Novels2Search
The Voyager: Remastered
Chapter 211: Three Months and a Hell Lot of Discontent

Chapter 211: Three Months and a Hell Lot of Discontent

Three months passed in the blink of an eye.

After the battle that ended Legatus Calvinus and his 20,000 Romans, the intruders at the other portals immediately pulled back. Their job was to distract the defenders. Turning that to a frontal assault wasn’t the plan. The Wardens and the Voyagers at the other portals gathered a few thousand kills, but it was nowhere as significant as what Jean did.

After that, the Roman Empire seemed to have gone silent. Not a single attack, not even one to test the defenses, was made. It was as if the Romans completely gave up on their plan.

Jean was cautious. The mining and manufacturing bases on the alien planets have been established. Minerals were mined and then turned into Warden and Purifier units. A week after the battle ended, the first batch of 5,000 Wardens and 3,000 Purifiers arrived. That was just the first of many waves that would soon follow.

Countless units were manufactured on Earth as well. The U.S.N.A. government provided more than sufficient resources and manpower for Jean’s war effort. Of course, in exchange, Jean made a few deals. She gave them some of the Terran technologies she had in store, including gauss weapons, power armors, and smaller vehicles. It wasn’t much, but it could make sure the U.S.N.A. would be ahead on the other countries once the war ends and the Voyagers depart.

Normally, the Protectors wouldn’t allow a transaction like this that would cause an unbalance in power and destabilize the planet, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and Jean could totally say she was just arming the locals so they could help resist the intruders.

Already, the U.S.N.A. has armed an entire armored division, the 10th Armored Division, with terran technology Jean provided. This was why the U.S.N.A. government allowed Jean to keep using Earth’s resources for her own forces.

As Jean built up her army even more, she didn't forget about the threat of the Romans. Just because they weren’t attacking didn't mean they have given up. What she did three months ago must’ve been a great blow, but she has seen the Roman Empire through the eyes of its soldiers, and she knew an entity like that wouldn’t surrender after a single defeat. They would return. There was no doubt. The question was when and how.

The Voyager did her best to cover Earth with observers. She didn't have enough observers to cover every inch of ground of Earth, but she didn't need to. A minimal number of observers in orbit were modified to scan for Roman lifeforms. The Romans might look similar to human beings, but there were a number of characteristics where they were totally different. Jean had the observers scan for those characteristics. If another portal was opened up and a foreign army marched through, she would know.

A dozen Capitalguards, fully loaded with Swordguards and Cruiseguards, were ready to be deployed to any corner of the planet at any moment.

Unfortunately, while she was ready for war, she might be the only one.

----------------------------------------

A car stopped in front of an abandoned building in the worn down streets of New York City.

Three months ago, one of the portals appeared at the heart of the once wealthy city. During the all-out assault, a thousand Romans marched out of this gate. A regiment of Wardens stood their ground, but the nature of the modern city meant that Warden firepower were somewhat restricted. Romans, on the other hand, had no problem using their swords or javelins. With the positional advantage, the Romans engaged with the small group of Wardens for a few hours before comfortably retreating back to their home with acceptable casualties.

The Warden losses were negligible, but the toll on the city was not. Tens of thousands were caught in the crossfire between the Wardens and the Romans. Skyscrapers were destroyed, mostly by Warden explosives and rounds. Shops and houses were ravaged. Before long, the streets were covered with corpses.

The corpses took a whole week to be cleaned up. Even now, the roads barely allowed traffic. If you look close enough, you can still see the blood and rubbles in the corners.

A man in military uniform walked out of the building and into the passenger seat of the car. The driver didn't turn as he entered, but a small smile was on his lips.

“I see that you have made your decision. Uncle Sam will be pleased to hear it.”

“Hardly.” The man shook his head as he reached into his gun holster and pulled out a metallic looking handgun. “This is a Defender II gauss pistol. It can punch through the plating of an armored vehicle with a single shot. I was given it when I accepted the appointment and became the commander of the 10th Armored Division.”

“Congrats.” That was half-hearted.

“Thank you,” The military man wasn’t showing any gratitude either. “that brings us to an interesting scenario. I am a promising officer in the U.S.N.A. Army. I have the most advanced human division on the planet under my command. My future is set. Why should I join a cause as meaningless and risky as yours?”

“Is that your thoughts, or is that the thoughts of your people?”

“Does it matter?”

“No.”

The car was silent for a moment before the driver turned around.

“So, should I expect to be arrested and turned to court martial? Will I be interrogated for the whereabouts of Uncle Sam? After all, he is on the top of your wanted list.”

The military man flipped his gauss handgun in his palm. His eyes lingered around. Suddenly, he held the weapon still and gestured at something across the street. It was a restaurant, or what used to be a restaurant.

“My father used to take my mom and I here every Saturday for lunch. It was... our family tradition.” He licked his lips. “They make excellent waffles. Even after the portals were opened, people still went there for food, against the advice of the Wardens. They found pleasure in this small act of rebellion.”

“And then, when the Romans came, the packed restaurant was turned into a graveyard. The Wardens had the resources to beat back the Romans. They could ensure that not a single innocent would die. But instead, that Jean Turner ordered the Wardens to fall back and use the extra space to beat back the Romans.”

“They didn't even try to stand their ground and defend the innocent.”

The driver glanced at him.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

But the uniformed man wasn’t done.

“I just came back from an Army meeting. The President was there. So was the Secretary of Defense. That Voyager, Jean Turner, she was there too. You know what they’re talking about? Three months after the last Roman invasion?”

“What? Something important, I persume.”

“They were discussing increasing funding for defense. More specifically, mining and manufacturing. That was it. Next to no medical for the tens of thousands of wounded. Next to no reconstruction.”

“That is...unfortunate.”

The passenger’s head snapped back to the driver. His face was stone cold, but his voice was filled with fury.

“We were under attack! We encountered a disaster! Even now, after three months, there are still millions displaced! Their homes and everything they possess are returned to rubble, and the only thing keeping them alive is some NGO funding and the grace of god! We’re getting close to winter! Estimations suggest tens of thousands will freeze to death! This is the 21st century! Freeze to death!”

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“And that’s just the basics! Our economy is nonexistent! The stock market has gone out the window! Crime rate is so high even martial law and military involvement can’t keep things down! The people are marching in the streets everyday! Our nation is at its knees!”

“Yet, the people in charge of our government, the people who we have elected to protect us, don’t care about that. They have the resources to help. I know it. But they would rather spend them on collecting more minerals and sending them to that bitch so she can build up her personal army and defend against a foe that, as far as we know, will never set foot into our world again! Why? So they can build up their own army in return! So that, one day, when the Voyagers and their god-damn trouble finally leaves us, they can rely on their own forces and become dictators! They don’t give a damn about the people!”

“In fact, where is the reason in all of this? This is not our war! Why do we have to suffer for it? And these so-called Voyagers...they don’t care about our people! They don’t care if we starve or freeze as long as they can defeat those Romans! Once they’re done, to hell with us!”

The driver glanced at the passenger again, but he was quiet as the disgruntled one continued.

“General in charge of the 10th Armored Division? It’s a huge leap, much better than the regiment Colonel I was when the portal first opened. No matter what happens to the rest of the world, I’ll be fine. Hell, if I’m willing to collude with the President and his pals and sell my soul to the she-devil, I might even make it to the Secretary of Defense one day!”

“Yeah...that does sound nice.” The driver commented quietly.

The Colonel rested his handgun on his lap. He swiped his pocket and took out a cigarette. He put it in his mouth without lighting it up. “But what’s the point in being a general if you can’t even protect your people? Even if I command the 10th Division, I will be no more than a puppet. My only job will be to carry out what that Voyager and our caring President orders.”

The driver repeated.

“I take it you have made your decision, Colonel.”

The man, Colonel Johnson, nodded.

“I have made my decision the moment I realized the Voyager watched my men be slaughtered for her own purposes. The only thing that changed is now, I am no longer the only one in the military.”

“Please go back to Uncle Sam and tell him that my comrades and I will join his cause. Earth will not be a pawn sacrificed by the Protector Corps for a cause we want no part it, and we will make sure of that...no matter the price.”

----------------------------------------

“Miss Turner, we have a problem.”

The U.S.N.A. President now was a whole different person from the president who first encountered Jean. If the president three months ago had some consideration for his people, then that was no longer the case.

Across her time here, Jean had many conversations with the president. Through these conversations, she did her best to implant the desire for power inside the president’s head. She was a master manipulator. She has been manipulating people since chapter one. Before long, the president was corrupted by sheer words.

He started to place increasing his power above taking care of his people.

Jean knew she needed a puppet among the locals. First of all, she was sent here to protect the locals. Letting a few of them die was fine, but eradicating the original leadership would obviously be against the goal of the Protectors. If she took care of the leaders by force and installed an illegitimate puppet state, then it would only be a matter of time before the locals rise up.

She had the ability to crush them, but then again, she was supposed to be their savior, not their executioner.

But still, she needed to do things that the locals obviously wouldn’t approve, whether it was stripping Earth’s resources and using the local infrastructures to make Wardens rather than consumer goods. It was good in the long term. The Romans obviously hasn’t given up yet. They would come back soon, and she needed all the resources she could get her hands on to fend them off.

She was aware of the consequences, but losing a few hundred thousand people to the cold, famine, lack of medical treatment, and crime was better than losing the billions in this world to the murderous horde that went by the name of the Roman Empire.

Unfortunately, the locals couldn’t see that. In most cases, the populace lacked the insight and the determination to do what had to be done for the greater good. That was why she needed the president: to execute her will while retaining some of the support of the mass.

“What is it?” Jean asked quietly as she stared at the President’s face on the computer screen.

The President’s face was replaced by a list of information. On the cover was the photo of a man in his forties with grey hair.

“This is the felon who calls himself Uncle Sam. He was a history professor by the name of Simon Hardin. A dedicated professor, in fact. He practically devoted his life to teaching. When the Romans attacked, one of the portals was right inside his university. In an effort to suppress the charging Roman cavalry, your Warden units bombed the entire campus to the ground. Professor Hardin survived, but everyone he knew perished in the flames.”

“How unfortunate.” Jean had no need to put up an act in front of the president, not anymore. At this point, they both knew what each other truly were. “What did he do that makes him a problem?”

“Since the Romans were defeated, he and his disciples have been moving across the country. They consider themselves symbols of freedom and view us against the enemy of the people. They’re talking the populace into joining against our cause. He and his followers are organizing protests, planning strikes, and doing anything and everything they can to keep us from getting the nation more ready to repel the Romans. His presence alone has hindered our advancement more than everyone else on the wanted list combined. So far, my intelligence agencies have failed to apprehend him.”

“I see. I will send my Wardens to handle him and his followers.”

Jean shrugged. She didn't give a damn if it was Uncle Sam or Simon Hardin. That wouldn’t make a difference in front of the plasma blade of a Warden G-1.

The President shook his head.

“Tempting, but that’s not why I called. The civil unrest has already been problematic. Your Warden units are still patrolling the streets every day, three months after the last Roman fell.”

“They will return.”

“But that’s not how the people will see it! There are even government officials advocating for removing all the Wardens except the ones at the portals. If word gets out that I, the President of the U.S.N.A., allowed a foreign power to assassinate one of my own without anything resembling a trial, then it will be my head on the spike. Miss Turner, need I remind you that while you have a mechanical army that will obey your every command, I do not.”

“Fine.” Jean has had enough of this conversation. “So what do you want me to do?”

“Provide me information on Professor Hardin’s whereabouts. I will send a squad of our own 10th Division and arrest him. We put him on trial, and we execute him lawfully.”

He was talking as if Hardin was already decided to be guilty. Due to necessities, there would be a trial, but no one promised it would be a fair one.

“I see. Any information to help narrow him down?”

“Reliable sources say he’s in the northern part of New York City.”

“Very helpful. Information about Hardin’s location will be delivered to you shortly.”

Jean quickly deployed enough observers to cover the entire field to the northern part of New York City. She couldn’t cover the planet, but she could cover a part of a city. With advanced protoss technology, these observers could dig this ‘Uncle Sam’ out from six feet under.

“Another thing.”

Before Jean could turn off the comm, the President stopped her.

“Yes?”

“Even if we kill Hardin, the damage done can’t be reversed. The people will always consider you and the Wardens to be outsiders who are standing between them and their rights.”

“What do you propose?”

“We both know that you don’t care about us outside of your mission, but at the moment, our interests align. Right now, the public sees you as an enemy because they don’t understand the true threat of the Romans. The lack of communication is really hurting the situation. If you can talk to the public and convince them that what you are doing right now is fully necessary...at least now we can label those organizing strikes as allies of the Romans and traitors to our kind. This will give us the authority to terminate them with any method necessary.”

Jean nodded slowly. The President helped with the public relation issue, but if she could fool the people into joining his cause willingly, then she would happily do so. People were more likely to work when they wanted to do so voluntarily.

“I see. When do you think I can do that?”

“After we put Professor Hardin on trial. It will be a mix of punishment and reward in a short period of time. My experience tells me that combination is great at swaying people’s opinions.”

That was something Jean agreed with. The trial would show the people the price of going against the government. Jean’s speech would show them the benefit of joining. They should be enough to convince the people to make the right decision.

“I agree, and I will be there at the trial. Now, if there’s nothing else, I have to go.”

“You have plans?”

“You can say that.” Jean said quietly, but she didn't explain any further. When the call ended and the computer screen went dark, Jean quietly stood up and walked out of the room. Her body covered by black Voyager armor.

After all, she was going to meet some fellow Voyagers.