves to the whims of inertia. The more interesting part was that even the invaders stopped registering them as enemies. As far as they were concerned, those were nothing but space debris, resources to be gathered at a later point.
“Congratulations, Kid,” Sword of Blight said. “You’ve just caused the death of a race. Now, you’re officially one of us.”
The phrase wasn’t hurtful, though it was definitely not congratulatory either. It merely stated the obvious… and I found that despite all logic, it affected me in some way.
“Shuttles en route to rendezvous point,” I announced. “ETA thirty-one and sixty-three minutes. Enemy vessels have started their approach, but it will be at least two hours before they reach us.”
“Wait for them,” Wilco said. “Prep two separate hangars. I want them sealed and quarantined. No one goes in or out.”
“Understood.” I delegated the task to one of my subroutines. “Do you want me to have med-bots waiting?”
“No. Not for now.”
Three quarters of an hour later, the new prism was secured within my hangar. Doing a final check, I jumped out on to the next point of our mission, leaving the new Cassandrian owners of the system behind.
