After the fall

Dustin sat watching as Bleu and Rye ran through yet another set of diagnostics with Defia. The rogue Fractal’s account of her quasi-coma state had everyone puzzled; by all accounts, there was no way her core processes could have been tricked into not accessing her external sensors, while still also reporting enough data to have allowed her to generate such an elaborate scenario. Also, her temporal de-syncing definitely had happened; neither the medic nor engineer had realized how dangerous it could have been at the time, but they had both picked up on it during their scans of their lover’s unconscious form.

EarthGov were at least being respectful of her privacy; he’d been prepared to have to keep Emely and potentially Yril’k from attacking security forces when they heard that Defia had woken. However, instead of the expected quarantine and round of questioning, all that had happened was one very polite bureaucrat turned up with a list of questions for the rogue Fractal to answer “whenever the patient feels able to”. It seemed that compared to the reports of the rest of the crew and Sola’s AI core, his government was putting little stock in what his synthetic lover had experienced.

On the subject of Sola, the shipyards had cleared the craft to move from the isolated facility they’d used to sweep her systems and cargo holds for any remnants of the Fractal infestation or the crystal growths. She was now resting in a far more populated dry-dock alongside half-finished warships, Star Command clearly having taken the decision to move her next refit earlier than planned given the opportunity.

Sighing, Dustin glanced down at his tablet as he considered that point. They’d gotten the message recalling them to Earth shortly before the strange aliens had moved them to Sol space far faster than a weave jump could manage, but since arriving everything had been so complex that he’d not had a chance to check in with Axworth to find out why. Setting the tablet down and standing he nodded to the three women and left the room, pausing only to double check with Yril’k that she was okay to remain on guard outside a little longer.

Axworth himself had arrived at Titan earlier that day, leaving a message for Dustin to come and see him when it was convenient. The fact that the old man had chosen to fly to the outer system shipyards rather than wait on the new council station for Sola to be cleared for spaceflight had caused Dustin some concern, but after the shock Defia had given them all she had taken priority.

Reaching the General took him some time; Titan was designed more around the needs of shipbuilders than it was around the needs of negotiators and diplomats. The route from the quarantine area that his crew occupied to the one where Axworth was waiting took him through three checkpoints, a tram ride and a series of lifts - at least one of which was either malfunctioning or didn’t have grav-plating for some reason. Regardless, Dustin found himself at last outside a temporary office and pressed the buzzer to be let in.

On entry, he glanced around the sparsely decorated room. Desk, chairs, coffee machine… “This takes me back, sir. Not a million miles from the office I first met you in, isn’t it? I assume my wife’s uncle isn’t going to materialize halfway through our discussion this time around however?”

Axworth snorted into the coffee he’d just raised to his lips. “No, Re’x didn’t join me for this one - he’s busy back on the station trying to keep a bunch of vegetable farmers we just inducted into the new council from rioting because we won’t authorize a full military escort between systems miles from the front lines just to protect root crop haulers. Food is important, but it doesn’t need us to deploy multiple destroyers without reasonable risk.”

Setting the drink down, the general frowned. “First things first, Dustin, how are you and your ladies holding up? Coastwood… no, sorry, it’s Smith now isn’t it? In any case, she let me know about the situation with Defia as soon as they cleared your people to make calls. I understand the lady in question is back on her feet now?”

Dustin nodded. “Yes, sir. She’s got our best people checking her over, and the rest of us are spending as much time with her as we can - honestly, I’d like to get back there myself… but given you’ve flown all the way out here, I’m assuming whatever you recalled us for is serious? We’d not have made it back normally for at least another few weeks, and even with the time they’ve taken to question us and move Sola to get refitted it feels like we’re ahead of schedule. I have to ask - what happened that’s important enough for you to rush over here?”

Axworth sighed, then pulled a packet from a secure case by his side - real paper, not a tablet - and tossed it on the table in front of Dustin. “This room is as secure as any I can find, Ambassador. Have a read of that; command doesn’t want any of the information on it to be uploaded to any more systems than necessary, so I couldn’t tell you over a comms link or via a data packet.”

Frowning at the secrecy, Dustin flicked through the dossier. “This is… where did we get this intel, sir?” he asked, glancing up from a series of grainy photos of Durathisian research facilities, Fractal mass growing in vats and the results of weapons tests on hopefully unoccupied moons.

“Around the time you were busy negotiating with the Olanse - good work there by the way, damn sneaky lizards are going to be a real asset once we get them to open up on their cloaking tech - we got a message via an informant working for your newest father-in-law. Did I congratulate you on that yet? No? Well, congratulations. Anyway, apparently not all the Durathisians are fully behind this play for galactic domination, or indeed the way in which their society runs full stop.” Axworth briefly paused to refill his coffee and continued, “so, some renegade groups have been pooling together to present a unified resistance front. That front managed to get a sympathizer into one of their government’s black-site research labs to take those pictures, get them out and then got them to a Tho’unn agent.”

Turning back to Dustin, the general frowned. “We don’t know much more than that at this time. The sympathizer had to go no-contact after the leak, and the informant’s sources have clammed up. The Tho’unn did give us the go-ahead to rendezvous with their team who can get us in contact with the rebels, should we want to work with them.”

Dustin frowned. “That sounds like it could be a trap, with respect sir.”

Axworth snorted. “Of course it could be a trap, Dustin. Damn Durathisians planted biobombs in half the goddamn council, we don’t trust them further than we could throw them. But… if there is a renegade faction we could use, it could cut the inevitable conflict we’re going to have with them in half. Which is where you come in - we can’t deploy the military, they’d detect us. Can’t send a civilian ship either - if it got into trouble, it’d be unable to get away. Which just leaves…”

Wincing, Dustin finished the general’s speech for him. “The Solar Ascent, right? We’ve got firepower not that far below one of our cruisers, but we show up like a diplomatic vessel to anyone that’s not directly scanning us in detail. What’s the mission exactly?”

“Get to the rendezvous point just inside Durathisian space to meet with the Tho’unn informant. From there, follow their instructions to make contact with the Durathisian resistance and if appropriate offer them suitable aid or assistance. Try and make positive links with these people, the same way you do with every alien species you meet Ambassador. Also, along the way if you run into any species you think you can flip from their side to ours, do so. But Dustin…” Axworth’s eyes met his. “If it does turn out to be a trap, I expect you to show them why you shouldn’t fuck with Earth. Get us friends, or get home safe."