Kazak watched Volx go and looked at Vult. He was clad in an OD green uniform wearing his armor over it, but no visor or helmet. He stayed quiet for the briefing, seemed that Volx was going to handle this. "Should I continue with that thing back on Devastis? I'm all packed and ready to go."
Vult waited until Volx departed, the door closing behind her before addressing Kazak.
"I'm afraid that'll have to wait." He began, leaving his terminal with a datapad to hand directly to him. "The intelligence from Irk...from Byte...gleaned something very interesting. There was a series of numbers embedded in the information. Encrypted. Those numbers, when arranged accordingly, produced planetary coordinates."
On the datapad was the exact location. Uncharted space. Empty. Nothing. Well beyond the reach of any known territories of existing, discovered species.
"I know this appears to be absolutely nothing, but these coordinates rattled the Vortians in the brig once they were shown them. Corr brought it to my attention while I was down there. Turb confirmed it is the site of a very secret research facility embedded in some sort of lost-empire alien construct. A space station of sorts. Byte acquired this information somehow and wanted us to find out about it. I want to know why. I need you to lead Red Team and investigate. Off-the-record."
Kazak looked at the datapad, what was going on. Interesting...very...very interesting...though the entire team? That didn't seem like a wise move. "In all honesty? I think I should handle this alone before heading for Devastis." It was a crazy notion, yes, though he had a solid reasoning behind it. "You're sending out half the squad to the planet below. But you still need someone up here to keep the ship stable, so they're already down one. You need people to watch the brig, watch the ship. Corr's down, those Vortians still have part of their armor. My guess? That's the part that matters more than the armor plating in their capabilities."
He paused briefly, "You need everyone else here. If this really is related to Byte, considering what we all know...I think I'm the best one to handle it. Vard can help me remotely if anything. You need the rest of the team here. Vortians can't think that we're vulnerable, especially if those suits might be back online and we don't yet know about it because they're biding their time."
"Under normal circumstances, I would take that under advisement." Vult admitted. A brief pause to contemplate. "...though you do have a good point. Even with the SiR Unit back up and operational, it is not foolproof. The last thing we need is the Vortians attempting to escape with no one aboard to stop them...very well...I will go with you and Vard should accompany. This is too great an opportunity to pass up and further our own knowledge base for future endeavors. This site is the reason why the Vortians are so technologically advanced."
"All right. That should keep them unaware while we go check out...whatever this place is. I'm still set, so I'll meet you and Vard at the stealth shuttle." Should be more than enough, at the least. How long could this investigation take?
Kazak waited in the hangar by the stealth shuttle, Rem already moved the ship out towards their planned drop point. As time passed, he sat resting against one of the landing gears, only to see Volx and her team come through, headed for their issued dropship. They nodded to each other, her ship lifting off first and headed down below. Not too long after they departed, Vult arrived with Vard...and Turb. Vult had to know what he was doing, whatever it was. He stood and took his seat at the controls. Running through the pre-flight checklist carefully, and getting everything powered up, they'd be ready to go when the time was right.
Vard, once briefed by Kazak, moved with purpose to assist with stocking the appropriated Vortian stealth shuttle with necessary equipment. His homebrewed suite of tunnelers, crackers, and other means to forcefully break into all manner of encrypted data and facility access control. Powercells, additional armaments, and a myriad of grenades were added to the stockpile...in the event the mission deviated away from the initial plan. An unwelcome, but common occurrence in their line of work.
Vult, waiting until the others had departed and notifying Corr he was in charge of affairs aboard the Ghost of Irk for the duration of his leave, arrived in the hangar. Kitted out and loaded to bear like they were on Vort, he escorted Turb. Aero, whom had largely kept to her own business couldn't take it anymore having watched Vard and the others prepare.
Wearing her work overalls and covered in grease with tears and welding burns in the material aplenty, wiped her stained hands in vain as she approached.
"Soooo...where ya goin'?"
"Pardon?" Vult addressed her casualness. His tone and look brought her to attention with a salute.
"Sorry...Sir...uhh…" She began proper, thinking of the words. "The...acting...equipment maintainer...issss...curious to where the...equipment is departing to...Sir."
"Classified, First Sergeant."
"Really?" Her disdain bled through hearing those words with a huff.
"Yes, Aero." Vult responded a little more sternly, turning to address her. "Really. I can't tell you."
"Is that why you're not bringing the rest of Red Team...Sir?"
"Partially. Corr needs able bodies to make sure the other prisoners don't get any bright ideas with so few of us aboard and on-assignment." He explained.
"Not even a teeny-tiny hint, Sir?" She pressed, pinching her blackened finger and thumb together with a squint for emphasis. "Has to be somethin' big if you're taking Dr. 'Zharic with you...Sir."
"It is...very, very important, Aero." Turb spoke up, earning him a look from Vult. "We really cannot tell you much...but knowing your Commander, he may bring back some surprises for you from...the gift shop." Yes...gift shop...for the Irkens. Though, if things were getting as bad on Vort as he assumed, they'd be running straight into the military's contingency plan...and right into the hands of Vortian Marines and the survivors of the government and high command. What would follow should be...interesting to say the least...maybe Vult was finally coming around given everything.
Her antenna perked up at "gift shop" with a smile to match, pink eyes sparkling.
"Ooooh, right. Surprises," She winked before snapping another salute. "Very well, Commander...but...not that you need reminded...we will be without any sort of space-worthy transport off of this ship short of escape pods until you or the rest of the team returns."
"Plan on going somewhere, do you?" He smirked, making light of the news as he secured his rifle and gear in one of the many holds.
"Not particularly, Sir...just...y'know...stuff happens sometimes. Stuff happens a lot with us...most of it sucks."
"Ain't that the truth…" Vard muttered under his breath as he finished putting his equipment away before rising to address his commanding officers. "We're ready to set off on your command, Sirs."
"Oooh, one more thing." Aero pointed out, leaning to look past Vult and Kazak to her short-statured comrade. "Vardy."
"Yes?"
"Be careful."
"Uhhh...sure."
"No, promise me."
"...I promise, Aero."
"You mean it?"
"I mean it. I'll be careful. I promise."
"Good. Because if you're not and I hear about it, I'll kill you myself." She smiled playfully before about-facing to return to her duties much to Vult's mild surprise.
He was no stranger to such interaction. He and Hesa did the same in private...which led to his own assumptions as he looked between the two of them, but kept his words to himself. Another discussion for another time.
Kazak quietly went back on board and started firing up the engines, waiting for everyone to get aboard, sealing the interior behind them. It's been a while since he's been at the controls of a shuttle like this, but he could find his way around again. A flip of the switch disabled the magnetic hold on the landing gear and he slowly maneuvered the ship out of the hangar, punching in the coordinates for the location in question. The nav-computer automatically planned a route, a route stored in the memory banks. Interesting...so these two have been there before in this particular ship. "If we don't die…"
Turb spoke from his seat, "Speak for yourself. If they decide to blast you, I'm done for too."
Vult secured his safety harness in the co-pilot's seat as Kazak completed buttoning up the vessel and departing the hangar bay through the field separating it from the open vacuum of space.
"Don't remind me." Kazak huffed and hit the autopilot, letting the computer handle the navigation.
"While I am very optimistic about all of this, Doctor...your presence here isn't entirely out of the kindness of my heart." Vult admitted, looking at him over his shoulder. "I am banking that whatever passes for defenses at this station won't vaporize us instantly if they know you are aboard."
"A wise assumption, Commander. The station may very well blow you out an airlock." Not an entirely untrue observation, but a bit of an exaggeration. The station had some automated defenses installed the longer it's been in Vortian hands.
It'd be a matter of several hours, but they'd arrive at the station. Kazak flipped off the autopilot and made sure the stealth systems were active...he looked around outside of the viewport...and his jaw dropped.
There wasn't a single Vortian warship. There wasn't a handful. There was an entire fleet, flagship and all, stationed in formation just outside of what could be presumed as the space station itself. A rather large facility, seen unaided without the sensors or scope...but the fleet several hundred strong that rivaled what stood against the initial planetary invasion of Vort several months prior. A consolidation of military power and very clear that the Vortian people were far from subjugation.
Turb looked outside as well, seeing the assembled Vortian Navy. "So...looks like the contingency is active."
"Contingency? This is their fall back point?!" Kazak yelled back, "Oh, fuck me, this is just swell."
"Ervaus Team, this is Kyozist, respond immediately. You're supposed to be back on Devastis and we haven't received information on your changed orders."
"Ah, shit…" Kazak said, looking to Vult.
Quickly, Vult considered their options. Ervaus Team likely referred to Vara and Jur, their other two occupants in the brig keeping Kiara company. There was no way to know for sure what the handshake signals were with a facility of this nature. Intelligence had been sparse and a lot of assumptions were being operated on as a result.
Thinking fast before they bypassed repeated hails and started targeting them, Vult took up the receiver of the radio, tossing it to Turb.
"Say whatever you have to say to keep us in one piece to explain ourselves on their hangar deck."
"You are aware that they will likely take the three of you prisoner if they do not buy your explanation, yes?"
"A risk I'm willing to take. Byte brought us here for a reason. He wouldn't have done so recklessly." Vult explained, pointing to the radio in the Doctor's hands. "Answer before they get upset with us."
"Wait, what?" Vard queried hurriedly at this supposed it plan. "Who is Byte? What is going on, Sir?"
"I'll explain shortly, Vard. All I ask is that you trust me."
Maybe Aero's intuition wasn't far off by the sounds of it. He nodded shakily with an exhale to match.
"O-okay, Sir. I trust you."
"Ervaus Team, Kyozist, respond immediately."
Turb took a breath, keying the handset Vult handed to him. "Kyozist, this is Doctor Turb'Zharic. I am aboard the shuttle. Ervaus team has been taken prisoner."
"Doctor 'Zharic?! You're supposed to be dead!"
"No, I have been the prisoner of an Irken special operations team not unlike Ohnmatu. Clearly reports of my death were greatly exaggerated. They found the station by a Irken named Byte. They want to...explain their situation."
Silence "How many aboard, Doctor, including yourself?"
"Four."
Some more silence. Clearly deliberation in the background. "Doctor, instruct your pilot to land in Hangar Four. Any deviation and we will open fire."
"Understood, Kyozist."
Kazak sighed as he maneuvered the shuttle to head for the open hangar bay Turb pointed out. "I really hope you know what you're doing, Vult. Whoever this Byte guy is...I heard enough back on Irk to rattle me."
"I'll lie to you and say that I do," Vult admitted as he didn't miss several of the Vortian warships immediately moving from formation to track their approach. "If this goes south, I apologize in advance. Just keep the hands high and don't make any sudden movements. Unannounced guests at places like this rarely get warm welcomes, especially if they're the enemy you're currently locked in a war for survival with."
"Kinda with the Lieutenant on this one, Commander," Vard admitted, stripping his sidearm off and throwing in with the rest of their weapons. "...you haven't given me a reason to doubt your intuition yet, Sir...let's hope this isn't the first."
"You and me both, Sergeant." Vult responded, unbuckling his harness as Kazak entered the hangar and deployed the landing gear, setting down on the deck. From the viewport, he saw many Vortian Marines and security personnel with weapons drawn and trained on the shuttle already.
"Well, let's go see the welcoming committee…" Kazak said, getting out of his seat after powering down the engines and placing his borrowed weaponry in the shuttle's weapon rack, as well as his combat knife. The door opened, allowing the groups to step out. They were promptly surrounded by a group of Marines, rifles leveled right at their heads as a Marine officer came up and scanned Turb, making sure this wasn't an elaborate Irken trap. With his identity checking out across the board, the Lieutenant got on the radio.
"Admiral, checks out, this is definitely Doctor 'Zharic."
A voice came through over his radio that the others heard. "Bring the Doctor and our guests to briefing room three, immediately."
"Yes, sir." He looked to his men, "You heard the Admiral, move 'em!" He led the way, the Marines giving the Irken a sharp push to get moving while letting Turb walk of his own accord. The hostility was hardly unjustified given what was going on back home.
No sooner than the rear hatch lowered for them to depart, the "welcoming party" leapt into action. Turb was torn away and immediately scanned while the others kept no fewer than three rifles pointed at each individual Irken head. Hands were held aloft as far as they physically were allowed. Murmurs and comments about their strange-looking kit did not go unnoticed. These weren't Irken Elite. Definitely not Troopers...and didn't look like any known Spec Ops unit.
Just as Vult caught a solid glimpse of the numbers they were dealing with, a black bag was placed over his head. The same fate likely awaited Vard and Kazak. He was beginning to wonder if Byte's words and dealings had been an elaborate ruse to test his loyalty after all. Suddenly his optimism was beginning to wane and wondered if a grave mistake had been made on his behalf.
Whatever curiosity was held did not protect them from being roughly handled as muzzles were unkindly pressed into backs and shoves of insistence to move quickly guided them down the corridor towards a waiting lift. No words were said with the exception of "Move it!" or some other variation thereof during the brief quickened walk to the waiting interrogation chamber.
Vult heard a door unlock and slide open amidst the shuffling of boots. Forceful hands from each of his upper arms guided him around the room, kicking his legs from beneath him and placing him in a chair. Restraints were immediately applied to his wrists, secured to the table. His ankles got the same treatment.
"Two, Four, sound off," Vult spoke aloud, earning him a rifle butt to the jaw even with the black bag over his head.
"Shut it! Speak when spoken to!" One of the guards venomously spat before another peeled the mask off, forcing Vult to squint at the harsh change in lighting, tasting blood in his mouth from the strike.
Vard and Kazak were in the room with him, receiving a similar treatment. Turb himself was unrestrained and offered a drink. To which he gladly accepted. After a few moments of waiting, and Turb taking a sip of his drink the door opened, one of the Marines sounding off, "Admiral on deck!" The Marines immediately rendering salutes with their rifles as four Vortians walked into the room. One of them in an armored suit not unlike what Vara and Jur were wearing, but without the armor plating. Once the Admiral responded with an 'As you were', the Marines returned to watching over the prisoners as the four Vortians took their seats.
The suited one, a senior enlisted Vortian male of a blue complexion with green eyes looked right at Turb. "You said Ervaus team is still alive?"
"That is correct. They were captured by these Irken."
"Captured?" He seemed to blink. "How did they do it?"
"Ask him," Turb pointed to Vard. The suited Vortian turned to face the short Irken, leaning forward.
"So, little man...how did you do it? How did you capture two of mine? How'd you defeat this armor?"
Vard stared directly back at the armored one questioning him. He did not immediately respond. Equal parts training to resist questioning and interrogation. The other was he wasn't sure if they should give away what few advantages they held in the event they crossed paths again...assuming there was a again.
His suit's muscle fibers turned red as he grabbed Vard by the collar, lifting the Irken, along with the chair, hauling him up to pull him in further, though still out of bite reach. "Speak, you little whelp, before I decide to break your neck."
"Calm down, Vaeggar, this isn't going to get us anywhere." The Admiral spoke up, looking to the enlisted man in armor.
"Sir, this could potentially save the lives of our best men."
"We will get to it, I assure you. Set him down."
"...Yes, sir." The Vortian pushed Vard's chair back down and released him, his suit returning to a normal look after that as he took his seat once more.
"Doctor 'Zharic, good to see you have not been mistreated, or dead," the Admiral spoke.
"Admiral, these Irken are...very different than the others we've encountered. I think you should hear them out."
The Admiral looked right at Vult, blinking. "Yes...I'd very much like to hear more about this...Byte...and how you came to find our station."
"Four," Vult spoke, able to turn his head enough to see his subordinate at his flank.
"Sir?"
"Answer him." He nodded before earning another blow for speaking out of line, spitting blood onto the table. "Before they get upset."
"Yes, Sir." The Tech Specialist acknowledged. "Your suits, while advanced, are not impervious to the laws of physics. A strong enough electrical shock will overload sensors and force it into a shut-down status to protect the likely very expensive components. I recommend better shielding to whoever decided to initially cut corners on the design to save money to require a higher voltage necessary to induce that forced shut-down status again."
Rhac rubbed his chin. "This is good to know…" Sounded like something to fix with updated models...if they make updated models. In the meantime, he'll need to let the other squads know to avoid extremely high voltages. "That answers what I needed to know, Admiral."
"Very good," he learned forward, looking at Vult. "Now, Byte...I want to know everything. How you came to find us, why you thought you could just waltz right in our front door, and who the blazes you are."
"You likely know more about him than I," Vult began much to their dismay...or agitation. "Without delving beyond OPSEC, my first interaction with him was on Irk. He provided a datadisk to be reviewed by one of my own and the coordinates for this facility were encrypted within. For what purpose, I do not know. The Empire had zero knowledge of this facility's existence and still don't. This information has not been passed onto my superiors."
"That true, Doctor?"
"It is, Admiral. I've learned that this Irken is a man of his word...unlike his leaders. You should also be aware that he's disconnected from their Control Brains. They have no way of finding out. Our failsafe is safe, for now."
The Admiral seemed visibly relieved at that. "Byte hailed this station once before...we have no idea how he managed to get this frequency, or even find out where we are, much less triangulate it. This is...curious indeed. What were you hoping to accomplish here? Steal some things to help your war machine, hm?"
"A secondary objective, I assure you." Vult tempted humor. They didn't find it funny as he earned a punch from one of the guards, making him wince and seethe at his already bloodied mouth. "...all of you are so serious...I don't know how Byte learned of this place. As I said...I barely know anything about him and I assume he kept it that way for a reason. Doctor 'Zharic has unhooked myself, these two, and a majority of my team from the Control Brains. We possess free will. Free thought. Emotions...at the risk of earning another punch...just like your people."
One of the Marines was about to punch him again, but the Admiral raised a hand to stop him. "Then...why did you come? Clearly this wasn't ordered, or I'm sure you would've used whatever weapons were on the shuttle to try and blow this station to bits. Why are you really here? What is it you're seeking?" Several loaded questions, and one that went right to the heart of the matter. Why would one of their enemies come in like this? This was highly unusual...not Irken in style at all.
"Byte contacting this station before my arrival in the past, then directing me here through encrypted means is not coincidence." Vult deduced, wary of his choice of words. "You can question Doctor 'Zharic in detail to corroborate what I'm telling you if need be, but I've been directed here for a reason."
Hesitant and wary of his choice of words with Vard being uninformed on the matter, he tried to think best how to put it.
"...on Irk, Byte was...not there. Not physically. I spoke to him through an artificial construct. A...synthetic body with remote communication if I were to make an assumption on how. He was...puppeting an Administrator, a very powerful political figure on Irk and largely responsible for many day-to-day operations. Byte, as this Administrator...was behind a movement...internal resistance to the Empire's way of life. Drones demanding more rights, better hours, so on and so forth. Strife, in the simplest terms...and my team and I were sent to investigate and put a stop to it. Only after we commenced the assignment did I find all of this out."
Rhac blinked at this information. "So...there's a small resistance network within the Empire. Can't say I'm surprised given how your government is so damn full of assholes. You know the reports I keep getting from 'Zharic back on Vort? Your Supreme Commander Grimm and his lackey Major General Saro are killing our men, ruthlessly. Surrender is seen as tantamount to death by a number of our men. They also don't seem to have a care for any of you. Never seen a people so willing to throw their people into the grinder like it's nothing."
Vult's brow furrowed at the mentioning of Saro. He held his tongue only briefly, feeling if it were wise to speak again or not as he held up his shackled hand with a single finger to interject.
"I'm sorry...did you say...Major General Saro? I was under the impression Saro was a Captain in the Irken Elite as of mere months ago."
"Well, whatever he was, he's been bumped up to Major General. Our sniper duo really let the former commander of your Imperial troopers have it...you might know the man. He said he's run into a bunch fitting your description before." Rhac smirked at the three Irken, "Well...he gets a headectomy, Grimm gets a facejob suiting his fucking attitude and almost had a hole bored through his own head. Shame we can't get Vaukt heading your Spec Ops there...guy's elusive and hard to come by on any reliable intel."
"I would expect nothing less of the man that heads up Special Operations-"
Punch.
Vult winced, gritting his teeth.
"...I deserved that one." He admitted, sitting up straight again, spitting more blood out. "...for the record...I have zero control or influence over what the Armada does at-large. You hate me. You hate my people. Understandable...but recent weeks and events have led me down a similar frame of mind."
The Admiral looked at the Marine near Vult, "Lance Corporal, if you keep that up, we're never going to get that smell out of this room."
"...Understood, sir."
The Admiral looked Vult dead in the eyes, considering what Vult was saying, "So, what is it you're getting at? You saying you want out, hm? Is this an attempt of Irkens trying to defect? Or do you potentially have something to offer us?"
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Vult plainly spoke much to their annoyance...something he needed to be careful of at the risk of being executed and likely spaced for his troubles. "...you said Byte contacted this station before. He led me here. I believe he wants me to speak with him from here...and yes, I know how ludicrous that sounds, but let's be logical for a moment...if Byte established contact, an Irken from Irk...or wherever he is located...is it not an eventuality that this location will be compromised if the war continues? The fleet outside isn't exactly subtle and easy to hide, after all."
The Admiral had to concede that he made a good point… maybe they should… "With the exception of Vaeggar, the other Admirals here, these prisoners, and Doctor Zharic, all others, out. Wait for me to call you back in." The Marines soon filed out of the room after looking at each other. The Admiral looked through the old communications logs and found the one signal that's Irken in origin...and pinged it, waiting for a response. All he could hope is this isn't some sort of trap.
Vult waited with baited breath as the communication frequency was dug up from the logs and pulled out of what could best be described as limbo as far as frequencies were concerned. They isolated and locked it out from their network to avoid the risk of being triangulated and promptly located by the Armada per protocol. He really hoped he picked up or this was all for naught and likely signed his own, Kazak, and Vard's death warrants.
A burst of static filled the room, a garbled attempt at speech through interference, then finally crystal-clarity.
"Yes, hello? Hello? Kyozist? You never returned my call!" Byte's familiar tones came through. "To which do I owe the pleasure?"
"Son of a bitch-" Kazak spoke up, quietly, but enough to get noticed and a glare shot at him by Rhac. The Admiral gestured for Vult to speak, after saying a few words.
"Byte, was it? We have some people here who want to talk to you."
"Do you, now? Would it be bold of me to presume it one Captain Corr among them?"
"Negative," Vult addressed his eccentric nature. "A close guess though."
"Ahh...Commander Vult...I presume your Captain was successful in locating the information I embedded seeing as we are having this conversation from a very secure Vortian facility."
"You presume correctly. Unfortunately he could not accompany me. He is...indisposed of at the moment. Injuries sustained." Vult cryptically spoke at risk of giving the Vortians more intel to operate off of. "...I made an educated guess assuming you wanted us to arrive at this coordinates."
"Oh, yes, very much so. A small test on my behalf to ensure you are as careful and clever as I believe you to be. How are the Vortians treating you?"
Vult eyed the Admiral and the others in the room for a moment before speaking.
"As well as to be expected...better than our last conversation, I assure you."
Byte laughed.
"Yes, well, it was necessary and no harm, no foul. Imperial Internal Affairs needed their "corpse" and you needed confirmation of completing your assignment. All's well, end's well."
"Right...so...before these very angry, heavily-armed Vortians lose their patience with either of us...you mind telling me exactly what all of this is about? Why the construct? Why the secrecy? How did you find this place? What's going on?"
A long sigh as the man sounded to be settling in.
"Yes...I do suppose you...and whomever else is present is owed an explanation to all of this now. I assume I am being recorded, yes?"
"You're not entirely inept then, Byte," the Admiral spoke up. "Of course you're being recorded. Who do you think we are, some two-bit dictatorship...wait, that would be the Empire."
"If we are to be technical, the Empire is not a dictatorship. It is an autonomously-regulated organism. A true constant war of nature and science against itself." Byte corrected much to Vult's dismay. Annoying their captors wasn't wise or high on his priority list.
"Save the philosophical discussion for later. Please."
"Very well…" Byte sighed with disappointment. "This arrangement of your unexpected guests is a prediction of mine and the pieces happened to fall into place. I do thank you for not shooting first and asking questions later."
"The point, Byte. Get to it." Vult demanded in annoyance before things went south.
"Of course. We can fill in the blanks later. In any case, this outcome was orchestrated by me for one purpose and one purpose only: Revolution."
The Vortians in the room blinked and looked at each other, Turb included. The Admiral even seemed confused. "I think I may have just had something blocking my hearing. Did I just hear you say you're orchestrating an Irken revolution? How are you going to pull that off with everyone hooked into those...control brain things?"
"The grand question we ask ourselves," Byte mused. "There has been a method to my madness. I needed to be certain I could trust the likes of Vult and his team. A test of loyalty, if you will. Depending on who you ask, he failed miserably...or in my case, passed with flying colors."
"Are you going to stop talking in circles and actually tell me who you are and why the fuck you know so much?" Vult finally had his patience at an end and seemed to pick up on the infectious charm of Vortian swears.
"I know so much because of my level of clearance. My...position within the Empire grants it. You'll have to forgive me if I'm not so forthcoming. Trust is difficult to come by...and your horned friends in the room may not see things the same as you and I. Surely they understand."
"You just told them you're starting a rebellion within the Empire through me. I think I deserve to know."
"...point taken...I am a System Administration Specialist."
Vard's eyes went wide. Wider than they already had been at all this information being the first he's heard of it. Irk. Byte. The information wrought. Rebellion...it was dizzying.
"So the question I have to ask," Kazak broke his silence yet again, "Who unhooked you from the control brains, Byte?"
Turb also chimed in, "I would also be intrigued to know that...I could not have possibly been the only one."
"An interesting tale, to say the least. Some years ago, when I was first assigned to this post, through some twist of fate...I received my own deactivation order."
Vard's mental deductions could no longer be contained as a wild finger rose.
"He-he-he's a System Admin...control of information across the entire network for the Control Brains! He's on Judgementia!"
"So much for the allure and mystery…" Byte huffed in disappointment. "Sergeant Vard is correct. I know so much because I quite literally have a finger to the pulse of the Empire...and my morbid curiosity in this experiment in motion that is your unit, too...these developments have been recent, I assure you."
"That doesn't explain how you're doing this without a one-way trip to deactivation." Vult reminded him. "You received your own deactivation order. Why? What was it for?"
"Ironically enough, a faulty transmitter resulting in poor connectivity to the network. I spoofed the confirmed deactivation order to disappear long enough to do research off-the-record and figure out how to continue doing my job despite being considered dead. Having access across the network...and a little forced entry here-and-there...I restored my activation status."
"And the transmitter?"
"Tucked away discreetly elsewhere with its own power supply, removed from my PAK."
"Very interesting…" Turb stroked his chin. "Not something I would have thought of, but it checks out based on what I know."
Kazak looked at Vult, saying nothing, the Admiral speaking up instead. "So...let me get this straight...you want us to help you with this little revolution of yours...that you also want to pull these three into. What hope of success do you even have? I don't think three men and however many others like them there are are going to make a dent enough to stop whatever is going on. You're looking at fantasy at best, a delusion of grandeur at worst."
"There's twelve of them total," Byte plainly spoke much to Vult's dismay. "And of course I don't expect them alone to be successful. There has not been a total conversion of his unit entirely, something I am somewhat disappointed in-"
"Take your disappointment and shove it up your c'hurta." Vult snapped at him. "You have any idea how difficult it is to convince someone to get unhooked from the system without asking too many questions? My subtle approach has netted the results thus far and it was to protect my people, not further your rebellion against the Empire."
"To which I understand, but whether you like it or not, Vult, you ARE part of this movement. You would not have listened to me on Irk if you were blindly loyal and faithful to the Tallest. You would not have had Corr sift through the data provided. You would not have had your team perform their own archeological dig on a derelict facility on Devastis of your own accord...all of this has happened because you are seeking answers and an explanation as to why things are the way they are, why all is not what it seems...and why your fury should burn hotter than any star in the universe at what was TAKEN from us."
"The guy's right." Kazak spoke up, "Look, I had problems with the Empire even before I finally got unhooked. I went to Praxxus, I did what I was told. I was told to withdraw, so I did. I show up days late, with Spec Ops survivors, what happens? I get demoted because I sullied my hands with alien tech? Really?" The Lieutenant's tirade wasn't done yet, "Then there's what I heard on Irk over the mic. How he knew about us...what he said...and then what we found in that damned processing center? I know I said it before, Vult, I'll say it again. As far as fighting for the Empire is concerned? I'm out. I'm through with the Tallest and those damned Control Brains. I'd much rather die with a rifle in my hand than waiting for Internal Affairs to put two in the back of my head in some prison somewhere."
"You all have your reasons and convincing was easy for some, more difficult for others." Byte acknowledged. "And to answer your earlier question, Admiral, I'm not naive. I don't expect a single team of a dozen to successfully oppose the Empire in any capacity...but they are a team of highly-skilled, highly-qualified, specialized soldiers with combat experience aplenty whom all survived Impending Doom 1. Nearly unrestrained security clearance and high knowledge of most of the Empire's infrastructure are perks, of course."
"...we're no hammer when it comes to warfare." Vult commented. "More of a scalpel."
"A scalpel still cuts deep and can be effective when applied correctly given circumstance ...X marks the spot where the hammer can strike."
"You could kill someone with a pen if you do things right, just sayin'." Rhac spoke up, "Qoris and Orpos are still alive?"
"Absolutely," Turb answered, "I've spent recent time in their brig with them."
"Hm...if these three decide to turn traitor...they could prove useful."
"Never thought we'd be working with our enemy, but...if this resistance is to continue to survive, we're going to need to branch out. Surely there's plenty of elements in the Empire that want to overthrow Irken domination of their homes." The Admiral looked to Vult, "So, what do you say, are you in or out?"
Defection? Rebellion? Treason? Vult's head spun. Equal parts from the dazing buttstroke and subsequent blows but also all of this information in the company of allies and enemies alike. Byte wasn't toying with them or testing their loyalty for the Tallest...he was orchestrating an uprising from within. A proper rebellion and attempt to overthrow the shackles of the system that enslaved them. Talk of such alone was worthy of death, let alone the choice that was being presented.
"I take his silence as careful consideration." Byte commented with a sigh. "Vult, I'm not naive. I realize what is being asked of you is greater than the sum of what has come before. Were there any other way that didn't involve placing this responsibility on the shoulders of others, I'd pursue those methods. Even so, you cannot remain loyal to the Empire while being detached from it. They were going to deactivate you for not being combat-effective. They attempted to deactivate your First Sergeant because of a damaged hormonal inhibitor. You saved her life and your own by doing the most logical thing in unplugging from the system...but in doing so marks you for deactivation should anyone discover this."
As the silence continued, from both Vortian and Irken alike following Byte's further explanation of things. Kazak finally broke it with a loud, frustrated sigh. "You know what? Fuck it. Get these shackles off me." He threw up his hands as high as they would let him, "I'm a dead man anyhow. May as well try to do something useful before I get a hole in my head from some plasma bolt or something."
Rhac only blinked at the response from Kazak. "So, you don't like your Empire?"
"Like I said, they demoted me for coming back from Praxxus the first time around with one of your shuttles...because I used alien tech. I had my doubts since then. Now? Fuck it. Might as well fight back against them, whatever it takes."
Vard, silent through all of this as his logic-driven mind bordering on madness as it were in the territory of being a near-genius, looked to his commanding officer.
"Commander?"
"Yes, Vard?"
"...You remember the incident with Lieutenant Volx? In the Infirmary? After we aided Doctor 'Zharic with unhooking Aero from the Control Brains?"
"I do."
"If what Byte says is true...if we don't commit to helping however we can...anyone else that discovers what we've done will have a similar reaction. Unlike the Lieutenant, they have no reason to trust you or confide in you. You and I both know much of the Empire is very much shoot first, ask questions never."
The short-statured Tech Specialist wasn't incorrect in that assessment. He remembered those events with crystal clarity having nearly become a casualty of his own doing.
"I haven't spoken at length with Calla...but I know she'd fight tooth and nail for this. Our uncertainty and hesitance is because we've never lost what she did. We have no semblance of what things once were. Captain Corr may not be here with us...but what I do know of him, he'd be in agreement as well after what we saw on Devastis and what Calla has likely told him of how things came to be."
"So you're in, Vult?" Kazak asked, "Really would hate to do this without the rest of you."
The Vortians spoke among themselves a heated debate...that they may actually have allies on the inside. Even if Vort falls...when it falls, they have a solid objective. Strike from within, chaos within the Empire, adding to the capabilities of Ohnmatu...and with the main goal of restoring the Federation and reclaiming their home. "Doctor Zharic," the Admiral finally spoke up, "can we trust them?"
Turb took one look at Vult for a few moments before looking to the Admiral, "Sir, unequivocally. Vult is a man of his word. In my time I spent with him, I can tell you that he doesn't go back on it. He's unique among Irken...if he's going to commit to this course of action, we can count him as an ally."
"Just for the sake of clarification...I do hope you realize that until a certain foothold is established, Vult and his team's participation is purely for the sake of providing intelligence. They must continue to operate and maintain a low profile as if nothing is afoul. Until the foreseeable future, the Empire and Federation at large need them to remain so. Allies to the Irken and fanatically loyal...and the Vortian's enemy...notwithstanding those in the room currently, of course."
"Figured as much," Rhac replied, "Stay in cover, potentially act as saboteurs...have to pretend nothing's amiss." He grabbed a datapad from nearby and started writing on it...he'd have new orders for Ervaus team given this new information.
Vult finally lifted his head to speak after much careful consideration.
"What about those yet to be unhooked on my team? We've already had...incidents of derision among the ranks as a result of this. They're not stupid, they know something is going on. I cannot force them to undergo the same procedure at risk of being outed and all of us becoming the Empire's most-wanted."
Rhac stopped writing briefly to look at Vult, "At some point...one of two things is going to happen. Either you need to give them the ultimatum to either fall in line or throw them in the brig, or they're going to catch you unaware. Just keep that in the back of your head. Something like this is going to be hard to hide. If you can't get those left on board, you'll need to deal with them, one way or another...at least you'll be plus two when that point hits." He finished writing his brief orders on the datapad, encrypted it with Ervaus team's passcode, and slid the datapad over to Vult after signing the orders. "Hand this to Night Witch once you get back to your ship. She'll wipe it. They'll never know. Whenever you're ready to pull the trigger, you'll have them on your side."
Vult looked to the datapad, then up at Rhac.
"A task easier said than done when on the outside looking in. My skin may be green, but I'm far removed from what Irken typically are. I care about my team to the point of making whatever sacrifice is necessary so they may live. The common Imperial soldier follows orders without question, even if it results in their death. I am not so blind...I am not going to cast their lives away because they don't march in-step with me. I will...figure something out to convince them."
"The only assistance I can offer on my end regarding that is if they attempt to contact Imperial Internal Affairs to report you, I will mitigate and delay it. This system loses information in transmission sometimes. Nothing is perfect." Byte explained nonchalantly. "...but just so you are aware...there is no going back from this, Vult. You'll have to gather your team. Tell them and deal with the fallout."
"I'm aware. I don't make such decisions lightly."
"Hence my interest in you and the potential I see. I doubt your captors in that room can ever find it in them to forgive our people for what we've done to them...but you can bet your c'hurta we're going to do all we can to make it right. The tyranny. The oppression. The lies. It stops. With you."
"I lost one of my kids back on Praxxus when you guys came knocking last time...I got another two on Vort possibly fighting for their lives, the last one is captain of one of these vessels. My family's going to be lucky if at least one of us survives this mess...but if it means saving our home...I'm potentially willing to work with these guys." Rhac laid out his own view. "It's in their orders, but once you activate them, they'll make contact with myself and Zharic, we'll know it's game on. You'll have the help of Ohnmatu. Until then, it's like Byte said...we can't afford to let anyone else know. I can't tell any of our active teams about your status and risk it all. The boss will know but then it's in his hands."
"Just so there's no hard feelings or wonders of betrayal. I assure you this is not an elaborate ruse to find where you are hiding. I cannot imagine what terrible fate awaits me if the Control Brains knew what I was doing. Death would be preferable." Byte reasoned. "So what's it going to be, Vult? Are we to continue this little dance or is Corr about to get a promotion in your permanent absence?"
Vult knew exactly what he meant by that. Kazak and Vard seemed on-board with the idea of rebellion. Going rogue. His intuition made him feel confident those unhooked from the system would be in agreement...but that left Rha, Rem, and Tuu. Three very competent, dangerous, and loyal soldiers still abiding by PAK programming. Should the wrong thing be said or action before them, they would do what their programming dictates. Traitors and rebels are not treated very well beneath those circumstances if Calla was any inclination as to what fate awaited them.
"...so long as I am permitted to handle my own ranks as I see fit. Until anything actionable takes place, we must maintain the veil of normalcy. The assignments coming down from the Tallest and Imperial brass must still be completed in a timely fashion. Our loyalty must be unquestioned by those in positions of authority...that will mean we continue to engage the Empire's enemies...Vortian armed forces included."
The Admiral sighed, "It's a risk we'll have to take...at least lives spent now can potentially mean an end to all this nonsense later on. Things may be bogged down back home...but I'm thinking that we may need to begin evacuating the planet of all our military forces and key civilian personnel. We need to go into a sustained resistance mode. Things like this keep up, we're only going to have a bunch of Marines left at our disposal and hardly any other ground forces." He looked to Turb, "How many prisoners do they have?"
"There was just myself, your two operatives, and my daughter Kiara."
"We may need her back later on. She'll be one of the higher ranking survivors of this ordeal."
Vult, considering the fate-altering decision made, looked to Turb.
"I've asked much of you in your duration in my custody. I have one more request."
"What is it you need, Commander?"
"Considering the current arrangement aboard my vessel as it is...the discussed plan of acquiring a new body for Calla. We provide the necessary equipment and biological material, will you grow it here? I cannot keep that a secret from the uninitiated with the resources and manpower required."
"I suppose that means you're letting me go." He rubbed his chin, mulling it over, then nodded. "I think I can. So long as this base is not compromised, such a venture should be safe here. At least your Lieutenant there will not have to worry about the complexities of body snatching."
"Ha ha, funny. I wouldn't mind...it's just that it's difficult to do on Irk and Devastis is locked up tighter than ever given what happened. The latter would be damn near impossible without dropping a number of guards in the process."
"Well, you must have a source of this somewhere. If I have what I need, I can create the body, and to whatever specifications desired." The Doctor looked to Vard then to Rhac, "Vaeggar...we may need to give them a few parting gifts. Small items of ours to help them out. They have a couple of minds good with technology, we have one of them here. I think it may be in our best interest that they have an edge."
"Not an edge in killing our guys, I hope."
"No...if they use them, it should be once they commit."
Vult nodded at Turb's words. "I didn't bring you solely as a shield to avoid being vaporized on-approach. Unfortunately, your daughter's strategic importance is going to keep her in my custody for the time being. There will be no change in how she is treated, I assure you."
"Speaking of parting gifts…" Byte began knowingly. "Project Episkeptis. For the Commander to remain covert in these endeavors, we need a secure means of communication. Provide his Tech Specialist, Vard, with the schematics of your prototype node."
"Admiral," Rhac seemed to protest at that notion, "we need that for continued development once we're in the full contingency."
"We can make others, Vaeggar...we can spare the one completed prototype and tell the tech nuts to step it up with the other prototypes."
"...Of course, sir. I should also contact Zharic and inform him of these updates as it concerns Ohnmatu."
There was some hesitation, "Very well, but tell him this is currently classified per my order. He doesn't spread this information around without my go ahead."
"Yes, sir," with that, the Vortian started typing on a terminal to get a secure line to contact Gantas.
"Well...I think that covers things, Vult...I'll show Vard several objects that should help you with that armor development and other things that I am certain Aero would enjoy tinkering with."
"I'm sure she will," Vult acknowledged, tugging at his restraints securing him to the table with mild annoyance. "...we're on the same side here, for better or worse. Is this necessary?"
The Admiral nodded, "You make a good point...Vaeggar, their shackles." After finishing his message to Gantas, the armored Vortian stood up and undid the shackles of the Irken prisoners. "I'm very certain this is genuine and not a trap. If it were, we would already have half the Irken Armada outside this station and we would all be dead men. I have no doubts that the Empire would throw away three of their own, regardless of value, to destroy this station and our resistance."
Kazak had a realization, "Shit, Vult, didn't you say earlier that Corr ran these coordinates by Rem? What if they're on the ship's nav computer?"
"Something I will take care of personally upon our return," Vult addressed, rubbing his freed wrists. "All the more reason why need to wrap up things here and return as soon as possible."
"Yes...by the way, I should introduce myself if we're going to be in this together." The Admiral extended a hand to Vult, "Admiral Lard'Narr, Vortian Navy."
Vult eyed the extended hand momentarily before taking it with a shake. Vortian and Irken. Working together. What was this universe coming to? Everything they knew was a lie. Nothing made sense...and Byte preached as if they were the coming of a great wind of change. The tip of the spear to be driven into the heart of the Empire itself.
Rhac looked up after getting a return message from Gantas. "I'll take them to the tech wing...just got a message from the boss. He wants a favor. I'll explain on the way." The Admirals rose, Lard leading the way, opening the door first.
"Two of you, stay here, follow orders from Vaeggar, the rest of you, back to your posts. Don't shoot these Irken if you see them. They just became rather important." The Marines seemed puzzled at first, but the Admiral had to know what he was doing. Before stopping to leave, he decided to say a few more words. "Byte, I don't know if you'll need to contact us again. If you do...well, I'm sure you'll know how to keep such a line secure. Vult, best of luck...keep those three you have safe. I'm more worried about those three you have unhooked...but we'll need them. So long as they survive, that's what matters." With that, he left the room.
A power system for the suit, the prototype node for secure communications, and a number of other trinkets for Vard to take back. Turb even gave a parting gift of some of the materials used in the base layer of their armors to potentially provide Vult with a more streamlined and advanced prosthetic. Rhac even provided a set of suit plates with OD green paint, a fit for Kiara, something Gantas had in reserve for his sister when the time came. Plenty for them to load up and take back and for Kazak to proceed to Devastis after that. "Gantas has the suit itself back on Vort. Told him to leave it here, but no, wanted to give it to her himself. The sentimental man." Rhac shook his head. "Put it to good use."