A Note from the Author: A big thank you to everyone who's stuck with this, and a special callout to AstroLibra in particular! I hope this last handful of chapters is satisfying.
Chapter 28: Align
Artima had been told that although they'd moved a pertinent distance away from Tekkadan and McGillis' forces, Avrias remained in the standard orbital ring around Mars. Not that she saw the rust-colored planet for herself - ever since her arrival on the AR-7 a little over half an hour ago she'd remained in the hangar with Kheree, watching from the upper gallery as the small team of technicians repaired her. They did not seem to lack materials or manpower, making her wonder if they had anticipated this eventuality.
When did Orga first contact them? Before they engaged with Gjallarhorn? Joy hadn't been specific and Artima hadn't asked outright. But then, she realized they couldn't have anticipated obtaining her today - Joy had gone to retrieve something to illustrate whatever it was that might convince Artima she needed to be here rather than on the Isaribi. If they'd known beforehand, it struck Artima that Joy would be the type to have had it on hand already.
While she waited, Artima stewed in anxious energy: impatience, indignation, and a largely directionless anger; she felt as much like a caged animal as she had during her time at Gjallarhorn, or like Taki when forced to sit still for too long. Although she forced herself to stay sitting on the rail, her entire being felt full to the brim - she thought of how stupid and distracted she'd been to not realize Orga's trickery, thought of his likely reasoning, thought of Eugene, thought of the possible consequences of not being there for them when the inevitable next stage began on Mars, thought of McGillis' continuing influence and the smile she wanted to permanently rip open, thought of the near impossibility of Duo Maxwell's group of Sweepers reaching out across the cosmos to find her after all this time. It made her twitchy - something that in the old days would be sated by a cigarette or, better still, a run in Kheree. But worst of all that last option seemed risky now. She wanted to ask for a few scans to see how her brain looked, see how the Viper Construct looked, but didn't know yet if it was safe to admit to a problem. It was strange to have to be in charge of taking care of herself - there was no Taki around anymore to do it for her - and, moreover, recognize that it was worth doing.
"I should probably advise you to get some rest, Miss Wei," said Joy as she approached with her ever-present bodyguard, "but I know you're not going to listen."
"Maybe start by telling me why I should be here at all much less resting," Artima commented, eyeing the tablet in Joy's hand.
Joy stopped next to Artima. With her free hand she reached into a pocket and a lighter disappeared into her palm, then her fingers pincered out a pack of cigarettes; she handed them both to Aritma without comment. Artima ran her thumb over the turquoise and silver waxed paper, her thumbnail creasing the curve of the three-tongued flame logo that reminded her of Tekkadan's iron flower. She hesitated before slipping one out; after snagging it in her mouth, lighting it, taking the first inhale, she realized she'd no longer missed the taste or the hit and wondered when that'd changed. She clacked the lighter shut.
Joy placed her hand on the railing. Artima eyed the blotchy purple scar that started between her thumb and forefinger and dashed across her knuckles; it disappeared under a very expensive-looking ring - a huge unpolished chunk of what looked like malachite set in gold. "Assassinating McGillis Fareed would indeed take care of Tekkadan's immediate problem - and no doubt provide you some satisfaction - but I'm sure you realize that they wouldn't automatically be let off the hook by Gjallarhorn."
"I know," Artima said more softly than she intended. She thought of the younger boys gathering around her, begging her for stories. Skepticism returned to her voice. "Strange that Tekkadan has an ally that suddenly appears out of the woodwork."
"It's more that Tekkadan upsetting the applecart caught our attention, and that we have been presented with an opportunity that would be to our advantage if things fall a certain way."
"'A certain way'," Artima drawled, taking another drag from the cigarette. It didn't taste like how she remembered - not even how its newer incarnation had tasted when McGillis had gave them to her. "Thought I'd left the political machinations back with Gjallarhorn." She sighed. "Spit it out. What do you stand to gain and how?"
Joy pursed her lips and shifted her weight. "I'll get straight to the point: we would like you to strike instead at Rustal Elion. His death will not only result in far-reaching chaos that Avrias can manipulate, but will draw attention away from Tekkadan and instead place it on you."
Artima couldn't help it - she grinned a lazy grin and stared into the middle distance between her and Kheree. "You had me fooled," she drawled again. "Here I was thinking you wanted me to live."
"We were under the impression that you would. Should I find someone else?" Joy countered, deadpan. She took a deep breath, began tapping at her tablet. "You of all people should understand how straightforward this is, given the right resources - which we have - and the right person - which you are." She raised the tablet to show Artima a series of windows laid on top of one another; the first was of the standard orbit ring of Mars filled with a double line of Gjallarhorn ships, one highlighted in red, with dotted lines of flight trajectories. "Gjallarhorn will begin its blockade once Tekkadan lands - first with the local branch, which will soon announce its severance from McGillis, and then expand to include Rustal's forces once they catch up," she swiped a finger to reveal another window, where the blockade ring had grown thicker. "Naturally, their priority will then be to cut off Tekkadan's means of funding and communications before closing the distance," she swiped again to reveal a topographical view of what Artima could only assume were Tekkadan's headquarters, "where they will then wipe them out. Simple warfare."
Artima took the tablet and began flicking through the data. They gathered all this through the Ariadne network? she asked herself. She tapped ash off the cigarette into the abyss.
Joy pointed with a pinky nail, "Notice that in between these two stages, Rustal himself moves between two safe harbors - the standard orbital ring, and the forces on the ground. Normally this level of foreplanning is part of their success but in this case, it will be to their disadvantage because they think everyone else will either be inside or outside of that deadone." She swiped right, clearing all of the prior windows in favor of a single one showing a simulation of the two groupings of Gjallarhorn forces and Rustal's ship moving between them, and a single trajectory line pinpricked with an arrow labeled 'KM' intercepting it. "They will not see you coming until it's too late."
Artima released the tablet and leaned back to consider this information. "But they have to have seen us here in orbit," she said.
"Gjallarhorn knows Avrias, yes," Joy scratched at a mole on her chin, "but they know us as an inconsequential company that handles a few colony utility installations. This ship is simply chaff on their radar. Of course, all of this will announce a gross oversight on their part."
Artima idly watched the technicians scurrying over Kheree's back, moving diagnostic cables. She squinted. "An awful lot is riding on Rustal - the entire fleet, really - doing the predictable thing."
"You're correct."
"And you were just...waiting around for the possibility that I might show up one day to help initiate all this for you?"
"Also correct. We could never know if Mr Maxwell was right. We were instructed to bring you into our custody, or at least assist and protect you. It so happens that Avrias was ready to make its next move in the interstellar economy when Tekkadan emerged, and the prospect of Gjallarhorn's monopoly crumbling became a real possibility. The fact that you then appeared was an additional blessing that we never could have dreamed. Everything is aligning."
Artima was quiet for a minute, and took a couple of drags. She felt saddened despite herself. I guess it was foolish to entertain the idea that I might have had a chance to live some kind of normal life, this go round. She smirked to herself. "I wonder if Duo knew. I mean, I thought he'd turned a new leaf - what's the point in asking you guys to protect me if you're just going to use me as a catalyst and be done with me."
Joy seemed genuinely surprised by this. She turned off the tablet and handed it over her shoulder to her bodyguard and folded her wiry arms. "You don't know, do you? Why you were frozen."
Artima mirrored her surprise. "Ryker's Disease -"
"No," said Joy, then closed her eyes for a moment, "I mean yes, but also no." For the first time since Artima had arrived her face turned into one of genuine sympathy. It was her turn to sigh. "The problem was always going to be the duality between you and your mission partner, Taki - between the Khort Mogoi and the Komori. Where one grew, the other grew. Where one lived, the other would inevitably live."
Artima frowned at her. "I saw the Komori in pieces at the Chifeng Museum."
"But you also saw the Mobile Armor Hashmal. You know that all of the Mobile Armors came from the Komori." Joy turned away and looked out at the hangar. "Mr Yuy and Mr Maxwell, and Taki of course, showed remarkable foresight when they not only destroyed the Komori, but hid the Khort Mogoi and had you frozen. It was a leap of faith, but they were desperate I suppose. Once Toki's plans for the Komori were leaked, it was really only a matter of time before they were adopted by others - in that sense, the Komori, like you and the Khort Mogoi, also survived. They anticipated that this would cause a problem in the future and that you would be uniquely-placed to combat it. "
"But Mikazuki defeated the Hashmal. I thought that was just a fluke. Weren't they all destroyed?" Even as she said it she remembered her bargaining words to Naze and Orga - she knew better.
"What do you think is going to happen when Gjallarhorn is on its knees?" Joy asked, looking at her askance. "Wouldn't you do the unthinkable, if you were desperate? Do you think that this is all going to end cleanly? The fate of Tekkadan should be the least of our worries." She placed a hand on Artima's arm, "As I said - and I wish I didn't have to - things have aligned. Unfortunately, it seems it was always going to be you."
Orga stepped out onto the familiar red dirt of Mars; he was the only one around, and content for it to be that way. Everyone was grateful to be back at base - they'd only just got back a couple of hours ago - so many of the boys hadn't reemerged to begin the routine tasks out here yet. He breathed in deeply the dusty, metallic smell and let the nostalgia wash over him. They'd been born from this dirt, this smell. But as comforting as it was to be back home, there was a bitterness to it - he was still fighting, not to claim it all but simply to hold on to what was theirs to begin with. The shadows were growing long with evening; a cold was settling over everything. He looked up at the sky and imagined he could see the Avrias ship disappearing into time itself.
He still felt plagued by his decision to hand Artima over, though he remained sure that it was the right thing to do. Still felt plagued by her stare, still felt the weight of her hand on his collar - he didn't know why, but he hadn't even washed off her bloody fingerprints - but moreover, still felt the ache of Eugene's punch and his words. It was hard to untangle how much of what'd been said was true. His head had felt too crowded, his heart too hurt, for far too long. The fact that he'd heard Eugene had stayed after all was a miracle.
I'd told myself that Eugene made himself my deputy and that I just went along with it, but really...he's inexhaustible. He sees everything so clearly and better yet, knows what he needs to do to get there. I'm just a dreamer by comparison. He pushed his hands into his pockets and turned his back to the buildings and the wind that blew grit into his eyes. I don't deserve -
The door behind him clanked open and squeaked on its hinges. "Hey."
A glance over his shoulder told him it was Eugene, coincidentally. "Hey," he replied. They hadn't spoken since Eugene had stormed off; Chad had had to handle their re-entry and landing because he wasn't even present for the descent. Although he seemed far calmer Orga wasn't sure what to expect, but was sure he'd deserve whatever it was.
The door clanked shut again. Eugene came to stand beside him, his hands also in his pockets. His face looked more tired than Orga had ever seen it. After a long moment he said, "I'm sorry."
Except for that, Orga thought in surprise. "I don't deserve an apology from you. I'm the one -"
"Would you shut up and listen?" Eugene interjected. "You made the right choice. I'm sorry I lashed out. That wasn't the right way to handle that. I was just so frustrated that she's gone and I didn't get a chance to say goodbye, or how I feel. Wasn't right to take it out on you."
"No, you were justified," Orga said. He toed a rock loose from the dirt and began to nudge it around. "I shouldn't have gone behind your back, or lied to you about it."
Eugene made a skeptical noise. "If you'd told me what you were going to do, I probably would've messed it up. Or if somehow I didn't, I would have had to tell her goodbye and she would've caught on to what was happening."
"I'm still sorry it had to turn out like this," Orga said to the darkening landscape in front of them. A stronger wind pulled at their coats, a stronger chill. "I told her that. That I wish things could've been different." He realized what he'd said and hurried to add, "Not different like - not like that."
Eugene raised a hand in his direction, "Stop. It's fine. It's fine if…" he cleared his throat. "Did some thinking. Realized that it's fine if you liked her too. I won't be insecure about it. No point."
Orga abandoned the rock and turned to him, "Eugene I don't. Not like you do. Believe me. It's just that - and you know this - she…" He paused, trying to figure out how to explain it all to Eugene and not color it with unnecessary details: the memory of her asking if he wanted her to kill McGillis, if he wanted to live; how close she'd been and the stickiness of her blood between her skin and his; that godawful silence on that bridge and the endlessness of her eyes.
"She's like music," Eugene said softly. "She makes you want to move."
It sounded strange, but not that strange. No stranger than some of the things he'd thought since knowing her. "No. In fact she made me want to stay perfectly still," said Orga, "and she made me like it. Staying still is the absolute last thing I've ever wanted, so for her to do that...it's terrifying. That's how I knew I couldn't be alone with her again. She had to go."
"You need to stop looking at Artima like some kind of instrument of divine retribution. She's just flesh and blood like the rest of us."
'Flesh', he thought of when he'd carried her out of Vingolf, the first time he'd felt a woman's naked skin, 'blood', he thought of her mark on his throat, his hands covered with it that night he'd handed her over to Camice in the museum gardens. "I know," he said. "That's why I'm trying to take her out of the equation from now on. It's all I can do for her and I should have done it a long time ago." He looked up at Eugene. And it's all I can do for you.
The two of them remained in newly-comfortable silence for a while. The stars strengthened as twilight fell.
"Why'd you stay?" Orga asked.
Eugene hesitated, then said, "Because I'm your deputy. Gotta see this through to the end." He smirked. "Besides, Mika seems pretty sure she's coming back, whether you like it or not. But when she does - I'm not sharing." He leaned over and gave him a friendly punch to the shoulder and a wink.
