Title: Rescue Run

Author: Lady Rheena

Genres: Alternate Universe, Action/Adventure, Romance

Rating: R

Disclaimer: If you recognise it from a fandom, I probably don't own it. That includes the world of The Matrix, all its characters and the concepts it entails. The idea of the Fleet and the Planetary Coalition are technically my own, but you'll probably recognise bits and pieces from various sci-fi media.

Chapter notes: More on the Coalition later. For now let's say I still prefer to think that at some point in the future, if we survive, humanity will unite as a common people. I'll keep my rose-coloured glasses until they get broken, thank you very much.

Part 7- Going Orbital

'Do you realise what you're proposing, Captain?'

'I do indeed, Commander. I'm proposing the only way to make contact with the Coalition that we now have.' Dena stabbed a finger down at the printed plans currently laid out on the main table of Lock's command centre in the main dock. 'If we get a ship into orbit seven months and sixteen days from today, we'll be detectable to the Prospector IV on its way back from Terra Luna.'

'What makes you so damn sure?'

'Because I know the mining guilds, Commander, and they're bastards for keeping to schedule. The Prospector IV is due to launch in five months and sixteen days, so believe me come hell or high water that ship will be launched on the dot. They'll spend two months parked dirtside surveying and drilling and whatever the heck else they do, then on the dot they'll launch for the return to Phobos base. On the journey back they'll pass within easy scanner range of Earth orbit. They'll be doing routine sweeps, and if they see something buggering about up there that shouldn't be you can bet your ass they'll come over to investigate. The mining guilds answer to Fleet, Commander. That means to be granted access to restricted airspace, which covers the entire Earth and anything buzzing around it, they'll follow Fleet protocols to the letter. And I may be but a humble pilot, sir, but I know my own service's protocols.'

He sighed and hung his head wearily for a moment before speaking again.

'Captain, I honestly believe you're on our side, if there is such a thing. Really I do. The modifications you've already suggested to the Icarus and the Dauntless have increased power efficiency and made those two into better functioning ships that can rack up three times the distance before they need to recharge. My engineers tell me that they're well on the way to duplicating the flash EMPs and I don't even care to think about how many lives those will save. But sacrificing an entire ship to such a project isn't an easy decision to make. We don't have that many. It's more difficult than you'd believe to scrounge up the parts to make more. And the Logos is…'

'The smallest, fastest and most manoeuvrable ship in the fleet,' Dena finished for him.

'Yes. And she also has our best pilot.'

'Captain Niobe?'

'She flies like I breathe, Captain. And Niobe is-'

'Not a lady you want to piss off?' Dena finished again, this time with an impish grin. He looked at her with vague alarm, brows furrowing. 'Pardon the liberty, Commander, but it is obvious.'

He sighed.

'She loves that little ship. It won't be easy to convince her to give it up, let alone to a- an offworlder. The Council will also need to be consulted.'

'Damn it.' Dena cast her eyes heavenward for patience. 'Whoever came up with the idea of a civilian government in a military survival situation should have his balls sliced open.'

To her surprise, Lock gave a bark of laughter. It was the first sign of levity he'd ever shown and a half-cocked smile improved his face considerably.

'Don't we all know it! Spoken like a true soldier, Captain.' Then he sobered and glanced down at the plans again, idly following something with his finger. 'Do you really think this can work?'

'I've had worse starting material, sir. And if your people can make me that hull sealant, we'll have the Logos ready to go orbital before you know it.'

The next thing was of course to convince the Council. This time Dena was ready for them and after consulting more carefully with Lock she knew which of the individual councillors to target- and she'd learned the one name that mattered, which was Hamaan. Old silver-hair was apparently the most forward-thinking, the one best defined as slightly crazy, and more importantly the one whose opinions could influence the whole of the rest of the council and perhaps sway an entire decision. There was an equivalent in every assembly of people, and the trick that Dena knew was to make the whole address here as if she were speaking to Hamaan alone. According to Lock, if she won him over the rest would quickly fall into line. The next step, and the more difficult one, would be to convince Niobe.

'We hadn't expected to see you again so soon, Captain,' said Councillor Dillard, whose name Dena had also quickly discovered to avoid calling her hairpiece. 'But Commander Lock tells us you have a proposal to make.'

'I do, Councillor.' Dena rose and walked to the table, laying down a smaller version of the draft refit plans she'd assembled after begging a copy of the Logos' blueprints from the cranky Zion archivists. 'This is a set of rough drafts for a refit of the Logos.' As she turned back she saw Niobe, who was seated at the other table again with her crew, snap to attention in her seat.

'What manner of refit, Captain?' Dillard asked, unrolling the plans. They clearly meant very little to her.

'A complete refit, Councillor. The Logos, like the rest of Zion's fleet, is a hovership. However unlike the rest of the fleet she is also a smaller, sturdier and more compact design. In fact she's the perfect size and structure for what I'm proposing.' Pausing to turn and face the council again, Dena remained standing in between the two speakers' tables so all eyes remained on her. 'Councillors, I believe that with some engine modifications, a little ingenuity and a lot of elbow grease we can give the Logos orbital capability.'

That got their attention. Dena risked a discreet glance at Niobe, who mouthed what the hell? at her. Ignoring this, she continued to address the council.

'My flight to Terra Luna was only a reconnaissance for a more major prospecting mission aimed at locating minerals or other useable resources buried there. In just over seven months, Councillors, this mission will be complete and the vessel making a flyby of the Earth as she returns home. They won't be interested in this planet, but they will be making standard sweep scans.' Again she paused for impact. 'If they detect an orbiting ship, even one that doesn't match any design they know, they will come to investigate. They'll make contact. And when they do they'll be relaying everything that happens back to the command post at Phobos base. If we get their attention, Councillors, Zion will have the attention of the entire Coalition.'

She stopped there for a longer moment to let this sink in.

'What would you say, Captain, are the chances of success if this plan goes ahead?' asked Councillor Grace, a dark-skinned woman wearing a headscarf in turban fashion.

'With the correct modifications to the Logos, a half decent crew and a launch within the appropriate time window, I believe this venture has at least a ninety percent chance of success. Maybe more.'

'A crew, Captain?' Dillard echoed. 'You are the only person on this planet who has ever flown anything beyond the Earth's atmosphere. Where do you proposed we find a crew?'

'Volunteers, Councillor. I can train them. They'll be heavily involved in engineering the alterations to the Logos and so familiar with the systems that are installed.'

'But you'll do the flying,' Niobe put in suddenly, in a tone Dena couldn't interpret.

'Yes, Captain, I'll do the orbital flying,' Dena said, deciding to play that particular trump card early. Pretending to address the council again although her next words were meant solely for the other captain, she went on, 'I would recommend to the Council that a pilot proficient in traversing the tunnels and surface of this planet be included on the crew to manage sub-orbital navigation.'

'Your recommendation is noted, Captain,' Dillard said.

'Pardon my ignorance, Captain,' Hamaan put in, leaning back in his chair and tilting his head up to look at her down the length of his nose, interest mingled with scepticism on his face. 'But suppose this venture, as you put it, succeeds. Suppose the Logos does successfully make contact with the Coalition via this prospector craft and have this contact relayed to Phobos. What exactly will that mean to us here, in Zion?'

Good question, Dena thought. Lucky that she and Lock had anticipated it and planned a riposte.

'It will mean, Councillor, that you can once again pick the red or blue pill.'

Thank you, Commander, she thought as the council fell to muttering amongst itself at this. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the oriental man- Ghost, she remembered Lock telling her- leaning across to whisper something in Niobe's ear. The captain only nodded neutrally, her gaze still levelled on Dena.

'Could you clarify that please, Captain?' Hamaan asked, unfazed.

'Choose blue, Councillor, and stay in here, stuck down the rabbit hole in the middle of an endless stalemate of a war that you've been fighting for at least the past hundred years. Choose red, leave this place behind and you'll have a new home in a place where no sentinel can ever reach you.'

'Are you suggesting that we leave Zion?' asked Councillor West. 'That we abandon our home and tamely retreat before these machines?'

'I am suggesting, Councillor, that you could build a new Zion in a place where your children can run free, barefoot on green grass under blue skies.' Dena folded her arms and injected steel into her tone. 'Within the past twenty years my people have begun the process of extrasolar expansion; the location and colonisation of new habitable planets in other star systems. In the present climate there is nothing we value more than a group of people who can live in relative independence on a new and untamed world. People who have order and discipline. People who can manage resources. Survivors. People, councillors, like every man, woman and child of Zion.' Silence, but she had them all riveted now. 'Do you know, councillors, what the standard drop number for a brand new extrasolar colony is?' Without waiting for a response she answered the question for them. 'A million people over five years. That's how many of our civilians it would take that long to begin to make a foothold in an environment where they have no enemies, ample natural resources, fully-equipped military assistance and data records telling them exactly what to expect. Your ancestors carved Zion out of this planet's crust with a fraction of that number, little more than their bare hands and a war going on around them. Councillors, if that's what you can do here, just imagine what you could do on one of those raw new worlds in the same situation as those dumbass colonists of ours. You'd make them look like amateurs! Hell, compared to you people they are amateurs!' She'd been walking slowly to the front of the room again, and now leaned forwards onto her hands and the table in front of Dillard. 'And once you've proved that world, it's yours. You have a representative in the congress. You're a part of the Coalition. You have a future.' Stepping back again, she let her voice drop so they all strained to hear her. 'Earth may have been your cradle, Councillors, but don't let it become your grave as well.'

There was a long, drawn-out silence once she'd finished. Then the councillors all turned to each other and began to converse in low, urgent tones. Dena went to sit back down between Lock and his lieutenant. He gave her a brief, tight smile that reflected her own opinion.

She had them.

The council conferred for several minutes and then abruptly fell silent. It was Hamaan, to Dena's delight, who spoke next.

'You've a way with words, Captain. And a conviction behind them, it's obvious. Your plan is ambitious, to say the least. I don't doubt there are many in this city who'd call it foolish.' He paused. 'Commander Lock, what is your opinion of this idea?'

Lock did not stand, but his voice was firm.

'I believe it is feasible, Councillor. It will take a great deal of work and resources, but I honestly think it can be done. Should be done.'

'Then you truly think it is in the city's best interests, Commander?' Dillard said, sounding shocked.

'Councillor, the mark of a true tactician is know when the battle is over. I can say,' he went on, sounding more haggard than Dena had yet heard him, 'Within this room and in assurance that it will go no further than these walls, that this war is currently in a deadlock. Without any kind of radical action I cannot see any alternative other than that it will remain so indefinitely.'

'So you condone Captain Reese's idea?' Hamaan said.

'I do, Councillor.'

This prompted some more discussion but it quickly died.

'The Council cannot make this decision alone,' Dillard said. 'We will say that so far as it is possible, Captain Reese, we approve of your idea and your plan to implement it. However we cannot and will not order any captain to surrender her ship to such a plan.' Her gaze moved to the other table. 'Captain Niobe?'

Niobe glanced over at Dena and then stood. She took a breath and stared down at the tabletop in front of her, then abruptly looked up, but instead of looking at the council she looked right at Dena, her dark gaze seeming to bore in halfway to the other woman's soul.

'Captain Reese, the Logos is yours.'