* ● ● A Private Aircraft over the Pacific Ocean
Even up here in the sky, this guy… Marian was still not sure what to think about the contradiction of technology that was still the dominant scene for them as she held a pair of thermoses of tea in hand. Strewn across an inflight desk were several data slates and yellow legal pads and at the head of the table was Isaiah, hastily scrawling notes upon one of the pads as his eyes scanned over yet another slate. Placing a thermos in front of him, he drew his gaze up from the slate and met her own gaze.
“Thanks,” he said, placing the pen down on the pad, he grabbed the thermos, unscrewed the top as Marian took a seat across from him, watching as he took a sip from it. The dark bags under his eyes only serving to highlight the fact that he hadn’t rested since they had left Bogota, instead burying himself in work even before they were wheels up and on their way across the Pacific.
“You need to get some rest,” she found herself saying after he placed down the thermos, before going back to jotting notes on the tablet, his left hand gliding over the tablet and retrieving whatever information he sought. “If there was any time to get even just a bit extra shut-eye, now would obviously be the time to afford such.”
“I’ll rest when I get this done, Marian,” came the rebuttal, his eyes not leaving the slate.
Frowning, she reached across the desk and placed her hand in front of the pad, stopping him from writing further and drawing his gaze back to her, “You won't be doing anyone any favors if you collapse in exhaustion.”
What she did not mention is that she knew why he was driving himself so hard, knowing how the detonation of the EMP device in Bogota had been an emergency insurance policy and not part of any of the initial planning for the operations on Colombia. By choosing to escalate so dramatically in the early stages of the operation had changed the complexion of everything going forward. But it was also the fact that she knew, in the years working closely with him prior to their reunion in Bogota, Isaiah also felt personally responsible for using it in the very first place and intended to make it worth it.
He kept her gaze for a few moments, before his shoulders slumped in accepted defeat and he allowed the pen to drop to the pad, seeming to age a decade before her eyes. He leaned back in the chair and wiped his hands over his face, abrading it upon the stubble that had grown more pronounced. Whatever he was going to say in resignation to her, however, was interrupted by the lighting up of his mobile, Marian noting, to her irritation, that the caller was simply titled “Rex”. Isaiah’s worn sigh drew her back to him as he reached from the phone, and activated it.
“You know why we are calling,” the digitally altered voice on the other end began, not even bothering with a greeting. Marian couldn’t help but bristle at the tone, like a schoolteacher admonishing a misbehaving child.
“And if any of you had bothered to read my initial after-action report, you would recognize that I was left with little choice but to activate that contingency,” he flatly responded as he reached up to massage the bridge of his nose.
“A contingency you did not confer with us before deciding to execute. All you have done is create a massive following for Infinity. Do you realize the opportunity you have handed them on a silver platter in building a positive image?”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sam and the rest of the crew of one dozen were in construction outfits, working together to replace a broken transformer unit from one of the power stations near a major train station. Everyone else surrounding them was in similar dress, digging and placing better shielded cables. A Hexa-marked fleet of trucks were lined up nearby, loaded with necessary tools and supplies.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Marian opened her mouth to angrily retort at the accusation being leveled, only to stop as Isaiah held up a hand. A flash of irritation welled up at the idea of being told to be silent by anyone, even Isaiah, but kept from voicing it as he conveyed a lot more in the gaze, he leveled towards her than any words. Grudgingly, she accepted that he wanted to make this his fight alone, she settled back in her own chair as she took a sip of tea, resisting the urge to grumble.
“I beg to differ,” he returned coolly, his eyes never leaving hers for a few more moments before they returned back to one of the slates, even as he offered more, “All that has been done is that our actions in Bogota have highlighted the inadequacies of the current nation-state system. If the South American Union wasn’t mired in its own corruption and petty interests, it could have easily quashed our actions long before Hexa would have ever bothered to get involved.”
“That wasn’t the purpose of the Bogota operation, Reaper. We sent you to overthrow the government and replace it with a pro-Reformist regime, not reduce its infrastructure back to the stone age. Do you have any idea of the damage you have caused with your actions and that infernal EMP device?”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
People of all ages were with push brooms, garbage receptacles, and pans, sweeping up broken glass that had fallen all over the sidewalks as others between them were working to dig out broken asphalt from the street’s impact craters. Some spoke of the day they saw the immediate aftermath the Axiom left in its wake during that unforgettable day. Sebastian walked behind a large cable spool carrying truck that made a stop near a few of the Ap50 LTACs his group had piloted. He motioned one of the LTACs to approach the truck, signaling the pickup of the cable spools. Sam hopped down from the passenger seat of the cargo truck to meet up with Sebastian, showing him a roadwork blueprint of that repair site just beyond the aftermath site.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Are you referring to the human, political, or the financial cost?” Isaiah continued.
“You know damn well what we are referring to!”
“No, I actually don’t. Because when the decision was made to greenlight the Bogota operation, I cautioned that any on-the-fly unilateral changes once started would be detrimental to our long-term goals. Both Cable and I warned you that relying upon untrained and under-equipped local assets with questionable loyalty that you forced upon us would result in events that could easily escalate the theater beyond our control. Changes in plan would only have been successful with the right, experienced contingents in place.”
“Do not blame us for your failure, Reaper,” the voice hissed, “we have made a significant investment into you and we expect returns upon that investment. Now, while the opportunity exists, and not three years from now. If you cannot back your promises—”
“You presume that Bogota was a failure, Rex. It was not.”
Rex fell silent on the other end of the line, obviously incredulous by the statement that was just made, and Marian found herself somewhat matching it. By her own reckoning, Bogota was a failure for them, they had not achieved their military or political objectives. So, what was it that would cause Isaiah to claim otherwise?
“Explain. Now.”
“Do you really think there was no shift in anything, politically speaking?” Before I explain what I feel should be very well obvious, you saw the collateral caused by the locals Infinity had armed.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Newspapers were back in circulation without electricity restored anywhere as of yet. Brought in from nearby cities, some showed front pages either blasting Hexa and Infinity for fueling the fires of violence, some with Sam’s face as the root cause of it all. Some championed the local’s heroic efforts to stem the influx of armed foreigners, but the former outnumbered the latter by a large margin. It was also the latter that had more papers remaining in the baskets.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“You know exceptionally well Rex that if we had backed off, we would see the absolute obliteration of every soul sent to support our movement, because that’s exactly what the new shipment from Infinity had in mind when they sent the Axiom and their newest models to go along with it.”
“And what did the setting off of that EMP off do to them? They were fully shielded, of course!”
“It spared the lives of those in the unshielded Gammas and Kappas. They could retreat with their lives. And the ones that didn’t, well, you and I both know by now that there was evidence Infinity used noble gas fission technology in their updated armaments. Hybridized rounds. Physical in weight and momentum, plasma-powered speed in cutting efficiency. My men already audio recorded the particular crackling sound it sends off from even kilometers away. Rockets in the streets? Craters that used to be parking lanes? The damage Hexa has caused is unmistakably remarkable. People won’t forgive them if they feel they were on the receiving end of the assault.”
“And whose job is that?” He waited a second as if he could see Isaiah’s averting eyes so that he could continue. “Exactly. That’s our job. You gave us a hell of a job to plug in the right lawmakers and representatives that can do exactly that. You don’t even have to worry about who does and doesn’t win at the polls. We do, and we’d appreciate you not making our job as hard as humanly possible.”
“Look,” Isaiah said with his patience fully tested. “You gave my team a duty to fulfill. We succeeded. The disaster that played out met the worst amount of support for it possible. If this was the Confederacy RANE once was, the military swooped in the minute the first parliament building attack came. How many weeks late is the SAU? We won and you know it. We won but it was just simply a less convenient avenue for you and the pencil pushers. My calculated attacks did what they needed, and the last-resort EMP was to secure the mess Hexa would have to clean up without making any accidental wrong moves politically. Vincent Vrey is terrible with handling PR, which you already know. And… so is his new logistics and communications director. By the end of next week, expect big changes from the SAU, be them late or not. Mark my word.”
“You get Dhaka for two weeks,” the voice said, changing the subject. “If you can’t repeat the same results without EMP or anything idiotically destructive, I will see to it personally that you are cut from us. You, Cable, everyone in your group.”
Marian looked up to see Isaiah was now finished with the call, watching him swipe away the video screen. She was sitting across from him, her chair against the front bulkhead. “I’m still waiting on that Knight in you to kick in, take a drink for once, and let it all slide.”
“It’s not bothering me that much,” he said as he waved her comment off. “I just sometimes get sickened by the thought that our little party has the same tendencies as my people back home. Everyone is so damned quick to forget what even got us here. It’s not like I ever get to meet any of them in person to say I have anything close to a connection to any of them, but everyone would rather we just throw them to the wolves to get their quick W.” He then leaned back, filing his papers away into an old manila folder as he sighed. “It’s now worse as I realize my father is doing the same. You’d think after the lives he had watched taken away in front of his eyes throughout two whole wars, he’d learn to have some perspective for once. But no, instead, the ones hired for us were gunned down in the streets by the latest, state-of-the-art LTAC technology he likely had a hand in rushing to live field testing. Just like the old days…”
“No one saves the world, remember?” Marian spoke solemnly as she was now looking out the window. “I watched Lance take his last breaths, thinking he could do just that. Everyone wants to save the world, but no one can bear the load without losing their life in the process.” She then looked back to him. “Don’t tell me you are getting ideas again.” She reached over to grab the manila folder he had just closed, seeing his expression change from irritated to defensive.
“Marian, stop.”
She did not take more than a second to find he had been writing alternate armor placement suggestions alongside weapon materials, none the surprised with what she saw. “You’ve spent more than a year on the Samael’s equipment and now you are already trying to prepare for more customizations? Isaiah, I thought you were working on getting away from direct involvement?”
“You don’t think I realize I have to stay alive to get anything done?” he retorted, taking the folder back from her hands. “No one is trying to be a hero here. I just want business done right and staying alive to see everything out to the end is obviously one of my top priorities.” He then took out one of the messily drawn diagrams from the folder and passed it to her. “This is what I got back from Elias and Tamaz earlier. You of all people should remember all too well what kind of damage these can do. We aren’t exactly at the advantage level we were a few days ago.”
Marian saw the notations on the hybridized rounds used by the Hexa models that day. In an instant, flashbacks from her piloting days had her remembering the terrible ear-ringing crackles that rang out from each burst she had fired from her old war B8 model MBI along with the louder, thunderous claps from air-ionizing particle weaponry fired her direction. She passed the paper back to him with a shake of her head. “Armor won’t save you from that, and you know it. Isaiah, this isn’t your fight to take part in. You aren’t going to Dhaka to do anything more than coordinate as planned.” She then paused as she realized he had to have thought about that already. “You are bringing back reflective coating? How?”
“I have to explore my routes once we arrive, but I feel there will be plenty of new options in wake of the recent events,” he said as he calmed down. “I didn’t bother telling this to the top as we don’t see the results the same way from Bogota, but with Sam on her way home and the high chances Hexa gets forced by international pressure to dial back on hybridized tech, we will stand to strike back with ferocity unchecked. The SAU could have been a potential nightmare to work around had they gotten involved too soon, but with Dhaka? Bangladesh has no higher authority lingering around to reign in domestic issues that go out of control.” He then sifted through another folder, expecting another response from her but instead found her patience. “You know, of course I have other ideas, just in case. Do you mind helping me with figuring out this guy? He might be key in getting us in and out of there within the week,” he spoke as he pointed to a small photo of a political figure in Bangladesh.
“Sure,” she said as she took a quick glance before looking back at him. “But before that, I was waiting on your call to end to remind you about the jammers Tamaz and Elias set. They are likely to have already been discovered by now. Are those two waiting on anything else? Because I haven’t heard a peep about them or from them since.”
“I couldn’t know what the Galeano dozen was going to do after their leader was taken down. Their orbital cameras might have had a good eye on them leaving for Medellin, and the last thing I want is Hexa adding two and two together so I will keep our guys hanging around there until everything settles down, just in case.”
“And for your sister to skip town?”
“You’ll hate me for saying it, but I will continue to avoid that topic for a reason.”
“Of course you would say that. And you still act like I never hated your guts before,” she replied with a smirk.
“You might start hating me again,” he said without returning the expression. “Everything we spoke of has me going back down the old road again. Do you genuinely think I can do this as a passive, hands-off coordinator?”
“Yes,” she firmly responded. “Yes, I do. That’s what I’ve been here to help you succeed in all this time. I understand what you went through unlike anyone else, and I will stand by what I said in that you won’t have to be a hero… You won’t have to resort to the sword at every obstacle like before.” She didn’t see any change whatsoever in his expression as he once again shifted his focus to the floor between them. “You need to one day be able to make a promise to yourself. You expect those around you to make a change for the better; to learn to stop the needless sacrifice of others. That will only continue to change for the better if you continue to model that change. This is a set goal you can’t afford to stray from.”
“Efficiency of old clashes with inefficiency of the ideal,” he said as he looked back at her. “But you are right. Efficiency alone doesn’t mean the right job gets done. I will rethink my approach.”
▽ ▽ ▽
(One Week Later)
* ● ● Akkadia One, Eden Space Territories
Al’s office monitors were all active, most hovering over various Southeast Asian countries’ maps. On one monitor, the same Singapore SRC operative from the second Colombia drop day was active on voice. “News has reached the military branches of the governments in basically every country in our region, sir,” the man spoke.
Al’s forehead wrinkled with discontent. “Well, I did overstep a bit with the rifle choice after all, but damn it those things gave us every upper hand possible.” He straightened up before bringing up a new screen where he started typing. “Nevermind, scratch the request. Keep the new recruits on standard round issued rifles for those needing the equipment. We can’t have this area giving us the same bad rep. Will stick with the updated rules of engagement until further notice.” He then glanced back at the damage photos from across parts of Kennedy District in Bogota. “Yeah, and to think these kinds of noise levels would have locals shitting their pants in any situation. Understood.” He then started to chuckle in disbelief, drawing a confused look from the Singapore operative.
“Did I leave something out?”
“Sorry, just realizing something. It’s nothing.” He then continued in thought to remember the engagement style his old wing mate Saffire Raven had; with her brash, high-collateral but high efficiency ways of offering fire support, Al laughed at the notion his daughter was somehow already becoming that similar in style to her unofficial counselor. What the hell has she been teaching her in private? he thought to himself, continuing to type the rules of engagement update reminder. Attached to the request was a spec sheet for the “NGF-Hybridized Marksmen Rifle”, looking to be the exact same model Sebastian and half of his crew had been using.
“Very well, sir,” the operative continued. “I will continue on my end and will report back once we get any further updates from Dhaka or Mandalay.”
As he logged out, Vincent’s name showed up as incoming. Al took in a breath and straightened his posture once more. “I take it the board is still hounding us about the expenditure outlook?”
“Almost on target,” Vincent replied. “We have to back off the Ap50 production and deployment by more than half. We are going to end up with too much overstock on the Ai20, but I assume you’ve already seen the package adjustments. I came to let you know we are halting all further deployment of hybridized NGF tech until further notice.”
“And where is that coming from?” Al responded in disbelief.
“I appreciate the incredible advances you have overseen throughout the past week, both in Colombia and the eastern seaboard, but aside from debatable spending, too many international powers are upset at the rate of increase in firepower we are employing. We need to cut a few compromises here and there until we get more on our side. Sweeper satellite usage will also be dialed back to only countries with full authorization signatures.” Vincent paused, expecting a retort, but only saw Al continuing to type. “I assumed your daughter would have returned by now. Any updates from her?”