/* Big Country "Far From Me to You" _Why the Long Face?_ (1995) */ Eyrie Productions, Unlimited presents UNDOCUMENTED FEATURES EXILE STAR-CROSSED Part VIII: Operation Desperate Gamble Benjamin D. Hutchins (c) 2010 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited SATURDAY, AUGUST 4, 2356 BSS INCINERATOR HYPERSPACE_ Relkan leaned against the frame of the entrance to the Incinerator's officers' mess. "Hey." Vido Santiago looked up from his breakfast. "Yeah?" "Just got a signal from the Fearwind. They're gonna get to Scandia ahead of schedule. Wanted to know if you wanted them to park someplace and wait for the rest of us, or go in and raise a little hell before the main event." Vido considered this for three links of sausage and most of a waffle - just a small part of the huge breakfast he invariably indulged in on days when he had some serious mayhem planned - then said, "Tell 'em to send their aero assets in and blow some shit up. They want to try and grab anything that might be valuable, that's okay too, but if they're still down there when the rest of us get in, they're gonna get wasted, 'cause I ain't waitin'." Relkan nodded. "I'll make that clear." "What about Garvex's shuttle?" "Hasn't moved. Doesn't respond to hails. Transponder's up, but they must have shut down the remote command system." "Hn." Vido shook his head. "Hate to waste a brand new Kodiak like that. Tell Vinidashvili to get it back if he can." "I'll tell him." GOODYEAR_ With little else to do but wait for developments, and having been sternly ordered -not- to help with the packing and carrying because they might need to be rested later on, Scott Chen and Gryphon were playing cards in the security office. "Fives?" asked Chen. "Go fish," Gryphon replied. "Dang." Observing the game from her miniature holojector, Vision suddenly flinched, then giggled. "... Yes?" Gryphon asked. "They keep pinging me," she laughed. "Well, they -think- they're pinging their shuttle. It tickles." Suddenly, she stopped giggling and looked very serious. "Uh-oh." "Uh-oh? What uh-oh?" "New sensor contact. Just dropped out of hyperspace out beyond Substance. Hmm. Only one ship, but it's broadcasting Blue Suns IFF, all right. 'Fearwind', how... pretentious." Vision fell silent for a moment as, outside, the portable HW antenna set up next to the Valkyrie pivoted to tightbeam on the incoming ship. "No wireless network, so I can't get into their systems... too bad. Got a good TEDAR paint on them, though. It's an old Salusian pocket carrier. Triumph-class, I think." "Dammit! They're early. Are they maneuvering to engage?" "No, they're just sitting there. ... Hold on. More new contacts. It's not the rest of the fleet... the carrier's launching fighters." Gryphon dropped his cards and got to his feet. "That sounds like my cue," he said. Outside, the dismantling and evacuation of Goodyear was well underway; even now about half the houses were gone, and little convoys of colonists were clearing the items from the others and carrying them to the staging area. A small crowd broke away from the work and gathered near the Valkyrie at the sight of Gryphon emerging, suited up and fastening his armor. While he started a walkaround of the fighter, Chen and Zaeed unloaded Vision's processor module from its bay and secured it in an armored cargo container next to the HW antenna rig. "Keep her safe," Gryphon said to Zaeed, who nodded. "That's what I get paid for," he replied. "Good hunting up there." "Kind of wish I was going with you," said Chen wistfully. "Been a long time since I was in a good aero scrap." "It'd be good to have a wingman," Gryphon replied. "Too bad we don't have another fighter." He climbed up onto the Valkyrie's arm and was making ready to climb onto the boarding ladder when a voice hailed him from below. "Where are you going, Mr. Wedge Defender? You're not runnin' out on us, are you? OW!" Alice Hernandez shook her head and stepped past Herrick Mitchell as he rubbed the back of his head. "Harriet, keep your brother quiet, I don't care how you do it," she said. Then she took a playing card from the band of her slouch hat and offered it to Gryphon. "Here, Commander, take this. It's always brought me luck in my hunts." Gryphon gave her a bemused look, then smiled and took the card, tucking it into the breastplate of his CVR. "Thanks," he said. "I'm going to need all of that I can get." EX-BLUE SUNS STARSHIP 25 OR 6 TO 4 HYPERSPACE_ Tali'Shukra looked up from the text file she was reading on her omni-tool when the navicomputer beeped, checked the readings, and then settled back into the pilot's seat. "Ten minutes out," she said. "It's about damned time." "I thought we were making good time," said Miranda. "This little shuttle has a pretty perky hyperdrive for such a small ship. I remember a time when you'd be lucky to get factor two point five out of a ship this size." "We are," Tali agreed. "But I'm so tense right now, I think a spacefold would take too long to suit me." Miranda smiled. "You'll do fine." "I hope so. I -have- to. I'm not really worried about that, anyway." The quarian trailed off and busied herself with checking the flight controls, hoping Miranda would take the hint and let the matter drop. Of course, she didn't. "You've really got it bad for him, don't you?" she said, amused. "That is none of your business," Tali replied curtly. "Of course it isn't," Miranda agreed. "But what else have we got to talk about? Do you want to hear a bedtime story about your knight in shining armor?" "From you? No." "Well, then shut off your audio pickups if you can, because I'm going to tell it anyway." Tali put a hand to her facebowl. "Hngh." "Once upon a time," Miranda began, "there was a brave young fighter pilot. Actually, he wasn't that young, he just looked it, thanks to clean living. And some genetic modification so advanced it makes mine look like they designed it with an Etch-a-Sketch. Anyway, in addition to being a fighter pilot, this bold and busy boy did some work for the 3WA, and one day the Central Computer asked him to shut down an organization called Cerberus. "In the course of his mission he happened to cross paths with one of Cerberus's top operatives, a ruthless and deadly but really -quite- attractive woman, who, in the course of HER mission - which was to stop him from accomplishing HIS mission - tried her best to seduce him. This was something she was -very- good at, and she had plenty of motivation to do a good job." "I am not listening to you," said Tali. Miranda pouted slightly. "Oh, but you'll like the next part. You see, the beautiful Cerberus agent maneuvered the brave young fighter pilot into a very expensive hotel room and spiked his drink, intending to have her wanton way with him and then eliminate him when he lost consciousness." Tali ignored the hanging statement for several seconds, but ultimately couldn't stop herself from turning to face her copilot and asking, "... And?" Miranda gave her a cheerful grin. "She woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and found the words 'maybe you should get a life' written in her lipstick on the bathroom mirror." Then, sobering, she went on, "By the time she found a secure telephone, the rest of Cerberus didn't exist any more. They were all either in prison or dead. Every one of them. But he'd let that one agent live and go free." She shook her head. "It took her a long time to figure out why. It wasn't something she'd have done. Eventually, though, she realized it was because the fighter pilot was something that she wasn't, but that she'd always secretly wanted to be." "... And that is?" Tali prompted. Miranda smiled again, just a little sadly this time, and patted Tali's nearer forearm. "One of the good guys." Tali regarded her for a moment, then shook her head and turned back to the controls. "And here I thought you were making fun of me." "No," Miranda replied. "I'm just so out of practice at being anything other than an utter bitch that I couldn't tell you that story any other way." "Was it true?" "Every word. I hadn't thought about those days in decades, until yesterday. I think... I think it was that quality of mercy that finally made me decide he must be telling the truth. I was a criminal - let's not mince words, an assassin - and I'd targeted him. He would've been perfectly within his mission parameters to kill me, and he had me dead to rights... but he let me go. Because he saw something in me that wasn't there in the others, maybe. I don't really know." Miranda sighed and slumped back in her seat. "But it was that day I decided to change. Get a real job, try to do some good for the galaxy. Use the advantages I was built with for something other than pushing some maniac's race-driven agenda. I denied it in the heat of the moment yesterday, but Gryphon was right. Cerberus -was- a human- supremacist terror network. We did... terrible things. We even tried to move against your people once. The 3WA stopped us that time, too, so completely that the quarians never even knew." "Oh, wonderful, and I'm bringing you to the flagship," Tali grumbled. "This day keeps getting better and better." "I just wanted to put it all on the table. I'm not that woman any more... but he's still that man. I think that's the fundamental difference between us." She smiled. "And for what it's worth, I agree with you completely. If our roles were reversed, I'd follow him into a lot worse than exile." Tali glanced at her, unsure how to react to that, and ended up saying only, "Uh... thank you. I think." The navicomputer saved her from having to say anything else as it chimed for attention. "Here we go... " Hyperspace blurred back to reality, and there before Miranda's eyes was the biggest damn fleet she'd ever seen. She knew that the Quarian Migrant Fleet contained upward of 50,000 starships, but it was one thing to have read that in an intel report and another to actually see it spread out in front of you. She'd always entertained the notion that the Migrant Fleet would look... well, a lot like the Freespacer Home Fleet, and indeed, there was something of that in the slightly ragtag appearance of some of the ships; but the quarians were a lot more assiduous about maintaining formation, and there were a hell of a lot more of them. As they approached the perimeter of the vast assembly, a couple of smaller ships vectored toward them, and a moment later the commset crackled with an authoritative voice: "Unidentified spacecraft, you are approaching the Quarian Flotilla. State your name and business." "You'd better suit up," Tali told Miranda, "unless you plan to wait aboard the ship." Then, keying her mic, she replied, "Patrol, this is private starship 25 or 6 to 4. Tali'Shukra nar Kythera speaking. Request permission to dock with the Archangel." "Your ship's registration is unknown. Verify." "'South and far south below the Line, our Admiral leads us on, / Above, undreamed-of planets shine - the stars we know are gone.'" A pause. Then: "Verification confirmed. Welcome home, Tali'Shukra. You are cleared to dock with the Archangel at Hangar Four." "Thank you, Patrol. Please inform the Archangel that I'll need a decon and security team. This ship is not clean." "Roger. Patrol out." If Miranda's first sight of the fleet as a whole had been breathtaking, the spectacle of diving into the midst of it was even more so. Even busy as she was with climbing into her old Sojourner EVA suit (which, she noted with a momentary inward smirk, still fit), Miranda had to just pause and gape occasionally. Ships of every size and description flickered past as Tali deftly guided the little Kodiak between them, row after row, rank after rank. And there, at the heart of it all, was another surprise: an Imperator-class Star Destroyer, surrounded by a flitting little constellation of fighters and other small craft. Tali swooped the shuttle under its leviathine belly and up into the cavernous hangar bay, following the flashing holographic guidelines into one of the smaller sub-hangars within. When they were down and locked, Tali checked to make sure Miranda's suit was sealed, then went to the hatch and opened it to admit the four-man security/decon team. "Tali?" said the team's leader, a tall quarian with red and black accents on his armored suit and, Miranda thought, the indefinable affect of a young man. He seemed taken aback at Tali's appearance. "Is that you?" "Hello, Vedik," Tali replied. "Yes, it's me." "What happened to your helmet?" "It's been a long week," Tali said. "I had to improvise a bit." The security sweep was a formality; the Kodiak was obviously not armed, and anyone with one working eye could see that there was no one aboard but Tali and her passenger and noplace for anyone to hide. The decontamination took a little longer, but within ten minutes, they were all walking up one of the long corridors leading away from the Star Destroyer's hangar deck. "I can't tell you how good it is to see you again, Tali'Shukra," Vedik said. "When you didn't write again after you reached Omega, we feared the worst." He put a hand on her shoulder. "I've missed you." "Not now, Vedik," Tali said, shrugging off his hand. "Is your grandfather aboard? I need to see him right away. It's important." Vedik seemed more puzzled by the request than hurt by the brushoff. "The admiral?" "No, the painter," Tali replied sarcastically. "Yes, the admiral!" "If you're returning from pilgrimage, you should talk to Captain Dakka," Vedik told her. "The admiral isn't - " "This is a lot bigger than my pilgrimage. A -lot- bigger. And a lot more urgent." Tali stopped walking and turned to him, now putting her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Vedik. I don't mean to be so brusque. I've got a lot on my mind and I -need- to see Admiral Zorah -right now.- I'll explain everything later." "I... " Vedik shook his head. "I don't understand, but I trust you, Tali. I'll take you to him." Vedik's grandfather the admiral turned out to be almost as tall (very upright for a man old enough to have a grown grandson), almost as skinny, and, if anything, even gladder to see Tali than Vedik had been. When she and Miranda were shown into his study on the Star Destroyer's flag deck, he had no hesitation at all about coming around his desk and grabbing her up in a bear hug, unusual helmet or not. "Tali'Shukra, by Keelah, you're alive," he said. "There were those among us who didn't think we'd ever see you return to join the crew of the Archangel. It's damn good to see you." "Thank you, Admiral, but... well, don't edit my personnel file just yet. The situation is... complicated." She turned and gestured to Miranda. "Admiral Kevirin'Zorah vas Archangel, may I introduce Captain Miranda Lawson vas... er, Goodyear. Miranda, Admiral Zorah is an old friend of my family's." "How do you do," said Miranda with a short bow. She had to pull herself away from studying her surroundings to return the admiral's courtesy. When they arrived, her attention had been drawn to a metal plaque on the study wall behind his desk. This bore the gearwheel logo of GENOM's Kuat Drive Yards subsidiary, where Star Destroyers were built, and the boldly embossed text, "GMV AVENGER - IMPERATOR CLASS WARSHIP". It made her wonder more than ever how the quarians had come to possess this vessel. "Welcome to the Migrant Fleet, Captain," said Kevirin. "We haven't had any outlanders visit us in a long time. Take a seat, please, both of you. Now, Tali, tell me all about this complicated thing. What can an old admiral do for you?" Here goes everything, Tali thought. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and blurted, "I need to speak to the full Admiralty Board and the Conclave. Preferably at the same time. And -fast.-" "Hmm." Kevirin'Zorah put his head to one side and regarded her thoughtfully; then the phantoms of his eyes curved upward in an expression even Miranda recognized as a huge grin. "Let me make a few calls. I can't -wait- to find out what this is about." SCANDIA-CN38 SYSTEM WITHIN THE ORBIT OF S-CN38 III ("SUBSTANCE")_ "Here they come," Vision reported from the center VDU. "I'm on them with your sensors and from the ground, so your missile targeting should be improved by 37 percent." Gryphon grinned. "What would I do without you?" he asked rhetorically. "Man, look at that mishmash of equipment," he added as the righthand VDU scrolled through a listing of what the threat computer's best guess was as to each of the 44 enemy fighters' type. "Who's their procurement agent, eBay?" "Don't get cocky," Vision warned him. "Lame equipment or not, they're professional mercenaries, and you've been taking it easy on the beach for six months." "Getting my R&R interrupted just makes me mean." Gryphon's grin took on a hard edge. "They woke the -wrong dog.- Awww, yeah." Then, after making double-sure his weapons were charged, armed, and grouped as he wanted them, he settled back in his seat, tugged his straps a little tighter, and said, "Vision, a little killing-these-pricks music, if you please." /* Chicago "25 or 6 to 4" _Chicago II_ (1970) */ The pilots of the Blue Suns starship Fearwind's aerospace fighter group hadn't been expecting to come up against resistance, but it ought to have occurred to them that it was at least a possibility. After all, none of the other Blue Suns who had come to grief in this rathole of a system had been expecting what -they- ran into, either, but the wildcat colonists of Resource Delta just kept coming up with the surprises. This one, though, was the surprise to beat all surprises, the -mother- of surprises. Yes, they knew the Butcher of Musashi was down there. Yes, they knew he had once been a Wedge Defense Force fighter pilot. Some of those with a particular bent for the history of their trade even knew that he'd been one of the best in the business back in the day. But none of the Fearwind's pilots had expected him to have a fully armed and operational VF-1FS Valkyrie fighter; none of them expected him to have so discarded his cover that he'd come out to fight them in it, slightly faded old squadron markings on full display; and none of them had expected him, of -all- people, to fight like a goddamn demon in defense of a bunch of dirt farmers on an uncharted ring station in the middle of goddamn nowhere. When he first came up, they thought he was trying to -escape-... when he turned -toward- them and blew their squadron leader away with an exquisitely placed Reflex missile, then started in on the rest of the flight with a more personal touch. Over the course of his nearly three centuries as a professional starfighter pilot, Gryphon had often had occasion to wonder whether it was entirely healthy for him to feel such exultation in combat. Because even though he considered himself, for the most part, a gentle man, he'd always loved it, even when it was hard, even when it was dangerous, even when what he was doing was diligently and systematically killing his fellow sentient beings - which was pretty much all the time, in that line of work. He didn't think of himself as a bloodthirsty sort of person most of the time, but there was something about a good fight - in space, in the air, sometimes even hand-to-hand if it was with the right opponent - that sparked something deep inside him, even while it forced him to confront that eternal paradox. Since he'd trained in Katsujinkenryuu, he'd done a lot less confronting, or rather he felt that the paradox was sufficiently embedded in his being that it no longer -needed- confronting; it was simply part of his nature. Satsujinken, katsujinken: The sword kills, the sword saves. By killing these people - who were, if he had to put so fine a point on it, rather asking for it - he was protecting his friends below, buying Tali time to complete her mission, and maybe, just maybe, doing the universe a favor. If his calculations of the worth of these actions were wrong, well, that would be between him and the Great Magnet, someday. In the meantime, he did what he did; he fought, he killed, and he enjoyed it with the pride of a craftsman. Though he couldn't help but notice, out of the corner of his mind's eye, that there did seem to be an -awful- lot of them. QNV ARCHANGEL QUARIAN MIGRANT FLEET DEEP SPACE, KRESGE SECTOR_ Tali sat in the waiting room outside the Conclave Chamber, trying not to fidget and wonder how she'd gotten herself into this. Life had seemed so much simpler a few days ago. Get up, do some work, patch up some colonists, do some more work, have a tube of nutrient paste, snuggle with the immortal fugitive from 20th-century Earth whom she'd met after being enslaved by criminals on Omega, listen to the Shipping Forecast, go to sleep. All right, maybe it wasn't -that- simple if you looked at it more closely. The door opened and Vedik entered, carrying a small oblong package under one arm. Tali shot to her feet, then chided herself. Calm, Tali'Shukra, stay calm. If you go out and face the Conclave in this state you'll make an idiot of yourself. "Are they ready?" she asked, but Vedik shook his head. "No," he said, "but here. I brought you this." He handed her the package. "There's a cleanroom through that door if you want to change. I thought it might help. With the one you're wearing, the admirals won't be able to see you at all. It'd be like talking to a... I don't know, a geth or something." Tali opened the package and took out a helmet like the one she'd lost on Halo the day before. "It's the same model as your old one," Vedik told her. "They don't make that exact one any more, but... I know someone who knows someone... don't worry, it's never been worn." "Thanks, Vedik. You're right, this will help. It was sweet of you to think of it." "Oh. Uh. I, uh... you're welcome, Tali'Shukra." He edged toward the door. "I'll, uh... I'll just wait outside... in case they call for you." Miranda waited until the door closed behind him to chuckle, causing Tali to glance at her. "What?" "Nothing," Miranda said. "How long have you known Vedik?" "Pretty much all my life," Tali replied. "He comes from the Kedrin, the ship where my grandfather lives. We used to play together whenever I went to visit. He did his pilgrimage a year or so before me, and when it was my turn he put in a word with Captain Dakka to get me considered for duty on the Archangel." "Ah." Miranda nodded. "Well, I admire his spirit. I mean, he clearly has no -idea- how high the tree he's trying to climb actually -is,- but... " "I beg your pardon? No, never mind. I don't have time for you right now. I have to go change." She'd just come out - and Miranda had to admit, she did look a lot more like herself with the more familiar helmet on and the decorative hood drawn up over-top of it - when Vedik returned and said in a much more businesslike tone of voice, "They're ready. Good luck, Tali'Shukra." "Thank you, Vedik'Zorah. How do I look?" "Fantastic, as always," he replied. Tali shot Miranda a cautionary look, but the human looked away, ostentatiously paying no attention. "Come on," Vedik added. The Conclave Chamber was like an auditorium, with the same angled floor, the same rows of seats, and the same raised platform at the "business end". On the little stage was a lectern, and behind it, facing the rows of seats, a huge holographic display. Packed into those seats were the 500 Delegates of the Conclave, the Migrant Fleet's civilian government - each delegate responsible for representing the interests and concerns of a hundred ships, chosen from the lesser legislatures that in turn governed those squadrons on a local level. In front of them, seated at a table right down in front, were the five members of the Admiralty Board, the highest-ranking members of the Flotilla's military leadership. As ranking admiral, Kevirin'Zorah sat in the center, his seat a little higher than the others. Miranda was impressed with the practicality and lack of pomp that characterized this most momentous gathering of the quarian government. There were no readings of declarations, no introductions, no calling to order or gaveling or presentation by the master-at-arms; just Admiral Zorah declaring, in a voice amplified from above to reach the whole room, "Tali'Shukra nar Kythera has requested this emergency meeting in order to present information of vital interest to the quarian people and our national survival. Tali... what've you got?" An expression Gryphon liked to use when something important and tricky was in the offing popped into Tali's head, and she couldn't suppress a little smile at the thought, even as she forced herself to raise her eyes and look at all the power and significance gathered in this room, and to consider the truth and the awful scope of what the admiral had just said. Showtime! Proud of the way her hand didn't tremble, she rezzed up her omni-tool, linked it to the holodisplay, and started feeding over the preselected images. Behind her, the holodisplay fuzzed for an instant and then showed a wide shot of Halo, taken by the all-aspect camera on Gryphon's Valkyrie as Zaeed and Vision brought it into the system. The ring twinkled beautifully with Substance in the background and Scandia- CN38 out of shot, fully illuminating it. At first, the admirals and delegates didn't know what they were looking at. Tali kept silent for a few seconds and let them consider it, knowing it would take them a little time to realize that what they were seeing on the inside surface of the ring was landmasses, seas, weather patterns, as you would expect to see on the outside of a Class-M planet. When they did that, and the accompanying sense of scale kicked in, a low murmur of amazement made the rounds of the room. "This is Halo, an artificial ring habitat," she said. "It's located not far from here, in the Scandia-CN38 system of the Kresge sector - technically within the boundaries of the United Federation of Planets, but in unorganized space. It orbits the third planet of the Scandia-CN38 system, a hydrogen-helium gas giant named Substance, which you can see in the background." As she continued speaking, the image changed to show various surface views of Halo - the mountains and cwms where she and Gryphon had first crashed, the forests they'd trekked through, the grasslands and canyons around Goodyear. "It has a diameter of just over 6,200 Standard miles and a Minshara-class environment on its inner surface with native dextro-amino flora but no animal or insect life," said Tali. "Most of the habitable surface - about 3.8 million square miles, less the bodies of water - has been mapped from space but remains unexplored. Its original builders are unknown, but we know it is at least 50,000 years old and, until now, both uncharted and unclaimed." She paused to let that sink in, then glanced at Miranda, who smiled and nodded. Tali returned the nod, then put both hands on the lectern and faced the room directly, speaking in the clearest voice she could muster. "Honored admirals and Delegates of the Conclave, as the designated agent of its discoverer, Captain Miranda Lawson, I offer Halo as her gift, and mine, to the quarian people." There was a long, silent moment wherein the entire Conclave was, uncharacteristically, united in a single emotion, that being absolute gobsmackitude. And then, as Tali had expected, everyone started talking at once. It took a few moments for the most vigorous delegates to make themselves heard, but eventually the tumult died down and someone up in one of the middle rows called down, "And what do you propose we DO with such a thing?" "That's up to you," Tali said, spreading her hands to make it clear she meant the "you" collectively. "It's a valuable artifact of an unknown ancient civilization. I'm sure there are scientists and universities who would pay well for the opportunity to study it. We could lease it or sell it and use the proceeds to support the Flotilla. Or we could establish a gas mine on Substance and use Halo as a stockpiling station." She shrugged. "If it were up to me, though, I'd think about settling on it." "-Settling- on it?!" "I've lived there for the past six months, in an agricultural settlement Captain Lawson and a group of humans set up after being stranded there by a starship crash," Tali explained. "The climate, at least in the area where we were, is temperate and the terrain well- suited for farming." "Your 'gift' to the quarian people comes with a human colony?" Admiral Rol'Daroth demanded. "That's an interesting thing to have left out of your grand little speech." Tali bit back a sharp reply and said instead, "I hadn't finished, Admiral. I thought it would be rude not to answer the Delegate's question, and it led us here. There's more you all need to know about Halo before a decision can be made, and time is of the essence, so if I may continue?" "By all means," said Rol'Daroth semi-sarcastically, gesturing for her to go on. "The supplies and equipment used to set up Goodyear, the human colony, were intended for a different world," said Tali. "No one knew Halo was even there when they set off from Earth. I mentioned earlier that Halo's native biosphere is based on dextro-amino acids, the same as our own; that's incompatible with human biology. It's not my field of expertise, but I have a report prepared by an expert biochemist who has lived in Goodyear since it was founded that should tell our scientists all they need to know. The short of it is that human-compatible agriculture on Halo has proven impossible in the long term, and Goodyear has to be abandoned. There won't be anyone there but us if you accept. However." She paused. This was going to be the hard part. "There is one other problem." "Oh, of course," said Rol'Daroth. "I suppose it's infested with some kind of mind-controlling, flesh-devouring parasitic life form." "Not... quite, no," Tali replied. "But for the last several months, a criminal mercenary organization called the Blue Suns has been trying to force the colonists out so that they can seize Halo for themselves and exploit it for their own profit. We've driven them off several times, but it seems the matter has become... rather personal for the man who leads the syndicate. When I left to come here, a small fleet of Blue Suns starships was on its way to glass the colony and kill everyone there. Goodyear has virtually no space defenses. It'll be an absolute slaughter." Tali gripped the lectern hard, looking from one admiral to the other before settling on Kevirin'Zorah. "As a gesture of goodwill to the people who discovered Halo and gave us the opportunity to use it for the benefit of the entire quarian species, I ask - I implore - the Admiralty to dispatch a task force at once to secure the Scandia system and drive back the Blue Suns before they can carry out this attack." Before Kevirin could speak, Admiral Daroth broke in, "Why should we risk quarian lives to intervene in a conflict between one group of humans and another? If the discovery of this 'Halo' was properly logged with the correct authorities, we can send these mercenaries packing with the appropriate legal action at our leisure - AFTER we decide whether we're even going to -accept- your 'gift'." Already wound tighter than a Toynbee coil, Tali could endure the admiral's pompous taunts no longer. Slamming both fists on the top of the lectern, she turned to him and blazed, "You miserable bosh'tet! You're offered the archaeological find of the millennium -and- a chance at a new home for all our people, and in return all you have to do is save a handful of human lives - but you want to turn your back on it AND them?!" "We are in a struggle for the survival of our very species, and we cannot make a habit of involving ourselves in the affairs of others," Rol'Daroth replied. "A conflict between a group of wildcat colonists and a human crime syndicate is no concern of ours. And you would do well to watch your tone, young lady. Speaking to an admiral like that is no way to ensure a successful completion to your pilgrimage." "You think this is about my PILGRIMAGE?!" Tali demanded, her voice sliding up almost a full octave in the last word. "You think I brought you this chance for my personal GAIN? Then to -hell- with you." So saying, she turned on her heel and stalked toward the door. "Come on, Miranda." "Tali'Shukra -nar- Kythera," Daroth bellowed, emphasizing the word that marked her as a child. "You have not been dismissed! Where do you think you're going?" "Back to Halo," Tali snapped. "To die with the friends my -people- can't be bothered to help." "Admiral Daroth," said Kevirin'Zorah in a calm but dangerous tone that stopped even Tali in her furious tracks, "you are out of line, sir. You do not speak for Captain Dakka, nor the full Board of Admirals, much less the Conclave." "And in my opinion you -earned- Tali'Shukra's wrath with your callous, pompous, -juvenile- antics," observed Admiral Cela'Lev dryly. "Now sit down and let us debate this like -adults,- or else be so good as to leave the room." "Hear, hear!" one of the Delegates shouted from the back. Others applauded. Tali hovered halfway between the lectern and the door, uncertain whether to stay or go, uncertain how to salvage the situation. Even if the other admirals talked Daroth down, she could see the signs. This was gearing up to turn into a good old-fashioned quarian debate, the kind of thing that could drag on for days, when they had only hours to act, if that long. Then, in a flash of insight, she realized what she had to do. "Captain Lawson," she said, "you command the survivors of the starship Goodyear Sojourner, do you not?" Miranda blinked, unsure where the young quarian was going with this. As the hubbub died down in the room again, she said, "Er... yes." "Your shipmates are stranded in an environment inimical to their biology, and face imminent and overwhelming attack by hostile forces - we might even call them pirates - who have no legal reason to be in the system. Yes?" Miranda started to catch on. She suppressed the smile that wanted to break out on her face, wishing for a moment that she had a tinted facebowl like everyone else in the room, and said in as serious a voice as she could manage, "That's correct." Tali turned to the Board. "Honored Admirals," she said, "whether the Conclave chooses to accept my gift is immaterial to the more urgent matter at hand. Goodyear Colony is -in distress- and -we- have the only ships that can reasonably carry out a rescue." Warming to her topic, she gripped the lectern with both hands again and declared in a ringing voice, "We quarians consider ourselves the finest spacers in the galaxy. How can we say that if we ignore cries for help that only we can answer? Did the Wedge Defense Force ignore -us- in the Fuel Crisis of 2184? Did the crew of the Minuteman Nine ignore us when GENOM came for us after the fall of the Wayward Son? No! They did not!" Seeing that some were still hesitating, and that Rol'Daroth was still sitting with arms folded, glaring, she went on, "By a simple hull count we outnumber the Blue Suns more than three thousand to one. This ship ALONE could defeat the force they're sending to destroy Goodyear. If we refrain from coming to the colony's aid, it won't be because we're reluctant to risk quarian lives," she said scornfully. "It'll be because we simply couldn't be bothered. We just didn't care! And if that's the case, then I am no longer proud to call myself quarian. If that's how it is, then maybe we really are just opportunistic vagrants, parasites and thieves - alien space trash, like our detractors always say. I'd prefer to die as a citizen of Goodyear than live as -that- kind of quarian." Her fury spent for the moment, Tali stepped back from the lectern and tried to get her breathing under control as the five admirals conferred and the Delegates murmured among themselves. She was surprised to feel a hand on her shoulder, more surprised to look and see that it belonged to Miranda Lawson, who was smiling and looked like she might actually be getting a little misty-eyed. The admirals' mics were off, so Tali and Miranda couldn't hear them; their argument was fierce, with much gesticulating, but also brief, and a moment later, Admiral Zorah stood up, switched his comm system to all-call, and declared, "This is a combat alert! Alpha group, detach from the main body of the fleet and prepare for spacefold. Delta, Epsilon, Eta groups, shift to fleet defense pattern two. Delegates, you have -15 minutes- to get to your shuttles and return to your ships, or you're coming along for the ride." Then he rounded the table and strode toward the door Tali had entered through, his advanced age nowhere to be seen in his carriage or gait. "Come with me to the bridge," he said, sweeping Tali and Miranda up in his wake. "And if I were you," he added to Tali with a barely- visible wink, "I'd steer clear of Admiral Daroth for a while. Well played, kid. -Well played.-" SCANDIA-CN38 SYSTEM_ /* The Black Crowes "Thick 'n' Thin" _Shake Your Money Maker_ (1990) */ "You know what," said Gryphon, slightly out of breath, "it's times like this I wish I'd liked the GU-13." "It's times like this when -I- wish I'd been there to -advise- you when you were making your escape," Vision shot back. "Why the hell couldn't you steal a Prowler Legios instead of this damn thing?" "I was - umph - under a lot of stress," he protested. "At a time like that you go for what's familiar. This old crate's been with me for a long time. It's like my security blanket." He patted the console affectionately. "A big fusion-powered ferroceramic woobie." "See, that's why I wish I had been there. I'd have told you how much better off you'd be taking something with a Shadow device. And proper VTOL capability. And passenger capacity. And cargo capacity. And more missiles. And more energy weapons. And not a goddamn 19th- century MACHINE GUN for main armament!" "How am I supposed to kill these guys with just my head lasers left if you keep harping at me?" Gryphon asked. "God, you are so my mom. Why did I create an AI that looks like my lover but thinks like my mother? That's so Freudian I can't even look directly at it. Besides, Betas don't have warp drive." "What, factor point-seven-five hyperdrive's not good enough for you? You're such a prima donna." "I'm the prettiest ballerina at the ball," Gryphon agreed imperturbably. "Hey, am I right in saying I've run out of targets?" Vision's avatar on the center VDU looked around. "Looks like it. Good job, space cowboy." "Thanks. Too bad we're all on our lonesome out here. If I had the Prometheus handy I'd go back for resupply, maybe take a run at that carrier." He sighed. "Ah, the lost opportunities. Oh well. Guess we'd better just hang here and make sure they don't launch any more fighters... and hope the quarians get here before Vido." "Mm. Speaking of quarians... " "Oh, do -not- start," Gryphon said, coming as close to palming his face as he could in a Valkyrie helmet. "I was just going to say, we have to get something with another seat if she's going to come on the road with us. I've reviewed the Ranger's cockpit logs, and cozy though that seating strategy was, I think you're going to have to agree it did -not- work." "Maybe we can keep that Kodiak." "It's not even armed." "Bah. I'm a tool-using primate. I can fix that." Vision arched an eyebrow at him. "Is that what the young people are calling - hold on. New TEDAR contacts." Gryphon glanced at the chron. "I hope it's the quarians." "No such luck," Vision said, but she didn't have to go on, because a moment later the light from the arriving ships reached them and Gryphon could see for himself. As a space fleet it was basically the equivalent of the fighter group he'd just finished dealing with - mismatched, mostly outdated, but well-kept and handled with something like authority. Many of the ships in it weren't even, properly speaking, warships; he spotted a couple of old Drayman-class freighters and a bulk transport near the back. Even those had been converted for combat, though, sporting heavy armaments and, his sensors reported presently, uprated deflectors. There was nothing amateurish about the ship in the lead, either. The Royal Salusian Navy still had Gearing-class destroyers, albeit ones from later, more advanced production blocks than this one, in front-line service. "That must have cost them a decent chunk of change," Gryphon remarked. "LIDAR signal detected. They know we're here. Oh, and here come some more fighters, that's perfect. The destroyer's signaling." "Yeah, uh, I don't think we need to bother, do you? You've heard one would-be badass tell you how much he's gonna kill you, you've heard them all." Gryphon sighed. "Well, back to work." "This is going to take forever with just four little lasers," Vision complained. "Yeah, we'll probably have to get creative." /* Electric Light Orchestra "Grieg's Piano Concerto in A Minor" _Flashback_ (2000) */ Creative they got, meeting the vanguard of the Blue Suns fleet in the skies over Halo. In order to maximize his tapped-out Valkyrie's advantages, Gryphon alternately lured his enemies down into the atmosphere, where the VF-1's wings had an advantage, and popped back up into vacuum, where he could use its mode-switching abilities to their utmost. These Blue Suns pilots, like the ones from Fearwind, were well- trained and experienced, but they obviously hadn't fought many Veritech pilots. They seemed unprepared for the Valkyrie's flexibility, the differing flight dynamics of its three modes, and the destructive uses to which its parts that weren't technically weapons could be put. Case in point: the SF-1050 Thunderking heavy fighter-bomber that took point in one of the three-ship Blue Suns elements that tried to take him down. It was slower than the Valkyrie, not quite as maneuverable, but its guns were enormously powerful and, with its missiles and cannon ammo exhausted, the VF-1 had no answer for its shielding and armor. With the smaller members of its flight to dart and harry the Valkyrie, hounds to the hunter, it momentarily seemed absolutely certain that the Thunderking was going to get its beam cannons on target and make its pilot a very rich man... ... until Gryphon, remembering something Max Sterling had done once in a fight with a group of Zentraedi Renegades, suddenly reversed his controls and charged. The Thunderking's pilot took his shot, but the Valkyrie's unexpected move had rattled him and he missed. His guns would take two seconds to recharge, but the Valkyrie showed no signs of breaking off its attack run, even with its popgun belly lasers clearly doing no harm at all. An instant after any prudent pilot would have broken off the game of chicken, peeled off, and in doing so exposed his VF-1's underbelly to the Thunderking's recharging guns, Eight-Ball One changed modes instead, switching to battroid mode. The Veritech fighter's main engines, still blazing at full power, swung forward and canceled most of its closing speed; one hand closed firmly on the Thunderking's wingroot as the two spacecraft came together with a shuddering crash. The fingers of the Valkyrie battroid's other hand plunged through the duracrys of the Thunderking's canopy and ripped it clean away, flinging the tangled, sparkling wreckage off into its own orbit around Substance. The pilot barely had time to register what had just happened before the VF's quad belly lasers, now mounted on its robotic head, tracked into position and filled him with photons. The last thing he saw was the Valkyrie's blank metal "face", the green crystal visor that protected its all-aspect camera regarding him without any emotion at all. Eight-Ball One used its grip on the now-unguided Thunderking's wingroot to alter its trajectory, springing "up" and over the speeding fighter-bomber's fuselage, and returned to fighter mode. The whole interaction had taken perhaps four seconds. The pilots of the other two ships in that Blue Suns flight weren't even sure exactly what had happened - only that their wingleader was now speeding off into deep space at full throttle, unresponsive to their puzzled hails, and now the Valkyrie was coming for another of them. The hand, Gryphon had been fond of telling his Veritech trainees back in the old days, is the original weapon. Although, he conceded mentally as he watched one of the Blue Suns ships launch another trio of fighters, technology has moved on a bit since then. Ah, well, it's a living. /* Cage the Elephant "Ain't No Rest for the Wicked" _Cage the Elephant_ (2009) */ Eyrie Productions, Unlimited presented UNDOCUMENTED FEATURES EXILE Star-Crossed Part VIII: Operation Desperate Gamble To be concluded in Part IX: Defeat Never Permanent E P U (colour) 2010