“We don’t like to think of ourselves in such a way,” said Paragus.
He was right.
But she was glad for the results. Red Ten’s missive, while obviously odious in his mind, gave her joy. She wanted to see what Harbinger One was made of, and they were showing her. They were showing her in a way that no mission report or operational success statistic ever could.
“... but we take on the role, regardless of our ontological limitations.”
Vala blinked. “I’m sorry. I drifted off.”
“Oh, I don’t blame you. My rambling is by far the least interesting thing going on up here.”
He wasn’t wrong. Though she enjoyed hearing Paragus and his contemporaries dispense their lore, the site before her stirred her soul like nothing ever had.
“I think it’s working, Paragus.”
“I think so too, Vala.”
Black Fountain strode between the vessels as they emptied. He held up one of his hands and pretended to caress the glowing mist rising. “To Ulro.”
Paragus furrowed his brow and raised a hand. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. First, we have to make sure this is actually working, and then we need to identify what factors made it work. We have the obelisk, which we don’t understand. It could be the materials it’s made up of, or the signal it’s emitting. It could be the device floating overhead that seems to be acting as both a catalyst and a conduit. Or it could simply be that we have the exact vessels which their radiance was stored in.”
“And we don’t know what state they’ll be in if they manage to reassemble,” Vala added.
Paragus shrugged. “Also true. I’m excited, of course, Fountain. Be let’s be patient.”
Vala looked at Black Fountain, smiling sadly at her brave friend. She caught Paragus observing her and gave him a reassuring nod. As brave as all of them truly were, it seemed that Fountain was always carrying more of the load, taking more of the shots, feeling more of the grief. And he was now the most eager to win back harbingers lost in battles past.
“I’ve something I’d like your thoughts on.”
They both looked at her.
“Ramses has been prodding me to form a new team. I’ve delayed out of grief, not wanting to discuss it openly. I was discussing the state of Harbinger One with Revol, and it occurred to me that we will not succeed in winning this war unless we adapt. Until we reunite with Albion, I think it would be wise if we disbanded the teams and functioned as an army; fluid, mobile and adaptable.”
They were both silent for a while, then Black Fountain spoke.
“Sometimes we need more soldiers here, and less soldiers there.”
“Best not to be too rigid,” Paragus said. “We could reorganize based on skillsets; infantry, infiltration, space combat. And we could form fireteams based on needed skills and team size.”
“And we must learn to fight as an army,” said Black Fountain. “We must train, learning from the mistakes we have recently made.”
“While thinking ahead as well,” Paragus added. “We don’t want to only be ready for the previous battle.”
She felt surprised. “I expected an argument. We’ve always been organized in the teams. I imagined you both resisting such a major change.”
Paragus shrugged. “We’ve got to do what works best, Vala.”
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Black Fountain lumbered toward her and put one of his lower hands on her shoulder. “We will enforce your decision, whatever it be.”
She patted his hand. “Thank you. We’ll have a banquet and I’ll make the announcement. Hopefully I’ll have something to report about our fallen comrades.”
Paragus suddenly looked at the Anunnaki shells, then the sky.
“Share your thoughts,” said Black Fountain.
“Those lost to the Surge… surely… if the Anunnaki…”
Vala felt her heart leap. “How could we draw them down? And could we make vessels for them to convalesce in? Like what Forge constructed for Revol?”
To that Paragus shrugged. “Forge’s tinkering skills are legendary, but I’m sure we can figure something out. I just worry this might be a diversion from more important matters.”
“What could be more important than bringing back our brethren?” asked Fountain.
“Not losing any more of our brethren.”
Vala looked upward at the beam firing constantly into the sky. The Sentinels found Samhadi via that beam, and the object above (the resonance rod, as Niche called it) was somehow healing and preserving their very souls.
She took in a deep breath. “There are many questions I would have answered. We’ve fought the Surge before. Why now is it ripping our essence from our forms? Not to mention this tower’s purpose. This world is special, and we need to keep it out of our enemy’s hands. Our priority needs to remain defense.”
Black Fountain shook two of his heads; his feeding head imitating the thinking one. But the hunter head snarled. “Have we heard from Catalyst?”
“No. But Red Ten sent us a subspace. It should arrive soon.”
And so it did. They left the zenith on one of the munitions drones they hoisted the Anunnaki shells up with and had barely walked through the command tent door when Ramses himself came with a data crystal in his hand.
“Hot off the press,” he said.
They viewed it’s contents in Vala’s office, seated on the large sofa in front of her view screen.
All three of Black Fountain’s heads grinned. “I wish my team was with them.”
“So do I,” Vala said, more than a little angry. “I’d have you haul them all back. I trusted Catalyst.”
“Our general still does,” said Ramses.
“I’m sure there’s a good reason for his actions,” said Paragus.
Vala sighed and folded her arms. “And we’d know that if he’d bothered to send a missive himself. But we’re hearing this from Red Ten. That’s what mostly irritates me. Damn it. I wanted recon, not an ill-prepared assault.” She replayed that part of the missive, noting the look of concern in Red Ten’s eyes when he repeated Revol’s words.
“But why is Red following them?” Ramses mused. “Ya’d think he would insist on coming back.”
“Perhaps he hopes to talk them out of it,” said Paragus, “while gaining intel on the planet.”
“This is Solomon’s brood,” Fountain added.
“True,” said Vala, recalling the headaches Solomon caused in the decades leading up to his departure. “With so little intel, though. Why this planet?”
“They’ve been to Ulro and back, Vala,” Paragus said. “I imagine that changed them in more ways than we’ve observed.”
“You think they sensed something on an esoteric level?”
“I do.”
Black Fountain leaned against the back of the couch; his massive torso barely supported by its relatively short height. “Catalyst was inside our enemy’s mind.” His hunter head snapped its lean jaws. “He hears him still.”
“What will we do, Colonel?” asked Ramses.
And Vala pondered the way before her. She had her orders, but much had changed, and she was not in contact with command. Should she walk the path of the warrior and decide for her tribe? Sensus did tell his team to think of themselves as warriors. He told them no less or more than what he now told her, she being his subordinate and beholden to the mysteries of command. But she was a soldier, and she knew that a good soldier did not use orders as a crutch.
“We need to keep the tower from Orak,” she said. “Easier to do if he no longer exists. And if the kzinti come here in force, we can perhaps hold our ground for a while, but in time they’ll beat us back and take what they want.”
“They had no interest in this place before they sided with Ulro,” said Ramses.
Black Fountain stood, his hunter head salivating. “Will the army march?”
Vala stood, followed by Ramses and Paragus. “The army will march.”