Act on Instinct
Wonder if Europe still has any coffee left?
Battle Commander Gabriel Connor was standing in the CIC of the Kodiak currently taking him across the Atlantic. It was 23:07 hours, but he wasn't feeling tired. Partly because his body clock was still set to (time of Washington DC). Partly because for the last two months, he'd been getting through the hell of what people were calling the Third Tiberium War with a combination of guts, grit, and no shortage of stimulants. So far, the unholy trinity had managed to keep him and his forces alive. Right now though…
He used his hands to move the holographic map before him. Usually he'd have subordinates do that kind of thing, but it was the graveyard shift. In two hours' time, the Kodiak would touch down in Germany, and he'd be given command of all GDI forces in the country. Shifting the map across the pond, he supposed he had to give InOps credit – up until twenty-four hours ago, the world could be divided between blue, yellow, and red, if one was looking at the levels of tiberium contamination. As of two months ago, one could look at the world in a very different manner – blue and red, with the red having once thrust into the blue, but been forced to pull back in almost every theatre of war since said thrust. Now, looking at the map, he could see the battle lines were between blue and purple. Purple that had landed on every continent in the world, Europe included. Purple that now marked Germany in numerous splodges – Munich, Stuttgart, Cologne…GDI knew nothing about the alien invaders, but at least they could be colour coded.
"EVA," he said. "ETA to arrival."
"One hour, fifty-five minutes, and eighteen seconds."
"Status on GDI forces in German theatre."
"All GDI forces currently in retreat or engaged in defensive actions. Casualty rates as high as ninety-five percent. Military death toll estimated at 2.36 million. Civilian death toll estimated at 4.56 million."
He sighed, slumping down into a chair, rubbing his eyes. "Please tell me that we're at least putting up a good fight."
"Error – I do not understand the question."
Jesus Christ you stupid piece of…He took a breath. "Give information on alien losses."
"I'm sorry, I do not have that information."
He sighed. "Estimate."
"Insufficient data."
He clenched his fist. "Can they be killed?"
"Affirmative. Field reports confirm that alien invaders can indeed be destroyed."
"But you've got nothing on how many or how easily?"
"…I do not have that information."
He closed his eyes, leaning back in the chair. EVAs weren't true AIs – they were sophisticated, they were effective, they were invaluable to both GDI and Nod battle commanders, but they weren't what one could consider sapient. Since the Second Tiberium War and CABAL's little crusade against human life, GDI had been dead set against any true artificial intelligence, and whatever the Brotherhood of Nod thought, they were at least without any successor to the rogue AI (far as he knew anyway). Right now though, he wouldn't have minded an AI. Some kind of program sophisticated enough to make proper guesses on the nature of extra-terrestrial life, and how easy it was to kill them.
"EVA, how long until arrival?"
"One hour, fifty-three minutes, and forty-two seconds."
He yawned, closing his eyes, rubbing his chin, and reflecting that not only was he starting to feel tired, but that he also needed to shave. Either he'd be the saviour of Germany or a corpse on a European battlefield, but damn it, he could at least look good either way.
"Incoming transmission."
He opened his eyes. He spun round in the seat he was in and looked at the terminal behind him. The screensaver of the spinning GDI eagle (which was the screensaver of every GDI terminal because…reasons) had been replaced with white letters on a blue background.
INCOMING TRANSMISSION
B-2, WASHINGTON, PENTAGON
FROM: GLOBAL DEFENCE INITIATIVE THEATRE OPS
TO: BATTLE COMMANDER GABRIEL CONNOR
RESPOND? Y/N
He frowned. He really didn't want to deal with it. He wanted to make the use of his remaining one hour, fifty-three minutes, and forty-two seconds by getting some shut eye. Still, he hit the "Y" key. Not only did he have less than one hour, fifty-three minutes, and forty-two seconds, but apart from said desire for sleep, he couldn't think of any good reason to hit "N." After all, who would even be listening? Nod was as good as destroyed now that Kane was dead, and if the aliens were listening in on GDI's transmissions…well, he doubted humanity could do much about that. It wasn't as if the invaders needed to listen on GDI transmissions, given how much damage they were doing. But if any alien was listening on this transmission, first thing they'd see was the image of Lieutenant Kirce James.
"Lieutenant."
A very tired looking Lieutenant Kirce James.
"Commander."
Which wouldn't say much in of itself, given that pretty much any transmission between GDI personnel would have at least one of them looking tired right now.
A moment of silence passed between the two of them as he watched her type on her terminal. "This just came in," she said. "Directive from General Granger."
Gabriel decided not to joke about Granger not contacting him himself. Probably had enough on his plate already. Instead, he read the memo, his eyes widening:
ATTN ALL GDI PERSONNEL
EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY, NO ACTION IS TO BE TAKEN
AGAINST BROTHERHOOD OF NOD FORCES.
CEASEFIRE IN EFFECT
ANY DEVIATION FROM THIS DIRECTIVE WILL RESULT
IN PUNITIVE ACTION
"The hell?" he whispered, questions running through his mind. Usually beginning with "why" or "how" or "what." The memo faded, revealing Kirce's face. For the first time since Egypt, he could see the faint outlines of a smile.
"Surprised?" she asked.
He rubbed his eyes. Little surprised him anymore. Even an alien invasion was something he could comprehend on some level. But a ceasefire with the Brotherhood? He'd ask what Granger was smoking, only he didn't want to have any "punitive action" directed against him.
"Well, surprised me too," Kirce continued. "But in light of what's happening in Sydney…"
He opened an eye, the other remaining closed as sleep's claws dug into him. "What?"
He saw the lieutenant press some more buttons on her laptop. A second later, he saw an aerial feed from an observation drone. A feed that made him whisper "what the hell?"
It was Sydney. Or rather, the zone wall that surrounded Sydney, preventing tiberium encroachment into its blue zone. On one side of the wall was Sydney itself, but that wasn't what caught his attention. Rather, it was the presence of what was beyond the wall. Alien aircraft (spacecraft?), and vehicles (or what he thought were vehicles, so many of them looked bio-mechanical). Not odd in of itself, as horrific as they might be. No. What did catch his attention was the presence of Nod forces outside the wall as well. Engaged not with GDI, but the aliens. And, he had to admit, not doing too bad a job of it.
"Apparently Nod isn't so fanatical that they think killing us is more important than staying alive," Kirce said.
Gabriel could only nod dumbly. From this high up, he could see the three way battle unfold. Could see Nod using the tactics it was known for, using their ground and air forces for quick hit and run attacks against the invaders. For all of the aliens' advanced technology, the Brotherhood apparently had them outclassed when it came to mobility.
Or they don't care, and just want to focus on Sydney.
"For what it's worth, a lot of the higher-ups aren't happy about this either," Kirce said. The feed terminated and he was left with the lieutenant's visage. A visage that was still very tired, and now bereft of any mirth it had possessed a few seconds ago. "But, well, orders are orders. Battle Commander Trinh has Sydney. You have-"
"What do you think about this?"
Kirce blinked. Gabriel realized that for the first time, he'd asked the lieutenant a question that she genuinely didn't understand.
"What do…I think?"
"What do you think?" he repeated.
"I…I don't…"
"Aliens, Nod." He yawned. "Life, the universe, anything."
"Um…" He watched her look around the room she was in – the conversation should have ended as soon as she showed him the Sydney footage, and they both knew it.
"Okay, first of all, it's life, the universe, and everything. Not 'anything.'"
But if these were the last days of mankind, apparently she could indulge in this distraction.
"And what do I think about Nod and the aliens?" She sighed. "I think…well, on one hand I think that the aliens are clearly the bigger threat. They've done more damage to us in twenty-four hours than Nod did in the last two months. But…"
"But?"
"But my instincts tell me that Nod wouldn't be helping us at all if they didn't have some ulterior motive behind it."
Gabriel smirked. "We are going to have to act, if we want to live in a different world."
"…Sir?"
"Under-secretary General Foyle? The old United Nations?"
She just stared at him.
"The words that historians said marked the beginning of the First Tiberium War?"
She remained silent.
"The moment the UN Security Council gave GDI the go-ahead to engage Nod openly?"
"I…" She sighed. "History was never my thing."
"Wasn't mine either, but-"
"And if acting on instinct means a better world…well, we both know that isn't right, is it?" She frowned. "I'm sure Boyle acted on instinct when he gave you the order to use the ion cannon against Temple Prime."
Now it was Gabriel's turn to frown. Not so much at Kirce herself, but rather the memories she dredged up. The moment that he hit the button (not red, blue) that turned an ion cannon against Temple Prime, detonating a stockpile of liquid tiberium that had irradiated Eastern Europe, killing millions. The same explosion that he and many others theorized had drawn the aliens to Earth in the first place. How, why, he couldn't say, but the timing between the blast and the detection of the invaders in the Kuiper belt was, in the words of Granger, "beyond coincidence." If this was the end of all things, well, he may not have signed humanity's death warrant, but he'd sure as hell been on the firing squad.
"Commander?"
He looked at Kirce. "Hmm?"
"Commander, I can't stay."
"Hmm? Oh, yes, of course." He gave her an idle wave. "You're right. I-"
"But for what it's worth, I don't think anyone blames you."
He scoffed. "Didn't think you were in PR."
"I'm not, but you don't work in Theatre Ops without having an ear to the ground. Trust me, people here are mad at Boyle, not you."
"…thank you, Lieutenant."
He didn't think she was lying. How history would look back on this time, he didn't know. He and the rest of GDI would have to secure a future in the first place so history could be indulged in. But then, what was history but a series of moments such as this? Moments that had Kirce give him one last small, yet reassuring smile, before terminating the feed. Moments that involved him slumping back in his chair. Moments that involved him saying "EVA, ETA to arrival?"
"One hour, forty-nine minutes, and thirty-two seconds."
He remained silent. First instinct of his was to get some sleep. The second was to get in the field as soon as possible.
"EVA, wake me up when we're fifteen minutes from our destination."
"Affirmative Commander."
As he headed out of the CIC, he reasoned that those two instincts weren't mutually exclusive.