“Federation Intelligence Agency?” B’roka asked, stiffening up as he puffed out his chest and snapped into a firm salute, “Ma’am! I was not briefed on the presence of FIA personnel!” he exclaimed sharply. Octavia could hear the thinly-veiled panic in his voice as he snapped into the proper posture in front of his superior.
“That was intentional, Lieutenant,” Remiel remarked flatly as her stormy eyes flicked up and down B’roka’s form with an unimpressed expression, “My being here is on a need-to-know basis. Considering my previous escorts were shot down, you only now need to know.”
B’roka gave a quiet grunt in response and turned his head towards Jace and Alex, “Federation Directive 9 is in effect; Agent Remiel now has operational authority of this mission. I hereby relinquish my command, effective immediately,” he reported formally as he dropped his hand back to his side and turned back towards the agent, “Longsword 771 stands ready at your command, Agent Remiel.”
“Not all of you, apparently,” Remiel remarked as her eyes landed on Mackenzie, the intensity of her gaze causing Octavia’s grip on the human to tighten instinctively.
“Our pilot was wounded in the journey to your crash site,” B’roka replied, “Non-lethal wound, but she’s out of commission.”
“I see,” Remiel quipped, one of her eyebrows raising, “And what about you?” she asked as her eyes trailed up from Mackenzie to land squarely on Octavia’s visor. Despite the screen between them, Octavia couldn’t shake the feeling that Remiel was looking directly into her eyes, the invasive sensation sending a short shudder through her spine.
“Guardian Octavia Vita Tiberius of the Royal Amaranthian Honor Guard,” Octavia replied instinctively, offering a nod towards her, “I’m functional, ma’am.”
Remiel was quiet for a moment, glancing from Octavia’s visor to the wounded human in her arms and back again. After a moment of silence she turned her attention to B’roka, “The amaranthian representative’s infatuation with your wounded pilot makes her ineffective. We will need to find a medical institution to tend to your pilot before we continue, otherwise we will never succeed in our objective.”
“What the fuck?” Vita blanched, the confusion evident in her voice.
“Agreed, Agent Remiel,” B’roka remarked shortly.
“Sir!” Octavia cried indignantly, “I’m perfectly functional, don’t deviate from the mission for me.”
“Overruled,” Remiel dismissed, her tone sharp and quick as a whip, “The nearest underworld surgeon is five blocks away, along the outer wall of the city. Your pilot will be safe there.”
“Underworld surgeon?” Octavia asked, trying to make sense of the sudden turn of events.
“If we take her to a hospital the attendants will come by and finish her off. The alari have completely lost control of the city, it belongs to the rogue AI now,” Remiel responded flatly, not even trying to conceal her tone of self-importance as she explained, “Leaving her with an underworld surgeon is the only way to keep her safe and leave you able to complete the mission.”
“Couldn’t we just find a good signal and call for a medevac?” Alex interjected.
“And have another Longsword shot down?” Remiel responded sharply, turning her gaze towards Alex with an expression that one would make when looking at a pile of refuse, “Think before you speak.”
Alex’s features shifted downwards at the response, her normally bubbly energy deflating instantly as she shuffled to face the window without another word. A pang of anger shot through Octavia at the remark, her eyes flicking towards Remiel as her hidden features contorted into a scowl.
“Don’t talk to her like that,” Octavia barked, her shoulders tensing as she postured off against the black-clad agent.
Remiel slowly turned just enough to look at Octavia out of the corner of her eye, her features contorting into an unreadable expression as she contemplated whatever was going on in her head. Octavia didn’t back down as the seconds of silence dragged on. Finally, Remiel clicked her tongue and responded flatly, “Very well.”
The remark threw Octavia off, blinking in surprise as her shoulders deflated of their own accord. Remiel’s lip curled up into a one-sided smirk as she turned her head away, leaving Octavia without another quip and fuming at nothing. The agent walked to the window and peered through the glass into the rain, squinting straight down the street towards the crowd that was steadily growing between them and the elevator.
“You seem to have prompted quite the reaction from the local populace,” Remiel remarked in a bored tone, “I suspect they will soon have the nerve to riot and pursue us on their own. If that happens, they will drag us before the attendants to be executed,” she stated matter-of-factly, her expression remaining static as she explained.
“Agent Remiel, why would the civilians attack us? We’re here to save them,” B’roka remarked as he joined her in the window display, peering out into the rain.
“To avoid retaliation from the attendants,” Remiel responded as she clasped her hands formally behind her back, squinting into the darkness, “And because alari notoriously hate authority.”
“It’s true,” Merith responded gruffly as she leaned against the wall near the windows, peeking her head around the corner with a vaguely concerned expression, “Doesn’t help that it’s worship right now. Toting guns through the streets during worship is the fastest way to get all those cult fuckers on you.”
“Then we’d better move quickly,” B’roka suggested, glancing over his shoulder at the rest of the team before he turned his head towards Remiel, “Can you lead us to the surgeon?”
With her hands still clasped firmly behind her back, Remiel twirled on her heels to face Octavia with a stern look that immediately made Octavia hold her breath. Studying Octavia and Mackenzie for a moment, Remiel finally spoke, “I will lead you to the surgeon - but once she is there, I expect you to be at top form for the rest of the mission. I can’t afford to have you distracted.”
Octavia frowned at the remark, but after a moment of silence, she gave a single nod in agreement. Remiel clicked her tongue and turned, striding over to the door without another word. She paused as she set her hand on the door and looked over her shoulder, “Keep up. And don’t piss off the natives any more than you already have.”
With that, she pushed open the door and strode out into the rain at a steady pace, turning alongside the outer street. Octavia watched as the rest of the Federation soldiers fell in step, led by the Lieutenant. After a brief moment, Octavia was left alone in the darkened storefront with Mackenzie held tightly in her arms.
“She’s a real charmer, isn’t she?” Mackenzie asked with a weary chuckle, shaking her head in disapproval as she leaned into Octavia’s grasp.
“You read my mind,” Octavia agreed as she strode towards the door with a sigh, watching through the windows as the group made their way along the outer street without waiting for her, “I’ve half a mind to just stay here and protect you until we can get a ride out of here,” she admitted quietly.
“Oh, come on now, you can’t do that,” Mackenzie complained in a strained tone, “You’ve got a job to do, you can’t abandon your post for me.”
“My job is to make sure the Federation uses the White Peace Device appropriately,” Octavia remarked with a roll of her eyes as she shouldered her way through the door and dipped out into the rain, “Never said anything about killing bots in some creepy alari temple city.”
“That’s brass for you,” Mackenzie remarked with a laugh, tucking her head against Octavia’s chest to shield her face from the rain, “Give a penny, they take a grand.”
Octavia couldn’t contain her scoff of laughter at Mackenzie’s comment, shaking her head in amusement as she strode into the rain. Tightening her grip on Mackenzie while she recovered from her laughter, she set off into a steady jog to catch up with the rest of the Federation soldiers who had already made it a few blocks away, clearly visible in the exterior city lights. It didn’t take long for her to catch up with the others, slowing down into a brisk walk so she didn’t pass them.
They traveled in silence for a few minutes with nothing but the sound of rain and the occasional clap of thunder to keep them company. Tensions were high as the Federation crew kept their rifles up, sweeping along the city’s external wall as they passed a multitude of neon-clad storefronts, bars, and clubs. Alari patrons watched as they passed, making no move to stop them, but the repeated bright flashes from their scrolls suggested that they were the center of attention as they moved through the streets.
“We need to get off of the main roads,” Octavia suggested as they passed a bar patio, every single patron of which was standing and taking pictures of them as they passed, ignoring the rain falling on them as they gawked at the passing soldiers.
“Agreed,” Agent Remiel responded flatly. She pointed at an alley and immediately ducked off of the street, passing into the darkness of the passageway as she led the way forward.
B’roka paused at the entrance of the alley and let the rest of the team go first, ushering them in as he watched the street with his rifle gripped tightly. One of the nearby doors clicked and swung open, prompting the Lieutenant to immediately twirl towards it with his rifle raised. The cluster of alari youth came to a shrieking halt as they entered into the rain, face-to-face with the barrel of a gun.
“Get out of here!” B’roka insisted firmly, his voice echoing over the sounds of the rain and the steady beats of the entertainment district. They immediately broke apart and ran off down the street in the direction they had just come from, looking over their shoulders and screaming as they ran.
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“That’s not good,” Vita remarked warningly.
“Sir, move!” Octavia insisted sharply, nodding towards the alley.
B’roka nodded once as he watched the panicked group run off, then he lowered his rifle and turned, making his way down the alley at a steady jog. Octavia cast one last glance down the street before she followed him into the darkness, leaving the rain and lightning behind once again. They passed into the dim light of the city’s alleyways, the tight tunnel filling Octavia with an overwhelming sense of claustrophobia.
The tight passage wound this way and that, intersected with a multitude of corners and off-shoots that all looked identical. There were no indicators as to direction, leaving Octavia to blindly follow the overhead map in the corner of her heads-up display just to keep some semblance of direction. With the twists and turns, Octavia wondered how anyone could even navigate these, let alone not get outright lost for weeks at a time.
Her thoughts were interrupted as she was forced to come to a sharp stop directly behind B’roka, almost plowing directly into the rocky expanse of his back. She glanced down at Mackenzie to confirm that she hadn’t been injured from the sudden stop, then when she was satisfied she stood on the tips of her paws to peer around B’roka’s enormous shoulders.
“It’s me,” Agent Remiel declared towards a nondescript door in the wall of the alley, an impassive look on her face as she waited.
The door clanked heavily before swinging open inwards, the light from within filtering out into the dark alley to provide ample illumination in the doorway. A young amaranthian stood there, his chocolate brown fur contrasted by a dirty white lab coat. He clutched the edge of the door nervously as he peered into the alley, his eyes flicking over each of the faces within for a moment. Finally, he stepped aside, pulling the door with him as he got out of the way.
Remiel wasted no time striding into the room, disappearing from sight as she made her way inside. Glancing at one another confusedly, Jace shrugged at Alex before following inside, Alex hot on his heels. Merith stood on the opposite end of the doorway, peering into the darkness of the alley across from them with narrowed eyes as she fiddled with her rifle idly. B’roka had to bend over to enter the room, his rocky bulk still scraping noisily against the masonwork of the frame as he entered.
Octavia spared Merith a glance before she carried Mackenzie into the room, her visor polarizing in response to the change in light. It was a fairly spacious backroom clinic with several hospital beds and medical equipment of various degrees of quality. A heavy metal door at the front of the room had several bars crossed over it, barricading it from within. Octavia frowned slightly but came to a stop in the middle of the room as she glanced towards the amaranthian doctor.
“Is this the patient?” He asked nervously, gesturing to Mackenzie as he looked over at Remiel.
“Obviously,” Remiel remarked flatly, “You just need to keep her alive until we can get a ride out of here,” she explained with a bored tone as she leaned against the wall beside the door back into the alley.
“You’re the one who tried to contact me before we arrived, aren’t you?” Octavia asked as she regarded the amaranthian with narrowed eyes, taking in his features briefly.
“Yes, Guardian, that was me,” he agreed as he shuffled his way over to one of the hospital beds, “Could you put her here please?”
Octavia nodded and crossed the room, coming to a stop next to the hospital bed. Sparing Mackenzie a worried glance, she slowly lowered the injured human until her back touched the bed, then with a deft motion she slipped her arms out from under her and settled Mackenzie fully onto the bed. For her part, Mackenzie bit through the pain of the movement, gritting her teeth with a faint groan before relaxing on the surface with a relieved sigh.
“I’m impressed you managed to get through the interference to reach me, even if it was a little too late,” Octavia admitted as she stood up, her hand trailing down until she took Mackenzie’s hand in her own.
“The attendants built a signal jammer of some sort, very high-quality programming. My portable network can reach further than the city network, but it’s still not strong enough to get all the way through the interference,” he admitted awkwardly as he began to examine Mackenzie’s wound, peeling back the bloody clothes to peer at the sealed hole.
“You have a portable network here?” Octavia blinked in surprise, searching through the local networks curiously. Sure enough, there it was, the amaranthian network she had caught moments before the attendants began shooting at her. She immediately sent out a request to join the network, looking across the examination table at the doctor expectantly.
“Yes, yes, one moment,” he replied with a distracted tone as he peered at the wound for a few more moments. Satisfied with his findings, he stood up and visibly focused. A second later Octavia’s request was approved and her world flashed before her eyes.
The dull room suddenly lit up with various digitecture decorations; family tapestries hanging from the walls, digital light sources to provide more color along the walls, even several holographic screens above each bed to provide patient information. The one above Mackenzie’s table was already populated with information about the bullet wound and the first aid Octavia had administered. The doctor’s DI appeared directly next to Octavia, causing her to jump slightly in surprise at the proximity.
“Welcome to our humble abode, Guardian,” the hot pink amaranthian exclaimed with a smile, offering her a half-wave, “Sorry about your friend. The doc and I will do everything we can to keep her safe, mark my words.”
“Glad to hear it,” Vita responded from the edge of the bed, her arms crossed as she stared down at Mackenzie with barely contained worry.
“From the looks of it, she’s out of the immediate danger. The foam you used saved her life - we’ll keep her on life support until the foam deteriorates enough to be removed, then we can perform emergency surgery. It should be a simple matter,” the DI reassured as he waved a holographic hand through the screens over the bed, pulling up an array of information with a focused look.
“Keep us updated,” Vita replied shortly as she leaned over Mackenzie’s form, worry clear in her holographic visage despite the reassurances from the doctors.
“Doctor, I believe I can sync my armor up with your portable network and use it to boost the signal. Would you allow me to try?” Octavia asked, turning her head to look from the DI to the doctor.
“Yes, of course. Whatever you need, Guardian, what’s mine is yours,” he replied hastily, “It’s over on my desk there,” he explained, pointing off to the small metal desk in the corner that was littered with digitecture designs that bore no obvious purpose.
“Thank you,” Octavia replied shortly with a nod. She looked down at Mackenzie and tightened her grip on the human’s hand, immediately returned by Mackenzie as she smiled up at her. Without a word, Mackenzie gave a nod and let go of Octavia’s hand, letting her leave.
Octavia crossed the room swiftly and came to a stop at the desk, eyeing the contents briefly before she settled on the small cylindrical device that was plugged into a power socket on the wall. She reached out and gripped it in a hand, letting the sensors in her palm connect to the device. Her heads-up display began to populate with information about the network, the code scrolling through her vision as she automatically began editing the programming with Vita.
“Here, I think this,” Vita suggested, her voice coming directly through Octavia’s ear despite the fact that she hadn’t left the foot of Mackenzie’s bed. The program changed in front of Octavia’s eyes as a new segment of code was added.
“Yep, and…” Octavia trailed off and bit her bottom lip in focus as she input another portion of the code, removing a small section she didn’t agree with. Taking a moment to run it through her vision once again, she nodded in satisfaction and sent a ping through her neurolink. There was a moment of silence, Octavia’s trepidation growing before the ping suddenly bounced back, instantly washing Octavia’s mind with relief.
“I’ve got a connection,” Octavia declared, looking over her shoulder at B’roka as she held up the device, “I can get a call through to the Scales of Justice.”
B’roka’s head instantly snapped towards her and before she could blink he was suddenly standing next to her, his enormous form looming over her as he responded, “Fantastic work, Guardian Tiberius. Can I speak with them?”
“Of course,” Octavia replied shortly with a nod, a swell of pride blossoming within her chest. She pushed a command through her neurolink and spoke up, “I’ve turned on the external speakers. When you’re ready, just talk towards me and the Scales of Justice should start receiving it.”
B’roka nodded in response, “Ready.”
Octavia pushed the thought through her neurolink as the bridge jumped between her and the Federation cruiser in orbit above them. The connection fluctuated briefly before solidifying, her external speakers crackling with quiet radio static as the microphone waited for input.
“Scales of Justice, this is Longsword 771. Access code Lima-Sierra-Sierra-Omega, Bravo-Tango. Over,” B’roka spoke towards Octavia, his voice projected slightly louder than was absolutely necessary. Octavia made a face of displeasure behind her helmet as the audio filters adjusted to protect her ears from the volume of his voice.
Her external speakers crackled for another moment before a young man’s voice filtered through, “Roger that, Longsword 771, we read you loud and clear. What’s your status? Over.”
“We are one squad KIA, both Longswords down. The local population is becoming hostile in response to our presence, and we have met heavy resistance from the rogue machines present here. They are equipped with military-grade anti-air weapons and have the local airspace on lockdown. Over,” the Lieutenant declared firmly, shuffling awkwardly as he bellowed towards Octavia’s helmet.
“Roger that, please hold,” the male responded. There was silence for a few moments before the radio crackled and his voice returned, “Situation updated, sir. Do you require support? Over.”
“Negative, Scales of Justice. Short of a full assault on the city, any support would be liable to be shot down. Can you confirm the deployment of the White Peace Device? Over,” B’roka replied sharply.
“Yes, sir. The White Peace Device is ready and waiting for target lock. Over.”
“Target lock is impossible, Scales of Justice, the machines have deployed a signal blocker within the city. We’re currently using a jailbroken amaranthian portable network to contact you. Over,” Broka replied, his shoulders tensing in irritation.
“Roger that, sir. Please hold.”
B’roka gave an annoyed grumble as he glanced around the room at the rest of the occupants, his hands shifting into fists as he awkwardly stood there waiting for a response. The sound of the beats in the distance reverberated through the masonwork as time passed, the minutes bleeding together as they waited for a response. Finally, Octavia’s speakers crackled to life.
“Sir, priority has been given to recovering data from the machine hive. How long will it take you to proceed to the mission objective? Over.”
“Data? Longsword 771 is unfamiliar with this objective. Over,” B’roka snapped shortly, the confusion evident in his voice.
“That’s because the data is my objective, Lieutenant,” Remiel remarked flatly, “We have information that suggests the machines here may have been in contact with the Omni Animus. The location of the original mission objective remains unchanged.”
The wave of shock that burst through the room was instantaneous. Everyone except for Remiel visibly bristled, their shoulders squaring and hair standing on end. Jace’s eyes went wide as saucers, and Alex had to pause her work on bandaging his bloodied arm. Both of their faces turned towards Remiel with looks of abject shock.
Even Octavia had to admit that she was surprised by the information. The Omni were a distant threat contained beyond the Bastion, their only influence in Federation space was through the machines they swayed to their cause. To have the Omni directly meddling within Federation space was something that made Octavia’s heart pound faster in her chest, her blood running cold at the implications.
“They’ve been talking to the Omni?” Alex asked incredulously, “Actually talking to them? Here? In Federation space?”
“No fucking way,” Jace spat, “No, no, no. We are not equipped for this, man!”
“Are there Omni here? Can we even deal with this right now?” Alex continued, her questions were uncontained as she began to nervously prattle off.
“Fuck this, we can’t do this! Call it quits, boss, just nuke the planet!” Jace urged.
“It’s not too late, we can still get out of here and call for reinforcements,” Alex suggested as she turned away from Jace. The terror in her eyes was impossible to miss.
“Quiet!” B’roka suddenly shouted, instantly casting the room into an awkward silence as all faces turned towards him. There were a few moments of silence as B’roka’s head faced the room, turning slightly to linger on each face. Octavia noticed his hands were balled into tight, rocky fists, the grip of which could crush coal into diamonds given enough motivation.
B’roka’s fists tightened slightly before they relaxed and he turned his attention back towards Octavia’s helmet. He finally responded annoyedly, “Belay the last, Scales of Justice. Estimated thirty to forty-five minutes before arrival. Over.”
“Roger that, Lieutenant. Barring any further communication from your team, the White Peace Device will be activated in exactly fifty minutes. Over.”
Octavia quickly set a timer in the corner of her visor, the holographic number beginning to count down steadily in an unobtrusive area.
“One last thing,” B’roka remarked after a brief pause, taking a moment to glance over his shoulder once again. After a moment of deliberation, he turned towards Octavia and spoke up, “Send drop pod twenty-seven. Offset my location fifty meters north. Over.”
Octavia couldn’t help but notice the eagerness in B’roka’s voice as he made his request.
“Roger that, Lieutenant. Drop pod twenty-seven on-route to your location. ETA one hundred and twenty seconds. Over.”
“Longsword 771, signing off. Over.”
Octavia’s external speakers fluttered into silence as the static died away, the connection fading as the conversation ended.