“There are three gunships ready to contest Calderan orbit on immediate notice,” Smyrna continued. “A strike force of eight Shrike fighters is now entering the planet’s atmosphere, ready to provide substantial fire support, if you have need. Doctor Gilah at the Rackeye facility has informed us that she is able to guarantee production of fuel and ordinance to resupply them, and enable them to continue supporting you for as long as necessary. As you know, the Urban Ranger Battalion is on standby outside the city, ready to intervene, along with the remaining companies of Mountain Battalion. As we speak, the council is mobilizing every available warship and unit currently on Tyr, to make haste to Caldera with an expected timeline of twenty-four hours.”
There was another short pause.
Overwhelmed by the insanity of the situation, Kayla could think of nothing more useful to add than “Yes, ma’am.”
“Should your situation become untenable, you will pass the code word ‘Anubis’ to the Banshee, and element Raven will assist you in preserving your defenses by whatever means necessary. Our organization will then exist in a state of open war with the Helvetic League, to the extent of protecting ourselves, and the planet of Caldera from any external aggression.”
“Oh my god,” Ray muttered. “I guess it’s official.”
“Should you manage to extricate your squad from foreseeable danger,” Smyrna added, “and be able to safely exfiltrate the city, you must pass the code word ‘Helios’. Now, Barnes, is there anything you wish to inform us of at this time?”
Kayla waited a few seconds for her mind to catch up. “Uh… yes, ma’am, we have attained the probable location of Allana Rayker and the Omega site. I will have it transmitted momentarily, but it’s about two hundred miles west of Rackeye.”
There was a short pause, filled with radio static. “Outstanding work again, Barnes. An assault will be planned for that target.”
“Our squad would like to participate, ma’am, as soon as we get out of here.”
“I have no doubt. To finish, I will make you aware that the task force’s intelligence assets are currently working hard on measures to bring your stand off to a peaceful conclusion. Updates will be sent to you directly.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Persevere and you will be sure to overcome, Lance-corporal Barnes. All the stars of the galaxy are shining down upon you. Banshee, out.”
Kayla sat and stared at nothing for a long moment. In the darker corners of her mind, a scene played out. It involved Thandi sniping a few Sentinel agents until the cops turned on them and assaulted the building. Then, after a long battle which Valkyrie would easily win, her home world would be free from the League. The whole Mountain Ranger battalion could assault the Omega site undisturbed, kill Rayker, and free Christie, Milani, and the other Rangers. The galaxy would see that a force had stood up to the corruption of the League, and other planets would be inspired to do the same. The fantasy went on and on, leading to an incredible future for all mankind.
Of course, that was the problem with fantasies. They didn’t cost lives, or destroy cities with bombardments. They didn’t predict the zeal of a stagnant empire, caught in an existential crisis, committing all its resources and people to a war they didn’t know they couldn’t win. They also didn’t predict the behavior of a new Calderan nation, allying with a force of super soldiers for an objective that nobody would be able to define beyond the immediate need for power.
For years, Kayla’s seniors had warned her of the danger of humanity gaining knowledge of their organization. She had always assumed they were talking about criminals somehow learning where to go and dig up Jotnar weapons of mass destruction. But wasn’t Valkyrie itself a weapon? Did she have the right to use it? For all the men, women and children who would die, did she have the right to decide?
“Well…” Ray said, interrupting her train of thought.
Kayla nodded. “Yeah.”
Another silence filled the small office.
“What the hell are we doing here, Ray?” Kayla demanded. “How did this happen?”
“I mean, I could go on about chaos theory, but I’m not sure that will be much help to you.”
“They need to parachute a Raider squad onto the building or something, because this is way too much for a dumbass Lance-corporal.”
Ray held up a finger. “At this point, you can consider yourself a corporal. They’ll definitely promote you. If you survive.”
Kayla threw up her arms. “Who cares? I’m literally sat here with the fate of an entire planet at my fingers. My planet.”
“Okay, no pressure then,” Ray said with a wink. “But also, don’t screw up.”
Kayla turned to stare at her. “How are you always so calm, no matter what we’re up against?”
Ray shrugged. “It’s my nature.”
Kayla watched her a moment longer, then jumped to her feet. “How old are you?” she demanded. “Really? I know there’s a time and a place for asking that question, and I think it’s right now.”
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“There’s probably never a good time for that—”
“How about you cut the bullshit, Ray? You are older and way more experienced than any of us. You know what we need right now? Some actual freaking wisdom to help us get through this mess.”
Ray sighed and turned away. “I’m just a private, acting-Corporal Barnes,” she said dismissively.
“Who gives a shit? Hey, private Barath, I’m ordering you to stop playing games and help the squad.”
“There’s no game,” Ray snapped. “What answers could I possibly have to fix this mess? Rayker was always a step ahead of us, and now we’re paying for it.”
Kayla took a deep breath and held it for a moment. Then she exhaled slowly. “Hypothetically. If an unnamed Ranger private was a couple of hundred years old, or whatever, might she have any insights that could help us understand what is going on?”
Ray nodded and cocked her head. “Hypothetically? She would probably tell you that, for the last thousand years, the leadership of Valkyrie has become overly cautious and conservative while humanity grew into a space-faring civilization. A handful of chieftains have been attempting to plan for the inevitable entanglement with Valkyrie’s mission, but they have been constantly rebuffed. The council has become too used to repetitive, textbook style operations, fighting an unthinking enemy whose strengths and weaknesses were solved millennia ago. A reliable script is comforting, because uncertainty means risk, and risk means casualties. So, Valkyrie stopped being a cadre of dedicated warriors, and became a place for eighteen-year-old girls to contribute to the protection of their homes with the minimum casualty rate possible. Even the immortal get sick of seeing death.”
“But that complacency is only going to get more Valkyrie killed.”
“Of course. Whatever change has come in recent years was forced on them by Rayker, which means that she has always held the initiative, even if she didn’t know it.”
Kayla nodded. A lot of things were starting to finally make sense. “And now?”
“Now, acting-Corporal, we are reaping the fallout of hesitancy and bad decisions,” Ray said. “Even if some of the old guard tried to prepare—and thank the heavens they created the Raiders—they couldn’t predict how the inevitable conflict would take shape. Now, we just have to deal with it as best we can.”
Kayla shook her head and stared glumly into the corners of the dark room. “I could force their hand,” she said coldly. “Start a war that’s probably coming anyway.”
“That’s one possibility.”
“Would you try and stop me?” Kayla asked with a dark smile.
Ray raised her arms. “How can I stop you? How could I, regardless of who I am, make that decision for an entire planet?” She smiled. “But you are a Valkyrie Ranger, a squad leader, and a Calderan woman. Who else could be better?”
Kayla laughed. “This is such bullshit. I am twenty-one years old. I am a kid who has been paid to run around with guns and blow shit up.”
“It’s unfair, I know. All I can tell you is that you have joined a small and exclusive club.”
“I don’t suppose you caught sight of any philosopher kings out there?”
“Nope. Destiny throws curveballs, not rookie pitches.”
“So, Agent Whist, how are the plans for an assault coming along?” asked the digitized image of Colonel Stratos, commander of the regiment that was now marching out of the Rackeye starport.
“They are being developed by the chief of our tactical intervention force,” Whist said evenly. “I do not expect to require them.”
“What a strange thing to say,” Stratos replied. “Aren’t you eager to destroy these despicable terrorists?”
Whist smiled, while an inner voice screamed for a cigarette. He was speaking to a collection of monitors in the back of the Sentinel’s communications van. The teleconference had been set up by the Sentinel’s governing Cardinal, Megev Darys, and, for some reason included Cardinal Crayland of the adjudicate and Hieron Djallen.
In some respects, the conversion of the crisis into a political opportunity had been inevitable, though Whist had dared to hope he would be left alone. The lack of drink was clearly making him a fool. Now, as he should have guessed, he would be micromanaged until the operation either crashed and burned, leaving him to take the blame, or succeeded, leaving the vultures to squabble over who would get the meat.
“I was hoping to avoid bloodshed,” Whist said. “I think there are reasons to believe—”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” The colonel banged a fist on his desk in the Augustine high above, where he would certainly remain for the duration of the crisis while handing out edicts like he was Zeus on Olympus. “Now that we have these murderers cornered, you want to let them live?”
“I have to interject here, Colonel,” Cardinal Darys said smoothly. “Agent Whist is simply following the proper Sentinel protocols for hostage rescue. I have full confidence in his ability to bring the crisis to a satisfactory conclusion.” He finished with a smile which quietly indicated that Whist would answer the contrary to his peril.
“I am sure the Colonel will appreciate the necessity of preserving the lives of the innocent civilians currently held hostage,” Hieron Djallen said acidly. “The safety of Agent Genny is of particular concern to me.”
Whist blinked. How could he have missed this? It all made sense now—Genny had to be a plant for the Djallen corporation to preserve their interests on Caldera, or even help expand them. Even if he succeeded in rescuing the hostages, he would not be able to avoid getting caught up in power games way above his head. The thought was depressing, but he mentally swatted it away. He had a job to do, and everything else could go hang.
“Negotiations are currently underway—” he tried.
“If necessary,” Colonel Stratos declared imperiously, “my regiment has an in-extremis force that is trained for such difficult operations. Do not hesitate to call for help if you find yourself out of your depth, Agent. Now, what are their demands?”
Whist let out a slow breath, and promised himself he would move to two cigarettes at a time.
“Their leader is a woman named Taylor, who wants all Helvet soldiers off the planet, in exchange for letting us speak to Director Tensall. She hasn’t made any other demands as yet.”
Stratos nodded. “An obvious move, for colonist radicals, and completely out of the question. Gives them leverage straight away doesn’t it? I hope you rejected the request immediately. We are here to stay until the safety of Rackeye can be assured.”
“No, Colonel, I did not reject anything. It is extremely bad practice to be confrontational with hostage takers; it makes them defensive and more likely to resort to violence.”
Stratos’ lips curled in a subtle sneer, but he said nothing further.
“As a matter of fact,” Whist continued, with some relief, “I have reason to question the assumption that these are terrorists. My team is currently investigating the possibility that we are dealing with a private investigation group who have been after a number of VennZech employees on several planets, for suspicions of human trafficking.”
“Oh, what garbage,” Stratos said angrily. “They told me you were fond of conspiracy theories, Whist. Frankly I think you should be replaced immediately, and if no other Sentinel Agent is senior enough, I will propose myself.”