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Birth Of The Republic Alliance/The Farian Gambit-Part Seven

  RSS Indomitable

  Independence-Class Carrier, 7th Fleet

  En route to the Ominian system

  June 13th, 0147 ship time

  “Sir, I am sorry for disturbing you, but a Priority One emergency comm drone just flashed out and is broadcasting on the Theta frequency, for your eyes only.”

  “Wha—mmrph. Huh?”

  “Priority One comm drone, broadcasting on Theta frequency. Your eyes only, sir.”

  “Goddammit. Alright, I'll take it in my quarters. Pipe it down here for me, will you?”

  “Aye sir, sorry for waking you.”

  “It’s alright, lieutenant... Osei? Am I right?

  “Aye sir, third watch is on the bridge now. The channel has been connected to the secure terminal in your quarters.”

  “Alright, thank you, Lieutenant Osei. Oh, get Senior Captain Ruggeri up as well and tell him I said to get his ass over here, okay?”

  “Aye sir. You’re welcome, sir.”

  The comm system chirped, indicating the channel had been closed by the lieutenant on the bridge. Thompson moved his hands up and rubbed his face, utterly exhausted by all the bullshit and the lack of sleep that had been the only consistent thing he could count on for the last six months.

  He reached over with his right hand and fumbled for the light control on the nightstand, almost knocking over his most prized possession in his haste. He found the control and lightly rubbed his finger on it, a dim glow coming from the bulkhead sconces that barely illuminated his quarters. He looked at his wristcom, the pale green night light displaying the ship time. 0148. Turning his head to the side, he glanced at the photo he almost knocked over and smiled at it.

  “Good morning, beautiful.”

  Looking at Mei Zhou’s eternal smile and Samson’s tongue lolling happily out the side of his mouth, he felt the familiar ache in his chest, as he always did. She was squatting down next to him on the beach, her left arm wrapped around Samson’s back with the Pacific Ocean behind them.

  Thompson looked away from the photo and back up at the ceiling as he moved his left foot to locate the other occupant of the bed. He felt a furry, warm body at the base of the bed, a threatening growl sounding almost immediately after his toes touched it.

  “Oh, shut the hell up, Samson. You are not even allowed to be up here, you know. I lost six pounds of precious packing weight because of that dog bed you haven’t used once since you came onboard.” Thompson complained good-naturedly as he nudged him again with his foot. Samson growled again and then huffed an exasperated sigh before lying on his side and fully extending all four paws to push Thompson’s legs off the bed. “Don’t push my legs, Samson. I’ll space you out the damn airlock!”

  Samson huffed again before making a big production of slowly getting up and then circling the base of the bed before lying back down, his back now facing Thompson. “Lucky bastard.” Thompson muttered quietly while he swung his legs over the edge and got up, embarrassed by the weird noises he made as he did so. I’m too old for this shit. One last war, and then I am done. If I survive, that is.

  Thompson quickly put on the skinsuit hanging off the back of the chair by the bed, ignoring Samson’s prying eyes as he struggled to get into the flexible material without pulling a random muscle. He finally got it on and pressed the front seal, feeling it tightening up as the self-fit feature activated. He went to the desk and sat down before leaning forward and activating the secure terminal. He scanned his thumb and entered his code, feeling anxious about the comm message as he impatiently waited for the comm drone to verify his credentials and release the top-secret message it was carrying.

  The terminal screen came alive, and the scanner embedded on the top activated before sweeping the entire quarters with a narrow, pale green beam to ensure there were no others within viewing range of the message. Once the scan was completed, the terminal screen displayed the rotating Republic Emblem as Thompson stared at the menacing-looking bald eagle with arrows and olive branches within its claws and wings spread out in a mantling posture.

  The screen went black, and then President Lopez appeared, her face a stone mask, though Thompson could see that her eyes were filled with anger and hurt. What the hell happened, he thought to himself as she began to speak without preamble.

  “Karl, I need you to reroute to NSR-14 immediately at your best possible speed. 7th Fleet is currently receiving repositioning orders to meet you there. Two Ma’lit dreadnoughts, along with ten Bunker Hill-Class Fast Battleships, will be joining you there as well.

  I am also sending the 1st and 3rd Marines, the 101st Airborne, 10th Mountain, 17th Pathfinders, and four ATS regiments. The ATS regiments will have the new suits, so this is an excellent chance to potentially test them in the field.

  The files you are receiving will explain the situation, and I will clarify your objectives once you reach Relay 14 and call me from there. Karl, I am sorry to make you a part of this, but you are the only one I can rely on to do this the right way without...excessive force.

  We’ll speak in person once you get there, and I will give you your final orders then. Thank you, Karl.”

  The video message ended, and another screen came up, displaying a list of files for him to review. He leaned back in his chair, trying to remember where NSR-14 was located. That’s all the way over by the Kingdom of Faria. Why the hell am I going there?

  He leaned back forward and toggled the desk panel, opening a channel to the bridge.

  “Bridge, Thompson here. We are rerouting to NSR-14 immediately. Tell the engine room to activate the null capacitor overdrive system; I want 115%, and I will send them signed orders clarifying my command so they can cover their asses. Who is OOD for this watch?”

  A moment later, a woman’s voice came over the channel. “Sir, this is Lieutenant Commander Altic. I am the officer on deck for third watch, covering for Commander Dubois while he is in sickbay. Doc ordered him into quarantine to prevent the Xryllian flu from spreading to the rest of us; it is some nasty business, sir.”

  “Your damn right about that, Commander Altic. I had that shit once when I was an ensign; I felt like a can of smashed ass for over two weeks. Please confirm receipt of my orders and coordinate it with the rest of the escort. I want us in null space and on our way ten minutes ago.”

  “Aye, sir. I confirm receipt of your new orders. Anything else, sir?”

  “Negative, Commander. Let’s get it done.”

  “Aye, Sir.”

  Thompson toggled the channel closed, wondering where the hell Dominic was as he tapped on the first file and leaned back into the chair. The door chime rang a second later, and he looked at the small holo screen that popped up to show him who it was as Samson started barking. “Quiet, Samson!” Samson ignored him and continued to bark, and Thompson had to practically scream to be heard over the din. “Come in!”

  He didn’t turn around as the door to the quarters slid into the wall recess with a quiet hiss, and he heard Dominic’s distinctive footsteps as his second in command walked over to join him in the office alcove, gently trying to get Samson to stop jumping on him. “Took your sweet ass time getting here, didn’t you?”

  “I was off the clock, and I had a... guest over when Lieutenant Osei called me and said you wanted me to come to you. I had to shower before coming here. What’s going on?”

  Thompson ignored the question before asking his own as Dominic took the seat across from him and leaned his forearms on the table, clearly not happy with being interrupted. “How’s Captain Diaz? What does she think of our fine ship and the senior captain in command?”

  Dominic rolled his eyes before answering curtly as his face reddened. “She’s fine, and she thinks the Indomitable is a beauty. As to her thoughts about the Senior Captain, she seems to be enjoying his company, at least when they are not being interrupted.”

  “Hmm. Is it true what they say about women destroyer captains?” Thompson asked slyly, relishing the deepening blush as it crept up his best friend’s neck. Dominic gave him a decidedly unfriendly look before including an insubordinate gesture as he replied.

  “I have no idea what you mean by that, Karl. What’s going on?”

  “I’m just breaking your balls, Dominic. I'm glad you found someone you like that doesn’t require you to skirt the fraternization regulations, okay? So, here’s the deal: I just received an order from President Lopez to get our asses over to NSR-14 with celerity and to take the entirety of 7th Fleet with me.

  Two Ma’lit dreadnoughts and ten Bunker Hill-Class Fast Battleships will also be rendezvousing with us there. She is also sending 1st and 3rd Marines, the 101st Airborne, 10th Mountain, 17th Pathfinders, and four ATS regiments. The ATS regiments will have the new suits as well, apparently.”

  “Holy shit, Karl. Who the hell are we invading?!” Dominic exclaimed as Thompson pulled up a star map of the local space around NSR-14, the small 3-D holo map shimmering into existence between them.

  Thompson grunted in response to the question as he used his hands to manipulate the star map before pinching his fingers to zoom in on NSR-14. He quickly tapped in a series of commands on the holo keyboard, and an outline of a semi-translucent sphere centered on NSR-14 appeared with all the stars and territories within 100 light years.

  Most of it was Commonwealth space, with a few small independent systems scattered throughout. The only major power within the sphere was the Kingdom of Faria, its vaguely amoeba-shaped territory colored dark green with the light blue of Commonwealth space surrounding it entirely.

  “I won’t have all the details until we reach Relay-14 and President Lopez gives me our final orders, but the Kingdom is the only possible target. The question is: are we actually invading them, or is this just a show of force to get them to stop their bullshit? From what I have been hearing, they have been acting like a bunch of dicks during the talks.”

  Dominic furrowed his brows as he leaned closer to the holo map. “Do you really think she would be sending all that just as a show of force? That’s what, almost 120,000 troops and 5,000 armored vehicles, on top of the 18,000 BioSynths that make up the four ATS regiments? And if they do have the new suits, that’s 18,000 armored mech tanks from hell that are about to be unleashed on these poor bastards if the rumors are true.”

  Thompson grunted again, tapping his fingers nervously on the desk as he stared at the outline of the Kingdom of Faria for a few moments before responding to Dominic.

  “This is not good, Dom. What the hell happened to get us to this point? We need to be getting our shit together and working out a framework for a unified response to the coming Balrikan invasion, not launching fucking invasions or punitive expeditions that will waste lives and equipment we cannot afford to lose.

  I haven't looked at any of the files that were sent by the president yet, so let’s do that now. You want something to eat? I’ll have the steward grab something from the galley for us.” Dominic grinned at the mention of food before answering. “I am positively famished; see if the steward can scrounge up some chicken cutlets for me,” he replied as he activated the other holo station.

  Thompson rolled his eyes. “I bet you are after your little ‘PT session’ with that destroyer captain. Anything else besides chicken cutlets, lover boy?” Dominic was in the process of mirroring the screen and ignored Thompson’s teasing as he answered the question without looking away from his holo keyboard. “Garlic mashed potatoes with beef gravy and sautéed spinach with garlic and olive oil. Thank you, Karl.”

  “Hmm, that sounds good. I’ll get the same thing. Coffee?”

  Dominic nodded. “Surely. I want the high-octane shit, too.” Thompson laughed in response before he toggled the comm control on the desk and routed it to Galley 4, the on-duty steward answering immediately and taking the food order. “The steward will be here in ten minutes with the food; are you ready to start reviewing the files?”

  “Yeah. Let's get to it.” Dominic agreed, tapping the first file on the list. Thompson did the same, and they both began to read the reports on their screens. Not a word was said between them as they went through the reports for the next ten minutes, Thompson only speaking to absentmindedly thank the steward for bringing the food to them when she arrived with a cart carrying the food, coffee, and cutlery and left it in the main room.

  The steward also brought a huge bowl of dry kibble mixed with beef gravy for Samson, who had quickly become the unofficial mascot of the ship and a crew favorite despite his infuriating tendency to try to piss on any of the rare 90-degree walls he came across to mark his new territory.

  As Samson noisily wolfed down his food, they continued reading the files in utter silence. They barely registered the warning chime before the ship entered null space a minute later, completely engrossed in the reports as they blinked away the spots of the brilliant transition flash. Samson finished eating and disappeared into the main room, and they finally finished reviewing the last file some fifteen minutes after the steward had left. They both closed out the screens in front of them almost at the same time before looking at each other in disbelief.

  “What the fuck did I just read?!” Dominic yelled out angrily as he slammed his hand down on the desk before violently shoving himself out of his seat with enough force to knock the chair over with a loud clatter. There was a loud clanging in the main room, followed by the sounds of claws scrabbling against the deck plating before Samson came charging in to protect Thompson and began barking at Dominic while making bluff charges.

  Thompson involuntarily flinched from the sudden noises and movements, his nerves already on edge from the reports they just finished reading, and he could feel his fight-or-flight response going into overdrive as his respiration became fast and shallow. “Samson, cut it out!” He roared, scaring the shit out of Samson. Samson pivoted towards him in surprise, his tail going down in between his legs before slinking out of the office and back into the main room. Thompson immediately felt guilty and angrily glared at Dominic for the unprofessional behavior that made him scream at Samson like that.

  Dominic, his hands now balled into trembling fists, stared back at Thompson with a look that could have easily burned through five meters of composite hull armor before addressing him with a strained voice. “We are going to make these fuckers pay for this, right, Karl? We aren’t going to allow ourselves to be constrained by the Paris Accords, not after what these bastards did, right?”

  Thompson eyed his best friend, still pissed off at him but feeling the exact same way as he imagined leveling every city on Faria Prime from orbit and returning them to the Stone Age. What he wanted as a man and his duty as an admiral were two different things, though, and Dominic needed to remember that as well. “We will follow our orders, and nothing more, Dominic. I think it is obvious the president intends to punish them for this considering the forces we will have at our disposal when we get to NSR-14, and the inclusion of the two Ma’lit dreadnoughts means the Ma’lit Domain is pissed off as well.

  Just one of those dreadnoughts is equal to the firepower of the entire 7th Fleet, and they sent two of them. I believe most of the Farian Navy will most likely refuse to engage with our forces once they realize the Ma’lit Domain is involved. These assets, along with the makeup of the ground forces, lead me to believe this will be a punitive expedition as well as a rescue operation to get our people off the planet.

  It is also quite possible there will be an attempt to initiate a regime change. I promise you, we will be teaching them a lesson, and that will have to be good enough for now, Dominic. Regardless of what has happened, we need the Kingdom of Faria on our side when the Balrikans come. Their navy is powerful, technologically advanced, and they have a lot of ships.”

  Dominic sneered at the mention of needing the Farian Navy before retorting. “They might have a lot of ships and technology, but those froggies can’t fight for shit, and they are incompetent as hell. What’s that expression about them our spacers love to say? ‘If a Farian fell into a barrel of tits, he’d come out sucking on his thumbs!’ C’mon, Karl. You know they couldn’t hit the side of a barn from 1,000 kilometers away with a whole goddamn fleet firing a broadside, and they are more of a liability than an asset.”

  Thompson couldn’t help but laugh at the expression, having said it himself more than once during his time in the Navy, and his laughter seemed to snap Dominic out of his rage as he started nervously giggling as well. Not one to let an opportunity pass him by, Thompson acted on the moment of levity to reel his best friend in and get him back on the ball. “Dom, let’s just take a moment and get a hold of ourselves, okay? I don’t know if you noticed, but the one thing the president didn’t tell us is why they did this and who had been targeted, just the number of dead and wounded. When we get to NSR-14, we will find out the entire truth and what our mission parameters are from the president herself.”

  “I’m gonna hold you to that promise you just made to me, Karl. They need to learn a very painful lesson, and the other powers need to be taught once and for all that we are not a middle power anymore. They just don’t know what we are truly capable of, and perhaps it is time to show them and all the others that they do not want to fuck around and find out.” Thompson gave Dominic a solemn nod, confirming his intent to keep the promise he made. That was all Dominic needed, and he bent down to pick up his chair, his hands visibly shaking as he set it back on its legs.

  Thompson looked guiltily towards the main room where Samson was still hiding. “I need to go check on Samson and make up with him; I have never yelled at him like that before, and it is already stressful enough for him being on the ship and all.” Dominic glanced in the direction of the main room, an apologetic look passing over his features. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that, Karl. It’s my fault that you screamed at him like that, and I want to make it up with him too.”

  “C’mon, let’s go say sorry to Samson and then eat; it’s probably going to require a chicken cutlet bribe from the both of us to get back in his good graces.” Thompson replied as he got up out of his seat and put out his hand. Dominic shook it firmly, letting Thompson know he was sorry and that he was with him all the way, no matter what.

  Thompson gave him a grateful look and then turned around and headed for the main room, Dominic following right behind him. Thompson stepped through the threshold into the living space and came to an abrupt halt, Dominic bumping into him from behind as Thompson swore quietly at the scene that greeted them.

  Dominic was muttering an apology before he cut himself off and began to snicker as he peeked over Thompson’s shoulders and saw what made Thompson stop and swear. Samson was lying on his side, breathing rapidly as his grossly distended belly jiggled noisily with each breath. Both stainless-steel cloches that had been covering their plates of food on the cart were on the floor, and the two large plates, as well as the smaller side dishes, were spotlessly cleaned with not a single speck of food evident upon them.

  The aroma of chicken cutlets and garlic lingered in the air, mixed with the scent of rancid dog farts. Thompson had unfortunately experienced the distinct fragrance of Samson's ass numerous times ever since taking him in after Mei’s parents said he was too much for them to handle, but this was the worst one by a wide margin. Dominic snickered again before putting a hand on Thompson’s shoulder and squeezing it gently as he spoke. “Well, I guess we now know what those clanging sounds were before Samson came in to rip my damn balls off. I hope it was worth it; the poor guy looks like he is regretting eating all that food.”

  Thompson was furious, but he couldn’t help laughing at the whole situation as Dom finally smelled the farts and started gagging while Samson looked at him with pleading eyes, as if to say, I know I fucked up, but this is punishment enough. “To be honest, after reading those reports and smelling Samson’s ass, I’m not really hungry anymore, Karl.” Dominic said apologetically after he finished dry heaving. Thompson grunted in agreement before replying. “Yeah, me neither. I got to go to sickbay and get some medication for Samson; garlic is toxic to dogs.”

  “Want me to stay here and keep an eye on him for you, or do you want me to go get it?” Dominic asked as he eyed Samson with pity. Thompson glanced at Samson first and then back at Dominic before nodding his head gratefully. “I’ll stay here with him while you head over. And for the love of God, please activate the climate control on your way out. Thanks, brother.”

  “No problem, brother. I’ll be back as soon as possible.” Dominic walked over to Samson and took a knee next to him before reaching out and petting him softly on his head, murmuring quietly to him for a moment before getting back up and walking to the door. “Be right back.” He called out over his shoulder as he exited Thompson quarters after turning the air on from the control panel next to the door.

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  Cool air began circulating through the room from the overhead head vents, mercifully taking away the lingering stale smells of the stolen dinner and Samson’s malignant farts as the recyclers sucked in the old air and replaced it. Thompson carefully walked over to Samson, not wanting to stress him out any further as he furtively looked behind himself to make sure the door was fully closed before baby-talking to the suffering dog.

  “Buddy, what did you do to yourself? You look uncomfortable, my poor boy!” Samson’s tail responded weakly to Thompson’s changed voice, thumping against the floor as he made to start trying to get up.

  “Stay, Samson. I’ll come down to you, buddy.” Thompson said to him in his normal voice to get Samson to stay as he knelt in front of him before laying on his side so that he was now facing him. Reaching out a hand, he began to gently stroke Samson just above his ribcage, careful to stay clear of the distended belly as he resumed baby-talking to his good boy.

  Samson’s tail began to thump on the floor again, slightly more vigorously this time, and he whined piteously as Thompson continued to comfort him. “Don’t worry, buddy, Uncle Dom will be back with something that will make you feel better. I’m sorry for yelling at you, Samson. I love you, my good boy. I don’t know where I would be right now if it wasn’t for you; you know that, right?”

  Samson turned his head up as Thompson scratched behind his ear and started licking his hand with a warm tongue, letting Thompson know that he was forgiven for yelling at him. Thompson had every intention of getting back up before Dom came back so that he wouldn’t be caught being affectionate to the dog, but he surprisingly found himself not caring about that after all as he stared into Samson’s soft, brown eyes.

  He stayed where he was, continuing to pet and comfort the only child of the woman he loved as he realized for the first time that Samson was now his own son in all the ways that truly mattered. “We miss you, Mei,” Thompson whispered quietly for the both of them as he continued to gently scratch Samson behind the ear.

  Ominian System

  Automated Border Outpost 1D-25

  1,893 light-years from Earth

  June 13th, 2176 A.D.

  Critical Care Unit 2-B

  0447 station time

  Lopez stopped outside the critical care unit, finding herself terrified to go inside now that she was there. Once she stepped in and confirmed that Verixa was dead, it would become a fact, and she would have to be the one to inform her broken father that his daughter had been killed in a cowardly suicide attack. “I need to use the restroom first.” She said quietly, lying through her teeth to the Pathfinders who had not left her alone for a single second since it all went down. Franco narrowed his eyes at her, and she felt a momentary flash of fear as he inspected her face intently.

  Does he know? She thought to herself, her panic increasing as he continued to scan her with his knowing eyes. He leaned in closer before speaking barely above a whisper. “I get it, Madame President. You need a moment to collect yourself before going in and confirming the death of Vice-Admiral Verixa, right?” A wave of guilt and shame slammed into her as he leaned back, and she lied again, nodding in agreement with his mistaken impression. “Understood.” He said more loudly before firing off a slew of hand signals to the others.

  Two of the bodyguards immediately peeled off from the protective detail and went into the nearby restroom facility, their scanners out and activated before they even opened the door. Lopez began to count in her head to calm herself, and thirty-two interminable seconds later, Cho came back out and nodded to Franco, who gestured for Lopez to go to them. She started walking over with shaking knees, Franco at her side the whole time before he handed her off to Cho, who then took her through the door and into the facility. Heinrichs was standing next to the row of stalls, his scanner out and active as he gave her a nod and waved a hand towards the stalls.

  “All clear, Madame President.”

  “Thank you, please wait outside.”

  Heinrichs and Cho shared a look before Cho responded, her voice brooking no argument. “Negative, Madame President. We are staying here with you.” Lopez clenched her eyes shut, trying her hardest not to scream at them unfairly for just trying to do their jobs. It took the last bit of willpower she had remaining to silence the clamoring of her body as it cried out for a dose of stims.

  When she finally opened her eyes, she lied again to the people she loved with all her heart, to the very brothers and sisters who would lay down their lives to save hers without a second thought if it came down to it. “I want you to leave. I need time alone to grieve without worrying about the both of you hearing me. Please, I need you to grant me this small favor.”

  Cho and Heinrichs shared another look, and Lopez was just about to fall apart right in front of them when they both finally gave her a curt nod. “We understand, but the door stays open. We will be right outside.” Cho replied as she jerked her head towards the door to Heinrichs, who nodded in response before they both went through the door and took up positions in the corridor outside.

  Lopez hurried to the last stall and closed the strangely shaped toilet lid with a loud clack that echoed off the tiles before turning on both the hot and cold water spigots of the small sink on full blast. Reaching into her bag with a trembling hand, she aggressively rummaged through the contents before her fingers finally felt the slim, metallic, pen-sized object she was looking for.

  She yanked it out and pressed it against her neck, her thumb depressing the plunger and triggering the subdermal injector. Three seconds later, a wave of pleasurable relief surged through her body, taking away all the pain and exhaustion before replacing it with an energizing sense of well-being.

  The accusing little voice inside of her that always came out when she took a dose sounded in her head, never failing to ruin her first moments of enjoyment. She hated the voice with all her being, and she could never stop it from criticizing her, no matter what she did. It only stopped when the stims were fully metabolized, and by then it was too late to truly enjoy the feeling.

  You drug addict piece of shit. You fucking liar. Look at yourself, hiding in a bathroom stall to shoot up while Verixa lingers on death’s door.

  “Shut the fuck up.” She hissed vehemently at the inner voice as the worst shame she ever felt in her life drowned her soul. The voice ignored her plea and continued to tear her apart, ruining the feel-good glow of the stims coursing through her body.

  You have no honor, and you are a coward. What would Sarix think if he knew you drugged yourself up and dishonored the last moments of his daughter’s life because you chose to do this instead of showing her the proper respect?

  And when she dies, her soul will be tainted as it leaves her body because instead of a true friend looking upon it with love and sadness as it departs, her soul will see the eyes of a drug addict that loved stims more than she loved Verixa looking upon it. You are a fucking piece of shit! You are unworthy of her. I can’t believe she called you her clan leader.

  “Please, I can't... I’m sorry, Verixa, please forgive me.” Lopez pleaded as hot tears streamed down her cheeks. She buried her face in her hands and began to weep, deeply ashamed of herself as the sound of her sobbing reverberated throughout the empty restroom facility.

  Nice job with the crying; at least the Pathfinders will think you are truly grieving for Verixa. Keep it up; it wouldn’t do for them to find out they are killing themselves to protect a fucking drug addict piece of shit like you. You should have been an actress; then you wouldn't have to work so hard to hide who you truly are, and you could inject yourself all day long like those useless morons do in their mansions.

  “Shut the fuck up, you bitch!” Lopez hissed again as she stood up and pressed the control on the wall above the sink. A holo mirror shimmered into existence, and she stared at her own face with disgust. Her bloodshot eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, and she looked like complete shit.

  The chemical courage she had been desperately seeking was finally metabolized by her liver, and the taunting voice went silent as a clinical detachment came over her. She was normal again, and the shame crippling her spirit was transformed into background noise that barely lingered on the edges of her awareness. Taking her bag off the small shelf next to the toilet, she reached into it and took out the makeup wand. She needed to do something about her pupils, and she played around with the tiny buttons and programmed it before holding it over her right eye.

  There was a surge of static, followed by a spritz that made her eye blink rapidly. She switched the wand to the left eye and repeated the process before looking at herself again. Her pupils were no longer pinpoints, and she decided against fixing her makeup, not wanting her bodyguards to think she was vain enough to be worried about how she looked during such a time.

  After wetting her hands, she ran them through her hair to smooth out the frizz before drying them under the hand dryer. She fidgeted with her blouse for a few moments before grabbing her bag and leaving the stall, her heels clacking against the black granite tiles. She stopped at the threshold as Cho and Heinrichs bookended her before heading back to join the others still waiting in front of the critical care unit. Franco’s eyes searched her face for a few moments before giving her the slightest of nods. “Are you ready, Madame President?”

  “No, but I have no choice, do I? Let’s go.” She replied as she walked past him and stopped in front of the automatic door, waiting for the sensor module embedded in the wall above the main entry to scan them. A pale blue beam washed over them, followed by the sound of the locking mechanism disengaging as the AI determined they were on the authorized visitors list.

  The double doors silently slid open into their wall recesses, and she waited as Franco and Cho took point, the others falling in around her on all sides before the whole group proceeded inside the critical care unit.

  There were numerous androids scattered throughout the large reception area, and one of them approached the group before querying them. ~ Greetings. I am medical android 2-R. May I assist you? ~ Franco fielded the question for the group as he stepped in front of the android to prevent it from getting any closer to Lopez. “Yes, please. We are here to see Vice-Admiral Verixa.”

  The android remained completely still, except for its eyes, which were rapidly flicking side to side as it accessed its databanks. ~ The patient you are here to see expired twenty-two solar minutes ago and is unable to receive visitors at this time; I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause you. ~ Lopez rolled her eyes at the android’s stupid answer and spoke up loudly enough to be heard by it. “Take us to the doctor who was caring for her, now.” 2-R pivoted its eyes towards her, and she saw the mechanisms of the artificial eyes changing shape as it zoomed in on her face.

  ~ Madame President, I regret that I am unable to fulfill your request currently; my orders were quite specific in regards t- ~ 2-R stopped suddenly, its mouth and lips frozen in the middle of the word it was articulating as its eyes began to rapidly bounce back and forth.

  A new voice spoke as 2-R's face remained locked in its current shape, creeping her out as the new speaker addressed them. “My apologies, Madame President Lopez. Our androids have a distressing tendency to take our commands too literally sometimes. I am Tli-nir, the doctor supervising Vice-Admiral Verixa. I am sending new commands for 2-R now to bring all of you to me. Please follow it and do not deviate from its path.”

  2-R's face returned to a neutral mask as its eyes stopped ticking side to side, and its normal voice returned as the android spun around. ~ Please follow me and do not deviate from the assigned path. ~

  It started walking down the long corridor, and they followed closely behind it as it guided them to their destination. The well-trained Pathfinders were easily able to maintain formation and keep her in the middle as they passed numerous doors and windows on their way, all of them covered with a mirrored surface that prevented spying eyes from seeing what was inside of them.

  They came to a junction, and the android took the left corridor, not bothering to look behind itself to see if they were still following as it led them down a new corridor that was an exact copy of the corridor they had just left.

  They finally reached the end, 2-R stepping to the left side of the much larger double doors as it used one of its hands to indicate they were to enter. The mirrored surfaces parted in the middle as the doors slid into their wall recesses, and the group entered hesitantly; the large space they were now in was filled with highly advanced-looking equipment and smelled strongly of disinfectants as they all looked around with wide eyes.

  In the center of the room were two Ma’lit exosuits on either side of a gleaming metal table, and there were at least a dozen androids scattered about, all of them working on panels and banks of strange-looking equipment. The top of the table was occluded by a privacy screen, preventing them from seeing the patient they were working on, who had to be Verixa.

  One of the exosuits turned around, and it took Lopez a moment to realize why the suits seemed smaller than usual. They were more form-fitting, and the ends of the arms were more specialized, with delicate surgical instruments and only three fingers where the larger, normally five-fingered hands would typically be.

  The Ma’lit that had turned to face them raised one of the strange hands in greeting before its speakers activated. “I am Tli-nir, the doctor supervising Vice Admiral Verixa’s care. I am honored to finally make your acquaintance, Madam President, though I wish the circumstances were not so dire.” Lopez stepped forward two paces as the Pathfinders in front of her moved to the side. “The honor is mine, Doctor Tli-nir. I’m sorry, but I am confused by your choice of words. What care is there to be given if she is dead?”

  “Forgive me, but I must correct you, Madame President. She was dead, but we managed to resuscitate her, and she is now on life support. What happens next will depend on the decision you make regarding the patient’s status.” Lopez felt like she had been punched in the gut as the full import of what the doctor had just said was processed by her, and she struggled to maintain her bearing as her mouth opened and closed several times.

  “Verixa is alive? That can’t be...the report made it seem as if there was nothing left of her.” She finally stammered in disbelief as she saw the Pathfinders within her field of vision sharing looks with each other. “And what do you mean in regards to Verixa’s… status being dependent on my decision?”

  Tli-nir turned slightly to gesture towards the table behind it as it responded.

  “Yes, it is true that Verixa suffered catastrophic injuries that would have killed most other species, but the famed Nekuli durability, coupled with Verixa’s excellent physical condition, allowed her brain and spinal column to survive largely intact.

  The question remains, however, as to what we do now. Her father is in a medically induced coma, and time is of the essence. According to Vice President Davix, only the clan leader can make medical decisions of this nature if the rest of the family is unavailable or unable to do so. We cannot hope to reach her clutch brother Therax in time to receive his decision, so it falls on you, according to Nekuli tradition.”

  Lopez felt like throwing up, and she wanted nothing more than to flee from the room and get off the station rather than deal with this. She had already proven to herself that she was not worthy of being Verixa’s clan leader after what she had done in the restroom facility, and now she was being told she was the medical proxy by the standards of Nekuli tradition.

  “I—I don’t understand. What is there to do with Verixa if she has no body? I know for a fact that she would not want to live out the rest of her days as a... spinal cord on life support. She would rather die and take her place with the ancestors than exist in such a way. What other possible option could there be but to let her die peacefully?”

  Turning back to face her, Tli-nir's suit projected a large holographic screen that displayed several windows with data and diagrams, one of them showing a rotating female Nekuli body that looked normal. Next to that was an internal diagram of the same body but entirely composed of technology instead of flesh and bone, except for the brain and spinal cord that had tens of thousands of nanofilaments connecting it to the rest of the synthetic body.

  “I have determined that it would be possible to blend Ma’lit and human medical technology to create a hybrid system that would allow Verixa to live within an artificial construct. We can use certain elements of the bottling technology you use for your BioSynths in conjunction with Ma’lit exosuit technology to create something unique and allow the patient to live on in an artificially created body. This is the only option available besides death, and the choice you are required to make needs to be made soon.”

  Lopez stared at the holograms, simultaneously fascinated and repulsed by the possibility being broached by the Ma’lit doctor. Would Verixa want this? Would she want to continue to live on as an android, or would she hate Lopez for doing this to her? A more selfish part of her asked another question, and she heard it ringing in her mind as she continued to stare at the diagrams.

  Can you afford to lose a leader of her capability when the Balrikans come? It is better to deal with her hating you for the rest of your life than to deprive the quadrant of one of its few battle hardened fleet commanders. You would not lose just her; Sarix would suffer, as would Therax. They will still fight, but they will never be the same after her dying in such a fashion. They need her alive and with them, just as much as you do.

  “I want to see her. I cannot make this decision without looking at her first.” Lopez blurted out, surprising herself just as much as she did the others judging by the looks the Pathfinders shared among themselves. Tli-nir seemed to hesitate, though its suit did not move at all. Several moments passed before it spoke again, a noticeably reluctant inflection transmitting from the exosuit speakers.

  “There is a reason why there is a privacy screen, Madame President. I strongly urge you not to let this be the last memory you have of the patient; there is only a 42% chance of the procedure working, and what you will see if you insist on doing this will be with you for the rest of your natural lifespan.”

  “I still want to see her. I owe her that much before I make a decision that will determine if she lives on as something...different or if she dies.” Lopez demanded with far more conviction than she felt as an internal war was being waged inside of her. I am being asked to decide her fate, and I am not worthy of such a responsibility, not after what I did before coming here.

  “You have been warned, Madame President. Please come here; the others will remain where they are.” Lopez immediately flashed a stand-down signal to head off Franco’s attempt to prevent her from leaving the protective circle around her, and he reluctantly nodded his assent after looking in her eyes for a long moment. Her heart beating fast in her chest, she forced herself to start walking towards Tli-nir as her shaking knees threatened to make her stumble. She managed to make it without embarrassing herself, and she closed her eyes briefly as she prayed for the strength to endure what she was about to see.

  Looking at Tli-nir after opening her eyes, she spoke barely above a whisper. “Show me, Doctor.” The lenses of the suit zoomed in on her face for a moment, their mechanism whirring softly as they examined her from multiple viewpoints before she saw the doctor flick one of its unusual fingers.

  The privacy field hummed briefly before dissipating, and Lopez drew in a sharp breath as she saw what remained of Verixa on the table. In the center was a pitifully small mass of badly disfigured flesh within a nearly translucent fluid solution. Lopez visibly recoiled before turning away from the horrifying sight, hot tears pouring out of her eyes as she struggled to breathe.

  Her hands were balled into tightly clenched fists, and she brought the right one up to her mouth and bit into it hard enough to break skin as she tried to stem the wave of uncontrollable sobbing that threatened to overwhelm her.

  The metallic taste of salty blood filled her mouth, and she continued to bite down hard on her fist, the pain anchoring her to the terrible moment as she tried to work up the courage to turn back around and give Verixa the respect she was entitled to. “Do you wish for the privacy field to be turned back on, Madame President? Tli’nir asked quietly, its speakers lowered enough to be heard only by her alone.

  The question seemed to ground her, and she stopped biting on her fist before dropping it back down to her side, feeling the warm blood trickling down her fingers and dripping on the tiles beneath her foot. In the silence, she could hear the blood hitting the floor with a wet splattering sound as Tli-nir waited for her to respond. “No, Doctor. Thank you. I just needed a second.” She finally answered before forcing herself to turn back around as the overwhelming shame of what she had done before coming here returned with a vengeance. Mercifully, the inner voice did not return with the shame, and she was now facing what remained of Verixa again.

  Verixa's face was badly disfigured with burnt flesh, making her almost unrecognizable. Lopez forced her eyes to travel down to the torso, scarcely believing the doctor was able to successfully resuscitate Verixa considering the extent of her injuries. Her right arm and shoulder were gone, and only half of her upper left arm was still there, a jagged piece of humerus bone sticking out past the half-melted stump. Her chest was torn open and badly burned, and Lopez stared at the exposed ribcage before her eyes roamed further down to take in what little else remained of Verixa's torso.

  There was nothing else left of her to see, and Lopez quietly sobbed as her eyes lingered at the exposed stomach area. Verixa had been ripped in half from the explosion, her torso terminating just above where the Nekuli version of their pelvis was located. She would never be able to lay her own clutch of eggs, something she had confided to Lopez that she wanted to do when the war was over. Verixa felt like a failure for not doing so yet, and she had been in the process of interviewing prospective mates before she came to the station.

  Now she would never be a mother, and Lopez felt her heart breaking for her friend as she stared at the empty space where Verixa's cloaca should have been. “How did she survive this... this is not possible.” She murmured quietly to herself as her eyes lingered on the lump of flesh. To see such a noble spirit reduced to this state by a cowardly assassin was the worst injustice she could think of, and for Verixa to die at the hands of such vermin was not something she was willing to accept.

  She felt her resolve harden, and she turned to face the Ma’lit medical exosuit standing next to her. She was willing to endure Verixa hating her for the rest of her life if it meant she could save her from such an ignoble end. As fresh tears fell down her cheeks, she focused her eyes on the main camera located in the center of the exosuit.

  “I will not allow her to die like this. She called me her Clan leader, though I am not worthy of such an honor being accorded to me by a true and noble warrior like Verixa. She deserves a better death than the one facing her now. Do it. Do whatever is necessary to save her and allow her to rejoin the coming fight. If she is to die, she will do so on her own terms, not like this.”

  The camera she was staring into zoomed in on her face, and Tli’nir responded a moment later. “We will do our best to ensure her survival. I only hope she understands your motivations and does not come to unfairly resent you. I can see your grief, and I know you are doing this out of love for her.”

  “I do too.” Lopez whispered in response as she reached up with her left hand to angrily wipe the tears away from her cheeks. Tli’nir’s main camera remained focused on her face while a secondary one pivoted to look at her still bleeding right hand. “You are injured, Madame President. Please give me your hand; I will treat it for you.”

  Lopez raised her right hand and looked at it, having forgotten about it bleeding from her gnawing on it before. The top of her hand and the first three fingers were bright crimson, and she could now see the exposed knuckle of her index finger where her teeth had torn the skin away.

  Tli’nir reached out with one of its modified hands and held it over hers before a spritz of something came out of one of the surgical digits. Her whole hand went instantly numb, and she quickly looked towards the Pathfinders to warn them to remain where they were as Tli’nir began suturing her injury with tiny surgical tools that came out of the tips of the digits.

  All the Pathfinders were facing towards her, their hands resting on the hilts of both their plasma pistols and short swords as they glared at the Malit doctor. She used her eyes to tell them to stand down, and she saw the slightest change in their dispositions as they reluctantly moved their hands off their weapons and down to their sides. "I am finished, Madame President.” Tli’nir said unexpectedly, making her turn her head back to face the Ma’lit doctor as he moved his modified hand away from hers. She glanced down at her knuckle and gasped in surprise as she saw absolutely no evidence of her knuckle ever being damaged.

  Even the blood was gone, and she tested the repair, flexing her fingers before rapidly opening and closing her hand several times. There was no pain, and she looked back up into the main camera before speaking again. “Thank you, Doctor, I am grateful.” The camera roamed over her face again before the Ma'lit responded to her. “It was my pleasure to serve you, Madame President. Now if you please, it is imperative that we begin the transfer, and we need to move the patient into the surgical bay to proceed with the procedure. I will make sure you are kept apprised of our progress, and you will be the first to know when we are done.”

  “Yes, please do. Thank you for everything you have done, and will be doing for Verixa, Doctor. I am indebted to you, regardless of the outcome.”

  Tli’nir didn’t respond to her statement this time as it turned the suit back towards the table and began to tap on the tactile holographic control interfaces that appeared around Verixa and the table. Knowing when to make herself scarce, Lopez gave Verixa one last look as she whispered an ardent prayer in her heart before turning around and quickly walking over to her waiting bodyguards.

  “Let’s go see Sarix; they need us out of here.”

  “Understood, Madame President.” Franco acknowledged as the others began to fall in around her. They proceeded out of the now-open double doors where 2-R was still waiting for them, and Franco spoke to it. “Take us to President Sarix, please.”

  ~ As you wish. Please follow me and do not deviate from the assigned path. ~

  As they followed the android, Lopez ignored the doubt and worry festering inside of her. She had decided on a course of action, and both she and Verixa will have to live with the consequences of the choice she made. All that mattered was surviving the coming war, and to do that, she needed Verixa, Sarix, and Therax to lead the Commonwealth forces.

  After she checks on Sarix, she will go back to her quarters and interrogate Skarl as she waited for Thompson to call her from NSR-14. The agents of the Balrikans needed to be dealt with, and she needed the rest of the quadrant to see for themselves that the Republic was willing to do whatever it takes to protect its citizens. Even if that meant invading the home world of another species.

  Citizens were the most precious resource of the Republic of Humanity, and now the others will see for themselves what a pissed-off Republic was truly capable of. They will also see what what Lopez was capable of. They killed people she loved, and she was not even going to bother trying to pretend that she was doing this impartially. They tried to kill Sarix, and Verixa still might die. She wanted vengeance for them, for her dead and wounded companions, and she was going to get it, one way or another.

  What do you think of the chapter? Let me know!

  


  


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